#I already have 2 themed pets beginning

[ineedthesons]

Re-Joined Ancient Fake Pet Website

xmtcdmx

[azrielhours]

Our Marriage Bed

Azriel x Reader

Word count: 5k

Synopsis: Azriel is slowly going insane wanting you, having difficulty differentiating between dreams and wakefulness. One night his dream carries over and he tries to get it on with you.

Warnings: Slightly darker sexual themes. Unclear beginning/end of wakefulness. Light choking, rough sex. Azzy being mean.

a/n: dedicated to my darling @tadpolesonalgae. Can be read alone, but part 2 to Company of Phantoms

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

Azriel couldn’t recall the last time in his five centuries he felt this much raw contentment. He was sitting in your room, waiting. Since that night you’d invited him to share your bed, a door had been opened. A friendship, he supposed, though friendship was a pathetic encapsulation for the trove of feelings he kept barely buried beneath the surface. The more nights he spent with you, the more the lines blurred between the boundaries of this arrangement. As did the boundaries of his sanity, but who was he to complain when he got to sleep in your arms night after night?

He basked in your space, illuminated by a warm glow. Your scent lingered in the sheets. Your books spilling secrets of your intellect on the shelves. Your music taste contained in the Symphonia on your dresser. Little pockets of you for Azriel to satiate himself with.

Azriel caught himself nodding off on the bed when the doorknob turned, and he straightened. Wordlessly, you walked right to him, a privilege he was yet to grow accustomed to. “Y/N,” he breathed as you sat right before him. You brought your hand to his chest, running it down his sternum, catching the skip in his heart. Azriel felt his last dregs of tiredness dissipate. Were you about to kiss him?

“Y/N—”

“Azriel,” you purred like a song.

He couldn’t breathe as your lips grazed his cheek, trailing to the corner of his mouth.

“Azriel.”

“Yes.”

“I have to tell you something.” Again, that dreamy drawl. He swallowed, waiting. But you only moved to trail your lips to his other cheek, shifting closer so your breasts pressed against his chest. Traced your mouth to his ear, letting your breath fan across his ear. There, you only whispered, Azriel.

Azriel. 

“Azriel?”

Azriel snapped awake.

Fuck.

You stood next to him—next to the armchair, where he’d—

He looked around. Not in your bed. His cheeks heated. You hadn’t been—touching him, hadn’t tried to—

“Sorry for taking so long,” you spoke softly. Not in that echoey chant.

“That’s okay,” he said. Just a dream.

You only smiled sweetly at him. “Did you want to sleep here again, baby?”

Baby. God, you were killing him.

Azriel only nodded. You bit your lip apprehensively. How you managed to call him pet names and sleep next to him but still blush at the suggestion had him huffing a laugh. He reached out, gently clasping your forearms, tugging you down. You gasped, bracing your hands on his chest, landing into his lap. Azriel bit back his twin surprise at his brazenness, but when you leaned closer, he relaxed into the indulgence.

He wrapped his arms around your waist, and you wrapped yours around his shoulders. Azriel buried his face into the crook of your neck, breathing you in. “Missed you,” he mumbled.

“I missed you too, Azzy.”

Azriel knew he was growing too reliant on you—could feel his discipline crumbling more each day he got to have you while not quite having you.

You gently pulled your arms back over his shoulders to leverage yourself off his chest, and Azriel loosened his grip around your waist, happy to lazily hold you. He watched you expectantly. You cocked your head to the side, and Azriel copied you, making you laugh.

“Let’s go to bed,” you said. “You already fell asleep.”

Azriel shook his head. “I wasn’t.”

You rolled your eyes, hauling off his lap. “I saw you, Az.”

He stood, letting you pull him to bed. “I saw you,” he murmured. You’d touched his chest the same way then, too. In dream and wake.

You gave a confused laugh, shaking your head, pulling the sheets back with one hand while he held your other. The words marriage bed crossed his mind before he suppressed the thought.

Once you’d both settled in, Azriel reached for your hand beneath the sheets, feeling his drowsiness return. He focused on the sensation of your gentle strokes across his hand. “What was it that you wanted to tell me?”

“Hm?”

“You said you had to tell me something,” he muttered.

“No, baby, I don’t think I did.”

He wasn’t sure why you’d change your mind so quickly. He knew he was asking too much of you, but he could not bear to pull back. “Can I touch you?” he whispered.

“Yes.”

Azriel snaked his arm beneath your shoulders, hauling you to his chest. “This okay?”

“Yes, honey,” you breathed, eyes closed. “Take whatever you want.”

“Thank you for taking care of me.”

“Mhm.”

“Now I can’t sleep without you,” he whispered, stroking down your arms.

You only huffed a sleepy laugh.

“Look what you’ve done to me.”

“Sorry, Azzy,” you mumbled. He could feel your soft smile against his collarbones.

Azriel savoured your warmth, pressing you even tighter against him. It was never enough. He always wanted more of you.

You twitched in your sleep, prompting him to soothe down your arms. But instead of settling down, you suddenly pushed your body more firmly against his. Azriel’s mind quieted fully when you extended a leg across his hips. He itched to trace the soft skin of your thighs. But it felt—it was too much, wasn’t it?

You’d told him to take what he wanted—invited him to share your bed each night, but surely, he shouldn’t—

You sighed in your sleep, a pretty sound. But you were suddenly moving again. Tracing a hand up and down his chest. Up to his throat, dragging your fingernails gently down the column, bringing Azriel fully into alertness again.

The leg thrown across his middle stretched further forward as you slowly dragged yourself atop him. He braced his hands on your hips as you seated yourself on his lap Were you—was this—

“Y/N?” he whispered.

“Azriel,” you sighed.

“Yes?” he breathed. He’d take anything you gave. He’d been right about earlier—you’d wanted him.

“I have to tell you something,” you whispered.

Your knees bracketed either side of his waist, pressing your hips more firmly to his own. Balancing your hands on his lower abdomen, Azriel’s breath hitched.

You ground down against him. Once, then stilled. It was enough for Azriel to feel blood coursing where your bodies met. Then, again. A delicate drag of your core against him. He couldn’t help the glide of his hands from your hips to your thighs, where the fabric of your nightgown had exposed them for his pleasure.

He clasped the underside of your thighs, revelled in the movement as you dragged yourself a third time against his growing hardness. Azriel groaned.

You were straddling him perfectly. You fit perfectly. He remained still, watching to see what you’d do next—prayed there’d be a next.

Lust clouded his brain, making it hard to lay still beneath you as you stared down at him. He wanted nothing more than to grind you against him again, to bury himself inside you.

You only stroked your hands up his torso as you bent over him languidly, arching onto his torso to pepper kisses along his jaw. Your breasts pressed firmly against him. When you moved your hips against his again, kissing his neck, he turned to whisper in your ear. “You’ll give me what I want?”

“Yes, Azriel.”

He let himself grind up against you. “Anything I want?”

“Anything,” you breathed. He could hear the smile on your lips. When you made him groan again, you giggled, a wicked sound. You kissed your way to his mouth, but before reaching his lips, you lifted off his chest, returning to your previous straddle. You smiled down at the panting mess you’d made of him. “I wanted to tell you something,” you murmured airily.

Right.

“Tell me, pretty girl,” he rasped, stroking up and down your thighs.

You leaned back down, and against his lips, you whispered. “Azriel.”

“Yes.”

“Azriel.”

“Yes.”

“I want you to make me your bride.”

Azriel wholly stilled.

You only grazed your lips against his. “Make me your bride.”

He couldn’t breathe.

“Azriel.”

Azriel.

“Azriel?”

He blinked.

You’d moved off his lap, still hovering over him, a hand on his chest. The air was suddenly colder, seemingly darker than a moment ago.

How did you get off him so fast?

Too far away.

He was still panting, but you were taking him in with a calmer reception. Azriel sat up to meet you where you were, hands immediately going to your waist, tugging you firmly to his chest. You gasped, bracing your hands against his shoulders.

He kissed the smooth warmth of your neck, felt your pulse quicken beneath his lips.

“Azriel,” you breathed. He only grunted in response. You wanted him, and that was all he wanted. He thoroughly enjoyed the high-pitched tone he put in your voice. “Azzy.”

“Yes.” He kept kissing your neck, making his way to your shoulders, your collarbones.

“Did—did you have another nightmare?”

“No, baby, I didn’t,” he spoke against your skin. Even softer than it was a moment ago. Warmer, somehow. He continued his path, memorizing the hitch in your breath.

“Azzy,” you spoke again, stroking gently down his arms. “What are you doing?”

“Giving you what you asked for.”

You said nothing but didn’t stop your gentle caress down his arms.

“You said I can take what I want,” he ground out.

“Yes, honey, but—”

“I want to give you what you asked for,” he said.

“And what’s that?”

Azriel lifted onto his knees, caging your body. He turned you, guiding you to lay beneath him. You looked so beautiful, hair fanned out on the pillow, staring up at him. “To make you my bride,” he said, voice guttural. He braced his hands on either side of your head, and you widened your legs for him to cushion himself against you.

Again, you said nothing, so he leaned forward.

You quickly rested your hands tenderly against his face, stroking his cheekbones. But when he leaned down to kiss you, you turned your head to the side. He kissed your cheeks, trailing closer to your mouth. “You want to be my bride, pretty girl?”

When he raised his head to look at you, your eyes had fallen shut, brows pinching. Your lips parted as you breathed harder. You were being oddly quiet.

Azriel waited a beat. “Say you want me.”

Your eyes shot open, meeting his gaze again.

“You want to be my bride,” he breathed.

You slowly retracted your hands from his face. He watched your throat work a delicate swallow, your eyes searching his as he waited. “Is that—what I wanted to tell you?” you spoke gently. Not that wicked reverberation.

Azriel stilled.

Oh.

There was—no, there was no way. It’d been so clear.

He’d felt you. Felt how much you wanted him.

God, he was going crazy.

“…yes,” he whispered. It was what you wanted, what he wanted, you’d said it so clearly, he’d been awake, he was sure—

“Azzy,” you spoke again with that devastating gentleness.

“Y/N,” he rasped. He didn’t like the desperate edge in his voice.

“Baby,” you said, that enduring softness both soothing and hurting. He let himself stay where he was, resting on your frame, basking in your softness, knowing it would soon end. You searched his eyes, the restless pleading in them broke your heart.

He closed his eyes, bracing himself. Shit. He’d put his hands on your body, lay between your parted legs. Tried to kiss you.

Asked you to be his bride.

“I’m sorry.” He began moving off you, even as you rose with him. “I didn’t—I just thought—”

“Azzy, it’s okay,” you soothed. He sat on the edge of the bed, and you followed as he exhaled deeply. “Your dreams—it’s not your fault. I was just caught off guard, that’s all.”

Azriel shook his head. “I’m sorry. I can’t tell what’s real anymore.”

You cooed, wrapping your arms around his bicep. “It’s okay, honey. We’ll figure it out. I think you just need to rest.” You tugged, trying to pull him back to the pillows.

Azriel met your gaze again. “You still want me here?”

You frowned. “Of course I do.”

He searched your eyes for hesitation. Surely, he should leave, should keep himself from you. But you looked so lovely, beckoning him to sleep. No echoes, no siren mirth. Just honest eyes.

If he were better, if he were saner, he’d get up and leave. Would never risk your comfort—your body—in the state he was in. He was shocked at his inclination to stay.

He rose, let you pull the sheets back for him, and lay beside you. He knew shame would meet him in the daylight. He didn’t even want to think about what he’d revealed to you. He closed his eyes, and when you curled your body against his arm, he let himself savour it with every selfish drop of blood in him.

Perhaps this would be the last night he got this gift. He was perfectly content with not sleeping, lest he miss the feeling of sharing your bed this final time. Lest he fall back into his mania.

Azriel decided he’d choose in the morning whether this could carry on. For now, he’d lay next to you. Restless and haunted.

Baiting love and baiting sanity.

~

“Azzy, c’mere,” you murmured. You stood with your back to him in an open field, staring at something on the ground. Azriel approached you, took your extended hand to stand beside you. 

Before the both of you lay a large square plot in the earth. 

A grave.

Azriel turned to face you. Your eyes were cloudy, but you smiled up at him. “Our marriage bed.”

~

Azriel shot awake.

He’d let his feelings turn into something decaying and poisonous. Still, he didn’t know if he could muster the strength to walk away from you.

He turned in the dimness of the morning to see you and halted.

You were gone.

Dread pooled in his stomach, ice tightened his shoulders.

You’d left.

He shouldn’t be surprised, yet he remained frozen, aching. He let his head fall into his hands.

He’d scared you away. Surely.

He’d…he’d make sure you were okay, and then�� that would be it. He’d withdraw.

Azriel got ready haphazardly, scrubbing his face in the sink, throwing on yesterday’s clothing. He raced downstairs, running immediately into Cassian, making him stumble.

“Mother’s tits, Az. What’s the matter?”

“Y/N. Have you seen her?”

Cassian was immediately alert. “Why? Is she alright?”

“She’s fine,” Rhys cut in, emerging from the kitchen.

“Where is she?” Azriel demanded, taking a step towards the High Lord.

Rhys surveyed him, and Azriel didn’t like the placating look on his face. “She went to run an errand. Nothing to worry about.”

“What errand, Rhys?”

Rhys stepped closer and placed a hand on Azriel’s shoulder. Had you told Rhys what’d happened the night before? “Az, maybe you should… ease up.”

“Ease up?”

“Yeah. Take a breath. She’s okay. I’d never let anything happen to her.”

“You keep hogging her all to yourself, Az,” Cassian joked. “We had to send her away.”

Azriel ignored Cassian’s attempt at lightening the mood. “Why’s she away, Rhys?”

“She needed to do something.”

“And she… asked you for help?” That shouldn’t have stung as much as it did.

“I just happened to be awake,” Rhys said gently.

Azriel was stunned silent for a beat as his brothers took him in.

“C’mon Az. Let’s go work off the stress in the ring. It’s been a while,” Cassian offered. Azriel still held Rhys’s assessing gaze. Like he could see straight into Azriel’s weary soul. He broke his gaze to meet Cassian’s. His brothers must think he was truly losing it.

“Okay, Cass.”

Rhys nodded in approval, satisfied. “She’ll be back soon.”

~

“Azriel,” you called.

You shifted, bracing yourself on his frame where he lay, somewhere cold and final. Azriel immediately supported you as you put more of your weight on him. He didn’t dare move as you leaned down to kiss his cheeks.

It was dark—you must’ve come to bed. He gently grasped your forearms where they were braced on his chest, lest you slip away again. “Where’ve you been?”

“I left.”

“Why?” his voice faltered.

“You didn’t make me yours,” you murmured.

“But I want to,” he tried rising, but you pushed him back down into the cold beneath.

You met his hazy gaze. “If this is how it’ll be, you’ll only find me in our marriage bed.”

His heart dropped to his stomach. No.

“Yes.

In the companion plot you’d dug to rot in the ground together. “It’s not safe there.”

“Here,” you corrected, kissing his eyelids. Though your eyes were unkind, you only peppered kisses along his jaw. “You don’t listen, Azriel.”

He focused on receiving your affection, ignoring the sharp discomfort inching up his spine. Stone digging into his flesh.

“Azriel. Are you listening?” As you shifted, dirt collected on his legs.

“I am,” he closed his eyes, smelling the musk of the earth.

“Azriel.”

“Yes.”

Azriel.

“Azriel,” you spoke. Gently this time.

Kindly.

He opened his eyes.

You leaned over him not in a tomb but in his bed. It was indeed dark, but there was no finality to be found here. Not when he met your gaze, filled with concern and gentleness. No punishing scowls nor reprimand. No asphyxiation imposed on his ribcage.

“Y/N,” he rose immediately. He’d spent the day searching for you. After sparring, he’d taken off, searched the River House. The city. Asked around for you to no avail.

He’d returned to the House of Wind as the sun set, defeated. He didn’t think sleep would find him in your absence. “I’m sorry,” he began. “I’m sorry about last night. I didn’t mean to scare you. I just—my dreams, they’ve been—” disturbing. Uncanny— “they—I don’t know when they start, or if I’m awake—”

“It’s okay,” you cut him off with the softness in your tone he ached for. You placed a soothing hand on his arm. “After—um, last night, I asked Rhys if I could talk to Madja.”

Oh.

“I know you spent a while having sleepless nights,” you continued. “I thought—maybe the unsettling dreams you’ve been having are a result. So I had Madja make a tonic to help.” You held up a vial full of sloshing liquid.

“A sleeping aid?”

“Not exactly,” you shook your head. “This is to give you dreamless sleep. So you can have an easier time differentiating.”

Azriel was speechless. “Thank you,” he managed.

You nodded, offering a soft smile.

Which meant— “You’re not angry with me?” he asked.

A frown pulled your brows together. “No, love, I’m not angry. I came back to the Town House after Madja finished, but you were gone.”

Oh.

“I—I didn’t know if you—I was looking for you,” he said.

“So was I,” you murmured. “When you didn’t come back to the Town House all day, I asked Mor to winnow me here.” The silence was heavy as you both sat with the clarity. There was much to address. You averted your gaze, crossing your arms.

“What is it?” Azriel asked softly.

You found his eyes with an openness that had him holding his breath. “Last night, you mentioned—you wanted me to, um—”

“It won’t happen again,” he cut in.

You shook your head. “It’s not that, I—Azriel,” you paused, voice softening even further. “You dream of marrying me?”

Azriel was rendered speechless again, but he could do nothing but nod truthfully.

You blushed but uncrossed your arms, peering shyly. “Well. I can’t say I’m entirely opposed to the notion.”

Azriel couldn’t help his smile. His relief. “Yeah?” he spoke softly, itching to reach for you.

You nodded. “I mean we should take it slow, but I’m glad—I’m glad you also—” you gestured back and forth between your bodies. “I—it’s good, Azriel,” you stammered.

He stared intently at you, searching your eyes for doubt. Finding none. He swallowed. “I can do slow.” He’d crawl on shattered glass should you ask, let alone take slow ungratefully.

Your smile deepened, and if it was possible, so did Azriel’s affection for you. You shifted closer to him, reaching for his hand, winding your fingers together. “It’s late, Azzy.”

He narrowed his eyes playfully, happy to let you take the lead.

“Wanna give that tonic a try?” you smiled sweetly.

Azriel chuckled. “Is that taking it slow?”

You laughed. “If you got other things in mind, I won’t object.”

He opened his arms to you, and you smiled, shifting forward, sitting before him. You wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing him sweetly. Azriel sank back into the headboard, urging you further forward. You broke away to crawl into his lap. Azriel pulled you firmly against him by your thighs, enjoying your gasp against his mouth.

Azriel tried not to let his urgency show, but it was difficult to hold back when you pressed your body so deliciously against him. He’d dreamt of your warmth against him so frequently that this felt familiar rather than uncharted. It felt correct.

So when his hardness pressed against you, he only broke off from your mouth to see what you wanted next with no apologies tumbling from his lips.

You gazed at him, wide-eyed and wanting, but didn’t remove yourself. He forced his hands to settle on your legs despite the need to pull you onto him. You bit your lip apprehensively; with your grip on his shoulders, you dragged your core against his. Azriel’s eyes nearly rolled to the back of his head, his head falling back against the headboard in relief.

You seized the opportunity, bending forward to kiss his jaw. He gripped your hips, guiding your movement against him, relishing the gasp you let out in your shared pleasure.

He began pulling at the laces of your gown, helping you out of it. You paused only to bare yourself, and he followed suit, tugging off his shirt.

He wanted to taste you, to mark you, to sink inside you and have his way with you. When you returned to his lap in only your skin, he didn’t know where to begin.

Azriel traced down your front, kneading your breasts, drawing more of your pretty moans, making him dizzy with need. He’d take his time another time, he decided, needing to be inside you. Needing you to be ready for that. His hands wandered down the softness of your torso, and you leaned back in his lap to watch as one of his hands braced itself on your thigh, holding it further open, the other touching you where you needed it.

You shuddered, thighs instinctively shifting to close, but he resisted. He stroked up and down your folds, spreading your slick. When he continued his teasing, you impatiently grasped his wrist, setting him where you wanted. He thumbed at your clit, massaging circles into it, causing your back to arch.

His touch was gentle but skilled, pulling an orgasm from you before you could truly sit with the pleasure. Your legs shook, chest heaving, but before you could worry about the haste of it, Azriel was unbuckling his pants, freeing himself.

Through the haze of your pleasure, your jaw fell slack at the size of him. You met his gaze, nervous suddenly. He only gauged you. “You can do it,” he rasped.

You swallowed, nodding. He seemed inclined to sit back and watch you take him, making no move to rise. Perhaps this was his way of making it less intimidating, you thought.

Azriel’s intentions were in fact less benevolent. With you finally at his mercy, falling apart in his lap and baring yourself to him after all his wanting and waiting, he was suddenly overcome with the need to feel the labour of this coupling. Not in the carnal sense—beyond the pleasure, he needed this to be stamped into your body.

He loved you, but right now he wanted you to work for your pleasure like you’d made him work for his devotion, his sanity. His patience and worry. That you asked Rhys for help this morning instead of him. That you made him lose his grip on his control so viscerally.

So he said, “Take what you want.”

You rose on shaky legs, hands braced sweetly on his shoulders as you guided yourself closer to him, legs spread on either side of his hips. You reached down, lining him up and began sinking.

At the immediate pinch between your brows, Azriel knew it hurt you, that the stretch was difficult. Yet you were trying to take it for him. You were so tight around him, so snug it had him heaving. “Good girl,” he muttered and felt you sink a little easier at that. You whimpered.

When you were halfway down on him, you paused, panting softly, meeting his gaze. The innocent pleading in them had Azriel nearly breaking his resolve. He thumbed at your clit again, moving his grip from your thighs to your hips to ease you down. When you finally sank all the way, you were shaking enough for Azriel to let up, to lean forward and kiss you. He was struggling to remain still in the wake of your vice grip, to keep himself from fucking you, but he knew you needed the reprieve.

He kissed you for as long as you needed, continued to massage pleasure back into you as you adjusted in his lap. When you finally relaxed against him, he sat back against the headboard to watch you move. With your hands still on his shoulders, you began hauling yourself up and down onto him, wincing each time he bottomed out. You felt so good around him that he could barely breathe.

You still struggled to ride him. The sheer size of him making it difficult to rise fully, and your legs were close to giving out. “Azzy,” you whimpered, pouting at him terribly.

Oh.

His sweet, lovely girl. “Aww,” he couldn’t help but coo. He frowned in disbelief at his own cruelty, making you take him all on your own like that. “I’m sorry, angel.” He gripped your thighs around your ass, taking over. You gasped as he began guiding your body up and down his length with an ease that stole your breath again. He hauled you up and let you sink down at a relaxed pace, seeing how closely you teetered on the edge of pain and pleasure. “So good for me, right baby?”

“Mhm,” your eyes were falling shut, the pleasure drawing your brows together in a concentrated pinch as you let him fuck you onto him. You relaxed further into his hold, winding your hips forward and back, and he began moving faster.

One of his hands shifted to your throat, gripping it gently but firmly, making your eyes flash to his. “Say you’re mine,” he spoke lowly.   

Your hand wrapped around his wrist lovingly. “I’m yours, Azzy.” He could tell you were close again from the breathy pitch.

“My bride,” he corrected.

You gasped, shifting forward as he hit a spot deep inside that had your rhythm stuttering. “Your bride,” you panted.

“That’s fucking right,” he said, shifting forward so you fell back into the bed. With your legs open, he returned his grip to your throat and plunged inside you again, making you moan. He fucked you more firmly despite the slide of your tight entrance making it nearly difficult. You gripped his wrist with both your hands now, and when your nails dug into his skin, he knew you’d fall apart.

You gasped, mouth agape and soundless as you shuddered through your climax, clamping your legs around his tightly until they fell open again as the pleasure coiled and released. He pulled out to give you a moment to catch your breath, knowing he was being rough.

Though every bone in his body ached to cover you like a shadow, to press his skin on yours and only let up when you needed to breathe, to kiss you and show you he loved you, he rose to witness the sight of you.

Bare and spread for him.

If not for the threat of potentially scaring you off, he’d have tied your wrists to each bedpost and kept you here. All his for all time. To claim and fuck as he pleased.

You were breathing hard, shifting restlessly on the bed, waiting for him to bury himself in you. It seemed you and Azriel kept returning to the act of burial, whether earthly or bodily.

“Azriel,” you breathed, grounding him. He grasped your knees where they lay on either side of him and gently plied them further apart, bending them up to allow him to look at your swollen sex. You blushed when you realized what he was doing, turning to bury your head in the pillow, but Azriel couldn’t tear his eyes away, admiring the gleam. What he did to your body. Your slick was spilling out of you. He ran his fingers through it. You flinched, still sensitive from release, but he didn’t let up, pushing his fingers into you—just needing to feel you. Your thighs shook as he did.

Azriel was harder than marble and needed to be inside you again.

He lined himself up, and before you had the chance to truly catch your breath, he was plunging again. You gasped, hands finding his chest. Azriel pushed inside, relishing the tight fit. He leaned over you, snaking his arms beneath your back. He rested his weight on his forearms where they pressed between your body and the mattress. His hands found their place on your shoulders, gripping them tightly from beneath. The position allowed him to use your frame to haul you onto his length as he pleased.

He fucked you harder than before, and there was nothing you could do but take it, mouth gaping and brows pinching at the overwhelming control he held. At the ecstasy he thrust into your body that made your head spin. At the utter power contained in his body, the ease with which he moved over you and inside you. You were encompassed by the mass of him, all corded muscles pressing into your torso and thick arms beneath you. You gripped his neck, scratching his skin, listening to the sharp slap of his hips against yours.

He was in your womb, so deep that there was a bite of pain with each thrust, but it was him and you wanted every part of him. The pleasure was so overwhelming that you stopped breathing, body tense as you tried to acclimate to it once again. Azriel rested his forehead on yours, lips brushing against yours. Not kissing you, just breathing against your mouth. You let out a choked whimper. “That’s it,” he growled. “Good girl. You can take it.” You heaved air into your lungs again, surrendering to the hold he had on you, physically and whatever tugged you to him beyond. Surrendered to the pleasure, no longer resisting it even as it stunned every nerve ending.

You relaxed, rode the waves, drowned in them. “Good fucking girl,” he breathed again, feeling the shift to pliability in your body. On a baser level, he understood that you were yielding to him. You were safe with him, and you were his. The urgency in his thrusts calmed, but he shifted his hold, and wrapped his arms around your waist, slotting himself against you. He buried his face in your neck, and you wrapped your arms around his shoulders.

Still soft in his arms, still taking him.

He felt his release cresting but didn’t want to stop. Didn’t want this to end. Your thighs were shaking around his waist. “I’m coming inside you,” he breathed into your hair, making you whimper again.

“Please, please,” you panted. He knew you were nearing your release as well, knew you likely couldn’t take more given how thorough he’d been with you. Azriel reverted to hurried movements, memorizing how he dragged against your walls. How warm and tight you were, still clamping down on him like iron, impossibly tighter as he dragged you closer. Your breathing halted again as release tore through you. You cried out, writhing against him.

The pulsating suction of your climax massaged him inside you, making him shudder. He plunged himself into you, putting all his weight into it, fucking you so deep into the mattress as your tightness crested his pleasure.

He finally stopped moving, releasing his seed deep inside you. It was the longest and hardest he’d ever come, leaving him shaking above you, panting.

You soothed shaky hands down his back, and Azriel finally eased his weight off you. Remaining buried inside you, he shifted his arms to bracket your frame, raising to look at you.

Beneath him, your eyes were droopy but bright as you watched him back. That he found sincere trust in them, that there was softness after all he’d done to you only made his chest ache. You truly did give yourself to him. “I—I don’t want to pull out,” he admitted lowly, voice hoarse.

You stroked his cheeks, hands still unsteady. “Then don’t,” you whispered. Azriel snuck an arm beneath your waist again, this time guiding you to lay on top of him as he turned to rest on his back, careful to keep himself tucked inside you. You gasped, sensitive and overstimulated, but took it patiently as he settled himself into the bed, settlling yourself against his chest. He stroked down your form against him, soothed the tremors in your arms and legs.

Whatever part of him existed before that could bear to be without you was dead. Perhaps this is the burial he’d been haunted by night after night. His immortality rebirthed with his consummated bride. He pulled the sheets over your bodies, kissing the crown of your head.

He’d learn to be with you less intensely, to want you more sanely. But not tonight—tonight, he was finally going to rest in peace, buried with you, buried inside you.

His bride in your marriage bed.

~

taglist: @iimisty-a @feyretopia @aroseinvelaris @cullenswife @reiincarnatiion @sfhsgrad-blog @answer-the-sirens @mrstangerinejohnson @marigold-morelli @courtofjurdan @azriels-mate123 @emotionless-lover @marina468 @slvtherinseeker @owllover123 @banasheefan56 @nyotamalfoy

[bouquetface]

PAC: The end of your 2024

Please keep in mind, I am very specific in my readings. Not every reading you come across it for you. Don’t let the content stress or excite you too much. Take it as entertainment.

IF YOU CANT DECIDE BASED ON PHOTO, EACH PILE BEGINS WITH ASTRO PLACEMENTS THAT I PICKED UP ON.

1

WARNING: This reading contains darker topics like death. Please keep in mind tarot isn’t set in stone. It’s a read of the current energies surrounding the topic.

YOUR PLACEMENTS:

Scorpio Asc/First House

Pisces Moon esp @ 10-15 degrees

Libra Moon esp @ 7-9 degrees

Gemini Asc/First House

This reading begins with a change in home and family. This may have already occurred or soon will this Fall.

Some of you may be moving. Some of you may have a family member or roommate moving out. Some of you may experience a death in the family - pet, elder parent or grandparent or aunt/uncle, etc. There is a letting go occurring in the home and family.

For most, this is not a surprise. You may have planned the move for the Fall. You may know this family member or roommate is leaving. You may know someone in the family is very sick - comments about death/dying may have already been made.

This change in home and family will have taken place Aug-October. As a result, late Oct- early Nov, you will now step into a new chapter of life.

Potential changes pile 1 will experience:

❤️‍🔥 You may begin to change/adapt to your new way of living in your new home environment.

❤️‍🔥 You may make changes to your appearance. These changes could be on the face. Ex: New hairstyle, New skincare, Lip filler, Eyelash extensions, etc. Be cautious of impulsive change. Some may regret this change later.

❤️‍🔥 You may feel inspired to embrace sag themes- make plans or take action on travel & higher education. You may feel philosophical - questioning or embracing your religious/spiritual beliefs.

In November, you will meet new people. This could be due to a new career/job, having moved to a new place or school, etc. This person or people could have sag placements, be from a different ethnic, racial, or religious background.

In November, 2nd H is highlighted. Income, possessions, and money in general are prominent. By late Nov - early Dec, you could find a job, be promoted, or make a big financial choice (selling a possession, purchasing something big).

Be sure to read the fine print. Don’t be impulsive with your choices around this time. Rather than a physical appearance change, it may be this financial change you regret. There is a lot of room for error around this time. Regret may be dramatic. It’s more likely you may make a clerical error that will be an inconvenience to go fix.

2

YOUR PLACEMENTS:

Sag South Node esp @ 15-18 degrees

Libra Rising esp @ 6-1 degrees

Cancer Mars esp @ 25-29 degrees

You could have conflict with a family member early Fall. This may be a sibling or someone who acts immaturely. Or they could be a literal child. Major childish energy from this person.

You could be cutting ties with this person. It may not be forever for most of you. Some of you simply need to temporarily let this person go in order to regain your peace of mind.

Nov-Dec, Venus themes are prominent - money, love, beauty. South Node card indicates it’s because there is a decrease/letting go. It may be karmic for some of you.

Some of you could end a relationship (platonic, romantic or business). It won’t be a surprise. You’ll likely feel this connection fading out early Fall. The disappointment or stress from this could make you care less for yourself. You may indulge yourself with food or shopping. However, if you are the person who neglects themselves when sad, you may unintentionally loose weight.

You could feel very drained nov-dec.

Possible EXAMPLES:

💜 You could make financial purchases that literally drain your bank account.

💜 You could feel very tired and unmotivated. Seasonal depression.

💜 For some of you in specific, the drained and tired feeling is due to a health matter - pregnancy, cold/flu, injury, etc.

Unfortunately, mid to late Fall seems to be a lot of deep reflecting. You could feel hopeless. You could question the path you’re on. There will be some good moments - you could be celebrating someone else (birthdays, graduation, weddings, engagement, etc).

Truthfully, it seems seeing this event (in person or on socials) will only make you feel worse about your own situation. There is so much inner turmoil here. None of it seems to be coming as a surprise.

On the bright side, at the end of Dec, it seems you are replanning for the future. Some of you may find a new job or be promoted.

3

YOUR PLACEMENTS:

Aqua Rising/First house esp early degrees

SCORPIO MC esp @ 7-10 degrees

Venus Gemini esp @ 20-25 degrees

Scorpio Placements esp @ 7-19 degrees

🍂🍂🍂 🍂🍂🍂

This reading starts with a shocking & sudden change. You may have already experienced this or soon will.

Possible manifestations of this:

🍂 You could have made sudden changes to your appearance.

🍂 You could be changing your life direction. Your mindset towards life could be changing. It may be initially darker.

🍂 You may have undergone some kind of crisis. You could be having troubles with home or family. You could have experienced a painful ending of some sort.

There are some feelings & thoughts you can’t repress anymore. This will become more clear early Fall.

10th H Card - This suggests this change may have to do with your reputation and career. Late Oct - Early Nov, you may get a fresh start in career - new job, promotion, new role, etc. You may embrace a teacher role regardless of what you do. People may look to you for help around this time.

You could feel powerful. Some of you will seriously be stepping into a higher role/elevated status.

You may meet people especially Nov-Dec. There is potential for romance. Either you or them will approach cautiously due to past experiences. I can’t promise this spark will go far for everyone. Some of you may find this person or you want to keep things casual/friendly.

[smusherina]

yard work - chapter 4 (regina george x reader)

fandom: Mean Girls (all media)

pairing: Regina George x OFC/Reader

summary: You'd been in the same class as Regina George since kindergarten. You'd lived on the same street even longer. Once upon a time, when life was sandbox disputes and who got the swing first arguments, you'd even been friends. Now, in junior year of high school, you doubted she even remembered you. The same couldn't be said about you. You definitely remembered her.

warning(s): homophobia becomes a central theme. mention of a close dead relative. internalized misogyny.

chapter 1 / chapter 2 / chapter 3 / chapter 5

You were sitting on the grass under the bleachers when Janis 'Imi'ike came up to you.

"I'm not selling right now." You said, suspecting she was here to see about buying alcohol or something. You had a contact and made a small bit in commissions around the school selling stuff.

"I'm- what? What're you selling?" Oh, well, guess not then.

"Nothing." You didn't want to incriminate yourself. It was bad enough you were smoking a cigarette right this moment. You took another drag. Usually, you didn't smoke during school but today was turning out to be a shittier day than usual.

"I'm not a nark, I could-" She seemed to shake herself. "Anyway. Why did you come to school with Regina today?"

"You saw that?" You inquired, alarmed but making an attempt to hide it.

"Yes. Now, why?"

"We live on the same street. Her car was having issues." You shrugged, trying to play it off.

"How'd you know her car was having issues?" She did not seem inclined to just let it go. It was beginning to annoy you.

"Because I fix it from time to time. Like I said, we live on the same street. We're not friends or anything." While you didn't like lying, especially not when you yourself were bitter about it, protecting Regina's rep was more important.

"I think that's a lie. We went to the same middle school for a while. You were close back then." She accused, crouching to be at level with you. You were officially annoyed now.

"You used to be close too." You took another drag and, noticing your cig was on its last leg, stamped it on the ground. "And how'd that turn out?"

Janis gritted her teeth. "Not well."

"Exactly." You gave her a tight, snarky smile and stood up. "Bye."

"Wait a minute!" She jogged after you as you made for the school building. "I'm not done!"

"I think you are." You called back, hastening your step. "There's nothing for us to talk about, Janis."

"Dude! You're being a huge dick right now." Janis caught up to you, gesturing as if she were offended. "Why are you so touchy?"

"I'm not touchy, I'm pissed that a stranger is getting all up in my business." You informed her curtly. "Lay off."

She held her hands up in surrender, an infuriating smirk on her face. "What business do you have with Regina?"

You halted and dropped your backpack on the ground. "What is your problem?" You advanced on her, not exactly squaring up but still getting a little too close for comfort.

"Woah, protective, aren't you?" She wasn't intimidated in the least. That only angered you more. "Has she ditched Cady already and found a new pet?"

"If I were you, I'd watch my mouth." You said as menacingly as you could.

"We could help each other out, y'know." She said, playing innocent.

"Why would I help you with anything?"

"Because she hurt both of us." You had to agree with that, however reluctantly. "I want revenge. She needs to go down." Now, that you did not agree with.

"What do you mean?" If they were planning a coup or something, you needed to get the details. You wouldn't be putting up with that shit.

"Cady's gotten an in with the Plastics." You'd never liked that stupid nickname Janis insisted on using. "She's still on the fence about them, but it's only a matter of time before I'm proven right."

"You've infiltrated the popular girl group like 007, great, because Regina wronged you somehow in middle school? Grow up." You rolled your eyes and picked up your backpack.

"She outed me, you douche!" She exclaimed before probably even thinking about it. Realizing what she'd said, she glanced around warily. Nobody was nearby since you were away from the courtyard.

Okay. Well. That made this a lot more complicated. You pinched the bridge of your nose. This was the exact reason you hung around skaters and stoner-wannabes. At least their drama was about graffiti and who had the good kush, not about whatever the fuck this was. You weren't aware you were living in a teen drama.

"Okay." You breathed in deeply. You did not want to be involved, no matter how justified Janis could've been. However, you needed information if you wanted to get in the way. "What've you got?"

A mean grin nearly split her face. Then, in just a second, it melted away. "You won't tell anybody, right? About, uh, that earlier-"

"I sell drugs behind the school, dude." You put it flatly. "You have more flak on me."

"True." She conceded. "So..."

Their plans weren't very well constructed, to be fair. Janis wanted to prove to Cady that Regina was a bitch, her words, and that was sort of just a waiting game. In the meantime, they were collecting information. So far they'd found out about the Burn Book, supposedly a scrapbook that Regina and her friends had filled with mean things about everybody at Northshore. Staff and teachers included. Apparently, Cady hadn't had much time to peruse it, so neither Janis nor you were in it for all she knew.

The concept made you nervous. You could very well be in that book and Cady just hadn't seen it. If everybody was in it, including nobodies like Mary Stigson and Amber D'Alessio, the chance was incredibly high.

You didn't even know what she could've written about you. Over the years you'd shared incredibly vulnerable bits of information with her. She'd shared with you too, but you weren't in any position to weaponize her secrets. You'd been through embarrassing moments that just the two of you knew of, had seen each other cry and rage and experience all sorts of overwhelming emotions, had made it through mortifying tweenhood phases together.

Regina could've written your whole life story, the nastiest highlights at least, without breaking a sweat.

You were like a zombie for the rest of the day. Barely paying attention in class, twirling a pencil in your fingers listlessly as whatever teacher went on and on. You looked up when a sharp, female voice called your name. You apologized to Ms Norbury and pretended to start working.

Calculus class, huh? You looked around, trying to be inconspicuous. You met eyes with Cady Heron. She quickly turned back to her work, writing numbers furiously. So Janis had told her about their new accomplice. Of course, you had every intention to tattle first thing once you talked to Regina again.

You knew she wouldn't want to be seen leaving with you, so you shot her a text that you'd be behind the bleachers waiting. You were her ride, after all. It would've been rude to leave her.

Relaxing somewhere quiet and alone wasn't too bad. You lifted your headphones over your ears and put on a Nirvana CD. Just this morning Regina had called you 'a hobo with a liking for grunge', or something along those lines. You did so love proving her right.

You lit a cigarette in honour of Kurt and closed your eyes. Something about this day, the utterly exhausting events, made you desperate to feel some release. Ever since dropping Regina off, you'd been a fucking mess. Janis having seen the whole thing and then coming to conspire against Queen Bee hadn't helped. You wished things could be spelt out for you.

Did Regina like you? Yes or no. You knew it wasn't that simple, that things weren't simple for her like they were for you. You liked her and so it was easy to let her walk all over you. You liked her so, of course, you sided with her even when Janis and you had a camaraderie. You liked her and so you chose not to think about the horrible thing she'd done to Janis.

Was it only a matter of time before she'd use that secret against you, too? Did it hang above your head even now?

"Hey, loser, stub the cig and let's get outta here. I'm sick of this joint."

"Who taught you to talk like that?" You opened your eyes and looked up at Regina. "Certainly not your father."

"What daddy doesn't know won't hurt him." She offered her hand to pull you up. "C'mon. I have a nail appointment to get to."

You hauled yourself up with her help. Over-balancing a little bit you tipped into her space, and for a moment there you breathed the same air. You took a hasty step back and tuned back into the conversation.

"And- and how're you gonna get there?" You already knew.

"We don't have enough time to go to mine first, so..." She smiled sweetly at you, getting that calculating look in her eye as she grabbed your arm and pulled it close to her chest. Looking up at you through her lashes, long nails stroking down your forearm, a smile so alluring it was evil on her face, she knew she had you. You couldn't say no.

Gulping, you inclined your head. "I'll take you."

"Thanks, babe." And with that, she pressed her purse into your arms to carry and skipped ahead.

Fuck. Fuck. You closed your eyes and fought off a groan. You'd almost forgotten the crush you'd nursed for her back then. It hadn't ever left, you knew that much, but it hadn't smacked you in the face quite like this before. You were familiar with moments that made your heart beat fast, scenarios that played on a loop in your head, and dreams you could never really make sense of. Now, though, hearing her call you babe and the physical reaction it evoked, there was no plausible explanation other than the obvious fact: You had a crush on Regina George.

You knew—knew—that it was hopeless. There was no world in which you and Regina could be a thing. Or maybe there was, but that was a pipe dream you'd do no good in entertaining. Your dad didn't care about who you dated, but you were sure he would be none too pleased. Regina's dad was a whole other case. He was way stricter than your dad, though just as distant.

You'd done this before. It would be fine. Admittedly, back when you'd been actively crushing on Regina you had been twelve and under. Back then you'd still tolerated skirts and girly hairstyles. Back then it'd been socially acceptable to cling to your friend like a koala, kiss her cheeks and hold her hand. If you tried that shit now, especially looking like you did, it would not slide.

(You'd been called slurs around the halls before. While you didn't generate much rumours or hubbub, you knew that you existed in people's peripherals in a certain way. They'd snidely ask if you liked the Ellen Show. Make vile hand gestures at you when you passed by. Garry Fort, resident church boy and social outcast, had even offered to pray for you. You had refused.)

"Jorts! Get a move on!" Regina shouted, a good distance away.

"Yeah yeah," You muttered, but picked up the pace.

"What took you so long?" She asked as she settled into the front seat.

"Lost in thought, I guess." Waxing melancholy about how we could never be together, sweetums. You opted not to say that. "So, where's this appointment?"

"Just drive to town, I'll give instructions."

"Sure thing." You bit your lip and tapped your fingers on the steering wheel. You hadn't had your licence for long but you'd been driving for much longer than that. You were a good driver. Back when you'd been young enough for your dad to feel obligated to spend time with you, he'd taken you to some backroads and taught you. Then, when that stopped, you'd done it illegally. Hey, girls gotta keep busy somehow.

"What's on your mind?" Regina asked, breaking the silence that'd turned uncomfortable.

"Hmm? Oh, nothing." You swallowed. "How was your day?"

"How was my day, seriously?" She turned her body to face you, arms crossed and a displeased look on her face. "What is it?"

You tried to think of something to say. You didn't want to ruin her whole day by revealing she had a spy, of all things. You'd planned on waiting a little bit before telling her. You would've maybe taken her for a ride and then gently broken the news.

So, that was a bust.

"Cady Heron is spying on you. She's retelling everything you're doing together with Gretchen and Karen to Janis and her friend Damien Leigh." You blurted it all out. "I was smoking in my usual spot and she just came up to me. And, uh, recruited me. Apparently, she saw you leave my car this morning."

"What?" Regina screeched, face slack with shock as well as strained with fear, panic, and all sorts of jumbled emotions. "Did anybody else see?"

"I don't know!" Your shoulders lifted all the way up to your ears in a panicked shrug. Her emotions were rubbing off on you and you did not like it. "Did people act weird around you today?"

"No," She paused to think. "No, everything was fine. Karen liked my top."

"You mean my top?" You corrected.

"Whatever." Regina looked out of the window contemplatively. "Are you plotting against me?"

You rolled your eyes, and took your sights off the road for a second to shoot her a look. "If I was, would I be telling you?"

"I dunno, I vividly remember you being sorta stupid."

"Wow, thanks, Reg, that's high praise coming from you. Only sorta."

"Shut up. You're so annoying." She unfolded her arms and leaned back in the seat. "Cady Heron. A spy."

"Janis told me, and I quote: "She needs to go down." Which was pretty dramatic in my opinion." Regina didn't say anything. "I mean, we're in high school."

"What does that have to do with anything?" Regina inspected her nails. Pretty acrylics, sharp and lethal, decorated with gems and swirls. A little grown out, sure, but still in perfect condition.

"I just mean that..." You thought about what you wanted to say. "Y'know, on average women in America die, like, between seventy and eighty years old. We're less than a quarter of that right now. Five years from now, I bet the problems we have now will seem stupid and insignificant. And then five years, or ten, from that, the issues then will look the same way."

"Morbid." She turned to look at you. You couldn't tell what her expression was like, in the middle of changing lanes to pass a car going way under the limit. "Are you always this philosophical?"

"I could be. If you wanted me to be." You wondered if that edged a little too close to flirty.

"No. It's insufferable." You didn't know how to respond to that. "I don't fucking care about the grand scheme of things. My problems aren't stupid or insignificant now, so it's no fucking use thinking, oh, it'll all be fine with time! Well, it won't be, if I don't do something right now." She ranted, waving her hands as she did. "And I will argue that women die much earlier than that."

"It's a statistic, Reg-"

"No, women die at menopause at the latest. They get sad, saggy and undesirable and they die." She said with such conviction that it shook you. "When you stop being beautiful, it's all over."

"Regina, that's..." Wrong. Incorrect. A horrible way to think. "I don't think that's true."

"Women like my mom have nothing to offer. When dad stopped wanting her and started looking elsewhere, when she stopped being asked out at the grocery store and they started asking me, when Kylie poked at her flab and asked what her stretch marks were, she died."

Listening to her talk like that, about her mom nonetheless, was heartbreaking. Still, you couldn't help getting angry. "Your mom is alive and well, Reg. Your dad cheating isn't her fault, it's him being an awful human being. Being asked out at the grocery store isn't like receiving a fucking Nobel prize. Flab and stretch marks are what you did to her body. What Kylie did to her body." You bit your lip when it started wobbling. You bit down harshly to stop it.

You continued even when your voice crackled. "My mom's always gonna be young and beautiful. She's gonna always gonna have smooth, wrinkle-free skin. I won't get to ask about her flab or stretch marks. Not ever." Regina was quiet. You could feel her eyes on you. "You don't get to complain about growing old. Mrs George's been like a mom to me, you know that, so don't fucking insult her in front of me. You can get all the botox and surgeries you want, but I'm not gonna sit here and listen to that shit."

"Sorry." She said, quietly. She'd never been good at apologies.

"It's fine." You wiped at your eyes. "I'm sorry for freaking out."

"No, it's... That was stupid." She mostly muttered, now sunken into the seat.

You shouldn't have raved at her like that. Unpacking all that she said would've been much easier with a clear head. Now you were both stuck in this tension. Tears drying on your cheeks and snot in your nose, you wished things would be easier. You wished Regina had never been taught to think like she did, that she'd see herself like you saw her.

"I think you'll still be pretty when you're forty." You put it out there, going for casual.

"You don't have to lie." She huffed, assuredly rolling her eyes.

"I'm not lying. I don't think a few wrinkles are enough to ruin your face."

"I'm not gonna get wrinkles. By the time I'm old enough to get them, there's gonna be technology to prevent signs of ageing entirely."

You laughed at that. "Are you gonna pioneer that?"

"You think I'd be smart enough?"

"I think you're very intelligent, Regina."

"Hm." You could tell she was pleased, though she was looking away. "Take left here."

"Yes, ma'am."

Notes: I'm writing these abnormally fast. Usually, I'm a total sloth with these things. I guess the instant gratification of notes really is addicting. If I suddenly drop off, I promise I didn't die I just ran out of steam.

I have no idea how long this series will be. I have a general outline and character arcs going in my head, but I'm purposefully not drafting anything. I've noticed that when I plan too much I just feel like I've already written the story and don't wanna put any of the work in. So, with this method, though it has its flaws, I won't get bored of my own ideas!

Also, just to sort of put it out there in writing, they're meant to be flawed characters. OC might be self-aware to a point, but she too has her shortcomings. While Regina's more obviously flawed, neither of them are saints. They're teenagers with shitty home lives, they're gonna be fucked up. That also includes Janis and Cady. They're all dumb teenagers with unresolved issues.

Taglist: @autorasexy, @wedfan2, @unadulterated-moron, @modernsapphicism, @9unknown0, @sage-rose2000, @massive-honkas, @nattys-swiftie, @likefirenrain, @luz-enjoyer

[kwanisms]

» stray kids masterlist | collab masterlist «

➮ hyunjin x f!reader

wc: 20.1k

summary: Y/N never expected to run into her ex again, especially not at a holiday party of all places. Nor did she expect for him to offer to drive her home when her ride bails on her. She definitely did not expect Hyunjin’s car to get stuck in the snow and for them to have to spend the night at an elderly couple’s house where they, unsurprisingly, have to share a room and even more unsurprisingly, there’s only one bed.

genres/themes/au: angst, smut; holiday themes, rekindled relationship, exes to lovers, one bed; non idol au

warnings: adult dialogue, female reader, alcohol consumption, mention of previous alcohol abuse, flashbacks of toxic relationship, mentions of arguing and fighting (nothing physical except pushing and MC hitting Hyunjin's chest), sexual content (18+ mdni), see smut warnings under the cut!

special tags: @millennial-fangirl @twisted-tales-of-all @staytinyville @skyechild

permanent taglist: @yoonguurt @wonderfulshinee @candidupped @dejavernon @violagoth @tigermoonbiss @katsukis1wife @luvsooby @surveilenceysystem @salty-for-suga @devilsmatches @dmnspiit @simeonswhore @yangracha @atinypurr @aikyubi @labyrinthonmymind @bintificreads @toxic-babexe @plutoneu @prestineaugstine @sunwoosbaby @lilramennoodle @deadgirlwalking3 @tigerhoshi25 @chocolate-scoups @spilled-coffee-cup @aaniag @ayoo-bangtan @walkingtravesty97 @yevene @certifiedmoa @nottkwiwin

stray kids taglist: @cixrosie @hoeforcheol @smhlino @cutiespaghetti @peterparkoure @chubbyanarkiss @anyamaris @nattisbored @mlysalt @cinnamoon-belle @briannabk22 @vampiirose @plants-w0rld @0325tiny @justiny @lacie220900 @dementedaly to be contin.

join my taglists!

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MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED.

AGELESS BLOGS WILL ALSO BE BLOCKED.

a/n: my first piece was nothing but tooth rotting sweet fluff but I knew from the get go when I picked Hyune for this collab that I wanted to write angst for him. That being said, NO. I WILL NOT BE WRITING A SEQUEL TO THIS TO GIVE THEM A PROPER HAPPY ENDING. The ending is up to reader interpretation. So please do not ask for a part 2 because there will not be one. Thank you so much for reading and joining us on this collab! The Tales from Camp Holiday Special begins now and once that’s over, I will be focusing on Under Your Skin. If you are a SVT fan, you can read the OG Tales from Camp here and the Holiday Special here. And for those of you who are SKZ fans, consider checking out Under Your Skin here. As always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only.

smut warnings: unprotected sex (wrap it up), dirty talk, slight voice kink, use of pet names (baby, angel, sweetheart, etc.), oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), handjob (m receiving), lowkey lovemaking, biting (f receiving), slight possessive sex, soft dom!Hyunjin, sub!Reader, it’s hot and heavy and Hyunjin is clearly very much in love still. If I missed any, pls let me know!

═══════════════════════════════════════════════════════

“Promise me you won’t ditch me the moment the doors open,” you whined, looking at your friend who gave you a blank look. “You know I can’t promise you that!” Kaia said as she raised her fist to knock on the door. It opened a moment later, warmth reaching out to pull you both into the house. You clung to your friend as you removed your coats and they were hung up and put in a room off the foyer.

The house was a typical suburban American home. The walls were an off white color, decorations like something out of a Christmas catalog. The partygoers were dressed in varying shades of red, green, white, gold, and the like.

The white vaulted ceilings reflected light to make the rooms appear even larger and brighter than they already were. A massive fifteen foot pine tree dominated the far corner of the living room, professionally decorated with gold and red baubles, strings of white lights sweeping across the branches and small faux icicles hung from the tips of the branches. Under the tree lay a red tree skirt with gold embroidery, perfectly wrapped gifts lying atop the red fabric.

You followed Kaia further, not wanting to lose sight of her as you made your way to the kitchen.

The open concept floor plan into the kitchen made the already large space seem just even larger. The white quartz counters contrasted with the dark gray shaker cabinets with golden hardware. A massive kitchen island separated the spaces, decorated with an assortment of snacks.

Along the wall leading into a breakfast nook was a table with even more food and at the back of the breakfast nook room was an actual bar set up where a young woman with blonde hair curled and neatly tied back was making drinks for patrons.

In the kitchen Kaia dragged you over to the bar and ordered drinks. Once your drink was in your hand, Kaia pulled you aside and scanned the room. She waved at a few people, sipping on her drink as you eyed the food, wanting to eat something so you weren’t drinking on an empty stomach.

Before you could say anything, Kaia was downing the rest of her drink, ordering another before she looked at you. “You’re on your own,” she simply said before leaving your side and making her way across the room where she introduced herself to someone you didn’t recognize.

‘Bitch,’ you thought to yourself as you rolled your eyes. You made your way over to the table to grab a small plate, adding an assortment of hors d'oeuvres to it before sneaking off to the side and out of the way. You nibbled at your food, sipping your drink intermittently as you watched the party unfold around you.

It hadn’t even been your idea to come here. Kaia had begged you to come with her for a week straight until you caved and agreed but on the condition she didn’t ditch you once here.

She clearly didn’t hold up her end of the bargain.

As you ate, a couple people you did recognize came up and chatted with you politely and you felt a little better, knowing more than just your awful so-called friend. You saw a couple of people from your previous workplace as well as some old college acquaintances.

About an hour into your arrival and three White Russians later, you were exiting the bathroom when you bumped into something hard and stumbled slightly. Kaia had insisted you wore these heels and you were starting to regret letting her talk you into it. You were regretting a lot of things regarding Kaia truthfully but it wasn’t the night to get into it.

Looking up as you smoothed your dress out, you started to apologize until you saw the face of the person you’d just run into.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.”

The look on your ex’s face was one of pure shock. He clearly wasn’t expecting to see you either.

You turned away from him, intent on finding Kaia and leaving. This was a mistake. You never should have come here tonight. “Y/N, wait.” you heard him say, feeling his hand gently grab your arm. You pulled sharply from his grip and glared at him.

Hyunjin fell silent, holding his hand up in surrender before you stormed away to find your friend.

It didn’t take long to find her, perched on the lap of the guy she’d ditched you for as he sat on one of the pristine white couches in the living room. You weaved through the crowd, stopping by her to glare down at her. “Y/N!” she said excitedly. “I was just coming to find you! We’re about to play a game!”

You grabbed Kaia by the wrist, dragging her up and off the guy’s lap, leading her away from the group.

“Y/N, what the hell?” Kaia hissed as you pulled her to a spot near the wall. “I’m going to ask you something and I want the truth,” you started as Kaia inspected her wrist before looking up at you. “What?” she grumbled. “Did you know Hyunjin was going to be here?” you demanded.

Kaia stared blankly at you for a couple moments before speaking. “Theoretically? I knew there was a chance.” Your mild annoyance turned into blind rage. She knew he might be here and yet she still insisted you come anyway? What was her problem? 

“I want to leave,” you snapped. “Now.” 

Kaia scoffed, rolling her eyes and gested at the door. “Go ahead. Leave,” she replied. Your lips parted in shock. “You’re my ride, Kaia,” you reminded her. “Then I guess if you want me to drive you home, you’re gonna have to stay until I’m ready to leave.”

You glared at her. Ditching you was one thing but knowingly stranding you here was another.

“And what about him?” you hissed, throwing a dirty glance towards Hyunjin who was now nursing a drink. As if sensing you were talking about him, he looked over, meeting your gaze but only for a moment before you looked away. Kaia shrugged. “That’s your problem, babe,” she replied.

Before you could answer, she walked away, taking her previous perch and leaving you to seethe alone.

“Un-fucking-believable!” you hissed as you stormed off, making a path to the bar. If you were going to be forced to be here, might as well make the best of it and get as many free drinks as you could stomach.

You were grumbling to yourself as you waited in line, the guy in front of you kept turning to look at you though it wasn’t annoyance on his face. More like concern. “Are you okay?” he finally asked, having turned back to you. His accent caught you off guard but you nodded all the same. “Rough night?” he asked and you scoffed. “You have no idea.”

He offered a warm smile, holding his hand out for you to shake. “Felix,” he introduced himself. “Y/N,” you replied, shaking his hand. “Want to tell me about it over drinks?” he asked, gesturing to the bar. You couldn’t help but chuckle and nod. Once the two of you got your drinks, you stood off to the side, talking about your lives. What you did for work, how you ended up at this party.

Felix was exceedingly easy to talk to and he kept a smile on your face. He was also a pretty good dancer. You almost couldn’t find a fault with him until he tried to beat you at darts in the rec room downstairs. It’s not like you were a champion when it came to darts but he just really sucked at it.

“So tell me about Straya,” you said in a half convincing Australian accent as the two of you sat on one of the couches in the rec room, taking the place of a couple who got up to get more drinks upstairs. Felix let his arm rest on the back of the couch behind you.

“It’s hot,” Felix answered. “Really hot,” he added. “And there are spiders everywhere.” You shuddered. You hated spiders. “And they’re the really big ones,” he continued. “They’re known to catch lizards and even mice if they’re hungry and fast enough. And boy are they fucking fast,” he added with a laugh.

“Okay, enough with the spiders,” you said with a shiver. “Don’t like them?” Felix asked and you shook your head. “Absolutely not!” Felix chuckled, taking a sip of his drink. “What about the roos?” you asked suddenly, making him give you a peculiar look. “The roos?” he asked.

“Yeah. The kangaroos,” you clarified. Felix let out a chuckle. “Oh, those roos!” he replied.

“Big and mean,” he answered. “The males are super territorial and they’re buff. They’re majorly jacked. They look like bodybuilders.” You covered your mouth as you let out a laugh. “What?” you asked incredulously as Felix nodded.

“They’re mean,” he replied. “They’re not cute and cuddly. They can kill. Those claws on their hands aren’t just for show. And they can kick like a kickboxer.” Your eyes widened. “Wait, really?” you asked. Felix nodded. “You don’t fuck with kangaroos. Same with koalas. They look cute and furry but they also have gnarly claws and they’ll take a swipe at you if given the chance.”

Your perception of Felix’s home continent was changing by the minute as he talked. As your cups emptied, you made your way back upstairs to get more drinks, opting to find a seat in the four seasons room off the living room where it was a little quieter.

“So,” Felix said, taking a sip of his drink and looking up at you.

“What had you so upset earlier?”

Your smile dropped a little as you let out a deep, heavy sigh.

“My friend I came with is being a real bitch right now,” you admitted. “She begged me to come to this party when I didn’t really want to in the first place. She promised if I came with her, she wouldn’t leave my side,” you continued.

“But she ditched you anyway?” Felix asked, prompting you to nod in response. He clicked his tongue, shaking his head as he raised his cup to his lips. “That’s a pretty shitty thing to do,” he agreed. You nodded slowly. “And that’s not all,” you added. Felix glanced up as you settled back against the cushions.

“My ex is here tonight.”

“And that’s bad, I take it?” Felix asked. You nodded.

“We broke up a couple years ago,” you started. “The relationship was… not good. We fought a lot. Constant arguing. We kept accusing the other of cheating. We were constantly at each other’s throats.” Felix nodded slowly. “Who ended it?” he asked before backtracking.

“Sorry,” he stuttered. “That’s really none of my business.” You shook your head, dismissing his apology with your hand. “It’s okay,” you replied. “I broke up with him. I knew if I didn’t do it, it would never happen so I bit the bullet and pulled the trigger.”

Felix let out a sigh. “Man,” he said softly. “That’s rough.” 

“Yeah,” you nodded. “And when I asked my friend that I came with to take me home because I wanted to leave, she basically said to find my own way home.”

“Did she know he was going to be here?” Felix asked, raising his cup to his lips. “She said she knew there was a possibility,” you replied.

Felix’s jaw dropped. “What the fu- look, I’m sorry,” he started. “But you need to find better mates,” he said, shaking his head, baffled by the audacity. “Do you still want to leave?” he asked softly. You nodded. “Yeah,” you replied. “Parties just really aren’t my scene., and seeing my ex really just ruined my entire night.” Felix nodded. “No, I get it,” he replied. “I’m here cause this is actually my cousin’s place and I’m crashing here for the holidays,” he explained.

“But I think I actually might know someone who’s planning to leave soon and he lives in the same direction you’re going so maybe he can give you a ride?” Felix offered. You gave him a smile. “Really?” you asked excitedly. “That would be so amazing!”

Felix smiled at your reaction and got to his feet, holding out his free hand. “Let’s go ask him,” he said, smiling wider as you grabbed his hand and allowed him to pull you up.

“Yes,” you answered. “Let’s ask!”

‘Twice in one night is enough,’ you told yourself as you stared back at Hyunjin while Felix spoke to your ex. Granted, he didn’t know the guy he was trying to ask to give you a ride was your ex-boyfriend. Felix smiled as he turned to you. “It was great meeting you,” he said, holding his hand out for you to shake again. “Hyunjin’s a great guy. He’ll make sure you get home safe!” he added before bidding the two of you goodnight and moving into the next room to rejoin the party.

You crossed your arms over your chest, glaring at him. Hyunjin downed the rest of his soda, tossing the can and turning to you. “Did you bring a coat?” he asked nonchalantly. “I’m not leaving with you.” He ignored your words, instead getting up and fishing his phone out of his pocket.

You watched as he typed across the screen quickly and pocket the device again. “Go get your coat,” Hyunjin said softly. You narrowed your eyes at him. “I’m not leaving with--”

He looked at you, looking slightly annoyed. “Look, either I take you home or you’re stuck at this party. It’s your choice,” he explained. “But I am leaving.” You stared at one another, both unmoving, unblinking until you sighed and rolled your eyes. “Fine,” you snapped. “But I need to get my stuff out of Kaia’s car.”

Hyunjin nodded and gestured forward. “After you.”

You managed to get Kaia’s attention, asking for her keys so you could get your bag out of her car. She gave it up without question as you headed for the front door and got your coat from the coat room. Hyunjin was waiting on the porch for you when you exited the house and walked with you to Kaia’s car, waiting patiently while you got your bag from the back.

He took the bag from you while you ran back in to return Kaia’s keys to her and headed back out. He’d already turned on his car and backed up as close to the door as he could get without going onto the grass. He waited at the base of the steps for you, making sure you didn’t fall and helped you traverse the snow in your boots, even going so far as to open your door for you.

Once inside he returned to his side and got in, clicking his seatbelt in place as he fiddled with the temperature controls. You shivered, holding your hands in front of the heater. Hyunjin put the car in drive and slowly pulled away from the house, following the long driveway back out to the street.

It was snowing when you first arrived at the party with Kaia but more snow had accumulated, covering the roads and was starting to come down heavier as Hyunjin pulled onto the road and started driving in the direction of the city.

“Picked a hell of a day to have the party, didn’t they?” he asked, trying to lighten the mood. You hummed in response, looking out the window at the scenery as Hyunjin crept along. Silence fell over you both again. “Did you want to listen to music?” Hyunjin asked softly. “Oh my god, Hyunjin, I don’t care!” you snapped.

Silence fell once more. 

“Sorry,” you finally said softly. “I’m just really frustrated.”

Hyunjin nodded silently, opting not to turn the radio on.

He continued to drive carefully, remembering the last time he’d driven in snow like this. He’d managed to wreck his first car during a snowstorm and his mother had scolded him to the moon and back about how he needed to be careful. Since then, he’d been overly cautious when it came to driving in the snow.

The car reached a curve in the road and Hyunjin followed it, hands gripping the steering wheel as the back end of his car started to fishtail. “Whoa,” he mumbled. “Hyunjin!” you said, panic in your voice as the car quickly veered out of his control and slid over the edge of the road and down into a ditch.

The impact wasn’t as bad as Hyunjin expected but he was still jerked forward as the car came to an abrupt halt, nose pointing down toward the ditch. The car slowly slid sideways down the steep embankment until it finally stopped moving.

Immediately, Hyunjin put the car in park and looked around seeing nothing but white.

He turned to look at you. “Holy shit, Y/N, are you okay?” he asked, placing a hand on your shoulder. You nodded, looking around and checking yourself over. “Y-yeah,” you stammered. “I’m alright. What about you?” Hyunjin exhaled in relief. “I’m fine,” he answered.

“What about the car?” Hyunjin glanced out his window. “Well, I don’t think we hit anything,” he explained as he looked around, checking his mirrors.

“I’m gonna get out and make sure,” he added. 

Before you could stop him, he opened his door and got out, shutting the door behind him and walked around the car, trudging through the snow as he inspected the outside. He returned moments later, getting back into the car.

“There are no marks outside but it looks pretty stuck,” he said as he shivered, shaking the cold off.

You pulled your phone out and groaned at the no service symbol at the top of the screen. ‘Fuck.’ Hyunjin pulled his phone out and saw he also had no signal. “Shit!” he cursed. “What do we do?” you asked softly, looking up at him. Hyunjin looked around before looking in his rearview mirror.

“Hey, we passed a house, right?” he asked, turning to look out the back windshield. “Uh, I think so?” you replied. “Maybe like a mile back?” Hyunjin nodded, looking at your face. “Okay,” he said softly and turned in his seat.

You watched as he reached into the back seat, digging around for something. He produced a hat and scarf, wrapping the scarf around his neck and pulling the beanie on. He then reached behind your seat and pulled out a blanket. “I’m going to walk to the house to see if anyone is home,” he said as he threw the blanket over your lap.

“You stay here and keep warm,” he added. “I’ll be back with help or good news,” he added as he opened his door and got out, shutting the door behind him. You watched as he climbed up the embankment and started to walk down the street in the direction of the house you’d both seen.

You sighed, pulling the blanket closer around you, a shiver running up your spine as you looked outside the car. Snow was still coming down, joining the blanket already on the ground. You curled further into yourself, trying to preserve whatever warmth you could manage.

You heard the doors lock and readjusted the blanket to cover your legs and looked around his car. It was the same car you remembered him having just before the break up. The one he’d been so excited and proud of because it was the first car he bought when he started his job.

Another shiver went up your spine and you hoped Hyunjin would find help, even shocked that he offered to go find it. In the past, he never would have done so, a memory surfacing of your attempt to go to the beach on a road trip. You managed to get lost on back roads as Hyunjin refused to ask for directions.

[flashback - four years ago]

“Babe, why don’t we just stop and ask for directions?” you asked, looking up from the map. You glanced out the windshield at the rolling farmland surrounding you which was certainly not the beach which you should have been at by that point.

“No,” Hyunjin said flatly, gripping the steering wheel so hard that his knuckles had turned white. He was leaning forward, chest almost pressing against the steering wheel as he tried to get a glance at any sign possible.

You glanced back down at the map, squinting as you tried to figure out where you’d gone wrong. Where had you made the wrong turn? Where were you headed now? You looked back up, turning to look at Hyunjin. “I really think we need to stop and ask for directions,” you started.

“Goddamn it, Y/N, will you just shut the hell up and let me drive?!”

You flinched at the volume of his voice and fell silent. You folded up the map and placed it on the dashboard, leaning back in your seat and looking out the window to keep your boyfriend from seeing the tears that threatened to spill.

Minutes passed in silence as Hyunjin continued to drive, turning down random roads, only to hit a dead end and have to turn around, growing increasingly more and more frustrated. You said nothing, instead indulging in your own sadness as you let the tears flow silently.

“Can you look at the map and see where we are?” Hyunjin asked suddenly, breaking the silence.

You didn’t move. You heard his request but you chose to ignore it, knowing nothing you did would figure out where the hell you were. “Y/N?” Hyunjin asked, slowing to look over at you. He saw the way your arms were crossed over your chest and how you refused to look at him.

“Did you hear me?” he asked, a hint of annoyance in his voice. He really didn’t like it when you ignored him.

“Yes,” you replied softly. “But what difference would it make?” you asked, still not turning to look at him.

“We haven’t seen any signs in hours so I can’t even pinpoint those on the map. We’re lost, Hyunjin.”

You heard him inhale sharply. “So it’s my fault, right?” he snapped and you finally turned to look at him, giving him a glance at your tear stained cheeks. “Yes, Hyunjin,” you retorted. “It is your fault. I told you we should have stopped and asked for directions when we first got off the main road but you refused to listen to me. You just kept going, insisting we didn’t need help. You aren’t a road map. You don’t have a GPS built into your head!”

Hyunjin let out a groan, rolling his eyes. “Well, will you check your phone, then?” he asked.

You grabbed it from the console and unlocked the screen, holding it up for him to see. “No service. How the fuck am I supposed to look it up when I have no service?” Hyunjin turned to glare at you. “Have you never heard of offline maps?” he snapped. “Yeah, you have to download them before you lose signal!”

“Well excuse me for not knowing that! I’m not some know-it-all bitch like you!”

Silence fell over the both of you as your stomach sank. “Stop the car,” you muttered.

Hyunjin looked back at you. “What?” he asked softly. “Stop the car,” you said a little louder. Hyunjin glanced out the windows before looking back over at you. 

“You can’t be serious--”

“Stop the fucking car, Hyunjin!”

[end flashback - the present]

Hyunjin kept his head down, the flurries of snow hitting his hat instead of his face. He reached up to readjust the scarf around his neck to cover the lower half of his face. The cold air was sharp, biting and stinging his skin as he walked, the wind blowing through him despite his heavy coat.

“Fucking hell,” he cursed. “It’s freezing!”

As he walked, he was reminded of the time the two of you had taken a road trip to the beach and gotten lost. After an argument outside the car, he finally managed to get you back into the car and start heading back the way you’d come only to run out of gas just before you got onto the main road. He snorted as he remembered his ignorance and refusal to listen to reason.

He was young, dumb, and thought he knew everything.

He thought he was above asking for directions but he knew better now. He knew it was okay to ask for help. In that, he knew he had grown as a person at least.

[flashback - four years ago]

“Now what,” you sighed exasperatedly as the car started to sputter, slowing as Hyunjin looked down at the dashboard. His eyes scanned for an engine light or something similar but felt his heart sink as he noticed the gas gauge was sitting on the little white E.

“Shit,” he hissed. You looked up at him. “What?” you asked as the car rolled to a stop. Hyunjin cut the engine and leaned back in his seat, letting out an annoyed huff. “We’re out of gas.”

You stared at him, stunned. “Are you fucking kidding me?” He shook his head. “I wish I were.”

You hesitated before finally moving. Hyunjin watched as you grabbed your purse and phone, hastily unbuckling your seatbelt before yanking open the car door and getting out. Hyunjin opened his door and stood up, one foot still in the car as you started walking.

“Y/N, where are you going?” he called. 

“I’m going to find a gas station!” 

Hyunjin sighed, shutting his door and starting after you. “Not by yourself, you’re not!” he called as he jogged to catch up to you. “You can’t just walk out here in the middle of nowhere by yourself, Y/N.” You ignored him and kept walking. 

He knew you were still reeling from the earlier fight.

Hyunjin caught up to you rather easily, grabbing your arm only for you to pull from his grip. “Don’t touch me!” you shouted. Hyunjin grabbed your arm again, pulling you back and turning you to face him. “Y/N,” he started as you struggled to pull out of his grip. “Don’t touch me!”

“Y/N, stop,” Hyunjin said calmly, trying to hold you in place. “Stop, stop it,” he continued.

“Y/N, stop it!” he finally shouted as he gently shook you. You stared up at him in shock before you hit his chest with your fist. “Don’t fucking yell at me!” you shouted back, hitting his chest again, albeit not very hard. Hyunjin took your face in his hands.

“Get your hands off me,” you growled, fighting back tears. “I’m sorry,” he said firmly. “I’m sorry for what I said earlier,” he continued as you looked up at him. “And I’m sorry for not listening to you.” The tears you’d been holding back finally spilled and a sob escaped you.

Hyunjin pulled you into a tight hug. “I’m so sorry, baby,” he whispered into your hair. “I shouldn’t have said that and I shouldn’t have yelled at you.” You cried softly into his chest. “I’m just frustrated,” he continued. “I know that’s no excuse. But I am sorry.”

“I got us into this mess and I’m sorry.”

He continued to hold you tightly, swaying the both of you back and forth until your sobs subsided. Hyunjin pulled back, taking your face in his hands, thumbs wiping your tears away. “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s go find a gas station,” he said softly, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead.

[end flashback - the present]

Hyunjin lifted his head, relief flooding his body as he caught sight of the driveway he’d driven past earlier. He continued down the drive, leaving deep footprints as he trudged through the deep snowfall.

As he continued, trees lining the driveway, lights from the house came into view. He continued to amble through the snow, making his way to the front porch. He hoped it wasn’t too late as he carefully climbed the steps. Hyunjin raised his fist and knocked loudly, quickly tucking his hands into his pockets.

It took a couple moments but through the frosted glass, Hyunjin could see shadows moving towards the door, the sound of the lock clicking before the door cracked open. “Yes?” a voice asked. Hyunjin pulled his scarf down, offering an awkward smile. “Hi,” he said breathlessly. “I’m so sorry to disturb you so late but my car’s slid off the road and into a ditch just down the road from your driveway,” he explained.

“My friend and I don’t have service on our phones and I was wondering if I could perhaps use a phone or if you might know someone who could help us get the car unstuck?”

The door opened a bit more to reveal an older gentleman. He had gray hair, wore round spectacles and had light blue eyes. He wore a simple gray plaid button up tucked into black pants, a dark blue cardigan over the shirt. “Your friend?” he asked, looking around for a second person.

“Yeah, she’s wearing a dress and heels,” Hyunjin explained. “We’ve just come from a party down the road,” he added, anxiety starting to build. ‘What if this man just told him to leave and slammed the door in his face?’ Hyunjin was very much aware of how suspicious this sounded.

Another figure appeared, an older woman Hyunjin assumed was the man’s wife. “Oh Larry,” she said softly. She wore a white and black floral button down blouse, a khaki maxi skirt and a light pink knit cardigan over her shirt. Her silvery hair was curled and styled. Gold wire framed glasses hung around her neck.

“They need help,” she added as she joined her husband. “Where’s the car?” the man, Larry, asked. Hyunjin pointed over his shoulder. “Just a mile down from the end of your driveway,” he answered. The man nodded and moved from the door.

“Are you hurt at all?” the woman asked and Hyunjin shook his head. “No, we’re okay. Mostly just shaken up. The car seems to be fine, too,” he added. “It’s just stuck in the ditch.” The woman offered a warm smile, putting Hyunjin’s nerves at ease.

The man returned moments later, dressed for the weather and sat on a bench to put on his boots. “Be careful,” his wife said as he got up, pulling on a thermal hood before putting on his gloves. He grabbed a shovel and stepped out onto the porch to join Hyunjin. “I’ll be back in a bit, Edi,” he said, pulling the bottom of his cowl up to cover his mouth and nose.

The door shut and Hyunjin led the way down the porch, the man, Larry following him. “You have no idea how much I appreciate this,” Hyunjin said as they walked side by side. “What’s your name, son?” the man asked him. “Hyunjin,” he answered. “Hwang Hyunjin. My friend is Y/F/N Y/L/N.”

“I’m Lawrence,” the man introduced himself. “That was my wife Edith.”

They reached the end of the driveway and started down the road to where the car sat. Hyunjin hoped that they’d be able to get the car out of the ditch so he could get you home. He didn’t want to force you to spend more time with him than necessary as it seemed you already didn’t want to be around him.

“Where did you say you were coming from, again?” Lawrence asked. “A party down the road. About ten miles. It’s my friend’s cousin’s house,” Hyunjin explained as they neared the car. Snow had begun to collect on the surface, covering the windows. “Boy, it’s really coming down,” Lawrence noted.

“You really managed to dig yourselves in here,” he added as he looked at the car. Hyunjin nodded slowly. “Yeah, honestly, we just slid right off the road and I tried to back out a few times but the back wheels couldn’t catch on anything. Too much snow.” Lawrence nodded as he walked over to the back of the car, carefully dragging his feet through the snow.

“Snow’s too powdery,” he added as he kicked at the snow. “And it’s not packed down, so you would get any traction.” Hyunjin nodded as he spoke before he remembered you sitting in the car. “I’m gonna check on Y/N,” he announced and walked over to the driver’s side door, wiping the snow away with a gloved hand. “He peered in before opening the door and looking in.

“I brought someone who might be able to help,” he explained. You nodded. Hyunjin could tell you looked cold. He kneeled onto his seat and looked behind his seat into the back of the car. He removed his glove, grabbing another blanket and tugged it out from under a duffle bag.

“Here,” he said, handing it to you. “We’re gonna try and dig the car out or pack some snow under the wheel and see if we can’t get the wheels to get any traction.” You took the second blanket and immediately spread it out over you. “What if you can’t get the car out?” you asked, your voice soft.

Hyunjin pulled his hat off and scratched the back of his head before running his fingers through his hair a couple times. “I don’t know,” he finally said, putting his hat back on. “I’ll keep you updated,” he added before getting out and shutting the door again. Hyunjin moved back around to the back of the car with Lawrence who was bent over, peering at the back wheels.

“Well,” he started as he stood up straight. “We could pack snow under these tires for hours and you probably still won’t get enough traction to get out. This embankment is too steep. You’re gonna need someone to pull her out,” he explained. Hyunjin’s heart sank as Lawrence spoke. He’d feared as much.

“What are we supposed to do?” Hyunjin asked softly. “I suppose I could call my road-side assistance,” he continued. “But they may not be able to get out here until after the snow lets up.” Lawrence nodded. “And they run the risk of getting stuck themselves.”

Hyunjin sighed, looking up and down the deserted road. “I’m sure Edi wouldn’t mind if you came and stayed with us for the night. Hopefully in the morning, the snow will have let up and the crews are out clearing the roads so you can be on your way,” Lawrence explained.

Hyunjin turned to look at him. “Wait, really?” he asked. Lawrence nodded. “Seems like your only option at this point. Otherwise you’d be forced to stay out here and that could kill you.” Hyunjin nodded and moved to the door, pulling it open and ducking down to peer in.

You looked up at him with hopeful eyes. “We won’t be able to get the car out tonight,” he started and your stomach immediately sank. “But this guy I brought said we can stay the night with him and his wife.” You perked up at the thought of a warm bed and perhaps a hot shower. “Really?” you asked and Hyunjin nodded. “You got any boots in that bag of yours?”

You nodded quickly. “I got boots and some clothes.”

Hyunjin closed the door so you could change, pulling on a pair of pants and socks, slipping on the boots you thankfully brought along before stuffing your shoes into your bag. Once you were dressed, you tried to open your door but found it was stuck. You leaned over the center console and knocked on the window.

Hyunjin turned, opening the door and peering in at you. “I can’t open my door. Something’s blocking it.” Hyunjin cursed under his breath. “Probably the snow,” he murmured. “Give me your bag,” he said, holding out a hand. You handed it to him and he set it on top of the car before leaning back in. “Hand me my duffle bag,” he instructed. 

You grabbed it from behind his seat and pulled it to the front. Hyunjin opened it, pulling out his gym gear he wouldn’t need and tossed it into the back before taking one of the blankets, folding it and stuffing it into the bag. He then set the bag with yours and leaned down one last time.

“Come on,” he said, holding his hand out. “You’re gonna have to climb out this way.”

You threw the other blanket into the backseat and started to climb, cursing under your breath as you struggled. You took his hand as you climbed into the driver’s seat and scrambled out into the snow, Hyunjin steadying you with his hands.

You murmured a thank you and looked up. “Don’t mention it,” he replied before grabbing yours and his bags. You noticed an older man standing on the road. He took the bags from Hyunjin so the two of you could focus on climbing up the embankment, Hyunjin helping pull you up onto the road.

“This is Lawrence,” Hyunjin introduced the older man standing there with a snow shovel in one hand and both of your bags in the other. “Hello,” you said breathlessly, your breath coming out in puffs. Lawrence nodded in response.

Once on level ground, you took your bag and followed them as they headed back down the road. Hyunjin made sure to lock the doors and looked sadly at his car before jogging to catch up with you and Lawrence. “My poor car,” he mumbled. You looked up at him, the cold stinging your skin and biting at the tip of your nose. “It could have been worse,” you commented.

The walk back to the house wasn’t long and soon you were walking up the steps to the porch. Lawrence let you two in first, making sure you kicked any snow off your shoes before stepping inside with him bringing up the rear. Hyunjin started to remove his coat and you followed as Lawrence hung up the shovel and also started to shed his winter gear.

An older woman came around the corner dressed in floral, khaki, and pink. She reminded you of a sweet grandmother who baked pies and knitted her grandchildren hats and scarves. “This is my wife, Edith,” Lawrence explained. You nodded at her politely. “This is Y/N,” Hyunjin introduced you and you smiled at the woman, Edith. “You look frozen,” she commented. “Come in and warm up.”

You followed Edith, leaving your cold weather gear behind as you walked into the living area.

The room was a modest size, the living room separated from the kitchen by a large kitchen island. Along the back wall was a large fireplace with a fire already going. The kitchen was a galley style, taking up the side wall of the house, a door leading to the back of the house at the other end.

“Come, come in,” Edith said, guiding you over to sit in front of the fireplace. You glanced up at Hyunjin who nodded and followed you. “Are you hungry?” Edith asked as you took a seat on the couch nearest the fireplace, letting your bag fall to your feet. Hyunjin took a seat beside and looked up at your hosts.

“I could eat,” he answered. “Y/N?” he asked. You looked up at the mention of your name. “You hungry?” Hyunjin asked. You shook your head. “Actually,” you said, looking past him at the couple. “I could really use a shower.” Edith smiled and nodded. “You get some food heated up for our guest,” she said, patting her husband’s arm.

“I’ll show you to the upstairs bathroom,” she added, turning to you. You grabbed your bag and got up, following her through the house and towards the front door. She guided you up a set of stairs, into a hallway where there were three doors. 

“This is the bathroom,” Edith said, opening a door and turning on the light. “This room next door is the office and the extra bedroom is that room there,” she continued, pointing out the different doors. “Are you sure you aren’t hungry, dear?” Edith asked as you moved to enter the bathroom.

“I’m sure,” you replied. “I ate at the party we were at earlier. I think I just need a shower and some sleep.” Edith hummed and moved into the bathroom, where she opened a small door to show you the contents. “The towels are in here,” she said softly before shutting the door.

“Just make sure to clean up any water,” she said with a smile and moved to the door. “If you change your mind after your shower, just let me know and I’ll whip something up for you.” You smiled as she exited, thanking her once again before closing the door.

You turned to the shower and pulled back the curtain, turning on the water and letting it heat up. Stepping under the stream, you sighed, letting the hot water run down your body before scrubbing away the events of the night. Once you felt you were sufficiently clean, you turned the water off and got out of the shower, grabbing a towel and starting to dry yourself off.

You chose to change into your pajamas you’d packed before stepping out of the bathroom and making your way to the bedroom. Upon opening the door, your eyes landed on the bed and sighed. ‘I can’t wait to get some sleep,’ you thought to yourself as you stepped into the room, setting your bag in a cream colored armchair near the door. In the middle of the room against the wall was a queen sized bed, cream colored linens covered the bed.

You moved over to the mattress and sat on the edge, letting out an exhausted sigh. As you were about to start getting under the covers, you heard the doorknob turn and looked up in time to see the door open and Hyunjin appear. ‘Oh no. no way.’

Hyunjin sighed, entering the door and shutting it behind him. “One bed,” he murmured, reaching up to scratch the back of his head. Judging by the damp locks, you assumed he’d just taken a shower as well. “Yep,” you said, looking down at the mattress. Hyunjin shook his head before letting out a huff.

“I’ll sleep on the floor,” he said suddenly.

You looked up at him in shock as he moved to drop his bag in the opposite corner of yours. “Hand me those extra pillows,” he continued. You started handing them to him, watching as he made himself a small, measly bed on the floor with pillows and moved to grab the blanket he’d brought from his car.

“Goodnight,” Hyunjin said as he laid down, covering himself with the blanket. You hesitated, staring down at him before finally turning off the lamp and throwing the room in darkness. The only light source coming from the flood light reflecting off the snow outside.

You turned over, your back to Hyunjin on the floor, and tried to fall asleep but you kept opening your eyes. Minutes felt like they were ticking by, the only sound being the house creaking occasionally and Hyunjin’s steady breathing.

You finally couldn’t take it anymore. You sat up, reaching over to turn on the light. “Get up,” you said.

Hyunjin sighed and lifted his head to look at you. “What?” he asked, sounding slightly annoyed.

“I said get up,” you replied. Hyunjin grumbled as he sat up, pushing himself up to his feet. 

“What?” he asked, turning to face you. “Am I breathing too loud? Do you want me to leave?”

You hit the bed beside you. “The floor can’t be comfortable. Just get in the bed.”

Hyunjin froze, staring at you with a mixture of shock and confusion.

“What?” he whispered. You looked up at him. “Just get in the bed.”

Hyunjin shook his head. “No,” he replied. “I said I’d sleep on the floor. It’s f-”

“It’s not fine and I won’t ask you again, Hyun,” you cut him off, his heart skipping a beat at the nickname he hadn’t heard in years. “Just get in the bed, please.”

He hesitated for a moment more before bending over to grab the pillows and blanket, moving around to the other side of the bed and sitting down. He replaced the pillows and pulled the blankets back, settling under them before throwing the extra blanket on top.

“And you’re sure about this?” he asked softly as you laid back down.

“Yes!” you replied, turning your head to look at him. “I’m sure.”

Hyunjin nodded, saying nothing as he turned onto his side. “Thanks,” he muttered. You reached for the light, your heart pounding at being this close in such an intimate setting after two years. “Don’t mention it,” you replied, turning off the light and throwing the room back into darkness once more.

——————————————————————————————————————————

You awoke the next morning to find the room was bright from the light reflecting off the snow and in through the windows. Blinking the sleep away, you started to sit up when you were aware of a weight across your midsection. You glanced down, lifting the blanket to find Hyunjin’s arm wrapped around you, his chest pressed into your back.

Your stomach leapt as you tried to remain calm. You carefully removed his arm and sat up, making sure to try and not disturb him. Getting up, you walked over to one of the windows and looked out to find a thick blanket of snow had fallen during the night, covering everything in white.

You briefly wondered if the car was covered as well before you heard Hyunjin groan, starting to rouse.

You quickly moved to grab your toiletry bag and headed out of the room, down the hall into the bathroom to brush your teeth and wash the remnants of sleep away.

Once you were done, you returned to the room where Hyunjin was sitting up, phone in his hands as he scrolled through his notifications. He looked up as you entered and you internally chuckled at his mess of black hair. He’d always woken up with the messiest hair.

“Morning,” he grumbled, returning his gaze to his phone.

“Morning,” you replied as you put your toiletry bag away and searched through it for something to wear.

You heard the mattress creak as Hyunjin got up and heard his feet shuffle over to the corner where his bag was. You kept your eyes down as he made his way past you and into the hall, letting the door shut behind him. You let out a breath of relief before launching into hyper speed, stripping your pajamas off and redressing.

You zipped your bag, remembering how he used to see your open bag as an invitation to root around. ‘Surely he wouldn’t…’ you thought but decided not to take the chance. You opened the bedroom door and headed out and down the stairs where the smell of coffee and food greeted you.

Walking into the kitchen, you found your hosts already up and dressed. Lawrence had donned a dark blue sweater with a white collar peeking out from the neck and a pair of thick boot cut jeans. He was sitting at the dining table, a plate of breakfast in front of him and a mug of coffee in his hand as he read the paper.

Edith turned to look at you, offering a warm smile as she cooked at the kitchen island. She’d put on a pair of khaki slacks with a white and pink heart polka dot print top, a red cardigan draped around her slender frame. 

“Morning!” she chirped and you couldn’t help but smile as you entered the kitchen. “You hungry?” she asked, to which you nodded. “Starving, actually,” you replied as the stairs creaked. “There’s coffee,” Edith said as she stirred the contents of the skillet. “Help yourself. Creamer is in the fridge and sugar is on the counter.” You moved towards the coffee pot, noticing two mugs sitting on the counter for you and Hyunjin to use.

You grabbed the red one with the words “world’s best grandma” on them. You busied yourself with fixing a cup of coffee as Hyunjin entered the kitchen, greeting Edith when she spoke. “Coffee’s over there. I’ll have your food ready soon,” Edith said as she flipped the eggs over, cutting them with the tip of the spatula.

Hyunjin moved to stand next to you, reaching for the mug but you stopped him, handing him the mug in your hands. “Cream and extra sugar, right?” you asked, making him look up from the mug at you. He nodded, taking the mug with a murmured thanks. You smiled to yourself, content with the knowledge that he was going to be drinking from a mug that said “World’s Best Grandma” as you made your own cup of coffee.

Once you’d taken a seat, Edith plated the food in the skillet and brought them over, setting both down in front of you. “I wasn’t sure what you liked,” she started. “So there’s a bit of everything.”

You smiled at her, thanking her before turning your attention back to the plate. There was an assortment of breakfast food from eggs to sausage to bacon. There was even a biscuit, already buttered and sitting open on the plate. You dug in, relishing the flavors and having a hot meal in your stomach.

“Over a foot of snow fell last night,” Lawrence said, drawing your attention as you glanced up at him. “It’s still snow,” he continued, folding the newspaper and looking up at you and Hyunjin. “There’s more on the way, according to the weather forecast. A blizzard is supposed to blow through the area.”

You swallowed thickly at this news, glancing quickly at Hyunjin to your right. His eyes were on Lawrence, looking as if he was trying to process what to say next only Lawrence beat him to it.

“Edith and I think it would be best if you two stayed another night. Just until the blizzard blows through. I’ve already called a neighbor who has agreed to help tow your car out of the ditch after the blizzard. He’s gone to uncover and dig out the car so when the blizzard arrives, we’ll have less to dig out afterwards.”

Hyunjin nodded, you could see relief wash over him. “Thank you so much,” Hyunjin finally said. Lawrence nodded, giving him a smile. “That does mean, of course,” Lawrence continued. “That we’ll need your help to prepare for the blizzard.”

You nodded, thankful they were allowing you to stay another night. “Just tell us what we need to do,” you said with a firm nod. “We’re happy to help since you’re letting us stay.” Edith interrupted with her soft voice. “Finish your breakfast first and then we’ll go over what needs to be done.”

After eating and downing another cup of coffee, Lawrence and Edith explained everything that needed to be done before the blizzard arrived. They needed more firewood chopped and brought in from the cellar. Edith needed to restock the pantry and fridge and Lawrence wanted to get up on the roof and knock down most of the snow that was up there to keep the roof from potentially buckling under the weight.

Hyunjin offered to climb the ladder so Lawrence didn’t have to. Edith voluntold you that you’d stay inside with her and help with the household chores while Lawrence and Hyunjin handled all the outdoor and heavy lifting.

After divvying up the tasks, Hyunjin and Lawrence pulled on their snow gear and headed out into the frigid white wasteland while you and Edith started cleaning up the kitchen and getting a load of laundry going. You made sure to follow her instructions carefully before setting the timer on the washer and joined her back in the kitchen.

“I’ve asked Larry to send Hyunjin up with some stuff from the cellar. It might take him a few trips,” she explained as she opened the pantry door and you peered in. You noticed that it was modestly stocked, the shelves not as full as they could have been. “We buy in bulk,” Edith continued. “And keep the majority of it down in the cellar. We’re able to buy enough groceries to keep us going for a few months.”

You said nothing as you watched her, jumping slightly when you heard a knock at the back door.

Edith walked over and opened it. Hyunjin was carrying a massive box. “Where do you want it?” he asked, his voice strained. “Set it on this,” Edith said, pulling out a small rug and setting it on the floor. Hyunjin did so and Edith thanked him. “We can just slide this over,” she added. Hyunjin nodded and turned to leave but not before stopping to look at you, catching your gaze.

You turned away wordlessly and helped Edith push the box across the wood floors to the kitchen. 

Inside the box was an assortment of refrigerated and frozen goods. You sat on a stool, pulling contents from the box to hand to Edith while she arranged them neatly in the fridge. Once you were finished, she took the box and walked over to the door just as a figure appeared behind the glass.

Hyunjin had returned with more food from the cellar. “He said this should be everything for the pantry,” Hyunjin said as he looked into the box and then up at Edith. You got up and hurried over, taking the box so the older woman wouldn’t have to. “Oh, thank you Y/N,” she said with a smile. You nodded as you shifted the box in your arms. “You got it?” Hyunjin asked softly and you looked up at him.

Your eyes met and you felt a warmth spread throughout you, something you hadn’t felt while looking at him in a long time. There was a look on his face. Part of it was concern, but the rest of it was nothing but compassion. “I can carry it if it’s too heavy,” he added.

You shook your head. “It’s okay,” you replied. “I got it, Hyun.”

He nodded, glancing at Edith as she watched the exchange with something akin to adoration in her eyes. “Okay,” he replied. “Well, I’ll just go help Lawrence chop wood or something,” he murmured, cheeks turning a shade of pink. Whether it was from your exchange or the cold you couldn’t tell.

Hyunjin left, allowing Edith to close the door and lead you over to the kitchen where you set the box on the floor and moved the stool so you could start to pull cans out of the box and set them on the counter while Edith took note of everything, checking it off her list. Once you emptied the box, Edith took it back over to the door, setting it to the side.

You said nothing as she started grabbing the cans from the counter and putting them in the pantry, arranging them on the shelves the way she liked them. While she worked, you continued to pull cans out of the box, your mind wandering.

Ever since you’d run into Hyunjin again, something has been different. The usual tension you felt in his presence seemed to be missing. It was like after two years apart, you were strangers again. Strangers who had grown apart but also grown up and changed, possibly for the better?

You couldn’t be sure but something was definitely different about Hyunjin, that much you were sure of.

“So,” Edith’s voice brought you from your thoughts. You turned to look at her. “How long have you two kids been together?” You stared at her in stunned silence. ’What?’ You shook your head slowly.

“We’re not together,” you answered. Edith gave you a surprised wide-eyed look. “Oh, I’m sorry dear,” she replied. “I thought you were together. My mistake for assuming.” You stared at her as she turned away, putting the items from the cellar into the cabinets. “We used to be,” you finally admitted.

Edith turned to look at you. “Hyunjin and I used to be together.”

She offered a kind smile. “I thought there was something there,” she said softly, moving to grab more cans. “What ended it?” You glanced up, watching as she neatly stacked the cans in the cabinet. “We weren’t exactly good for each other,” you admitted. “We fought a lot.”

Edith nodded wordlessly before turning one last time to look at you as she gathered the last of the cans.

“Fights happen, dear,” she replied. “It’s normal to fight from time to time.”

You shook your head, playing with your fingers as you avoided her gaze.

“It wasn’t just every once in a while,” you explained. “It was almost every other day until it became everyday. We were both insecure, accusing the other of cheating. I would demand to know where he was every minute and he retaliated by demanding to go through my phone. We had a lot of issues and our break up was inevitable and honestly, we’re better off.”

Edith pursed her lips as she finished gathering the cans, turning to the pantry to finish stocking it.

“Sometimes insecurities can drive a wedge between one another,” she started. “But there had to be a reason you stayed together,” she added, turning back around as she closed the pantry door. Your cheeks burned. “I’m not sure why we stayed together so long,” you admitted.

It was the truth. You couldn’t recall why you and Hyunjin stayed together for so long. Without the fights, you couldn’t recall many positive memories. You were both young, working and finishing college. You shared an apartment for convenience and for costs as well but you hardly spent time there.

You were mostly at school, work, or the library studying. The apartment was for food and sleeping. You only ever saw Hyunjin in passing or on the rare occasion you both had time off from work. At first, those sparse moments of time together were spent enjoying some time to relax from your exhaustive lifestyles. You weren’t exactly sure when things got bad just that one day, the fights started and didn’t stop.

The makeup sex was always fantastic but the moments of peace didn’t last long and soon you were at each other’s throats again. It was a vicious cycle that continued until you inevitably ended things.

[flashback - two years ago]

The apartment was cold and empty when you returned from work. ‘Hyunjin must not be home,’ you told yourself as you slipped your shoes off and set your bag on the kitchen counter. You moved towards the bedroom, entering and starting to strip as you felt like you were pulling off the weight of the day.

It had been a rough few days at work and it was starting to wear you down. Not to mention you had been doing the bulk of the housework as your boyfriend was never home anymore, always working or not being around you. It didn’t bother you like it used to. You were used to this by now.

Once you were in some clean clothes, you headed back to the kitchen to make yourself something to eat, noticing the dirty pot Hyunjin no doubt used to make ramyeon earlier. You weren’t sure why but seeing that small piece of cookware just sitting on the counter made your blood boil.

‘So he can cook and eat here but he can’t clean up after himself?’

You scoffed as you moved to the sink, picking up the pot and starting to wash it, scrubbing it with a sponge. You finished rinsing it and set it to dry as the front door opened, Hyunjin entered with a heavy sigh as he shut the door and kicked his shoes off by the door.

He started to pass the kitchen and caught sight of you standing by the sink.

“Oh, you’re home,” he said and you could detect a bite of animosity to his tone. How dare he.

You whipped around, anger taking over your form as you unloaded on him.

“Of course I’m here,” you snapped. “Where else would I be?”

Hyunjin’s brows rose for a moment before a frown appeared on his face. “I never know where you are anymore,” he snapped back. “Working, Hyunjin! I’m working! That’s all I ever do!” you shouted, throwing your hands up in frustration.

“I go to work, I bust my ass and then I come back here and I still have to work because you can’t seem to clean up after yourself!”

Hyunjin narrowed his eyes. “What are you talking about?” he asked as he let his own bag fall to the ground with a thump. “I’m hardly ever here. What is there to clean up?”

“Dishes! You make yourself food and then leave the dishes sitting on the counter and I have to clean them up otherwise they will pile up!” you shouted. Hyunjin rolled his eyes, setting you off further. “I was going to clean that up,” he started. “I was just in a rush to get out of the house for a meeting. I work, too, you know.”

You could feel your blood boiling. “Oh, is that what you call it?” you asked sarcastically. “Meeting with your boss’ secretary again?” you snapped. Hyunjin groaned, rolling his eyes again. “She’s my coworker! How many times do I have to tell you, there’s nothing going on there!”

You ignored him, moving to the fridge, yanking the door open to hide him from your line of sight. You stared into the fridge at the contents, trying to figure out what to make yourself for dinner. Silence fell over the two of you before Hyunjin spoke.

“So, what’s for dinner?”

You slammed the door shut, rounding on him. “Nothing!” you spat. “You can make yourself something. I’m going to bed.”

You stormed past him, not noticing the way he turned to look at you in shock.

“But you haven’t eaten!” he called as you reached the bedroom and slammed the door shut.

Hyunjin sighed and turned back to the kitchen, moving to open the door and inspect the fridge contents. He grabbed several of the items and moved to the stove, grabbing the now clean pot. He’d just make something simple and split it with you.

You laid on your side, knees curled up as silent tears flowed. You couldn’t keep doing this. It wasn’t working. You’d done nothing but fight with Hyunjin for as long as you could remember. You couldn’t remember the last time the two of you had a civil conversation.

As you laid there, a soft knock sounded on the wood of the door. You quickly wiped your eyes but remained silent. You heard the click of the latch as Hyunjin turned the knob and pushed the door open with a quiet creak.

“Y/N?” he called in a whisper. You ignored him, keeping your back turned. “I made some food. I brought yours.” You heard him enter the room fully now and move to your side of the bed. There was a gentle thud as he set presumably a bowl on the bedside table before a light clicked on.

You felt the bed dip as he sat on the edge of the mattress behind you.

“Babe,” he said softly, placing his hand gently on your arm. “You sleeping?”

You shook your head wordlessly. You felt his thumb trace soft circles against your sleeve.

“Baby,” he started, leaning over slightly. “You need to eat something.”

“M’not hungry,” you croaked. Your voice sounded awful from the silent sobbing you’d been doing since you slammed the door earlier. Hyunjin tugged you onto your back, looking down at you with concern. “Are you sick?” he asked, moving his hand to feel your forehead. You pushed his hand away.

“No,” you replied and tried to turn back over but he stopped you.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, preventing you from rolling away from him. 

“Talk to me.”

You let out a weak laugh. “Talk. Yeah, we haven’t talked in ages, Hyun.” His brow furrowed. “What do you mean?” he asked, moving his hand to cup your cheek. You pushed his hand away again. “We don’t talk, Hyunjin,” you replied. “We fight. That’s all we ever do when we’re together. I can’t remember the last time we had an actual conversation that didn’t result in one of us coming in here and slamming the door.”

A look of hurt flashed over Hyunjin’s face. “It’s just a rough spot,” he murmured. “We’re both swamped with work. It’ll work itself out,” he continued. You shook your head. “No it won’t,” you replied. Hyunjin watched as you sat up before moving to take your face in his hands. “Let’s just forget it. I’m sorry,” he said softly, thumbs caressing your cheeks. “I shouldn’t have left my mess for you to clean up. I should have managed my time better.”

Your eyes fluttered shut as he leaned in, pressing a tender kiss against your lips. Normally, you would have melted into his kisses but you were too numb now, having spent the last hour in a dark room making up your mind to do what you’d been dreading to do.

But knowing it was what you needed to do.

Hyunjin pulled back to look at you. “Y/N?” he asked softly. You took a deep breath and looked up to meet his curious gaze. “Hyunjin,” you started, your heart hammering in your chest, stomach churning at what you were about to say.

“We need to break up.”

[end flashback - the present]

You blinked as the memory leading up to your break up with Hyunjin dissipated into the background as you returned to the reality in front of you. Edith was looking at you with the expression you imagined a wise old sage would give before giving some kind of ancient wisdom.

“I don’t know,” she said softly. “The way he looks at you says another story.”

Your eyes widened slightly. ‘The way he looks at me?’ you wondered. ‘What does she mean by that?’

“I don’t know what you mean,” you replied, shaking your head. Edith chuckled softly. “It just means that maybe there’s still something there, on his end.” You fell silent, thinking back to your recent interactions with Hyunjin but not finding anything that would even remotely paint the picture Edith was imagining.

That was it, she had to be imagining. Projecting hers and Lawrence’s happiness onto you and Hyunjin. There was no other explanation.

You forced a smile. “I highly doubt that,” you replied quietly, still grateful all the same. Edith sighed and shook her head. “You never know if you don’t ask,” she started. “But what do I know? I’m just an outsider, dear,” she added, moving to pat your hand before she moved to start dinner.

“Be a dear, and give me a hand,” she half asked. You nodded, standing up and moving to her side. 

“How can I help?”

“How much more wood do we need?” Hyunjin asked as he loaded another armful of firewood in his arms. “Just a few more bundles,” Lawrence answered as he started to grab pieces as well. They’d spent part of the afternoon salting the pathway from the doors to the cellar to make sure they could get down there if needed. Hyunjin had cleared the snow away with a shovel for Lawrence to follow.

They’d then spent some time chopping wood for the fireplaces just in case the power went out. Hyunjin learned a lot from Lawrence including how he and Edith met, how long they’d been married, and how long they’d lived in this house.

“Take those to the back door and come back to get one more bundle,” Lawrence instructed as Hyunjin headed towards the steps leading out of the cellar. He nodded and climbed the steps, following the shoveled path to deposit the wood by the back door.

He stopped as he stood up straight, catching a glimpse of you through the glass as you helped Edith in the kitchen, chatting away as you cooked. He watched as you threw your head back, a laugh escaping you. It was a sound he hadn’t heard in years. A sound he’d be lying if he said he didn’t miss it.

He could recall plenty of times you’d both been happy in your relationship but he couldn’t seem to pinpoint the last time you’d been happy together. When you suggested breaking up, he panicked. He threw out promises to do better, to be better. He reiterated how much he loved you.

He didn’t want to lose you but ultimately he did. You offered to leave the apartment but he refused, telling you to stay and he could move in with a friend. It was a last minute situation, crashing on his friend’s couch. He stayed there until he was able to find a place of his own and came back to get his things.

[flashback - two years ago]

Hyunjin looked up at the building, letting out a sigh as he tried to calm his nerves.

He really didn’t want to do this but he had no choice. He didn’t have the money to replace his things and he was sure you were sick of having his shit in the apartment.

He finally willed himself to move, putting one foot in front of the other and entering the building. As he waited for the elevator, he contemplated chickening out and asking you to send him his stuff instead but he knew you’d be angrier than if he just showed up.

The ride up to your floor was shorter than he remembered and soon he was standing in front of your door. He raised his fist to knock but hesitated when he heard laughter coming from behind the door. It was your laughter but there was another voice as well.

His heart sank as it dawned on him that another man might be in the apartment with you. Suddenly chickening out and facing your wrath seemed like an easier option than facing whatever was waiting for him behind the door. Seeing as he’d already made the trip here, he knocked three times, his knuckles feeling sore at the force he put behind it.

There was a moment of silence before he heard the familiar click of the lock turning before the door opened and your face appeared. Each time Hyunjin saw you, it took his breath away. You were still just as beautiful as the day he left, even more so because you looked healthier.

Happier.

“I uh, came to get the rest of my stuff,” he murmured softly. You nodded, taking a step back and pulling the door open for him. Inside the apartment was unrecognizable. What was once your shared space had changed. The furniture was gone, boxes taped shut and labeled stacked neatly against the wall.

The cabinets had been emptied and cleaned. Standing in the kitchen was a man Hyunjin had never seen before. He stared at the man as he cleaned the stove, making sure to scrub the surface well. He turned and met Hyunjin’s gaze. You must have noticed Hyunjin’s reluctance to move because you moved to introduce the man.

“This is my coworker, Minho,” you explained. ‘Coworker?’ Panic spread throughout his body. Had he been correct in assuming you were sleeping around behind his back? Footsteps pulled him from his thoughts and he turned to find yet another man entering the living room, carrying another box.

“That’s everything from the bedroom,” he announced as he carried the box over to the others along the wall and set it down. Hyunjin eyed the second man before glancing at you for confirmation. “And this is Minho’s partner, Jisung,” you added, gesturing to the second man who smiled warmly.

‘Partner? So you hadn’t been sleeping with your coworker?’

“Uh, hi,” Hyunjin answered meekly. When did he become so soft-spoken? Especially around you? The break up had really done a number on him. His confidence had dropped drastically and he’d been a mess. He spent a lot of the first week crying himself to sleep on his friend’s couch. He couldn’t even find it in him to be angry. He just wanted you back.

“Your boxes are over here,” you said, beckoning to follow you and leading him to the corner of the living room opposite the door. “I made sure to keep them separate from mine and I went ahead and labeled them so you’d know what’s in them,” you explained. Hyunjin’s heart skipped a beat. Even now, you were still looking out for him. “You didn’t have to go through the trouble,” Hyunjin said softly.

You shook your head, dismissing his concern with your hand. “I had to label mine anyway, so it wasn’t any trouble. Do you need help carrying them down to your car?” you asked, looking up at him. He almost shook his head but was interrupted by the man in your kitchen, Minho. “Ji’s done bringing the boxes from the kitchen, he can help you carry your stuff down,” he offered, looking at Jisung who smiled and nodded. “Yeah,” Jisung replied, walking over to where the two of you stood.

“Then we can load your stuff up,” Jisung added, turning to look at you. “We still have to set up your room,” he added with a nudge. Hyunjin looked between the two of you, a brow raised. “Her room?” he asked subtly. Jisung nodded. “Y/N’s moving into our spare bedroom and helping with rent!”

You smiled sheepishly at Jisung, turning to catch the look on Hyunjin’s face. He looked confused. “I tried to find an apartment,” you explained. “But nothing was in my price range.”

Hyunjin felt guilty even though he knew it wasn’t his fault. He hadn’t expected you to leave the apartment but then again, he should have guessed it would happen as it was far out of your range alone. “I see,” he said softly. “Let’s get these down to your car,” Jisung said, breaking the awkward tension and picking up a couple boxes.

Hyunjin moved to grab one as Minho finished cleaning the stove. “There,” he said with a smug smile. “There’s no way you aren’t getting back that deposit,” he continued, sending a wink your way. Hyunjin continued walking, following Jisung to the elevator which was thankfully still on the floor.

The ride down was silent as neither wanted to be the one to speak first. Silently, the two carried the boxes out to Hyunjin’s car that was waiting by the curb. “Where d’you want these?” Jisung asked as Hyunjin unlocked the car, balancing the box in his arms against his chest. “Just in the backseat,” Hyunjin replied.

The two silently loaded the car and went back for more.

On the ride up in the elevator, Hyunjin finally spoke. “Make sure she eats,” he said softly, not looking at Jisung. From his periphery, he could tell the man had turned his head to look at him. “Sometimes she gets so engrossed in her work she forgets to eat. And make sure she takes her medicine. She forgets that sometimes, too.” Jisung said nothing, nodding instead wordlessly.

Upon entering the apartment, Hyunjin found you standing alone by the window, looking out over the city.

He walked over silently, grabbing a box as Jisung grabbed the last box and headed out into the hall. Hyunjin stared at you, the realization that this would be the last time he ever saw you dawning on him. He needed to say something. Say anything. He just needed you to look at him one last time.

“Y/N,” he said suddenly. You turned to look at him, tearing your gaze away from the window.

The two of you stood there, unmoving as you stared at one another, silence falling over you.

This was it. Hyunjin needed to say something. To tell you one last time how much he loved you.

His voice faltered and the words slipped from his grasp. You offered him a kind smile.

“Good luck, Hyunjin,” you said softly. “Live a good life.”

Hyunjin hesitated, his words failing him yet again before he uttered a simple “you, too.”

He turned away, forcing himself to head for the door despite his heart telling him to go back. Go back to you and bed for your forgiveness. To beg for a second chance. To pull you into a hug, hold you in his arms one last time. Kiss you and tell you he loved you and always would.

But instead of doing any of that, he went down to his car, throwing the last of the boxes with his shit in them, thanking Jisung, and getting into the driver’s seat. He drove straight to his apartment and sat in the quiet car as he fought the urge to cry. To sob. To scream. To do anything.

Just like that, you were gone from his life and he would never see you again.

[end flashback - the present]

Hyunjin forced himself to turn away from the door and head back down into the cellar. Lawrence had finished collecting a pile of wood and smiled as Hyunjin started to collect more. “Once you’re done, meet me inside and we’ll put the firewood in the holder and I can show you how to light one.”

Hyunjin nodded wordlessly as he gathered wood, listening to the sound of Lawrence retreating. He was trying to make sense of everything. Meeting you again like this two years after your break up. It had to mean something but Hyunjin wasn’t sure what it meant.

Was it pure coincidence? Was the universe giving him a second chance? Did it mean nothing and just that the two of you were sharing the same group of friends? He had too many questions and none of the answers.

Hyunjin climbed the stairs out of the cellar one last time, using his foot to close the door before heading to the backdoor and climbing onto the stoop where he kicked off the snow on his boots. He struggled to open the door and felt relieved when it opened for him, bringing him face to face with you.

You smiled warmly at him. “Saw you struggling out here,” you explained as you stepped back, holding the door open for him to enter. Hyunjin thanked you, making sure to wipe his feet and moving over to where Lawrence was ready to take the wood.

With his hands free, Hyunjin was able to remove his shoes and cold weather gear before walking over to where Lawrence was crouched by the fire. Hyunjin joined him, glancing back over his shoulder at you as you helped Edith in the kitchen.

“She seems like a lovely young lady,” Lawrence said softly, drawing Hyunjin’s focus away from you. He met the older man’s eyes and cleared his throat. “Yeah,” Hyunjin replied. “She is,” he added. “I sense some hesitation?” Lawrence asked, Hyunjin nodding silently.

“She’s my ex-girlfriend,” Hyunjin said softly, a sadness falling over him like the flurries of snow outside. Lawrence was silent for a moment before speaking. “How long ago did it end?” he asked as he grabbed a few logs of firewood and placed them in the hearth.

“Two years,” Hyunjin replied, not daring to look back at you for fear that you were watching them.

“How long were you together?”

“Six years,” Hyunjin answered. He heard Lawrence click his tongue as he grabbed a canister of fuel. “Two years isn’t a long time,” he muttered as he flipped the cap and poured a generous amount of the fuel onto the logs and set it aside. “Not nearly enough time to undo everything that happens in six.”

Hyunjin let out a sigh. “We fought a lot,” he explained. “Too much if I’m honest.” Lawrence nodded as he pulled out a box of matches and handed them to Hyunjin. “Fights happen,” he replied. “Lord knows Edith and I have had our fair share over the course of our relationship. There were times I was sure we wouldn’t last.” Hyunjin looked at him with wide eyes.

“All I’m saying is that it seems like the universe has given you a second chance. You just have to make sure you strike hard and true,” he added, tapping on the box of matches. Hyunjin glanced down at the box and opened it quickly, pulling out a match. He scraped the end against the side of the box, lighting the match easily. 

Lawrence nodded at the hearth and Hyunjin tossed the match into the fuel soaked firewood which caught quickly. Lawrence used a poker to push the logs around to make sure the fire spread evenly before grabbing the cover and placing it in front of the open hearth.

“Let’s see if they need a hand in the kitchen,” Lawrence said with a smile, gesturing towards the kitchen where you and Edith were still cooking away. Hyunjin hesitated, looking at you as you tested a sauce you were making. You let Edith try some and he couldn’t help the smile that started to spread when Edith nodded and smiled, turning back to her project.

Hyunjin walked over behind Lawrence who stopped at the kitchen island. “You two look like you’re having way too much fun,” he stated sternly. “We’re just cooking,” Edith replied as she turned over the food in the skillet. “Y/N here has a talent for it.”

Hyunjin nodded, leaning against the counter. “Yeah, she does,” he said softly. Your eyes lifted to meet his and he could have sworn time stood still. The two of you staring at one another as if nothing else in the world existed. His heart hammered in his chest and just as quickly as it started, you looked away and time started up again, the sounds of cooking returning.

“Well,” Lawrence asked, leaning over to see into the skillet his wife was using. “Need a hand?”

After Edith effectively kicked her husband out of the kitchen, Hyunjin in tow, the two worked to make sure all the windows were locked and shutters shut for the incoming storm. The last thing the couple needed was a broken window from wind.

Once Hyunjin was certain the windows in the spare bedroom were shut tight and locked, he started for the door, stopping to look at your bag lying innocently in the chair in the corner of the room. The urge to look through it crossed his mind but as he moved over, he simply closed it and headed back to the door, turning off the light and heading for the stairs.

Downstairs, Lawrence was helping transfer the prepared food over to the table as you filled water glasses. Lawrence sat in his usual spot with Edith to his left. Hyunjin took a seat across from Lawrence, thanking you as you set a glass of water in front of him. You smiled at him before pouring another glass and setting it down in front of your place.

You turned away and Hyunjin forced himself to look away and not follow your movements.

Once you took your seat, Lawrence said grace and you started to help Edith serve the food. Hyunjin couldn’t help but feel like his life could have been like this had your relationship gone in a different direction. “Thanks,” he murmured as you handed him his plate, loaded with food.

Edith made you sit so she could serve you, which you protested against but eventually gave in, taking your seat and thanking her when your plate was also full. The four of you ate mostly in silence, only answering questions when asked. “Did you get a lot of firewood chopped?” Edith asked her husband.

Lawrence nodded, swallowing his bite. “We did. Hyunjin is a natural at chopping,” he added, giving Hyunjin a smile. “Oh no,” Hyunjin said with a shake of his head. “I was struggling a lot,” he added with a chuckle. “Nonsense,” Lawrence replied. “You did a lot better than most.”

Hyunjin thanked Lawrence for his compliment, returning his focus to his food.

The rest of dinner followed in mostly silence until no one else could anymore. “We’ll do the dishes,” Lawrence announced. “You ladies relax.” Edith lightly hit Lawrence with her napkin. “Sit,” she said in faux sternness. “Could you clean up the leftovers, Y/N?” she asked and you nodded, getting to your feet quickly. Edith cleared the plates as you packed away the leftovers and put them in the fridge before grabbing the rest of the dishes and moving to help her.

Hyunjin stared at you from his seat, watching you with a fond expression as you took the rinsed dishes and loaded them into the dishwasher. Once this task was complete, you returned to the table with two small plates each with a slice of pie. You set one down in front of Lawrence who chuckled. “When did you make this?” he asked his wife. “I didn’t,” she replied.

“Y/N did.”

You smiled as you moved around to set the other plate in front of Hyunjin. “Cherry cobbler pie?” he asked, looking up to meet your gaze. You nodded slowly. “You remember?” you asked him softly and he nodded. “Of course. It was my favorite.”

Your cheeks burned as you turned away.

You knew Hyunjin had always loved the pies you liked to experiment with and bake but you never expected him to remember the Cherry Cobbler Pie. You returned to grab the other two slices, setting one down for Edith before taking your seat and setting your plate down.

Edith joined the table moments later and the four of you dug in. Edith smiled after the first bite. “So it’s a cherry pie?” she asked. You shook your head, your mouth still full. “It’s a mix between a cobbler and a pie,” Hyunjin explained. “She makes the bottom a pie crust but the top is a streusel.”

You looked up at him, eyes wide. He gave you a smile before taking another bite.

“You’ve had this before?” Edith asked with a knowing smile. Hyunjin nodded, swallowing. “I was the first to try it,” he replied. “I was there the day she made it.” You looked down at your slice, a lump forming in your throat. Just how much of these little things did he remember? You were certain he didn’t remember any of it. After the day he left and the way he left the apartment the day he picked up his stuff.

After dessert, you offered to do the rest of the dishes alone to let Edith rest. Hyunjin was quick to join you, getting up and offering a helping hand. You stood in the kitchen, side by side as you rinsed the dishes and handed them to him to put in the dishwasher.

Hyunjin glanced back at the living room where Edith and Lawrence were sitting together on the sofa, the tv playing quietly in the background. He turned back, catching sight of you as you rinsed the dishes silently and handed them to him. It wasn’t awkward or hostile. It was a comfortable silence.

The snow outside had started to pick up more and the sun had completely set by the time dinner was ready. “Are you tired?” Hyunjin asked you suddenly, breaking the silence but only enough for you to hear him. You looked up to meet his gaze. You nodded. “Today was exhausting,” you replied, turning your attention back to the dishes. “I can’t even imagine how tired you are from chopping firewood and hauling it in here,” you continued.

Hyunjin shrugged. “It’s not that bad,” he replied.

You shut off the water as you handed him the last of the dishes and removed the gloves, setting them aside to dry as Hyunjin finished filling the dishwasher and shut it. He turned to look at you. “Do you want to go to bed?” he asked. “It’s okay,” you shook your head. “I can tough it out.”

Hyunjin chuckled at your determination. “You can go to bed,” he said softly. His hand twitched as he resisted the urge to reach up and caress your cheek as he would have done in the past. Before the break up. Before the fights. Back to a time when you were both happy.

“Would you like to watch a movie?” Edith’s voice called and you staved off a yawn. “Sure!” you called back and turned away from Hyunjin, walking over to the living room. You took a seat on the other sofa, Hyunjin occupying the space beside you.

Lawrence started the movie and you tried to focus on it instead of Hyunjin’s body next to yours. A cold chill ran up your spine and Hyunjin quickly grabbed a blanket, pulling it over your laps as he settled back beside you.

About halfway through the movie, your eyes fluttered shut as sleep overtook you.

Hyunjin noticed you were sleeping when you gently slumped over against him. He moved his arm around your shoulders, allowing you to sleep as he kept his eyes on the TV screen but he couldn’t help glancing down, admiring your peaceful expression as you slept.

When the movie ended, Edith and Lawrence chuckled softly at the sight of you fast asleep against Hyunjin. “I’ll take her upstairs,” he said softly, pulling the blanket gently from your laps. “Y/N,” he said softly, giving you a gentle shake until you started to rouse.

“The movie’s over,” Hyunjin said softly. “Come on, let’s get you upstairs.”

Once he finally got you on your feet, Hyunjin guided you to the stairs, calling goodnight to your hosts before he started the arduous task of helping you climb the stairs in your half-asleep state. Once at the top of the stairs, he guided you to the bedroom and shut the door.

He dug out your pajamas from your bag and set them on the bed. “I’ll give you some privacy,” he announced, moving to the door. He went to the bathroom to do his business and when he returned, he was relieved that you managed to change your clothes. He quickly changed his pants when your back was turned, pulling his shirt off as his mind wandered.

“They really love each other,” Hyunjin said as he pulled his sleeping shirt over his head. You glanced up at him from your spot on the bed. “Yeah,” you murmured, looking away as Hyunjin turned, making his way to his side of the bed. “They really do.”

You felt the mattress dip behind you as Hyunjin sat down, pulling the covers over as he laid down. You hesitated. Could you share a bed with him after the thoughts and memories you did earlier? You shook your head, mentally willing the thoughts away and laid down, your back to your ex.

You murmured a goodnight, reaching up and turning the bedside lamp off, plunging the room into darkness. Silence fell over the two of you as you tried to force yourself to fall asleep. 

“Y/N?” Hyunjin’s voice broke the silence, his voice barely above a whisper. “Hmm?” you hummed.

“...do you miss it?” Your eyes popped open and you rolled over onto your back to look back at Hyunjin. “Miss what?” you asked, though you had a sinking suspicion what he was going to say.

“Us.” ‘There it is.’

You hesitated, taking a deep breath before answering him. “Hyunjin,” you started.

“We broke up for a reason.” He fell silent, letting your words sink in before he spoke.

“I know,” he answered. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t miss things.”

“Miss what? The arguments? The constant fighting?”

Hyunjin turned his head to look at you. “Is that all you remember?” he asked softly, looking mildly surprised. You shrugged. “It’s hard to remember anything else,” you admitted. Hyunjin turned onto his side to face you. “You want to know what I remember?” he asked, his voice still just above a whisper.

“What?” you asked, wondering what he could possibly remember from your relationship.

“I remember that old run down truck you used to have and how we used to go ‘camping’ where we’d throw an inflatable mattress in the bed and take blankets and pillows. Then we’d drive out to an old abandoned field and watch the stars.”

Your heart skipped a beat as the memory came to the forefront of your mind.

Your old black beat up pickup truck. The paint was peeling in places and part of the bed was rusted but you refused to get rid of it until the engine eventually quit. The camping had been Hyunjin’s idea. You’d had a bad day at work and managed to score the next two days off and Hyunjin decided to go to the store, making you drive. He grabbed the mattress and some other essentials.

He instructed you where to drive and where to park before getting out and setting up the mattress in the bed and grabbing the pillows and blankets he dragged from your apartment. He then made you get into the back with him. That night, you lay under the blanket of darkness, looking up at the sparkling stars and just existed. No worries, no talking.

It was one of the few times you and Hyunjin hadn’t fought.

“That was also the first night I said I loved you,” Hyunjin added softly, pulling you from your thoughts. You stared at him in silence, too shocked to say anything. “I also remember the time you tried to make french toast,” he continued, a chuckle slipping out. “And you burnt everything to a crisp!”

He was laughing now and you lightly slapped his shoulder. “Lawrence and Edith are sleeping!” you hissed but couldn’t stop the smile that started to spread across your face. You remembered that moment, too. “It tasted awful!” Hyunjin added. You rolled your eyes.

“I told you that you didn’t have to eat it!” you reminded him. “My girlfriend went out of her way to make me breakfast in bed. How could I not eat it?” The mention of the word girlfriend made your heart jump again. You stared at him, the only light being from the flood light outside reflecting off the snow.

Hyunjin pushed himself up onto his elbow to see your face better. “I miss that,” he replied. “Miss what? My cooking mishaps?” you asked with a scoff. Hyunjin chuckled but shook his head, reaching a hand out to cup your cheek. “Calling you my girlfriend,” he replied softly. You stared up at him, heat radiating from his palm against your cheek. “Hyun,” you whisper.

You needed to stop him. ‘This is dangerous territory. You’re sharing a bed in an elderly couple’s home in the middle of a snowstorm.’ “What?” he asked softly, leaning closer, hovering over you now. ‘We shouldn’t,’ part of you wanted to say. ‘We can’t.’ You had to stop him but part of you didn’t want to.

So instead, you said nothing, instead staring up at him silently. Hyunjin’s eyes dipped down to look at your lips once before he leaned in, closing the distance and pressing his lips against yours. You accepted the gesture, arms snaking around his neck and pulling him closer.

You knew this shouldn’t happen but what was one last time?

Hyunjin pulled back, lips just inches from yours. “Y/N,” he murmured, his hand moving to your waist. “Maybe we shouldn’t--”

You cut him off with another kiss, this time pulling him over you. Hyunjin followed your movements, careful not to put his weight on you as he settled between your thighs. “Fuck,” Hyunjin groaned, rolling his hips against yours, eliciting a moan from you.

His lips left a trail of kisses down the side of your neck, stopping to nip at the spot where your shoulder met your neck. Your thighs tightened around his waist, another mewl leaving your lips. You felt his hand push your shirt up, immediately taking one of your nipples into his mouth, tongue circling it as he sucked. “H-Hyunjin,” you whispered. He pulled back, looking at you with wide eyes.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice slightly hoarse. “Nothing,” you breathed, moving a hand up to grip his hair, guiding his head back down to your chest. “Just feels good.” Hyunjin wasted no time, taking your nipple back on his mouth, one of his hands tucked under your back against the mattress while the other trailed down your body, sneaking between your bodies as he fumbled to push your shorts and underwear aside.

You let out another moan as his fingers found your slick entrance, tracing it before spreading your lips and finding your clit. “I forgot how wet you get,” Hyunjin groaned. “I could just slide right in.”

As if to demonstrate his point, he eased one of his fingers into you, almost with a sigh as if it brought him some sort of relief. “Fuck, baby,” he hissed, slowly pumping his finger in and out of you, adding a second slowly and marveling at the way your walls sucked him in.

“Fuck, I’ve missed this,” he murmured, lips leaving your chest to meet yours in a sloppy kiss. You moaned into his lips as his fingers continued to move, scissoring you open. It had been so long since you’d had sex with anyone that you were sure the last time you did was with Hyunjin before your inevitable break up.

But now, it was like no time had passed. Hyunjin still knew your body just like he did before. He knew what you liked and didn’t like as it hadn’t had time to change. It wasn’t like the first time you ever had sex with him. He wasn’t a nervous wreck, murmuring a sorry every five minutes.

He was a practiced lover, having had years to get accustomed to your body and you to his.

You let out a whine as Hyunjin pulled his fingers from your cunt, pressing a tender kiss against your collar before bringing his fingers to his mouth, cleaning them of your arousal. “Hyun,” you started but he cut you off with another kiss, groaning as you tasted yourself on his tongue.

He started to kiss his way down your neck again, down your chest and stomach as he reached the waistband of your shorts. He pulled them down, pulling your panties along with them and discarding them on the floor. He continued to kiss down your exposed skin until his head was between your thighs.

He pressed a quick kiss to your thigh before diving into you, spreading your folds and giving your sex a slow lick, almost groaning at the taste. You felt his lips wrap around your clit and you gasped out a moan, louder than you had intended.

“Shh,” Hyunjin whispered, lifting his head to look at you. “We have to keep it down,” he added. You nodded, murmuring out an apology. Hyunjin’s head dipped down, tongue flattening against your clit once more. Your hands snaked down, fingers curling in his hair as his tongue teased you closer and closer to the edge.

You warned him you were close and regretted it immediately as he pulled back. “Not yet,” he growled as you whined, trying to push his head back down. “Wanna cum together.” You sat up and pushed him down onto the bed, ignoring the squeaking of the frame as you struggled to pull his pants down.

Hyunjin fought the urge to laugh at your impatience as you managed to pull his pants and underwear down just enough to free his cock from its confines. The laughter died before he could even let it out when he felt your fingers wrap around his cock. He shuddered as you spit on the tip, using it to lubricate your movements, stroking him quickly.

“Shit, baby,” Hyunjin hissed. “Slow down.”

You hummed in response but didn’t listen to his request. You added more spit and continued to pump your hand, looking up to meet his heated gaze. Your lips curled into a smirk and he narrowed his eyes. “Don’t you dare,” he hissed, knowing the look in your eye.

“Then fuck me already.”

Hyunjin grabbed your wrist, pulled your hand off him and pushed you onto your back, settling between your thighs as he took his length in his own hand, guiding the tip to your slit. “Only because you asked so nicely,” he murmured as he rubbed against you before pushing into you.

“Oh, shit!” you gasped as he slid into you. You glanced up at him, taking in his messy hair and flushed cheeks. His lips were swollen from your kisses, still glistening from tasting you earlier. You tugged at the base of his shirt, drawing his attention as he bottomed out.

“Off,” you whined. Hyunjin chuckled, grabbing his shirt and pulling it off, tossing it aside before he leaned over, placing his hands on either side of your head on the mattress. His hips pulled back only slightly before giving you a measure thrusts, making sure there wasn’t any restriction or discomfort.

“I’m fine,” you gasped, grabbing his bicep and giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Just move, please.”

Hyunjin took your pleas to heart, snapping his hips and driving his cock into you. You moaned as softly as you could manage. Hyunjin set a firm but steady pace, losing himself in the feeling of your warm walls enveloping him, fluttering as each thrust pushed you towards the edge.

“Slowly,” he reminded himself verbally. “Wanna cum together.”

You whined as he slowed to a roll, the head of his cock brushing against the spongy soft spot inside you. “Oh fuck, Hyunjin!” 

Hyunjin gave you a lopsided grin as he aimed for the same spot. “Right there, yeah?” he asked, his voice dropping an octave.

“Feels good when I fuck you, doesn’t it?” he asked, keeping his eyes on your face as he watched it contort in pleasure. “Only I know how to properly fuck you, isn’t that right?” You nodded, letting out a mewl as he slammed into you, punctuating his words.

“Say it, baby. I need to hear it.”

“Only you can fuck me right, Hyun.”

You heard him groan as his hips stuttered. “Only you,” you added for good measure.

“Shit, that’s right,” Hyunjin whispered, his voice barely audible of the sound of his cock pistoning in and out of you, a thin layer of sweat starting to collect on his skin from exertion. “Remember how you used to beg me for audio of me getting myself off?” he asked suddenly.

You did remember. You had told him early on in your sex life that you loved it when your partners moaned so Hyunjin would send you audio of him moaning as he touched himself. You saved almost all of them but deleted them after the break up.

“Used to love listening to me, didn’t you?”

You nodded, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. Hyunjin let out a moan, slowing his hips to a roll again, making you feel almost every inch of his cock. “God, you’re squeezing me so tight, baby,” he said as his head dropped into the crook of your neck, punctuating his next sentence with thrusts. 

“So,” thrust. “Fucking,” thrust. “Tight,” thrust.

Your walls clenched around him, making him slow in an attempt to prolong his own orgasm. He wanted to indulge in you a little longer because he knew at some point this would end and you would eventually go your own ways but he wasn’t ready for that just yet. He needed to make this last as long as he could.

“Hyunnie,” you whined, hips moving to meet his, desperate for more friction. Hyunjin lifted his head, reaching a hand up to cup your cheek as he took your lips in a passionate kiss. “Faster, please,” you begged against his lips. Hyunjin couldn’t resist when you begged him, your voice breathless as he filled you with his cock over and over.

But he needed to. “Shhh,” he murmured, pressing his forehead against yours, eyes fluttering shut as he rolled his hips again. “Just enjoy it,” he added, pressing a quick kiss to your lips, chuckling when you chased him for more.

“I promise I’ll fuck you real good, sweetheart,” he continued. “Just let me enjoy this.”

You fell silent, looking up at his face, eyes shut as he focused. “Hyun,” you whined, trying to get him to look at you. “Please baby,” you cooed. You knew he normally couldn’t resist the plea in the past, not when you called him baby. His lips twitched as he fought off a smile.

“Not going to work, angel,” he replied softly, slowing his hips entirely and stilling inside you. You whined in protest, trying to move your hips but strong hands held you in place. “If you don’t stop that, I won’t let you cum at all,” Hyunjin warned. Your brows rose as you contemplated fighting him.

Finally, you huffed and admitted defeat. “Fine.”

Hyunjin leaned in, pressing his lips to your forehead. “Good girl,” he murmured, not missing the way you clenched around him. “Such a good girl for me,” he continued, taking full advantage of your weakness. “Doing so good and taking me so well.”

You whined again. “Hyunjin!” you whimpered. He leaned in, pressing his lips to yours again, one hand finding one of yours and lacing his fingers with yours. He pinned your hand against the pillows, lifting his hips and uttered a single warning in your ear.

“Don’t scream,” he whispered.

You didn’t have the chance to ask what he was talking about when the first thrust knocked the air out of your lungs. He’d held back earlier and you knew he did but now he wasn’t going to. Your moans turned into cries, rising in volume and pitch. Hyunjin hissed, moving his free hand to cover your mouth as he pounded into you.

“I told you not to scream,” he muttered as he muffled your screams, his hips slamming against yours. “Fuck,” Hyunjin groaned. “M’gonna cum. You close, baby?” You nodded, moaning loudly against his hand. “That’s it, baby,” Hyunjin said breathlessly. “Let go and cum for me.”

Your walls contracted around his cock, your toes curling as stars exploded in your vision, a searing white hot feeling spread throughout your body from your fingertips to your toes. At the same moment, you felt Hyunjin’s cock twitch inside you, signifying his own orgasm. His teeth sank into your shoulder as he came with a groan, spilling his hot load into you as his hips continued to move, fucking it further into you.

“Oh shit,” he gasped as he fucked the last of his release into you before his hips finally stilled and he let out a heavy sigh. You pushed his hand off your mouth, breaths coming out in pants as you tried to come down from your high. You felt Hyunjin pull out of you carefully, his seed starting to spill out onto the sheets.

“Ah, shit,” he cursed, rolling out of bed and hurrying to pull his pants back on. He disappeared and returned a moment later with a towel and started to wipe your thighs and clean the cum off the bed sheets. “I think I was quick enough,” he murmured.

Once he was certain he’d gotten it all, he helped you back into your panties and shorts, pulling the blankets back over the two of you as you settled against the mattress, him beside you. “Y/N?” you heard him ask softly and opened your eyes, rolling back to look at him. “Hmm?” you replied.

Hyunjin turned his head to look at you. “Can I hold you?”

Your heart skipped a beat and you nodded, turning back over as Hyunjin scooted into position behind you, one arm snaking under your head beneath the pillow and the other going around your waist. You felt his chest press against your back and felt a warmth envelop you.

The two of you were silent for a moment before Hyunjin spoke. “I miss you,” he muttered into your hair, almost too quiet for you to hear but you did hear it. “Hyunjin,” you started but he tightened his arm around your waist. “Please, let me finish,” he begged. You fell silent and nodded.

“I miss you so much, Y/N. Ever since that last day in the apartment. The day I came to get my stuff. I had the opportunity to tell you how much I loved you. And I messed up,” he fell silent and you waited, hearing him swallow the lump in his throat.

“I messed up so bad, baby. I know that. Leaving you was the hardest thing I’ve done. I loved you so much that not being with you nearly killed me. I stopped leaving my apartment, I stopped going to work, I stopped eating. The only thing that numbed the pain was drinking and it only worked for so long.”

Your breath caught as you listened to Hyunjin. “Please believe when I say that I’m not blaming you. Everything that happened to me was my own fault. I guess I just didn’t want to live without you. When I lost my job and then my apartment and was back on my friend’s couch, it finally hit me that I couldn’t wallow in my misery. I had to go on. You had told me to live a good life and I wasn’t doing that. So I sought help,” he continued.

“I got clean, found a better job, moved into my own place, and started living that life you told me to live. Because you told me to live a good life, I got to meet you again.” You blinked away tears as Hyunjin spoke, not wanting to give into the emotions you’d been trying to suppress.

“The universe brought us together again and I feel like it was for a reason,” he continued to speak softly. “I believe in second chances. I know you do, too. I want us to try again. We’re not the same people we were eight years ago,” he hesitated and you took this as a moment for you to speak.

“I don’t know what to say, Hyunjin,” you whispered. “This is a lot of information to throw at me at once.”

Hyunjin nodded, pressing a kiss to the back of your head. “I know,” he murmured. “But I loved you, Y/N. I still love you. I regret everyday I didn’t spend reminding you of that.” You took a deep breath and turned over to look up at him. “Can we talk about this another time?” you asked, blinking away the burning in the corners of your eyes. Hyunjin moved his hand to cup your cheek and nodded.

“Of course,” he replied. “Whatever you want.” Your eyes fluttered shut as he leaned in to press a kiss to your lips. He pulled back and you turned back to face forward as he wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you snug against him.

You closed your eyes and sighed, hoping sleep would come sooner rather than later.

The next morning Hyunjin awoke to find light filtering into the bedroom. He groggily opened his eyes and looked around the room. Your side of the bed was empty and he sat up, checking the time on his watch. He dressed in silence. He headed down the stairs, looking for any sign of life.

Upon entering the kitchen he found Edith sitting at the table with a mug of coffee. She looked up and smiled as Hyunjin looked around. “There’s breakfast in the microwave for you,” she said, getting up and walking over to open the door on the appliance, pulling out a plate and guiding him to sit at the table.

Hyunjin’s heart started to pound as he looked around but saw no sight of you anywhere. “Where’s Y/N?” he asked, looking up at Edith who patted him on the back, gesturing for him to eat. “She caught a cab early this morning,” Edith said softly. “Said she had important business to attend to.”

Hyunjin’s stomach sank. ‘You left? After last night? After everything? You just…left?’ He looked down at the plate, the corners of his eyes burning, Blinking the urge to cry away he composed himself and looked up. “Where’s Lawrence?” he asked suddenly. “Oh, he went to dig your car out of the snow! A neighbor came to help him pull the car out of the ditch but they needed to dig it out first.”

Hyunjin nodded wordlessly and ate in silence while Edith read something on her tablet.

Once he was finished, Edith took his plate and started rinsing it off. As she was putting it in the dishwasher, the front door opened and moments later, Lawrence appeared, dressed in a thick winter coat, coveralls, and boots.

He had a black wool hat jammed onto his head and smiled at Hyunjin as he pulled his mask down.

“Good news!” he said excitedly. Hyunjin perked up immediately, the irrational side of his brain hoping you had returned. Instead he was greeted with news that his car was now dug out and waiting in the driveway for him. Hyunjin forced a smile, thanking Lawrence.

“And they’ve been by to clear the roads,” Edith added, turning to Hyunjin with a smile. Hyunjin thanked them both and headed up to gather his things. As he moved around the room, he noticed the towel he’d used the night prior to clean up the mess you’d both made in the bed.

Hyunjin grimaced and decided to pull the sheets and tuck them up in a wad to carry down to put in the wash himself so he didn’t have to explain to Edith what it was staining her nice floral sheets. Once he was certain he had all his things, Hyunjin headed downstairs, dropping his bag by the front door before walking into the living room where Lawrence was warming up by the fire and Edith working on some form of needle work, possibly crochet, Hyunjin wasn’t sure.

She looked up as he walked over. “I wanted to get these in the laundry for you,” Hyunjin explained. “Oh that’s okay, dear,” she said as she set her work aside and got up. “I can do it,” she added, reaching for the bundle. Hyunjin internally cringed and pulled back slightly. “It’s okay. I’ve already got it in my hands. Just point me in the right direction,” he replied.

Edith gave him a knowing smile and pointed to the laundry room off the kitchen. Hyunjin thanked her and moved to open the door, opening the washing machine and dumping the sheets and blankets and towel into the drum. He added some soap and fabric softener before setting the timer and starting the machine.

Back in the living room, he found Edith back in her spot and Lawrence now sitting in his armchair with a newspaper. Hyunjin cleared his throat, catching both their attention and they looked up at him.

“Well,” he started awkwardly. “I think I’ll head out,” he continued. “We’ll walk you out,” Lawrence said, setting his newspaper aside and getting to his feet as Edith set her project aside and got up as well. Hyunjin walked towards the door with the couple following. He pulled on his coat, wrapping his scarf around his neck before tugging his beanie on.

“Walk him to his car,” Edith whispered, lightly hitting her husband’s chest. He moved to get his coat but Hyunjin stopped him. “Really, it’s okay,” Hyunjin reassured them. “You’ve done so much for Y/N and I.” Hyunjin pulled on his shoes and grabbed his bag.

“You’ve gone above and beyond what anyone else would do,” he continued. “Even though Y/N isn’t here to thank you, I’m thanking you for her.”

Edith smiled at him. “She already thanked us,” she explained. “Oh, she left a note!” she added when she noticed the confused expression on Hyunjin’s face and moved into the kitchen before returning with a paper note and handing it to Hyunjin. He read the writing on the sheet which he recognized as yours.

‘So she left a note,’ he told himself, forcing a smile as he handed it back. “That was nice of her,” he said shortly. Edith smiled, producing an envelope. “She also left this and asked me to give it to you,” she added, holding out the envelope. Hyunjin took it curiously and thanked her.

“Drive carefully!” Edith said as Hyunjin opened the door and stepped out onto the porch, his bag slung over his shoulder. “And no more driving into ditches,” Lawrence joked. Hyunjin laughed and nodded. “I’ll do my best. Thank you so much for everything,” Hyunjin said again and with a wave, he carefully made his way down the steps and started the trek back towards the road.

He was halfway down the driveway when his black sedan came into view and he smiled, picking up the pace as he hurried to his car. He unlocked the door and after tugging a couple times, managed to break the ice and pull the door open. He got in, kicking the snow off his shoes and dumping his bag onto the front seat. He shut the door and looked around.

Everything seemed in order. He said a little prayer before turning the engine over and the car surprisingly roared to life, Hyunjin cheering with an excited laugh. He immediately turned the dials and got the defroster and heater working. He pulled his hat off and threw it into the passenger seat. As he shed more layers, he caught sight of the envelope and stared at it for a few moments.

What could you have possibly needed to say that you could haven’t waited to tell him?

Hyunjin fought with himself on whether or not to read it, going back and forth until he finally grabbed the letter with a groan and opened it. At least he’d have something to do while he waited for his car to warm up. He pulled the letter out and unfolded it, eyes scanning the sheet before him.

Hyunjin, I’m sorry for leaving like this. I know it’s wrong and makes it seem like I’m running from my problems and maybe I am but I can’t give you an answer. I know it’s not what you want to hear but I’m just not sure.  I’m not sure of anything anymore. I thought I was okay and that I was over you but seeing you at the party and then getting stranded and having to share a bed and then what happened last night. It feels like things happened so fast and I didn’t have time to catch up. I couldn’t process it all in a few hours.  I need more time.  I need to think about everything you said and what’s going on in my own mind. There’s a lot for both of us to think about although you made it pretty clear where your mind is last night. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t still feel something for you because I do. I do feel something for you and it scares me. I didn’t want to make a decision in the heat of the moment and come to regret it so instead I’m going to take some time to think.  I also want to thank you. For offering to give me a ride home, even if we did get stranded. It wasn’t the worst thing that could have happened. And thank you for opening up to me and being honest with me. I’ve seen a much different side of you. One that reminds me of the man you were when we first met. I don’t want to use up all of Edith’s letter paper so I’ll end with this: Don’t hesitate to reach out and when I’m ready, I’ll contact you. xxx-xxx-xxxx

Hyunjin’s vision blurred and he hastily wiped the tears from his eyes, a small smile gracing his lips.

For the first time since the car slid off the road the other night, he felt something he hadn’t felt in years.

He felt hopeful.

ⓘ Graphics made by me. Content and support banners made using a template by cafekitsune. I do allow reposts, translations, or continuations of my works. All writing and graphics are ©️ kwanisms.

[forthelostones]

𝚙𝚝.𝚎𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 ; 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 ─── ⋆

⟡⋆˙୨ᥫ᭡. 𝚗𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎 𝚊𝚞 - 𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚐𝚎!𝚊𝚋𝚋𝚢 𝚡 𝚏𝚎𝚖!𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛ᥫ᭡.୧⋆˙⟡

synopsis: abby was a woman whose presence was becoming deeply irresistible to you. in your final year of nursing school, you toil with the idea of pursuing her — ruin what you have or enjoy what’s in front of you?

warnings. 18+ (mdni); sub!abby, domsub!abby, sexual themes, jealousy, fluff, nickname: dummy, and modern au - pre-established relation.

an: guys. this has been such a crazy ride, thanks for the support on both of my stories. it means so much to me. sorry for the wait... lets get it.

CLICK HERE.

(no y/n)

Abby watched from the row behind you, observing how you chewed on the end of that neon #2 pencil. She could tell by the bobbing of your leg that you were nervous and stuck on a specific question. It was the same during studying — chew, bob, sigh. Almost on cue, a frustrated sigh left your throat. She knew it was her fault that this was happening.

She knew neither of you studied long enough for you to feel confident on this exam. Well, that’s what she kept trying to convince herself, she was already finishing up the last page. Although her pencil glided on the paper effortlessly, she couldn’t help but be distracted by your indecisiveness on the math equations and multiple-choice questions. The once full eraser had been subsided to pure metal scrapping into the pages.

The time on her watch read ten minutes left until the end of the exam and you were only on page two. Studying had become harder for you with Abby around. It wasn’t only the dating component it was mostly the difference in your skills. Her ability to memorize vocabulary and complete math problems without thinking twice about them made you academically insecure. While you averaged low B’s and high C’s, she had a 4.0 and made it look easy. The clock's ticking distracts you from the problem you are trying to solve. It was one you and Abby worked on multiple times, yet you’re frozen, unsure how to solve it. As everyone flicks their pages to finish, you just … froze. 

“Okay. Pencils down.” Your professor said just moments after you started a new equation. Your jaw dropped slightly and you squeezed your eyes shut. Abby shook her head, not at you specifically, but herself. You had practically moved in and the nights that would typically be spent studying were now used to learn more about each other beyond your friendship. Realistically, Abby understood that those moments would be worth more than a grade in the long run. But a part of her also resented getting this comfortable, ultimately impacting you. The feelings clashed within her. The heat forming inside of you could only be described as embarrassment. Why was it like your brain suddenly lost all power to its systems? It wasn’t unusual for you to skip a few questions but this was completely unlike you. 

You chew on your cuticles and fold the mostly blank pages and pass them down to the front, doing the same for your classmates. Their pages crumbled with computation answers and confidently filled bubbles exposed your shortcomings. You should feel relieved that the test is over but you don’t. A heavy anchor grounded you but you were still floating. Abby met you down in your row where you saw her concealing another A-plus smirk. Once you both exited into the hall Abby’s hand finds the center of your back and she begins to pet it slowly. You shrug her away gently. 

“Don’t.” You sigh. 

Abby knew it would set you off but she did it anyway to show you she sees you. The blonde’s brain was moving at a rapid pace. She so deeply wanted to ask you about the challenging problems and the scenarios on the quiz. Her translucent lashes tapped frantically as she imagined the sheet of paper behind her eyes. 

“I feel good about this one.” She finally says. 

“Good. I really did not do well. It’s — whatever. Right?” 

Abby looks to you and she couldn’t lie and tell you that it’s not just whatever. It’s your future. Both of your futures — together — it was important to Abby that her partner was just as successful as her. 

“You should be happy that you did your best but understand that if you did do as bad as you think, it’s worth asking for a makeup to understand the material.” She suggested. 

You hated when she got like this, rigid. Her posture was straight, her mouth set hard, and no softness found anywhere on her face. The regime her father instilled in her stayed and it was evident in moments like this. 

“Abby, sometimes I really need you to just listen to me and be rational later.” 

A chill followed down her spine following your sharp comment. 

“Maybe we shouldn’t study together anymore.” She muttered.

Part of you wanted that to be a joke but knew it wasn’t. The night before proved itself to be deeply uneventful for the both of you. 

“You’re distracting me.” You groan as you’re reviewing flashcards on Abby’s bed, the first mistake. She was wearing a thin, white tank top and a pair of loose black sweats, untied, on her hips. Her hair was drying from the shower you two just took and so was her body. The outline of her features was accentuated by the water being absorbed by the cotton. She was so casually beautiful and simply yours. The bed shifted behind you, her weight bending the mattress inwards, as she crawled towards you.

“Am I?” She asks, using the tip of her tongue to playfully lick a stripe of slick up towards your lobe. An instant bubble of relief popped inside of you. “Okay. Okay.” 

Abby couldn’t take her eyes away from you. She had seen you in this robe every night now but it was something about how it was gliding with you. As well as your skin's glint from your body oil makes you look regal. You sat at the base of the bed while Abby retreated towards the headboard, leg tucked under her butt. She took off three inches of hair and it looked so fresh, carving out her face perfectly, and highlighting her stiff jawline. “How about we make a deal?” She said brazenly. 

“What?” 

“For each answer I get right you remove something?” 

“Abby,” you chuckle, not denying her advances. 

You thumb the index cards in your hand and turn to tie your eyes with hers. 

“First question, the section is Anatomy and Physio. What best describes endocrine glands?” You ask. 

Abby taps her chin as if she’s searching for the answer. “They secrete chemicals into the blood, growth, metabolism, sexual development and function.” 

She raises her eyebrows and shoots her eyes towards your robe. A deal is a deal so you remove the silk, leaving you in your two-piece pajama set. Abby notices the goosebumps lining the outsides of your shoulders and can’t help but desire to rub them warm. 

“Question number two. Anaerobic respiration can lead to a burning sensation caused by which molecule?” 

“Easy,” she scuffed. “Lactic Acid.”

Her teeth appeared behind her Cheshire grin as your top found its way onto her floor. 

“Good job.” 

Your words made her cunt pulse. 

“The mediastinum is located within which cavity?” You ask. 

Abby’s face fell instantly. The outline of your nipples looked delicious and icy, she needed them in her palms immediately. “Fuck. I don’t know.” 

You lift yourself off the bed and bend right in front of her to retrieve your shirt, Abby’s shadow overcame you and her hips thrust into your ass in one motion. She spins you around to face her, mouths inches away. “Do you think you’re going to actually put that back on?” 

Her index finger traced the outline of your lips with her eyes following. You grip her wrist, halting her movements, “And if I do?” 

Abby gently places the index cards neatly on her bedside table and presses you into the wall behind you. Usually, Abby is submissive but the stalking woman imposed her strength on you, like she’s been wanting to do from the first time she saw you in clinicals. 

“I’ll just rip it off you.” She giggles. 

“Would that be so bad?” You reply, bringing her finger into your mouth, sucking it then adding another. Abby huffed a keen groan as she bent down onto her knees, immediately pressing her mouth into your cunt. She lapped at the fabric separating her from you and didn’t even ask for you to remove them. 

You insisted by beginning to take them off but she tore them off you and hoisting up one leg onto her shoulder following the other one. 

“Abby.” You gasp. 

“I got you, hold onto me.” 

She was flexing her skill by fine-tuning your pussy with her tongue while she slowly hoisted you up towards the ceiling. Not only did you feel as if you were floating, you actually were. She was a show off but you fucking loved it. 

After that, there was no more studying done.

“Do you think we should cut down on the time we're spending together?” You question, as the night replays in your mind. 

Abby’s face scrunched up in immediate disapproval without hesitation at the suggestion. She pulled her bottom lip slightly in her mouth and looked around as if the walls suddenly grew eyes. Abby wanted to tell you no but she knew what had to be done. 

“We can.” She grimaced with a shrug. 

Despite all the time you spent together the girlfriend conversation had yet to come up. She thought about it the most when you were in her presence. She didn’t comprehend how you liked her so much and yet, you refused to make it official. She truly believed that once you ditched Ellie she’d be over the moon, but right now it’s feeling the same and Abby doesn’t do stagnant. 

“Abby, we can still study together, in the library, several feet away from each other.” 

She forced a smile. “Fine. Does this mean you’ll still sleepover?” 

Before your crush on Abby developed you were denying yourself the fact that it was possible. But during this time, before the dating, your grades had been the best when you were alone, and you know for a fact, that it was because of her. You may not be as smart as Abby but you do want to come out on the other end with a degree too. 

“Why don’t we come up with a schedule?” She suggests.  

“That would be perfect.” You said. 

The schedule consisted of dinners at Abby’s during the week, sleepovers on non-clinical days which were Wednesdays and Fridays, and studying every day at the library. Abby liked the organization but her body had gotten so used to you beside her. A week into implementing the new schedule Abby felt an immense amount of anxiety without you around. She didn’t know how to break down the feeling and why it was so persistent. Although you two were next door to each other, text messages still provided a temporary cushion for her sadness, but it wasn’t enough. 

Abby clicked the icon that was the home for your name and called but there was no answer. Dinner was stewing on the stove, and in the middle of mixing a cocktail, Abby called to find out if you could taste what was missing. Another call led to another one and soon Abby was sitting with a candle flickering silently in front of her. Your plate sat untouched and she just picked at the remnants of hers. 

Little did she know you were closed off in your room after studying, panicking. You knew yourself more than you wanted to. The schedule was needed for you to clear your brain on the feelings you had for Abby. With upcoming exams and graduation where would that leave you? She'd move across the world while you were huddled up in your small town's hospital circulation? It was coming in so fast and before you could mix in a girlfriend you had to know what you wanted. The pages of your journal turned soft as you tore your pen through the book. 

A part of you wanted to hear the rapping of her fist against your door, ready to envelop you and reassure you that you would figure it out. She never came and because of that, a piece of you died. Conversations with her have turned short and passive since the last exam. It wasn’t just the exam it was a culmination of multiple things that either of you were ready to talk about. 

Abby put your dinner into a glass container and waited outside your door trying to gain the sense to knock. One of the many nights you spent together gave her a reason to knock instead of sulk in her bed, thinking about all of her shortcomings in the relationship. You were both lying down and Abby lit a candle that night that you bought her. The sweet scent of peaches and cream cut through the bitter smell of her pine products. She loved it. Between the sheets were your naked bodies damp and lazy. Abby had brought a glass of cold ice water and set it on the nightstand beside the candle. You took turns taking sips. 

“Thank you for the water.” You smiled. 

“Don’t mention it,” She nudged you. 

You twist your body onto your stomach and look up to her glimmering, post-sex face. 

“Abby?” 

“Yes, beautiful?” 

“You still make me nervous.” 

She cackles and brings her hand to your cheek and massages away your imperfections. With the roll of her eyes she licks her lips before curating a snarky response. But she quickly realizes you’re being serious. “Why?” 

“I care so much about you and that’s something I haven’t felt before. With anyone.”

A kind pause swells between you both. 

“I care about you too. I don’t want that to make you nervous.” She said. 

“I know you see me differently but I am a little insecure.” 

She leans down and kisses your forehead tenderly without a breath. 

“That’s normal.” 

“But I burrow. I distance myself when I get like that and I don’t want to subject you to that. I don’t want to hurt your feelings again. If I do that, get distant, don’t hesitate to just tell me to get out of my own head. It’s not your fault or your responsibility.” 

Abby’s fist banged on the door with your words echoing in her mind. The thuds startled you out of the sleepy daze you fell under. You shuffle to the door to see the goofy blonde in her pajamas and slippers holding what was supposed to be tonights shared dinner. 

“You didn’t come to dinner,” Her voice was more welcoming than usual. “I was worried. Are you okay?”

Shoving her way past you and nearly tossed the container on the kitchen counter. Without hesitation she opened her arms and you couldn’t help but to run into them. Although she didn’t say anything the affirmation from her presence was enough. 

“All too much in your head again aren’t you?” 

A sob escaped into her chest and she gripped you tighter. These past few days have been a blunder of confusing thoughts. A part of you knew getting together with Abby would make things unclear in your life. But if she was willing to get uncomfortable and support you, you were obligated to do the same to her.

“Abby, I should’ve answered your calls.” You pull away to notice how unswayed she is of your state.

“You should have but that doesn’t matter right now. We need to talk.”

You nod your head shyly and she grips your hand and takes you to your bedroom. Abby pats beside herself to welcome you.

“I’m so scared.” You blurt out.

“Me too,”

Abby was scared for the complete opposite reason. When she was with you it seemed like all the decorative things such as school didn’t matter. She wasn’t familiar with how that felt. To have an identity outside of her accomplishments or care about someone. With you, she could flunk out of nursing school, move back to her home town, and still be satisfied. That scared her — that one person could allow her to have such a paradigm shift.

Hearing Abby say those words made your heart settle.

“I care so much about you. I didn’t think I would, this much. I should’ve known because on orientation when I saw you I thought, ‘I need to know who she is’ and I am grateful for that thought blossoming into my mind.”

You couldn’t muster any other word but her name. She picked up your hands to bring them into her lap. She leaned in to place a soft kiss on your mouth and lingered there with her forehead pressed against yours.

“When you moved next door, I just thought maybe this is the sign I need to do something different. To not let my ambitions lead me but instead my heart. And my heart loves you, Dummy.”

[padfootagain]

Love in Verses (II)

Chapter 2 : ‘Through me the way to the City of Woe’

Hi, everyone!!! Here we go for a second chapter! Drama is upon us, the plot is plotting! Let me also introduce you to Samantha, Andrew’s partner… I’m sure you’re going to love her a lot…

I hope you like this series! Tell me what you think!

****

Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader (professor!AU)

Warnings: slow burn, angst, hurt, hurt/comfort, tooth-rotting fluff in later chapters, some scenes in later chapters will have heavy sexual themes even if it’s not explicit nsfw description, so minors here

Summary: Your life seems perfect. You're engaged, your career is thriving as you become an assistant professor at Trinity College, and this Andrew Hozier-Byrne you're sharing an office with seems to be a nice guy you hope to call a friend soon. Life seems to be smiling at you... until everything goes sour. When your fiancé breaks up with you, your perfect world shatters. And when your colleague also gets his heart broken soon after, your shared office seems to be a curse rather than a blessing. But Andrew seems determined to mend your broken hearts... Will things finally go according to plan?

Word Count: 4510

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s masterlist – Main masterlist

Through me the way to the City of Woe, Through me the way to everlasting pain, Through me the way among the lost. Justice moved my maker on high. Divine power made me, Wisdom supreme, and primal love. Before me nothing but things eternal, And eternal I endure. Abandon all hope, you who enter here.

Dante Alighieri, The Divine Comedy : Inferno, Canto III, 1321

Andrew was tired, but then he was tired all the time.

As he prepared himself a strong coffee that morning, Sam was busy on her phone, probably going through her social media or reading the news. It didn’t really bother him, he was quiet in the morning anyway, liked to start slowly, to emerge into the world in a silent and gentle way. He was naturally a night owl, it was a struggle every morning to get out of bed early. At least, before the new year of classes started, he could go to work later, no classes schedule early these days.

Elwood was sleeping again. After an early walk around the neighbourhood, the dog was back on his comfortable bed, curled in a black and white ball, softly snoring. Andrew looked at his dog with love, refraining from petting his head, choosing to let him rest instead. He was a good boy, he deserved all the sleep he wanted.

He thought of you as he poured some coffee in his favourite mug. The meeting to distribute classes for the upcoming year was today. Of course, there had been one already before summer, so lecturers could begin preparing their classes if they needed. But some new arrivals would change a few things, some negotiations between lecturers too. Andrew himself was going to switch a class with Colm, another professor from the English department, inheriting a class about Yeats’s poetry instead of biblical studies. If he wasn’t against some religious metaphors – and given the weight of religion in Ireland, Andrew reckoned that he could never escape from it anyway – he was happy to avoid teaching about it.

But you were new at Trinity, and he wanted you to enjoy yourself during your first year. Upon his arrival, Andrew had lacked a guide, someone who would explain to him how things worked, especially the more selfish and ruthless side of the institution. If Trinity was wrapped in traditions, it was also filled with professors who cared little about their colleagues thriving in their academic pursuits, especially if that meant compromising with their own wants. Some professors were kinder than others, more willing to compromise. He’d help you navigate through the meetings, and hoped you could get to choose your classes too…

“My mother wants to invite us on Sunday,” Sam broke the silence that covered Andrew’s kitchen. A blank silent, an emotionless one; neither uncomfortable of comfortable, one that was there to settle on the furniture and in the corners of the room and simply lay there, undisturbed.

“I can’t on Sunday, I’m helping Jon with his film project, and then I’ll have lunch at my parents’. You were supposed to come to lunch with me.”

Andrew turned to Samantha then, sipping on his coffee and grabbing an apple as a breakfast. She said nothing, but her frown spoke volume. She was annoyed, maybe even angry.

“It was planned, baby. I’m sorry, we can go next week.”

“I think I’ll go see my parents anyway,” she said, her tone cold and firm, the one Andrew knew meant that he had no chance of changing her mind. He heaved a sigh, rubbed at his tired eyes with the back of his hand.

“As you wish, I’ll warm my mom.”

“You’re really not coming with me?” she asked, and her eyes were throwing daggers at him.

Andrew bit on the inside of his cheek, his stare growing sterner as well.

“I had planned to spend time with my family, and my brother needs my help. I’ll come with you another time.”

We had planned to spend time with my family… but he didn’t say that out loud, unwilling to start an argument.

She mumbled something under her breath, turning to her phone again; something about ‘a useless film’, and Andrew didn’t want to hear her comment, he knew he wouldn’t like it.

“Won’t you be late for work?” she asked, her voice calmer again, but the remark annoyed Andrew anyway.

“I don’t have classes, and the meeting is at 1pm, I can take my time.”

She could have added a comment on his time blindness, but she didn’t, and he was grateful for it. He relaxed a bit thanks to that.

“Busy day for you today?” he asked, and she heaved a sigh in response.

“Yeah, I don’t think I’ll come over tonight. Besides, we might go for drinks with the guys from the tech company we’re working with at the moment. Do you remember? I told you about them.”

“Of course, I remember, honey,” he answered with a soft, tender voice.

“I still haven’t finished that bloody logo for them…”

Andrew was brought back to their university days then, when she studied art and he studied literature. When she longed to paint all day long and he fumbled through notebooks and broken guitar strings. When they both had dreams that were too big for them. They had made a choice, had decided to finish their degrees, and not to make the hardest of the sacrifices that would have opened the gates to a life filled with art. Andrew had changed major from music to English during his first year, had passed his exams instead of spending his time in a studio. Samantha had specialized in design and publicity, and had given up her brushes that painted the coasts of Ireland in favour of simpler shapes created on a screen. Andrew couldn’t say that he had regrets about it. He liked his life like this, on the outskirts of Dublin, sharing his love for poetry, writing his own poems, waking up most days by Samantha’s side, even if after all these years she still didn’t want them to move in together, and he couldn’t fathom why. He loved his job beyond measure, always finding a fascinating detail to study, something new to read that would shake his world. He still sang with friends when he felt like it, sometimes wrote music to fit his poetry. He had a full life, a happy one, he couldn’t complain, really.

He thought about the engagement ring he had bought once, when she wasn’t ready to get married. She had said no, it had broken something inside of him. But he loved her, he would be patient, he could wait, and anyway, that was years ago…

“You’ll do an amazing job, you always do,” he encouraged her, but she rolled her eyes.

“You’re too sweet sometimes,” her words were spoken as criticism, not as a compliment. He clenched his jaw.

“Anyway, I’ll be pretty busy too, today,” he said, even though she hadn’t asked about his plans for the day, but then she hardly ever asked. She listened when he spoke about it though, and that ought to be enough. “We have our final meeting to select the classes we’re going to teach. I’m a little worried for Y/N, though.”

“Why? I’m sure she can take care of herself.”

Sam’s tone was a little dry still, he wasn’t sure if she were jealous or simply still annoyed.

“Trinity isn’t always filled with the nicest people. A lot of academics are quite selfish sometimes. I want her to have a nice time teaching. She seems very nice. And I arrived only last year, I know how stressful this situation can be.”

Sam nodded, but didn’t seem convinced.

Andrew threw the core of the fruit in the bin, finished his coffee, washed his mug. He didn’t want to argue, didn’t want to fight. Still, for some reason, he really wanted to talk about you. He had been worried upon learning that someone would share his office now, and he was relieved to find that you were kind, smart, and everything but annoying. He hoped the two of you could become friends.

“Y/N said that she found a poster for the office too! Can’t wait to see what she’s chosen.”

“Nice,” Sam nodded, and Andrew knew she wasn’t paying attention anymore.

He let out a long exhale through his nose, and she didn’t notice. He grabbed his water bottle, crossed the room, stopped to drop a peck on her head as he walked by her.

“Have a nice day, babe. I love you.”

“You too. Love you.”

She didn’t look up from her phone, and it sounded automatic, the way she answered. Andrew remembered when they started dating, about seven years ago. Both in their early twenties, young and naïve and heads full of dreams. She used to stare at him for hours, she used to look him in the eyes every time she said she loved him, to make sure he knew she meant it. He wasn’t so sure she meant it every time she said it anymore…

He pushed the thoughts away; he reckoned that this was his busy, anxious brain talking. Instead, he put on his shoes and his denim jacket, grabbed his bag and slung it over his shoulder. He stopped thinking about Sam, and thought about you and the poster you had promised you would bring today, and he walked out of his flat.

The meeting was over, and you seemed happy. Actually, you seemed ecstatic. And it made Andrew happy as well.

He had managed to get the class about Yeats, as planned. He had helped you through the meeting, discreetly, in whispers, but it was enough for you to secure classes you were interested in teaching. This year, you would teach three classes bound directly to your research, a general introduction to 19th century English literature, another about revolutionary writings in which you planned on including a fair share of pamphlets about women’s rights, and another about 19th century novels. You were buzzing with excitement as you walked back to your office, chatting with Andrew and his good friend Colm.

“I have so many things to prepare, but also… I feel very confident in these subjects,” you grinned at the two men.

“You can’t be happier than Andy finally teaching only classes he wanted,” Colm laughed, bright and loud, throwing his head back like a child despite the fact that he was middle-aged man.

Andrew nodded, heaving a relieved sigh.

“I thought Lydia was about to make a scandal…”

“She didn’t want you to leave one of the difficult classes. You’re too popular a teacher for that.”

Andrew rolled his eyes.

“I definitely am not.”

“You are too! Students love him,” Colm added, turning towards you. “And I will easily admit he’s a good professor, great at explaining things, and always very calm. But let’s be honest, the fact that most of our students are attracted to him helps a lot.”

Andrew looked away, trying to hide that he was blushing, but you laughed anyway.

“Such a pretty mug!” Colm teased, trying to grab Andrew’s chin, but he merely pushed his friend away, laughing.

“Quit your nonsense, would you?” Andrew laughed. “Don’t listen to him, Y/N. He loves talking shite about others.”

“That is not true! Y/N! Please, with your feminine point of view… tell him I’m right.”

You chuckled, shied away, but answered anyway.

“Oh, I’m sure Andrew must be popular, yes. I would have definitely preferred staring at his face when I was a student, compared to the old dinosaurs I had to put up with.”

Andrew was blushing so hard, even his ears were turning a bright shade of red, but he couldn’t refrain his grin nonetheless.

“Please, tell me I don’t fall in that category!” Colm protested, making you laugh.

“No… not quite yet. You still have a couple of years ahead of you,” you joked, and Andrew burst into laughter, while Colm mumbled something under his breath, rolling his eyes.

“Well, children, this is my stop, have a good day,” he mumbled, entering his office while Andrew and you continued a bit further.

“I’m glad you’ll give classes you’re interested in,” Andrew said, giving you a warm smile.

“Thank you so much for helping me throughout the meeting. It was… a lot to take in.”

“Yeah, some people here are proper gobshites.”

You laughed at that, entering your shared office.

“Hmm… I have noticed, yes. You seem particularly fond of Ian,” you chuckled, and Andrew rolled his eyes.

“I’m a very peaceful kind of lad, but that arsehole deserves to get some sense being punched into him.”

You raised a surprised eyebrow at that. If you had been teasing, the fact that Andrew had turned more serious as he answered made you intrigued now, rather than playful.

“Really? What did he do?”

Andrew stared at you for a few seconds, wetting his lips before he would answer.

“Nothing illegal, don’t worry. But he’s an arsehole. He will destroy your career and reputation if it serves his interests. Especially if you’re a woman.”

He saw you clenching your jaw at that last remark, and he heaved a sigh.

“I’m sorry,” he shook his head, and he hoped you could see that he meant it.

“Don’t be sorry, it’s not you who is at fault. Anyone else I should be cautious about?”

“Mahon, O’Reilly, Evans, Hillstone and Patterson.”

You raised a surprised eyebrow.

“You’ve got a whole list ready,” you pointed out.

“I’ve been here for a year. Fool me once, shame on you…”

You slowly nodded, Andrew sighed again.

“Don’t worry, the rest of the bunch are nice though. Most of them are nice.”

“I’m used to it.”

You shook yourself out of the conversation, a smile growing on your features.

“I have something to show you!”

Andrew frowned a little at that, bending to avoid the lamp hanging from the ceiling as he walked over to your desk. He had grabbed his thermos filled with his favourite brand of tea.

“Really?”

You pulled out a rolled poster, and he laughed.

“Oh! So you did settle on some decoration!” he pointed out, while he opened the buttons of his grey tweed waistcoat. He buried his hand in the pocket of his tweed pants while you fumbled with the empty frame.

He put down his thermos on the edge of your desk, then pushed back a strand of hair that was falling across his eyes, readjusted his glasses upon his nose. You were quick to place the poster in the frame, and you grinned up at him once you were done, right before turning the frame around to show him the poster.

“I love this illustration. I had it hanging in my dorm when I was a student, and then in my first apartment. But my fiancé finds it a little… dark. And he’s not particularly interested in literature so… he doesn’t really get it. Anyway!”

You stopped your little rambling, grabbed the frame, and showed it to him.

Andrew raised a surprised eyebrow, immediately recognising Gustave Doré’s illustration of Dante’s Inferno.

The black and white print showed Virgil and Dante standing on the edge of a precipice, staring at a hurricane carrying the souls of sinners, talking to a couple crying in their everlasting punishment. Andrew had not read the book since his own college days, but he remembered that this was the punishment for those guilty of lust.

“Do you like it? Can I hang it?” you asked, an excited smile he found adorable on your lips. “I thought the black and white would fit your poster quite well.”

“Sure, go ahead. Need help?”

But you were already placing the frame against the wall.

“I have to admit, I’m quite surprised by your choice,” Andrew inspected the print, leaning against your desk, his hands still in his pockets. “I didn’t picture you as a fan of Dante… especially given his… conservative thoughts.”

“I love Inferno. I’m not going to pretend that I love the entirety of the Divine Comedy, but I love Dante’s image of hell. The haunting part of it. The way it is structured. Of course, it’s medieval thinking about issues that have radically changed now, but… It was a long time ago. If I don’t appreciate all of his thoughts, I do admire his imagination. Besides, it was a heavily political book. I’m surprised you don’t give him more credit for that.”

He answered your teasing smile with a genuine one.

“I do remember a little bit of that. Last time I read it, though… I was a student and hadn’t chosen to suffer through it. Besides… I think I was a little too young to understand it fully.”

You nodded.

“I’ve read it many times. I don’t know, there’s something… something about it that draws me in. Not the Christian moral lessons, of course. But just… I don’t know… there’s something fascinating about it. And I often wonder what our version of hell would be today. If we kept the structure, if we kept the place Dante created… how would we view those who are imprisoned there? Would we find their pain justified? Would we find it unfair to punish them like this? And who would we place in there? If we replaced the references to people Dante knew by people from our world, who would be stuck in Hell?”

Andrew pondered on these questions while he kept on listening to you. He had a few names in mind, for sure. He smiled at the thought, didn’t interrupt you while you babbled away about the book, about the things you loved and disliked about it.

“And I love Doré’s illustrations so much! They’re haunting, just like the book. And this one in particular, with Francesca and Paolo… like… their story is so sad, but even Dante was touched by them. Even if the moral in his book is outdated now, goes against what I believe… I’d like to think that we’d turn their story around today, that we wouldn’t condemn their love or include such a warning towards fiction through them, you know… with the whole reference to Arthurian myths and everything… don’t know if you remember that… but anyway… what would we think of them today? I’d like to believe we would find their punishment in hell unfair.”

You trailed off after that. You were nervous when you looked at him, pushing some of your hair behind your ear.

“Sorry for the ramble,” you apologised, but Andrew frowned in response.

“No need to apologise. Why would you?”

“I didn’t mean to bother you.”

“You’re not bothering me at all. Your thoughts are very interesting.”

You blinked at him, as if surprised. You gave him a bright smile, growing a little shy.

“Right, thanks. But we should get back to work.”

Andrew nodded, moved away from your desk and bent again to avoid the lamp hanging from the ceiling.

He looked at you as you stared at the poster for a moment. He was happy you were the one sharing his office, you were getting along well, you were so nice, you were so smart and always seemed to have something interesting to say. He just wanted to talk to you more about this book you loved, but you were right, you both had a lot of work to do. He should focus on this article he was reading before the meeting. Instead, he looked at you for a moment longer. And before his brain pushed the thought away, before Samantha was on his mind again, he didn’t fail to notice how beautiful you were.

He looked for his thermos across his desk, furrowing his brow when he didn’t find it there. He rolled his eyes, annoyed at himself when he remembered where it was.

He walked over to your desk again, reached for it while you were still focused on the poster. But his fingers got clumsy as he threw you a glance, and it fell across your desk. Some of the warm beverage was spilled on the wooden surface.

“Shite! God!”

You turned around at the sound, but Andrew didn’t see your eyes growing slightly round. Instead, as a reflex, he had grabbed your phone and papers to secure them, was already looking for some tissues to clean the mess he had made. You reached for some Kleenex tugged inside your backpack.

“Christ, I’m so sorry,” Andrew profusely apologised, hurrying to clean your desk too. “Sorry, I’m so… long, clumsy limbs… I’m so sorry…”

He cursed at himself under his breath, didn’t look at you, fiercely blushed. Always count on him to ridicule himself…

“That’s nothing, don’t worry about it,” you reassured him, and when Andrew looked up again, you had an earnest smile on your lips. “It was just an accident, don’t worry about it.”

“I’m sorry…”

Andrew was so flustered, so embarrassed… He finished cleaning, handed you back your things without making eye-contact, rubbed at his collarbone through his shirt as soon as his hands were empty again.

When he finally looked up once more, you were still smiling.

“It’s nothing, Andrew. It’s merely a little bit of tea. Besides, you’ve saved the most important items on my desk. Nothing to be so upset about.”

The anxious side of him had kicked in, he couldn’t help it. He ran his fingers through his hair several times while he forced out a chuckle.

“I know, sorry…”

Andrew walked back to his desk, looked at his computer screen while he heard you chuckling lightly. He saw in the corner of his eyes that you were fondly shaking your head at him.

Why did he have to always make a fool of himself, huh?

All you wanted to do was to rush home to share the good news with Frank.

You had managed to get interesting classes, including some linked to your research… you were so excited to get to work and begin teaching in October.

When you came home, Frank was on his computer, working. He kissed you when you leaned closer, but focused on his screen again, and so you decided to wait for dinner to talk to him about your day.

You took a shower, prepared dinner. Frank was still working, he only stopped when you told him dinner was ready.

“Smells nice,” he said with a smile, squeezing your hand, and you took the gesture for a silent thank you.

“Thanks!”

Frank remained silent as he started to eat, and so you jumped on the opportunity to speak about your day.

“The meeting about classes and lectures was today. And it went so well!” you started babbling away, Frank looking up at you with an emotionless gaze. “I’ve managed to get topics I’m interested in, and I’m going to teach about my research too! I mean… not directly about my research, but problematics bound to it! I’ll have a class about the male gaze and female gaze dynamics, another about feminism and feminist essays…”

“That’s great, babe.”

“Yeah! Andrew helped me navigate through the meeting quite a bit, and he got the classes he wanted too, so…”

“That’s nice.”

“Yeah! And…”

“Could you hand me the salt, please?”

“Sure. I’m also gonna work quite a lot on the 19th century, which is great! I like that period, especially for novels. And that means that I can include lots of female writers, like Austen and the Brontë sisters, obviously… but I can also spend some time on feminist movements, cause that’s really an important century for them.”

“Good, good…”

“Yeah, that’s grand, and…”

He heaved a sigh, and you grew quiet.

“You’re alright?” you asked, trying not to show your disappointment.

You knew that this question meant that the conversation would focus on him for a while, and you might not be able to talk about today again.

“I… Y/N, we need to talk.”

Your heart sank.

That was not the answer you were expecting…

“Talk?”

“About us.”

“What? What do you mean? About the wedding, you mean?”

“No, I…”

He hesitated, looked at you for a moment, before putting his fork down.

“I think we should break up.”

And that was it. Words that were shattering your world spoken like they were easy to let out, like they didn’t mean the earthquake they produced. You merely stared for a moment, waiting for Frank to tell you that he was joking, to take his words back. But he didn’t.

“I’m sorry,” he went on. “But I think we should go our separate ways.”

“What the fuck are you talking about? We’re engaged! We’re going to get married!”

“I’m sorry, Y/N… I know it’s pretty sudden…”

“PRETTY SUDDEN! WE’RE ENGAGED! YOU’RE EATING MY FUCKING FOOD!”

“There’s no need to shout…”

“NO NEED TO SHOUT! OF COURSE, THERE IS A NEED TO SHOUT! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?!”

“I’m sorry… but it’s best if we don’t stay together.”

“Why? What happened? You… We’re supposed to get married…”

“I’ve met someone else, Y/N.”

Your eyes grew round, and suddenly all air had left your lungs.

“You… you’re cheating on me?!” you asked, your voice lowering again, your emotions bubbling too much, tears rising to your eyes.

“No! No! No!” Frank defended himself, shaking his head vehemently. “Nothing happened. I swear, nothing happened… but… Y/N, if I am able to feel this way for another woman, then we shouldn’t get married.”

“For how long have you known her? Who is it?”

“You don’t know her. We’ve met through work.”

“How long?”

“Not long… a few weeks.”

You raised an unimpressed eyebrow, crossing your arms before your chest.

“A few weeks? You’re trying to make me believe that you want to leave me for a woman you’ve met weeks ago?!”

“You don’t understand, we’re in love…”

You felt your head starting to spin, you had buried it in your hands.

This was a nightmare, just a bad dream, you would wake up and everything would get back to normal, you would tick all the right boxes again…

“What do you mean in love?”

“I love her. I know that it sounds… mental, but I do. And if I can fall in love with someone else like this… then you and I shouldn’t get married. It means that I… that I don’t love you enough to marry you.”

“You’ve got to be joking…”

“I’m not. I’m sorry, but I’m serious.”

“What’s her name?”

“Does it matter?”

“No, no… Do you want to be with her?”

“Yes. But I don’t know if she’ll want to be with me.”

“Really?”

“She’s not single either.”

You laughed then, tears streaming down your face too, unable to cope with the tidal wave of emotions that was drowning you.

Denial, pain, betrayal, anger, sadness…

“I’ll gather my things,” he said, standing up while you started shaking on your chair, struggling to breathe.

You didn’t even notice that he was moving away, that he was packing… you remained frozen on your seat, sobbing, while Frank was gathering fragments of your lives and tearing them away from your space.

He only reappeared about an hour later in the kitchen, the rest of your meal was cold. You hadn’t moved an inch.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

And then he was gone.

[moonbaby26]

As we know, Oda made the original seven warlords all animal themed. With Doflamingo -duh- being a flamingo 🦩💖. But in this post I wanted to add the additional reasons I find it funny that my favorite warlord is indeed, a bird. Because most birds are chaotic, evil trainwrecks if you didn’t know! Do not be fooled by their elegant propaganda of the American bald eagle, peacock, and such.

Far more bird species are of the hissing/unpredictable/possessive/oversexed/homicidal/drama queen variety.

And as part of my example, I will be introducing my pet cockatiel! He is a male, lutino color variant. I took him to the avian vet recently to get a quick nail trim (he treats my arm like a bloodied ski slope with his little feet razors otherwise).

The likeness is uncanny, right? Spiked up blond hairdo and all. 🤣

But here is my rambling list below of why Doflamingo fits the bird theming beyond just his aesthetics. Note, all species are different. These are just generalities.

1. Birds are needy, attention whores. Realistically, this comes from wanting the attention and safety of their flock. And my bird gets plenty of out of cage time with us. But oh my god, sometimes if he hears me so much as sneeze and he can’t see me…WHY AM I IN THE HOUSE, BUT NOT WITH HIM!? WHY!? RED ALERT. He starts flock calling for me, and I must respond with at least a whistle or he will begin screaming. Because surely, someone must be murdering me if I don’t come to him immediately.

2. They are complete horndogs. Seriously, everyone thinks humping inappropriate things is a male dog exclusive problem. Nope. There are professional bird behaviorists that people literally pay to come teach them how to calm their pet birds’ sexual aggression and the nightmare that can become. You have to be mindful of how you interact with them, lest they start thinking YOU are their mate and begin attacking anyone else in the house who is not you. Because they are jealous. So jealous. I only pet/preen my bird on his head. As that is perfectly platonic flock behavior. But touching anywhere else (back or chest for example) can make them think it’s sexy time. Male birds will hump the utter hell out of “favorite” objects. Birds kept with others must be monitored that no one is getting ganged up on. But it happens in the wild too. Female ducks need pepper spray or self defense classes. I’ll just leave it at that.

3. They are murderous/violent, and easily overstimulated. So my bird weighs around 80 grams give or take. As an adult human, he’s not going to take me down anytime soon. But if he wanted to, he likely could bite me hard enough to go to the bone. He never has truly bitten me, but I watch his body language. He runs up wanting to be petted. Or sits on me long enough that he falls asleep. He likes to be together, but always on his terms. If I touched him too much, or when he didn’t want it, he’d definitely bite me. People have lost eyes to larger birds. People have had to have reconstructive surgery from parrot bites. They can crush whole nuts in their beak. So what do you think they’ll do to your face when they are sitting on your shoulder and suddenly get triggered (which they very easily are)? Humans have been drowned by swans. And forget it when it comes to something like the Cassowary. You’re already dead if they really wanted you to be.

4. They are opportunistic. Oh look, more murder! People think only birds of prey are the true meat eaters. But a pelican would eat you if it thought it could swallow you. Even the smallest birds have been observed killing other birds and small mammals if they can. Food is food. They are not cute to their victims. They are survivalists. No mercy. Ever. Some baby birds actually eat their own nestmates if one sibling is stronger than the others (sorry Rosi, there really was a precedent for that 😰).

5. They are territorial. And still more murder! In my own yard we have birdhouses made for Eastern bluebirds. They’re a species that legit benefits from human intervention as bluebirds will only nest in cavities, which they have less of now because of deforestation and competition with non native species taking said cavities. Non native species (for the US anyway) of the European house sparrow in particular. House sparrows are tiny. Smaller than a bluebird. But they will slaughter a bluebird family. All over territory during breeding season. They enter the bluebird nest and will peck even the adult bluebirds to death if they can catch them on the nest. They killed a male bluebird of ours this way. Now we put up “sparrow spookers” on our active bluebird nests once eggs are in the box. It’s just mylar streamers that blow in the wind, and the sparrows are afraid to fly through it. But every breeding season we have to go through this again. Basically Riku dynasty versus Donquixote dynasty in our backyard with the invading house sparrows.

And I could go on and on really, about greed, mood swings, vanity, etc. But you get the idea now. Murder, sex, and bright plumage. Heavy emphasis on the murder especially. He really is a bird in every sense of the word. 😅

Edit: Oh! And I forgot grudges! Some birds will hold a grudge for ages. Just ask a crow. I thought my bird would be over my betrayal of the vet visit by today. Nah. He’s still pissed. He won’t come to me right now. He fakes me out to offer my hand to him, then says, nah, bitch! And opens his mouth like he rather bite. It’ll be a few days I guess. 🤣 Never betray a Donquixote!

[xiaoscarasimp]

Horny Drabble 2-Ribbons and Smut

Merry Christmas everyone ^^ I wanted to do a Christmas themed smut piece and this ended up being way longer than intended (but still short)

Cw: afab reader, biting, pet names, choking, degradation, etc etc MDNI pls

“Ah, shit, it's supposed to wrap around this way? No wait, this way?”

You were having problems trying to figure out how to wrap the purple ribbon around yourself; you were starting to look like a hot mess, almost falling over. There was supposed to be a bow on your front, across your chest and it was supposed to be wrapped around your torso, plunging down towards your crotch in a V shape, showing off your soon to be leaking pussy. The thought of seeing your boyfriend's reaction to your “present” to him was already making you excited.

You tried a few more times to wrap the ribbon around yourself, eventually settling for a bow on top of your head, a lacy purple bra and bow on your chest, and matching panties and stockings. There was supposed to be the ribbon around the stockings as well, but you got frustrated on trying to put it on. Waiting for Scaramouche to get home, you wrap up in a warm blanket because your torso was getting cold, despite the fireplace going in the background. The heat starts to make you sleepy and you drift off with thoughts of the long, long night with Scara.

An hour or two later, Scaramouche comes through the door, clearly exhausted from work. You wake up, still a bit groggy and greet him in the kitchen, blanket off, revealing your special Christmas outfit. At first his eyes went wide, then they settled on a lustful gaze.

“My, my,” He coos, pupils blown wide with lust. “What do we have here? My very own personal Christmas slut? Aww, y/n you shouldn't have.” Scaramouche comes over to you and tilts your head up with a finger running under your chin, staring deep into his deep indigo eyes. The storm of lust was just beginning.

“Merry Christmas!” You say cheerfully.

Scara picks you up and carries you to the bedroom princess style. He whispers into your neck how he wants to ravage his present, starting with your breasts. Your boyfriend nibbles at your neck while he is performing his ministrations, lapping at the skin to surely leave a mark. You're already a moaning mess and he hasn't even taken his clothes off; your neck has always been your weak spot.

He carefully, but roughly, puts you on the bed, climbing on top of you, a knee between your already drenched pussy. You moan once the knee hits it and attempt to grind on it, leaving a stain on his jeans. Removing the knee, Scaramouche leans down to kiss you enticingly,passionately, roughly. His lips were the electric jolt your body needed, one of the things your body craved. Thrusting his tongue in your mouth, you two perform a choreographed dance, him taking the lead, nibbling at your lips as you danced.

“Gods, you look so cute underneath me like this,” He temporarily paused his assault on your lips, cupping your face with a smile. Scara then went straight for your neck again, licking a stripe up one side, then kissing and biting down the other.

“S-scara,”you moan, overstimulated already.

“Shh, darling” He coos with a smirk on his face. “Let me have my fun.”

Scaramouche then makes his way down to your breasts, groping one while his tongue swirled around the nipple of the other. The way he was pulling and tugging on the sensitive bud, you swore that he was going to tear it off. Needless to say, you found a lot of pleasure in the pain.

“Please,” you beg. “Please just let me cum.” You were about to cum just from him sucking on your breasts.

“Ah-ah-ah” He tuts. “I need to savor my present and Christmas dinner.”

He dives down towards your pussy, licking it and teasing the clit. Scara thrusted his tongue in your needy, leaking hole, lapping up the juices that spilled forth from it. It’s his ambrosia; the sweetest nectar he could have ever tasted in his entire life. After savoring the taste for a little while he sits up, eyes half lidded, drunk on your pussy and finally lines himself up with your hole. He decides to take it agonizingly slow, plunging in centimeter by centimeter, allowing you to crave it all the more.

“Scara please, hurry up,” you whine.

Big mistake.

“Know your place,” He growls.

Scaramouche's hand finds purchase on your neck, squeezing gently at first. Noticing your reaction of pleasure, he squeezed a bit harder, your walls squeezing him in turn. He knew you liked to play rough sometimes, and tonight was about pleasuring not only himself but you are well.

He starts to thrust slowly at first, each stroke causing tantalizingly slow. It wasn't long before he was thrusting faster and at irregular pace that your hole started sucking him in even more, craving the member in its wake. The sounds of sex reverberate in the room, the plap plap of skin slapping together was making the experience all the better

“Scara,” you moan. “Faster, please!!”

“Such a needy slut for me,” Scaramouche breathes in your ear. “Do it. Cum on my cock like the whore you are.”

Few seconds later, you allow the coil in your stomach to come unwound, cumming on his member. Not long after he filled you up, leaving his dick in your hole to ensure not a drop was wasted.

“Merry Christmas, darling.”

[friedbaekhyunandeggso]

found you - ch. 5 (part III)

pairing: gojo satoru x female oc (ara natsuna)

tropes: psycho! rival! athlete! yandere! gojo x introvert! booksmart! sheltered! rbf! oc

warnings: 18+ only babes, stalking/possessive themes, profanity, coercion, pet names (kitten), gaslighting, manipulation, underage drinking, praising, unprotected & protected sex, rough sex, mentions of suicide & depression, toxic jealousy, begging, chokehold, fingering, squirting, oral (f receiving), overstimulation, w33d, mentions of hard drugs (ecstasy, cocaine)

word count/plot: [15.5k!] ara catches gojo's attention when news breaks that she is the top academically ranked student in their grade. he is ranked second. he tries to befriend her but she ignores him. despite her obvious disinterest, his obsession begins...

a/n: ok this part took me forever to write bc i lowkey suck ass at writing backstories. hopefully ya'll r able to understand what i wrote for that part (you'll see what i mean once u read it). also i skim editted this chapter so if some of it is in lowercase, don't blame me. i actually prefer to type in lowercase but since i started writing this fic with correct capitalization i wanted to be consistent w that. anyway, have fun reading. i'm so excited to read ur guy's comments hehe

ch. 1 , ch. 2 [ part 1 | part 2 ] , ch. 3 , ch. 4 , chapter 5 [ part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 ]

Ara pulled the blanket up to Millie’s shoulders. She was passed out, like most of her classmates once they brought the party inside the penthouse suite of the hotel. It was nearly 5 am so she couldn’t blame them.

“Psst.”

Ara glanced over to see Gojo walking her way, a drink in hand. She knew he didn’t drink so..

“If that drink is for me then you can put it away.”

He grinned, “Nah it’s water.”

“Oh,” she took it from him and then took a sip, only to spit it out, “That’s vodka!”

“Eheheh,” She shoved him as he sat down on the couch beside her. He motioned towards Millie, “She’s out?”

Ara nodded, “She drank enough for everyone combined.”

“That’s what I’m talking about.”

Ara squinted, “You don’t even drink.”

“Shhh,” he slipped his hand into hers, “Can I steal you now?”

“For what?”

“I have to show you something.”

She was silent for a moment, “It’s too early for a prank.”

He grinned brightly, “It’s not a prank. I promise.”

She let him take her by the hand and lead the way. As they walked through, she spotted Choso laying down passed out a bean bag and Geto asleep on the couch across from him, his leg hanging off the edge.

Gojo led her to one of the rooms, opening the door a bit carefully to peek inside and make sure it was the right one before pushing the door wide open for her. He motioned with his chin for her to go in, a little smirk on his face.

She entered to see balloons covering nearly every square inch of the floor, making the bed almost look like an island. The lit candles made the vast, modern room smell of comforting vanilla, maybe a hint of strawberry as well. The glass windows were wide open, revealing a sickening view of their beautiful city.

She was astonished, “Gojo..” she was about to turn around to face him but suddenly a hand rested on back, urging her forward.

“Keep going.”

She complied with his gentle pushes towards the bed, pushing aside balloons as they went. That was when she spotted the rather big box on the flower petal covered bed. The box was perfectly wrapped in glossy white wrapping paper with a pastel purple bow at the center.

She sat down on the bed, her eyes widening as she took in the box’s size.

He spoke quietly, “Open it.”

She glanced up at him, “Toru, what did you do..”

 “Just open it, open it.” he urged.

She noticed his barely contained excitement and shook her head subtly. He’d already given her so much, much more than she could ever ask for and yet here he was. Giving her a gift, as if he didn’t give her several on the daily.

He plopped down on the bed across from her, resting his head on his arm as he eagerly watched her pick up the box.

She ripped open the neat wrapping only to gape when she saw the orange box underneath. Thin black ribbon was tied around the box as well, but she’d be a fool to miss the ‘Hermes’ logo printed at the center.

“Gojo, what—“ she sputtered, at a loss for words, “You.. oh my god.”

His barely contained smirk broke out into a full grin. He continued to urge her, “Keep opening it.” He was almost tempted to open it for her at the pace she was going.

Once she got the wrapper fully off, he easily pulled the ribbon loose for her. Watching with a smile as she opened the box. 

Inside was her very first Birkin. It was mainly off-white, with an ombré effect of light brown at its edges. The crocodile pattern was unmistakable. The shiny, white-gold diamond latch glittered iridescently under the dim light. (a/n: if anyone is curious abt the bag https://madisonavenuecouture.com/products/hermes-birkin-25-himalaya-niloticus-crocodile-diamond-encrusted-hardware)

She was in awe.

He cupped her elbow, thumb gliding over her forearm gently, “Happy birthday, kitten.”

She set the box down, too shocked to even touch the bag itself. This was unlike any of the Birkin’s she’d ever seen—even though she’d only seen them in videos and in Shoko’s mother’s closet but still. Its grandeur was obvious and the diamonds-real diamonds on a bag? she couldn’t even comprehend it.

“Satoru… how? Why?” It seemed english wasn’t coming to her very easily, “How much was this?”

His hand slid up her elbow to her nape. He sat up to kiss her neck. His lips on her throat made her heartbeat scatter.

“Nothing compared to you.”

“Toru,” she backed away slightly, “This isn't smart. I don’t even wear bags that much-“

“Now you will.”

She met his gaze, only for her pounding heartbeat to quicken. He was looking at her with so much adoration, maybe a hint of lust but most of all, his gaze was filled with..

She glanced away, murmuring, “This is too much.”

He always did this. Gifting her the most expensive things so easily. It never failed to make her uncomfortable at first, making her feel like he was trying to compensate her for her affection only until she realized he truly liked it—giving her things. His love language was gifts.

His fingers caressed her hair for a moment before he let go of her nape.

“Open the purse.”

Her eyes widened, “What?” 

He didn’t respond, merely pushing the box towards her.

When she didn’t move he took her hand and placed it over the Birkin’s diamond latch, expectantly waiting for her to open it.

She opened the latch hesitantly, her fingertips gliding over the bag's rigid yet wearable material before slipping her hand within. She immediately felt something.

She withdrew her hand to see a small velvet box in her palm. She opened the box to reveal a beautiful petite white-gold diamond ring. It had a twisted over pattern, with diamonds embedded in each twist. She nearly gasped.

He suddenly reached within the collar of his shirt and shuffled out a thin silver chain around his neck. At the end of the chain was a ring made of the same material as hers, shaped more like a band.

His face was flushed.

“This ring is my promise to you.” His bright blue eyes met hers and he looked serious-for once.

She noticed his adam’s apple bob in his neck.

“I promise to keep you the happiest girl in the world. I promise to give you every piece of me and more,” The corner of his lip lifted subtly, “I promise to burn down the world for you, if that’s what you want-“

She chuckled airily, shaking her head.

He took her hand, “Listen to me, I know I haven’t always been the best man but I can’t live without you, you hear? I can’t live without you.”

His eyes dropped to her hand in his, his brows furrowing,  “When you broke up with me I hated it. I hated being away from you..” 

“I never stopped thinking about you, you know,” he scanned her face, “You're right in front me and I still can’t.”

She couldn’t hold his gaze.

“I love you, Ara.” he said softly.

His thumb ran over her ring finger, “You’re getting a promise ring now but there’s gonna be an engagement ring here one day. You’re gonna be my wife.” he spoke so definitively, as if it were already fated.

She let out a small, awkward laugh, “Your seriously talking about marria-”

“I am serious.”

“You sure?” her voice was low, tantalizing, “Shoko told me you don’t believe in monogamy.”

He chuckled, “I do now.”

“Why?”

“I found you.”

She stared at him as he slid the ring onto her finger, his hand lingering over hers before he returned her stare.

The next thing he knew she was crawling into his lap, drawing him a hug so tight her narrow arms shook from the strength she was exerting. He smiled. He wound his arms around her just as tight while peppering her temple with kisses. His hand tangled itself in her hair before tugging her head back.

He leaned towards her but she pressed a hand to his chest, stopping him before their lips met.

“You can’t take that back y’know.”

“What?”

Her hands tightened around his collar, completely losing her train of thought when she felt his hard-on brush her ass. 

Her cheeks grew warm, “e-everything you just said.”

“Never.” he panted, suddenly digging his fingers into her ass before flipping her over onto the bed—him atop her. “Never, never, never.”

Her eyes widened when she saw the mirror on the ceiling. She could see everything.. her reflection.. his face in her neck, eagerly leaving love bites.. his muscular shoulders rippling under his shirt as he reached between her legs, spreading them. His fingertips grazed her pussy lips before curling around her thong. He yanked it off.

She jolted, a loud gasp leaving her lips.

His face came before her, the ring on his thin chain dangling between them, “You’re mine Ara, forever.”

She threw her head back, her head resting on his shoulder while his face dug into the crook of her nape, his lips territorially marking her neck.

His cock pistoned in and out underneath her, his hips smacking into her ass as she sat completely naked over his lap. She was making the most obscene noises, she couldn’t help it. The hand of his that wasn’t gripping her hip was right above her cunt, his fingers working her clit.

“fuckk—toru! toru!!hnnn~” her body arched.

His fingers dug into her hip, his cock slamming into her harder. His finger playing with her clit at a dizzying pressure.

“you feelso fucking good, birthday girl.” he rasped out.

She whined.

He watched her writhe atop of him, her head bouncing on his shoulder with each forceful fuck. Her hair jumped with each thrust of his hips, the dark strands splayed out over his chest, shoulder and neck. Her mouth was wide open. Her tits swinging up and down hypnotically.

The tear stained black mascara trailing down her cheeks made his cock jerk with more stamina. He bit her narrow shoulder.

She yanked at his fluffy white hair, “TORU!!”

“cum ara, cum right fucking now.”

She shook her head wildly. “satoru..please, i can’t-f-fuck.”

His cock hammered into her, she could barely breathe. everything hurt. she swore she could feel his cock head swell within her. his cock was so hard.

She gasped out between fucks, “hnn—can’t, toru. can’t. so big. too big.”

“i know i’m big baby. but your cunny can take it, i know she can.”

She tried to push away his hand at her clit, “i can’t,” she cried, “t’much—“

His hand remained fixed over her navel, instead his fingers picked up the pace. his cock grinding into her cervix, making her cunt let out the most embarrassingly wet sounds she’d ever heard.

Her eyes rolled to the back of her head, “ohhhhhnnnnm~”

Her body burned with pleasure. his cock felt obscenely hot inside her as she felt herself twitch around him. His cock made her feel so deeply full, she wondered if her cunt had finally been stretched to the limit–if he’d finally broken her.

“Ohmygod-my god-nghhh!”

Her body jerked atop him, wave after wave of pleasure coursing through her. Feeling like this shouldn’t be real–all of this-him-couldn’t be real.  she couldn’t take it.

She moaned weakly. her cunt spraying liquids despite him still being inside her—deliriously grinding his cock deeper into her. His cockhead touching her deepest parts.

“Araaaaa~” he sighed brokenly into her ear. She felt like heaven.

Her eyes flitted open as her jerking subsided. She caught sight of herself in the mirror above and froze. The sight caused a cold jolt up her spine.

She looked... slutted out. her eyeshadow, mascara and liner had all blurred together into a seamless smoky eye, minus for the trails of supposedly waterproof mascara running down the corners of her eyes. her lipstick was smudged. her skin was covered in hickeys, including one on her chin. several on her cleavage and tits. Her nipples were surrounded by teeth marks.

His white hair tickled her cheek as he shifted slightly, his cock still inside her. His hot breath traveled down her neck, making her skin tingle. she couldn’t help but notice how large his muscular thighs looked underneath her smooth ones.

Her body jerked once more, an aftermath of her high.

“Good girl.” he praised, giving her clit a small squeeze–making her entire body twitch. She whined as he laughed, his fingers continuing to explore her. He touched the wetness along her pussy lips.

She heard his breath hitch beside her ear, “This pussy is gonna be the death of me.”

Her cunt constricted around his cock and he growled. his fingers suddenly digging deep into her hips, making her yelp.

She tried to grab his wrists and pry his hands off but it was too late.

His cock plunged into her ruthlessly.

She felt his hot, white cum spill into her. spurting along her cramped walls. she felt it travel and dribble out of her cunt, spilling down her inner thighs.

his cum was so warm.

She squeezed her thighs together, which only drew out more cum from his cockhead. she shivered, a low whine leaving her.

“Happy birthday.” he whispered above her.

Her eyes flashed opened only to close a millisecond after when his hips bucked into her again, slowly and deep. fucking his seed back into her.

He hummed as she mewled meekly underneath him. his shoulders flexed.

“You're not even someone i should go to for this.”

“What—why?”

“Cuz you drive hella fast.”

He snapped her seat belt in place for her, “Listen, I’m still a good teacher.”

“Are you?”

“I am.”

“How?”

“I just am.”

She narrowed her eyes, “Love the confidence but seriously, why can’t you just let me have a driving instructor?”

“Cuz i want to teach you, kitten. Isn’t it gonna be so cute when you tell our kids one day-“ he mockingly began to use a kid voice, “ ‘mommy how did you learn how to drive? ‘your daddy taught me—“

She punched him in the shoulder, making him yelp. He immediately cradled his arm, groaning as if she’d brutalized him.

“Can you stop being a dumbass?” she gripped the steering wheel, “Tell me what to do.”

“Get in the back seat.”

Her glare was fierce as he quickly amended, “Okay, okay, pull out this parking spot.”

“Okay.” she pressed the gas pedal only for the car to make a loud ‘vroooom’ sound but not move.

“It’s not moving.” she stated.

He was laughing, “Because you didn’t change the gear.”

“You didn’t tell me that!”

The maid opened the door for them and they walked through. Gojo’s laughter filling the lobby.

He shook his arm around Geto’s shoulders, “Suguruuu, don’t be jealous.”

Geto shouldered him off, “I’m not jealous.”

Ara walked in after them, eyes glued to her phone.

The maid faced them, “Gojo sir, I must inform you your Dad is here. He’s currently in the gardens.”

Gojo’s grin immediately faltered, “He is?”

The maid nodded.

His voice deadpanned, “When did he come?”

“Less than an hour ago, sir.”

“Hmm,” he nodded subtly, “Thanks Macy.”

Macy merely nodded before excusing herself. Ara caught Geto’s tense expression.

Gojo spoke first, “You guys can chill in my room. I won’t be long.”

She stepped up to Gojo, “What’s wrong?”

A small smile found its way to the corner of his lip, “Nothings wrong,” his hand slipped up the side of her face, “Just wasn’t expecting him that’s all.”

She searched his face, “Are you gonna be alright?”

His smile widened, “I’ll be perfect, baby.”

She stared out the window of Gojo’s study. Her hand tightening around the circular windowsill as her eyes raked the expanse of the well kept greenery before deciding it was useless. Wherever they were they wasn’t visible from her vantage point.

She was drawn from thoughts when a loud ‘thunk’ resounded from somewhere behind her.

She turned to see Geto with a book at his feet. He bent over to retrieve it, “Oops.”

She waited a brief moment, watching as he dusted off the cover before flipping it open-skimming the pages.

“Geto.”

He immediately glanced up, his eyes a silent ‘yes?’

“Is his Dad bad?”

He glanced sideways for a moment before asking, “Satoru hasn’t mentioned him?” The question wasn’t mocking, merely inquiring with a calmness that felt almost reassuring.

There was a beat of silence, “No.”

He shut the book in his hand, a light sigh escaping him, “I don’t like him, if that’s what you wanna know. You should let Satoru tell you the whole story though.”

“There’s a story?”

He smiled slightly, “Isn’t there always?”

The bedroom doors swung open, immediately making Ara’s head snap up from the book in her lap. She sat up on the bed just as Gojo entered. If he’d been stressed it was hard to tell because the second his eyes landed on her a wide grin swept across his lips.

He crawled onto the bed, easily crowding her space to kiss her neck before laying his head on her lap.

“Satoru.” She rested her hand on forehead, pushing his hair back, “How was it?”

He sighed, eyes flitting closed, “It was fine. He left—thank god.”

“You don’t like him?”

His eyes fluttered open, examining her. He rarely talked about his family and she wasn’t slow enough to believe that was just a coincidence.

He shook his head. His index finger twirling around a strand of her hair, “He wanted to see you.”

“He knows about me?” she asked, shocked.

His hand went still within her hair, “Everyone knows about you.”

She held his gaze for a moment, “So why didn’t you let him see me?”

She saw the corner of his mouth twitch, “Cuz you don’t like meeting new people.”

“..and?”

“Cuz he doesn’t deserve to yet.” His voice held more of an edge than she expected.

And that look in his eye…she hadn’t seen that on him in a while. It reminded her of when she’d struck him, the first night he had his way with her.

He took her hand from his forehead and slid it down to his cheek, lightly kissing her wrist as he did so.

“Let me explain,” he paused, as if gathering his thoughts–until his brows furrowed and he realized he wasn’t sure where to begin.

He played with her fingers as he spoke, “My Dad has a twin. Identical. But they couldn’t be more different–honestly.” he chuckled quietly.

“How?”

 “I guess my Dad’s more likable–had this quality about him that made people want to listen. While my Uncle.. well, let's say he’s persuasive in his own way.”

He continued, “The point is. They competed with each other a lot-over everything and anything. My Dad thought of their competition as harmless fun but my Unc-not so much. He’ll never admit it though, if you ask him, but everyone knows.”

“Everyone?”

“Everyone in my family,” he clarified, before smirking up at her, “It’s gonna be your family too y’know so pay attention.”

She rolled her eyes, “What do you think I’m doing.”

He smiled slightly, “Anywho, Unc should’ve felt like he won this little competition since he was given full reins of the family business but I guess he still held a grudge. Dunno if it’s cuz Dad’s political success or Dad bein’ Gramps favorite–or Mom but-”

He cut himself off, “Right, so my Mom was actually a bet between Dad and Unc. She was Unc’s college crush and for fun they decided to see who could get with her. Dad won her over and they ended up falling in love. They got married but.. my Mom never got used to it-the politician life.”

He went on, “Dad’s career as the Director of National Intelligence was actually very strategic. It was something my Gramps wanted to get his eyes in on cuz oil refinery is more political than you might think, like they're some countries we weren't permitted to source from due to a bad political climate–even though our company is private. It was something Gramps wanted to work around and possibly manipulate—”

Ara blinked, “Wouldn’t that be illegal?”

“Just a little,” he smirked, “It wasn’t just that though, you’d have to ask Gramps the details–except he’s dead, but anyway~”

Ara’s eyes widened as he nonchalantly went on, “The beef between Dad and Unc really hit the fan a few months after Gramps died–which isn’t surprising cuz Gramps was sorta the mediator but.. I guess, it was inevitable.”

Despite his nonchalance she could tell his next words were harder for him to say, “So basically Unc had a business deal going with Israel, worth about $2 billion but since-everything going on politically, socially, you name it-Dad did not want to get involved, especially monetarily. But Unc didn’t agree, he wanted to juice as much money as he could since the US was sending Israel money anyway and he wanted a piece.”

He continued, “Dad knew he would try to see the deal through with or without his call so he started involving himself in the family business to supervise Unc which he was not happy about, so you can imagine they argued–a lot. At the office, at the house, everywhere. Dad ended up kicking Unc outta the house and threatened to hurt him if he came back.”

He sighed, “I didn’t know Dad kicked him out, I wasn’t there for that argument. Instead I was sad that Unc wasn’t coming around anymore cuz we usually hung out a lot. We hung out more than Dad and I did anyway.”

He shook his head, “I didn’t suspect anything when Unc called me to let him in so I did. We talked for a bit, caught up, he gave me a bottle of alcohol to give my Mom. I told him to give it to her himself but he said he wanted it to be a surprise for her and asked me to keep it a secret that he came by.”

She saw something flicker in his expression as he went on, he stopped playing with her fingers.

“Mom wasn’t in a great mental state–she never was, to be honest, not after marrying Dad. She hated the fame, paparazzi, everything that came with it but she tolerated it because she loved Dad. I-” Gojo never stuttered, “I didn’t know that she was an alcoholic because she hid it from me so well. She always acted happy when she was with me. She never wanted me to see her.. down. I didn’t know Unc and Dad helped her through the alcoholism and depression cuz I didn’t even know it was an issue.”

His voice was tight but he quickly recovered, “So I left the bottle on her vanity, just like he asked and she drank it all, breaking her sobriety of six months. Dad found her drunk and they started fighting–I didn’t realize they were arguing about her sobriety, I just thought he was mad she drank in general so I tried to intervene but Mom left the room once I got there. Dad and I ended up arguing but nothin' came of it cuz he basically told me to shut the fuck up and get out of his face.”

His bright blue eyes were somewhat dull as he glanced up at her, “I should tell you my Dad isn’t usually an asshole but when he’s mad he’s a different person. Everything ticks him off. He was.. in this mood for a while and Mom breaking her sobriety didn’t help. She started drinking a lot again and they were just yelling all the time. No one would tell me what was going on, Mom was pushing me away and I blamed Dad for it. It felt like he was mad at everyone for no reason and I wanted him to stop.”

He exhaled, “Unc came by again and I told him everything-about Mom and Dad fighting.. how it was.. getting to me. Unc asked me why they were fighting and I told him I didn’t know. Unc then asked me if Dad was hitting Mom and I realized I wasn’t sure. But the theory made sense because why else would Mom avoid me? She probably didn’t want me to see her bruises or marks and explain that Dad did them.”

“Obviously this theory made 10 year old me extremely upset so Unc’s solution was to give me his gun. He told me the next time I overheard Mom and Dad fighting to wave it around to scare Dad off-”

Ara’s eyes widened, “What–he gave a gun to a kid? What type of solution is that?”

A low, dry laugh left him, “At the time it made sense to me cuz Unc and I used to go hunting together and all that but he also told me Dad kicked him out the estate so I kinda did want to scare him some way cuz he really felt like public enemy 1. It felt like he was tearing the family apart.”

He ran a hand through his hair, “That night…when I was in bed I heard Mom scream–and a shit ton of thrashing. I didn’t think, I grabbed the gun and ran. I saw Dad on top of somebody, throwing punches and I-I didn’t–” he spoke through gritted teeth before exhaling, “I didn’t mean to hit him.”

Her eyebrows skyrocketed, “You shot your Dad?”

“I did. Straight through the head.”

Ara’s jaw dropped, “But wait-but your Dad.. he’s still ali-”

He squeezed her hand, “Listen, listen. I thought he was on top of Mom, beating her but it turns out he was on top of my Uncle. Mom was just in the room, yelling at him to stop because I guess my Uncle just showed up uninvited.”

He stared at her, fingers tightening around hers, “My Dad died that night. I didn’t know what the hell to do. I was freaking out but Unc came up with a plan.”

He closed his eyes, “Unc said he would take the blame. He told us to tell the cops that he snuck into the estate-which he did-and that he tried to hurt Dad but then Dad shot him. Except he would pretend that he was Dad. And that the man who died was Unc.”

She was astounded, “So… your Uncle pretended to be your Dad?”

He nodded, “Yes, and he still is. The world currently thinks my Dad is alive.”

Ara was speechless as he continued, “No one else knows because Unc and Dad are identical twins. Same blood type and-miraculously-same fingerprints, etc.”

She blinked as he sat up beside her, not letting go of her hand.

He looked at her expression with a small knowing smile, “I know you have questions.”

She glanced over at him, “Why did he do that? Did he not want you to face any repercussions?”

He nodded, “I thought he was protecting me but now I know he schemed it all. He manipulated me.”

Ara’s eyes widened, “How do you know?”

“He knew about my mom’s alcoholism and told me to give her a bottle. He sneaks into the estate and causes drama the same night he gives me a gun? A gun with the safety off?” He shakes his head, “It's not a coincidence at all.”

“If he wanted to kill your Dad, why couldn’t he just kill him himself?”

“That would’ve got him nowhere but jail. But making me do it gives him all the leverage. Pretending to be Dad to protect me gives him everything he wants. My mom, Dad’s position-his connections, the family business—all in his lap.”

He laughed dryly to himself, “Well the only thing he didn’t get for long was Mom. She killed herself.”

“What?!” she exclaimed in shock.

“It was two weeks after Dad died. Found her body in the pond by the gardens. She overdosed on prozac.”

“Prozac?” Ara gasped, “the antidepressant?”

He nodded, a small sad smile spreading across his lips, “Ironic isn’t it.”

She was silent for the longest moment, processing it all. She almost couldn’t believe it was real. It felt like the plot of some really dark CEO drama but this was reality. His reality—his life. He’d only been 10 years old. A ten year old murderer.

“I wanted to believe Unc had something to do with her death.. but I know he would never hurt her. He loved her.. She left me on her own.”

Her eyes widened. This was the saddest she’d ever seen him. His eyes glossier than normal, his jaw clenched tight and yet his lips were twisted in a bitter smile.

“I would’ve done anything she asked. We could’ve taken Unc down together but she left me.”

She squeezed his hand, “Toru-“ she murmured.

“Isn’t it funny? I feel like I found out more about her after she died. All her thoughts were in her diary, everything. If she’d just told me when she was alive-I could’ve—“ he shook his head, a shiny tear slipped down his cheek, “I don’t kn-I-“

“Stop.” she pulled him into her chest, “Stop.”

He sagged into her smaller frame, clutching her waist so tight she nearly lost her breath. For the first time in her life, she felt him trembling.

Her small fingers raked through his hair, “You were just a kid. How were you supposed to know everything she was going through? She probably didn’t tell you because she wanted to protect you.”

His arms wrapped around her tighter, “She could’ve protected me by staying alive.”

Her hand went still in his hair, “Don’t you know already, adults are selfish.”

She then realized that maybe that wasn’t the most constructive thing to say.

“I’m sorry, I meant-“

“No, you're right.” his voice was muffled in her sweater, “They are selfish. Everyone is. You have to be in this world.”

He laughed softly to himself, “Eat or be eaten.”

She shook her head, clutching his chin to make him look up, “I don’t know about all that but you have to know that her.. doing that isn’t your fault-“

“Doing what? Killing herself?”

Ara’s mouth opened partially before closing. Then opening again, “Yes.”

He smiled faintly, “You can say it y’know. She killed he-“

She flinched-snapping, “Stop, it’s not a joke.” her hands tightened around his face, “what i-i’m saying is that it’s not your fault. It was her choice. She knew the consequences. You don’t have to agree with her but you have to respect it.”

She cupped his face more gently, “It doesn’t make you any less of a person, it’s what you do now that counts. She’s still watching over you.”

His gaze seemed distant, “She’ll get her justice.”

Ara blinked, “Justice?”

His eyes suddenly sharpened, “My uncle. I still need him. I don’t know how to run the business myself yet.”

Her eyes widened, “What—y-you don’t mean kill him, right?”

Suddenly a wicked grin appeared upon his lips. He leaned close, his lips brushing over hers, “Some things are worse than death, kitten.”

She gently rubbed the face mask across her cheeks. It was a yummy baby pink color and smelled rather delicious. strawberry poundcake. it already made her skin feel cool with one application.

She used the little tool it came with to scoop more product and apply it to her forehead only to flinch when she saw Gojo in the bathroom. he stood with his back to the door, arms crossed. a crooked smile on his lips.

“Hey kitten~”

She shook her head, “I hate you.”

He grinned, making his way towards her, “You love mee.”

He stood behind her, his hands interlaced behind himself. He bent down to kiss her on the head but she moved out of his way.

“Why do you like scaring me?” she grumbled, rubbing in her face mask with a bit more ferocity.

“heh. it’s not my fault you're as unaware as a baby chick.” He held her shoulders and kissed her temple-where her face mask hadn’t been applied yet.

She shoved him off, “toru! my face mask.”

It seemed a bit of the mask had landed on the tip of his nose. he wiped it away with his thumb, looking at it curiously, “mmm, smells yummy.”

She raised a brow as he continued to stare at the blob on his finger and gripped his wrist the second he brought his finger towards his lips.

“Are you stupid? it’s not edible.”

She grabbed a nearby hand towel and hastily wiped it off his finger before tossing the towel somewhere on the counter.

He watched silently as she continued applying the face mask on her face. His eyes glowing with curiosity.

“What’s it supposed to do?”

“Make you poreless.”

He picked up the face mask jar to read the description just as she’d been reaching for some more. She sucked her teeth impatiently.

He slid the jar back to her. He blinked innocently, “Can I use some?”

“No.”

“Whyyyy~”

“Cuz you're already poreless.”

That made him grin. He touched the sides of his face as he leaned towards the mirror, “Am i?”

She rolled her eyes. It was too early for his buffoonery. This was supposed to be self-care sunday. emphasis on self. And she’d told him that, yet here he was.

He leaned against the bathroom counter, facing her with a mischievous glint in his eyes, “If you wanted a face mask you could’ve jus asked me.”

Her brows furrowed-confused-only to freeze when she realized. She grimaced, “Your nasty as hell.”

“Oh come on~”

She shoved him as he neared her, “Stop. You're actually annoying me.”

“Araaaa~”

“Stop.”

“Okay, okay fine. I’ll stop. I promise.”

“Promise what.”

“Not to annoy you.”

“Then why are you coming closer to me?”

He tugged her close, resting his chin atop her head. Her small frame easily fitting into his chest.

“Because i wanna be near you ‘kay?”

He kissed the corner of her neck, his hands gently squeezing her shoulders. She sighed.

He stared at her in the mirror as she continued to finish up the last of the face mask. His hands running up and down her arms repeatedly. the action oddly reassuring.

He kissed the top of her head, “Last night was fun right?” he muttered into her hair.

She blushed at the memory, “y-yeah.”

There were two things she found out last night. 1, Haibara knew how to throw a party. 2, never play hide and seek with Gojo. He’d pick the best hiding spot and no one would find you both, leaving you open to your demise at his hands.

Ara couldn’t walk after.

He smirked slightly, “What was your favorite part?”

She thought it over, “hmm probably when Geto shot all those bottles in a row. I didn’t think his aim was that good. oh! and that drink Shoko made, um, what’s it called-“

“Espresso martini.”

“Yes! That was soo good.”

his smirk widened as he nuzzled her head, “You drank a lot of green tea shots too.”

She nodded.

He kissed the crown of her head, “You look so good knocking shots back.”

She reddened, mumbling, “Shut up.”

He squeezed her shoulders once more, “Aren’t you gonna ask me my favorite part?”

She reddened more, “No.”

His arms slipped around her shoulders, squeezing her into him, “Pleaseeee~~~”

“Ah! toru! let go-“

He hugged her tighter.

“aHh! i can’t breathe. fine, fine!”

“Yayyy.” he loosened his hold on her and she smacked his arm.

“You promised not to annoy me.”

“Oopsies,” he grinned while staring at her ass as she bent down to pick up her fallen hair brush.

When she stood up, he placed his hands on her hips. pressing his groin right against her ass. She gasped, freezing the second she felt his erection.

He nipped at her ear, “My favorite part was holding your hips, just like this,” his fingers squeezed her hips, “and watching your ass bounce on my cock in that tiny little closet. Hearing your cute lil whimpers cuz you wanna keep quiet so bad. always so scared of getting caught-“

She faltered forward, her hands flat against the bathroom counter as he began to thrust his hard-on into her. as if his jeans and her towel weren’t in the way.

He nipped at her nape, leaving love bites along her soft skin. as if it wasn’t decorated enough.

“Your pussy gets wet so fast, kitten. everytime i fuck you your pussy makes such slutty sounds. mm-“

She gasped when the tip of his clothed cock rubbed against her bare pussy. It seemed he discovered that she wasn’t wearing anything under her towel. She saw his bright blue eyes go wide in the mirror's reflection before a devious smirk spread across his lips.

Just as she felt his hands tighten over her towel-a millisecond from ripping it off. She shoved him back.

“No!” she held her towel tightly to her chest, “Toru, please. we barely slept all night. I can’t—i can’t go another round.” she begged desperately.

“Aww~” he whined, before slipping his arms around her. Her hands on his chest weakly pushing him back. “Come on.”

“I’m gonna pass out.”

“You won’t.”

“Toru, seriously.” she looked up at him, “How can you even want to get freaky when i have this on my face.”

“You think a little face mask could stop my dick from getting hard?”

His eyes dropped to her lips, “If anything it jus makes me harder.”

Her eyes narrowed.

He pouted, “Next time you want a face mask just ask me ‘kay?”

She shoved him-successfully getting out of his hold this time, “Not happening.”

She began to clear up the bathroom counter, putting her skincare where it belonged. She glanced at him in the mirror’s reflection. she watched him tug at the belt of his pants, adjusting himself.

“C’monnn, mine probably has more natural benefits anyway.”

She looked at him incredulously, “Oh yeah? And what natural benefits would there be?”

He grinned, “my face mask is edible.”

She rolled her eyes, continuing to put stuff away, “Stop talking.”

He leant behind her, speaking in her ear, “Don’t act like you don’t like the taste. You always lick it up like your hungry-“

“Only because you feed it to me.” she spat.

She met his gaze in the reflection. fear immediately blooming in her gut the second she saw the fire in his eyes. 

Before he could move she darted around him, running straight out the bathroom. The second he moved to chase her, the bathroom door slammed shut in his face. He heard it lock from the outside.

“Ara!!” he whined, pushing at the door, “Ara!!”

“Ara.”

“Hm.” she barely looked up from her laptop. She was surprisingly focused for being outdoors. She wasn’t usually the type to study that well outside but something about the calm, breezy air of the estate’s gardens seemed to offer her enough solace to study.

He’d also been studying too but-of course-he finished whatever he had to do before her.

“Why’d you get a new phone?”

She froze, finally glancing up from her macbook to look at him. He was sitting on the fountain’s edge, with a loose black long sleeve and matching pants on.

He took off his sunglasses, letting the sunlight hit his eyes in a way that truly made them seem crystalline. He appeared apathetic but she knew he wouldn’t have asked if he wasn’t curious. She was just surprised he’d noticed that out of all of her purchases. She hadn’t even shown him the new phone yet. but of course, she wasn't naive enough to believe any of her purchases were unsupervised. whether he was there or not.

He raised a brow at her silence.

“Oh-um-well. I wanted to give it to my dad.”

“Oh!” he then paused before tilting his head, “And how do you plan on giving it to him?”

“I… i haven’t thought that far ahead yet.”

She’d just made the purchase yesterday.

“I can have Ijichi drop it off to his mailb-“

“No, no. It’s okay. I want to give it to him when I’m ready. or I’ll just keep it as a business phone.”

He grinned before singing, “i got two phones one for the plug and one for the load, i got two phones one for the bit—“ (a/n: he's singing 2 phones by kevin gates)

She shook her head, face-palming herself, “Please shut up.”

He threw his arms around her, squeezing her oh so tight before dropping his bags and hoisting her legs around his waist. He supported her with one arm around her ass before beaming up at her.

“We won the game! We won—“

She cupped his face, pressing a short kiss to his lips, “I’m proud of you baby.”

She saw a light flush crawl across his cheeks. His brilliant eyes searching her face, “Yeah?”

She felt his arm tighten around her bum. “Should we celebrate?” he asked, “Let’s travel somewhere, out of the countr-“

“No.”

“-try. Any country. You haven’t been out of America yet right? Let’s-“

“No, Toru, stop.”

He pouted, “C’monn. Don’t be lame. You don’t wanna travel with me?”

“I never said that.”

“Then why?”

“You want to celebrate your high school basketball game win by going out of the country?” she smacked his forehead with her palm, “We have school tomorrow idiot.”

“So? We’ll tell em it was an educational leave.”

“Educational leave?”

“Yeah..” his eyes dropped to her shapely tits in her school uniform, “for anatomy or something.”

She shoved his shoulder, “Yeah, I never want to travel with you.”

“What?!”

“Put me down.”

As she twisted in his hold, her tits inadvertently got in his face and he immediately opened his mouth to playfully bite one of them. She shoved his face back.

“Put me down!”

Geto sighed, shaking his head from behind them, “I hate third wheeling.”

Ara twisted in the sheets. Her eyelids squinting together as she tried to sleep but sleep wasn’t coming to her. It just wasn’t.

She threw the blanket off frustratedly. She adjusted her pillow before lying back against the headboard, half-sitting. She reached out to grab her phone from the nightstand only to frown when she realized the time.

1:07 am

She glanced at the empty spot in bed beside her. She was silent for a long moment before glancing back at her phone to see that she didn’t have any new text messages.

He should’ve been back by now.

She opened youtube on her phone. trying to distract herself.

1:43 am

She opened netflix on her phone. an episode of gossip girl might be fun.

2:35 am

She closed out of netflix, unable to ignore her frustration. She opened her phone app. Her thumb hovering over his contact name.

Suddenly the bedroom door opened, making her jolt.

Gojo entered the barely lit room, immediately shuffling out of his jacket and tossing it onto the couch before making his way towards the bed. She watched him shake his head, droplets of water spraying here and there as if he’d just showered.

He silently removed his phone and wallet from his pocket, quietly setting it down on the nightstand before his striking eyes met hers. His face brightened.

“Oh you're up?”

“Where were you.”

He blinked at the seriousness of her tone.

“Where were you?”

A slow grin spread across his lips, “You worried about me?”

She sat up, “I said, where were you?”

“I was at Geto’s, kitten. I told you I’d be there.”

“Why are you wet?”

He sat down on the bed, “I was in his pool for a bit.” 

He crawled towards her, she leaned back into the headboard.

“Then why do you smell like soap?”

“I showered after. I hate smelling like pool water.”

He leaned over to kiss her on the neck but she stopped him by pressing a hand to his shoulder.

She glared, “You smell like perfume.”

He blinked, “What?”

Her glare intensified, shoving him back.

“Wait-kitten,” he let out a small chuckle, “I don’t smell like perfume.”

“Don’t gaslight me.” she snapped.

His eyes widened at her tone but there was mischief in his gaze, “I’m not.”

“Smell your fucking shirt.”

He held up a corner of his shirt and smelt it. A smile broke out across his face, “Its Shoko’s. She hugged me before I left.”

Just as an insult nearly left her lips, she paused. He was right. She recognized that perfume–it was Shoko’s signature scent.

Her face reddened, “So you can hug girls but I can’t hug guys?”

A sly smirk lit his lips before he crawled on the bed towards her. He grabbed her leg, dragging her underneath him.

“Jealously looks so fucking sexy on you,” his eyes raked her up and down, making her feel devoured simply by that action. he pulled at the thin strap of her nightgown, “especially in this—“

She slapped his hand away, “don’t touch me.”

His hand slipped around her throat, “You think i fucked another girl, hm? Think I fucked her nice and hard and showered at her place?”

She felt her heartbeat fasten, her pulse throbbing in his firm grip. He bent lower above her. The tips of his damp hair scraping her forehead.

“You think another girl can take me like you do? Think another girl’s pussy can wrap around me so tight that I think my dick’s gonna get stuck inside? Think another pussy could squirt back to back like it’s begging to be creamed?”

She turned away, but his hand on her throat tightened. His thumb and index finger rested on her jaw and forced her to look up at him.

“No, Ara. No is the answer.”

He released her neck, sliding his hand down the front of her body. When she writhed, his other hand gripped the hair at the crown of her head in a fist. She gasped.

He cupped her pussy through the thin nightgown. She cried out. He gripped her cunt so tight, she didn’t understand how the entirety of his hand managed to cup it all.

“This is the only pussy i want.”

He yanked her nightgown up to her hips, easily slipping his hand into her underwear. His thumb found her clit and she jerked.

“Toru-!” she mewled.

He began to rub her clit in vigorous circles, “This is the only pussy that drives me insane. Only cunt i wanna ram into again n again, I can nut in you every single second of my life and it still wouldn’t be enough.”

She let out a strangled moan, her back arching as his pace slowed around her clit. He gently pressed the hard nub at a painstakingly slow pace, sending electric currents through her body.

She gasped with each press.

“Look at you, Ara, look at you.” his long white eyelashes fluttered as he looked down at her, a light pink flush across his cheeks.

Her eyes were squinted shut. a yummy pinkish red color on her cheeks. her nightgown was practically see through. She must’ve known because she wore a cloth bra-that barely contained her tits-underneath and matching underwear. He remembered picking that nightgown.

She looked so fucking delicious.

“You don’t even know how sweet your pussy tastes. It can make a sane man mad. It made me mad.”

His fingers gradually picked up the pace over her clit—knowing her weakness. knowing her pleasure.

Her legs trembled. She gripped his shoulders, back arching but he gripped her hair to keep her on the bed.

“torutorutoruTORUUUUUU!!!”

She squirt all over him, her juices flying into the air. wetting his shirt, his jeans, the sheets, everything.

Her body trembled, convulsing as she felt her inner thighs get sticky from her mess. Her pussy throbbing from her release. He always knew how to make her feel so fucking good.

Her eyes fluttered open, breathless, as she looked up at him. He wasn’t smiling but the gleam in his eyes was enough. It was enough to make her feel like nothing but a doll just made for him.

She jerked when she felt his fingers slide into her pussy, feeling up her gummy insides. Her fingernails dug into his shoulders, she was already so sensitive.

"Toru..” she gasped out.

He took his fingers out, watching her juice separate on his fingers as he spread them. He seemed lost, as if entranced.

“This… this makes me insane.”

He stuck both fingers in his mouth, cleanly licking her juices off them in one go before lowering himself to her pussy.

She tried to close her legs, “toru—wait!”

He buried his face between her legs, sucking her clit with the entirety of mouth—suctioning her clit perfectly with his tongue. sucking the resistance right outta her.

Her back arched against the bed as she cried out.

“nghhh!! toru-huuu-nghh” she was already so sensitive down there, god please, what is he doing?

He flicked at her clit with his tongue a few times before doing what he ultimately wanted. he lowered his face, burying his tongue into her wet cunt. She was a sopping wet mess down there. one that he couldn’t wait to fuck the sense into.

His tongue slid in and out of her, making her body jerk and tremble with her moans. She grabbed his hair, she couldn’t take it. something about his tongue always felt so fucking different—so fucking good.

She was throwing her head side to side, “toru! toru!! please, please!! enough!!”

He was licking her pussy like a madman. drinking her fucking juice straight from her cunt like he’d been thirsting for it all his life. She couldn’t deal with this. it was too much. 

Her legs shook as his tongue fucked into her, as if trying to taste all of her, all the way to inside of her soul.

She glanced down between her legs. at her hand in his soft white hair, at his eyes—glued to her pussy as if lost in a trance until suddenly, his eyes flickered upto her.

He lightly bit her clit.

She erupted. Her head flung back and her hands gripped his hair so tightly, refusing to let him go anywhere else. pleasure burst through her like a bomb had been ripped inside her body. she couldn’t breathe.

It didn’t help that he was licking up everything that poured out of her at lightspeed. as if he couldn’t let a drop go to waste. as if he had to drink it all to survive. she was already so sensitive now, this was too much—

she gathered as much strength as she could-despite feeling so weak-and managed to push his head back.

“stop, toru. stop.” she spoke in between gasps. she was dizzy from pleasure.

he finally sat up, in between her legs. the lower half of his face wet from her juices. he licked his lips before letting his tongue sweep around his mouth. he then wiped the lower half of his face with his hand, gathering her remaining wetness with it before licking it off his palm.

He didn’t break eye contact with her once. She shivered.

He grabbed the hem of his shirt, easily tossing it off before spreading her legs. She shivered once more, her legs looked so small compared to his large hands on her thighs. compared to his broad shoulders that he was lifting her legs on top of.

His hair was a mess from her fingers and that look in his eyes was anything but innocent. it was depraved.

“You still think i wanna cheat on you?” he asked, his voice cold.

She flinched when she felt his cock head touch her pussy lips.

“C-condom, toru,” she rasped out, her voice barely audible, “Condom.”

He hissed, as if annoyed that she remembered. or maybe at the fact that she was sane enough to.

He reached towards the nightstand, hastily grabbing a condom and tearing it open. He didn’t waste any time putting it on before spreading her legs once again.

He placed his cock atop her navel, looking in satisfaction as the tip of his cock went an inch past her belly button. He felt her shiver sensitively.

He glanced down at her flushed face, her trembling lips and that look in her eyes. that fear mixed with want. He knew she wanted it, no matter how much she denied it. She had to have. That face is begging for it.

He could feel her juices on his balls when he rested his cock on top of her like this. He couldn’t wait to see his cockhead bulge inside her tummy either.

He grabbed her throat, before slamming his cock into her in one brutal thrust. The weak sound that left her made his cock throb with the need to cum. Her eyes rolled into her head and he was grinning like a lunatic before losing all focus when her pussy squeezed the life out of him.

He glanced down at the little bulge in her tummy. groaning as he felt her delicious tiny walls restricting his cockhead. her walls curling around him as if it could suppress him from moving.

He touched the bulge at her tummy, he groaned as he felt his cock twitch. She suddenly grabbed his hand, “Toru, please—please-don’t be rough.”

He grabbed her wrist and pinned it to bed, fucking into her as mercilessly as he wanted. Fuck, her pussy felt so good. so hot. so fucking wet.

She screamed as he spoke into her cheek, “You wouldn’t even know if i fucked another girl would you? You don’t even have my location on, you never asked.”

“nghhh—ngh-ngh!! toru!”

His thrusts were hard, fast and deep.

“You don’t even check my phone as much as I check yours. You barely question me.”

His pace picked up. She screamed. She was going to break.

Her nails dug into his arm, “stop! stop! it hurts—you're gonna break me.”

He gritted his teeth, delivering another round of ruthless thrusts before finally slowing down. Her pulse fluttered rapidly in her throat. she could barely think.

“Maybe I should break you.” he whispered against her lips, he thrusted into her once. letting his cock hit her womb. She cried out.

“Maybe that’ll make you care about me.”

He ground the tip of his cock into her, making her wince.

Her neck arched in his hold, “toru…”

“ah,” his cock twitched as he stared down at her, “You sound so sweet.”

His hand tightened around her throat as he fucked another powerful thrust into her. She yelled, tears streaming down her cheeks. She could feel his cock throbbing inside her.

“Maybe I stayed out later on purpose..”

He pulled out slightly, “Maybe I showered so you could get the wrong idea..”

He pulled out a little more,  “Maybe I sprayed Shoko’s perfume to see if you even noticed.”

He slammed back into her, making her moan. She scratched at his arm while her other hand struggled against his grip on her wrist.

She shook her head back and forth as he began to deliver short fucks with most of his cock inside her. She felt his tip hit her deepest part inside, making her whimper and shake all over.

Her eyes fluttered opened, staring up at his focused expression, “Toru, please, please-“ her voice broke. she felt so full.

“Please what.” he snapped, his pace picking up, “You never get jealous, Ara, ever. Do you know how insane that makes me?”

His hips smacked into her with each thrust, “I get jealous when you talk to another man—when you stand near another man. Even when you look at another man—haah, I must be crazy.”

He was fucking into her ferociously now. Her body shaking from the pressure of his fucks, her body getting buried deeper and deeper into the bed.

She writhed under him, her free hand pulling at his hair, “Toru—please! slow-slow down—nghhhh!”

He let go of her throat to grab her tits. squeezing it hard in his one hand. letting his fingers sink into the entirety of her perky yet soft breast.

He nipped at her throat, “Maybe you know I won’t cheat cuz of how obsessed I am.”

He suddenly squeezed her tit hard making her wince and look down at him. His blue eyes were hazy with lust.

“But i can’t be the only one obsessed.”

She screamed as he fucked her-impossibly-harder. her insides sqlueching with her juices as her cunt tried to keep up with him but in the end she gave out. the last thing she felt was his warm cum spurt inside of her. loads and loads of it, as his cock twitched within her depths.

She sighed at the feeling of her hair being stroked before her eyes opened in a panic.

She was met with Satoru’s big ocean blue eyes staring back at her. He was lying right beside her, facing her while she lay chest-down on the bed.

“How do you feel?”

She moved to shift her legs but winced.

“Achey.”

He smiled slightly, repeating her words, “Achey?”

She nodded.

“You want water?”

She nodded.

He sat up easily, reaching over to grab the glass from the nightstand and offering it to her.

She tried to sit up, only to immediately crumple back at the action. Her face pinched up in pain.

His eyes widened before setting the glass down, “S’okay baby, I got you.”

He propped his pillow up on the headboard and slowly pulled her up against him so that they were half sitting, half lying down.

He then handed her the glass. He watched her attempt to hold it but her hands shook—shook so badly she could barely hold the glass.

He slipped the glass out of her fingers. She sighed weakly, leaning into his shoulder.

“I’m-i’m thirsty.” she whispered.

“I know kitten.” he replied gently before taking a rather large sip of water himself.

He then held her chin and brought her lips to him and let her drink. She drank from him. It was absurd but his hand on her chin made her less shaky. Their lips on each others made her more stable.

He gave her a peck when she finished.

“More?” he asked.

She nodded.

They did it once more, his mouth holding the water for her to drink. Maybe she was in too much of a daze from their sex to even question it but god, water never tasted better.

But it didn’t end there.

Once the water was gone from his mouth it should’ve ended there but he couldn’t seem to let go of her lips. and neither could she. his hand on her chin keeping her lips to his as his tongue sweeped her mouth. a low groan leaving him.

She broke the kiss, breathless. Her hand coming to rest on his chest as she pushed him away slightly.

“Toru.”

His arm slipped around her back, squeezing her hip as if to keep her close. He kissed her along her jaw.

“Just to keep the record straight, I didn’t stay out late on purpose.” he kissed her shoulder, “I did swim and shower and hug Shoko goodbye. I shoulda texted that I was gonna be out later but I didn't expect to, honest.”

She shifted beside him, silently letting him kiss her until he grabbed her chin and made her face him.

“Okay?” he asked.

“Yeah.” she sighed.

He scanned her before smiling faintly, “I love seeing you worry about me though.”

He reached over to squeeze one of her tits, making her shiver, “It makes me so hard.”

When she felt her nipple harden under his palm she glanced down at herself. Only to freeze when she saw she was naked under the sheets.

She looked over at him in a panic, “Why am I naked?”

He spoke from the crook of her neck, his hand still fondling her tit, “cuz we’re not done yet.”

He began to nip at her neck, she knew they’d be marks but that was the least of her worries. Her gaze dropped down to the tent in the blanket, right where his groin would be.

He suddenly pinched her nipple, making a low weak moan leave her lips.

Ara wandered into one of the living rooms. This one had the best lighting in her opinion, perfect for reading. just as she walked towards the couch she froze.

“Oh!” it was maid Marin, standing on the other side of the room with a vacuum beside her.

“I’m sorry to startle you, Miss.” Marin bowed her head slightly.

Ara waved her hand, “Oh no, you're good!”

“I’ll head on to another room-“

“No please, don’t worry about it.” Just as she turned around to bolt somewhere else, Marin quickly spoke.

“Please, miss, continue as you were. I just finished.”

Ara slowly turned around, belatedly noticing that the floor looked spotless. she’d thought marin was just about to get started.

“oh, um, thank you.”

Ara walked towards the couch, hesitantly getting comfortable on it before flipping through her book trying to find where she’d left off. She’d lost her bookmark for it.

Surprisingly a light laugh left marin, “You don’t have to try make my life easier you know, that’s my job.”

Ara immediately glanced up, confused.

Marin was looking at her rather fondly, “You leave your room the cleanest I’ve ever seen it. Do you put away his clothes as well?”

Ara blinked, belatedly realizing that… she did. but it wasn’t on purpose. It was because Gojo was an actual mess. He was terribly comfortable with tossing his clothes anywhere and misplacing random things after using it—which was the worst because she liked to keep things in a rather meticulous order at times. things had to be in a certain place.

Which was why his hastily tossed aside clothes in random corners of the room would not do. neither would his half-open drawers. or misplaced colognes or-god, i could really go on.

But she supposed the main reason for her minute attention to the room was because it felt ungrateful-it felt ungrateful to leave such a lavish space messy.

“Miss Natsuna?”

She snapped out of her thoughts, “Yes-um-please call me Ara.”

The maid shook her head gently, “That won’t do.”

Ara eyed her as unobtrusively as she could. This was nicest she’d ever seen Marin act with her. The older woman was usually reserved. She usually saw her in passing, as she did with the other maids or workers of the estate. But Marin was the one she interacted with the most and even that was seldom.

“I’d like you to know that I’m grateful. I’m grateful that you're here.”

Ara’s eyes widened.

“Sir gojo was barely home before you moved here but now he is here all the time. He seems so much brighter as well, more lively. He was always energetic since he was a boy but this is different. He’s so happy with you.”

She could tell the woman meant her words. Whether it be because of the care in her voice or the genuineness of her words-all she knew was that this maid really did care about Gojo.

“It’s all his Mother ever wanted for him, for him to be happy.”

Marin offered her a small smile-the first Ara had ever seen.

“I’m happy he met you.” she paused, “Please take good care of him.”

Ara stabbed her sausage with a fork.

“So… Gojo’s birthday is coming up.”

Ara’s eyes flickered upto Millie across from her. “Is it?”

“Yeah!” Millie responded indignantly, “You didn’t know?”

“Of course I know.” she responded, annoyance clear in her tone.

Idiot Haibara wouldn’t shut up about it. He was unnecessarily hype that it would be her first time attending Gojo’s bday bash. Apparently something ‘wild’ happens every year. When she asked him to give an example, she was told to ‘wait and see’ with the most goofiest smile on his face.

As if she couldn’t just ask Gojo herself.

Unfortunately she knew Haibara was right. In the previous years she remembered her fellow peers raving about his birthday parties in the following school days. Whether it be live singer or a yacht party, his bday party was the social event for these airheads.

She supposed she was one of the airheads now herself, since she was dating the biggest one.

“Well what are you gonna give him for his birthday?”

“That’s the thing, I don’t know. What do you get someone who has everything?” Ara took a frustrated bite out of her sausage.

Millie placed her chin on her hand, “Hmm that’s true.” she squinted as if mulling over a few things but then dismissing them, “Damn, he really does have everything.”

“Thanks for the help.” Ara responded sarcastically before taking another bite from her sausage.

Millie eyed the sausage jealously. She’d devoured hers in two seconds. She loved how the school chef made them—suddenly her eyes widened.

“Wait.”

“What?” Ara asked.

Millie smirked, her eyes glinting with excitement, “He technically doesn’t have everything..”

Ara stepped out of the car feeling like a doll. Even though it was Gojo’s big day he’d rented out an entire spa and massage sesh for her and Millie cuz he could tell she was getting anxious.

Maybe because everyone was hyping Gojo’s birthday party up or maybe because it was the fact so many people were going to be there, her introvert self couldn't take it.

but after everything. hair. nails. makeup. outfit. all put together—& maybe some hits from Millie’s j. She felt more calm-ish.

It was saturday, the night of Gojo’s party even though his actual birthday was tomorrow. It was taking place at the estate. He’d considered throwing it at one of his family’s beach houses but Shoko declined the idea due to the fact that Geto apparently did that last year so they had to keep it different.

Apparently Gojo didn’t host events often at the estate-mainly for security/privacy reasons. His uncle also hated it but-according to him-his Uncle's opinion didn’t really matter.

The last time he’d thrown a birthday bash here was freshman year so he counted it as a full circle moment since they were seniors now. so they had to go all out.

Ijichi closed the car door behind her and handed her her mini bag. “Mis-“ he quickly shook his head, “Ara.”

She raised a brow, “Yes?”

“Y-you look beautiful.”

She smiled shyly, “Thank you, Ijichi.”

Suddenly Millie tapped her shoulder, “C’mon c’mon lets go.”

Music could already be heard from the estate even though it was rather early. She supposed it was never too early to start. The sun was bound to set soon.

Ara glanced back at Millie, who was smiling wide as she took in the view of the estate. The place that had homed Ara for the past few months.

“The fact that you live here… insane.”

Ara shook her head, “I’m nervous.”

Millie rubbed her back, “Don’t worry. don’t worry. No one’s here yet. We have time to chill. besides you know how to party so don’t be a party pooper now.” she teased.

Ara rolled her eyes, “Thanks.”

His friends were in the living room—chilling and smoking. It seemed everyone had gotten the memo to dress nice aka hot.

Shoko passed her cigarette to Toji the second she saw Ara. She ran upto her.

“Hey hey!”

Ara hugged her back.

“When did you get here?” Millie asked.

“Oh, we got here like twenty minutes ago. Where were you guys?”

“Still getting ready.” Ara answered.

“Well, it was worth it because ya’ll look-“ she bit her lower lip, making the dumbest face she’d ever seen.

Millie laughed while Ara shook her head, “Please stop.”

Shoko grinned, “Did you guys have anything to drink yet?”

Millie snapped her fingers, “Nope. Imma need that.”

Shoko gestured towards the table in the center of the living room, “Knock yourself out.”

Millie zipped straight where she pointed. Shoko then turned to her, “What about you?”

Ara was silent for a moment, examining the room. Toji sat on the couch, his feet crossed over another and propped on the coffee table before him. Haibara was on his right, blabbing about something passionately that Toji clearly could give two shits about.

Then there was Nanami sitting on the sofa across from them. He’d gotten a hair cut and-if Ara’s vision wasn’t impaired-he seemed to have filled out a bit. It suited him.

 “Where’s Gojo?”

“Oh him and Geto are upstairs, doing god knows what.” Shoko shook her head.

“Do you know how many people are coming?” she asked.

Shoko blinked, “Um.. no. Let’s just say this entire place is gonna be packed though.” she examined Ara with a raised brow, “What’s with you?”

“Nothing nothing. I’m just.. nervous.”

“What?! Why?”

Ara ran a hand though her perfectly done mermaid waves, “I don’t know.” she sighed.

“There’s got to be something.”

Ara straightened her posture, “I don’t know why.. I just feel this pressure in my-“ she gestured towards her stomach, “I can’t explain it.”

“Your anxious?”

“Yeah.” she sighed.

“You know, I think I know a cure.”

“Let me guess, a drink?”

“Damn,” Shoko grinned, “I'm predictable as hell aren’t I.”

Ara chuckled.

“Okay but listen, this drink is actually called ‘the cure’ and I invented it. All the girls love it, it’s fruity and yummy and it’ll prolly calm your nerves. Let me make it for you.”

“Don’t make it too strong please.”

“Of course, I got you.”

“Uno!” Ara spoke a millisecond earlier than Toji.

His sexy green eyes narrowed but she didn’t miss the subtle curl of humor on his lips, “Ah-fuck you.”

He drew four cards from the pile.

She felt a slight nudge to her left and glanced down to see Nanami outstretching his fist towards her in silent commemoration. She smiled, fist bumping him back.

Nanami had already won the round so now her and Toji were fighting for 2nd place.

“Alright, your turn.” Toji grumbled.

She glanced down at the yellow card with the number 9 at the top of the pile. She bit her cheek to hide her smile before kissing her card and setting it down atop the pile.

A green nine was her last card.

Toji sucked his teeth before tossing his pile of cards on the table.

“This a damn scam.”

“You owe her 10k.” Nanami added monotonously.

He leaned forward in his seat adamantly, “The hell’s she gonna do with 10k? Gojo literally gets her Birkins every other week.”

“Are you jealous of her gifts?” Nanami retorted, “Should she ask Gojo to get you one next?”

“eh?” Toji’s ears turned red, “Hell no.”

Ara held back her laugh while arranging the cards on the table in a neat pile, “A deals a deal-“

Suddenly a hand clasped her shoulder and she looked up to see Millie with a bright smile on her face. She handed her a glass.

Ara hesitantly took it, looking at the pinky orange liquid within it, “What’s this?”

Millie patted her shoulder, “A gift from Dr. Shoko aka the cure.”

oh right. She’d forgotten about that.

Millie glanced over at Nanami, “By the way, she’s looking for you.”

“Where is she?” he asked.

“In the kitchen.”

“Which one?”

Millie’s eyes nearly popped out of her body, “There’s multiple?”

“Yes.” Ara, Nanami and Toji all replied at the same time.

Millie sucked her teeth, “Jesus. Well, it’s the one with the blue marble countertops.”

“East wing.” Nanami muttered under his breath before getting up and leaving.

Millie quickly took his seat and held out her glass of the same drink.

“Cheers?” she asked Ara.

Ara could already tell by the glassy look in Millie’s eyes that the girl had clearly got a head start with the drinks.

Ara sucked in deep breath, “We don’t need a chaser?”

Toji snorted, “For Shoko’s cure? Hell no. Shits sweet as hell.”

Millie rolled her eyes, “We get it, tough guy.”

He grinned at her.

Millie ignored him, facing Ara, “Nope you barely taste the alc in this, for real.” she held her glass up, “C’mon, c’mon.”

Ara held out her glass, a satisfying ‘clink!’ resounding from their glasses once they touched. They then linked arms and tilted their heads back, downing the drink in one go.

They set the glasses down in a fit of giggles.

Ara lightly dabbed at the corner of her lip with her fingertips, making sure none of it spilled or messed up her lipstick.

“That just tastes like juice.” Ara noted.

“Told ya.” Toji replied.

If Ara had been nervous before, she barely remembered what that felt like now. What had she even been worried about? people? ha. She barely noticed when the house began to gradually fill up.

The music was all she could focus on. It felt like it was connected to her veins. pumping through her body with each soundwave that blasted from the speakers.

She was dancing, moving her hips in ways she didn’t even know was possible. Millie wouldn’t stop laughing and it seems her laugh was too contagious cuz Ara couldn’t stop laughing either.

But suddenly, the song changed and she saw Millie’s face turn serious. She grabbed Ara’s hand, leading her somewhere.

Millie climbed atop the pool table and pulled her up. She started yelling the lyrics, Ara handed her a pool stick as if it was a mic.

The surrounding people turned around, staring up at them and the next thing she knew people started to sing along, some people even started jumping. A few girls climbed on top of the pool table to join them as well.

Millie tossed the pool stick somewhere and started to dance with her. Ara only knew the chorus of the song so the second it started to play they both started pointing at each other and singing. (a/n: song is okay - by JT)

“I’m pretty than a motherfucker, hoes be lookin’ okay.”

“She think that she fuckin’ with me, is this bitch okay?”

“He said he ain’t fuckin’ round, i look at him like, okay?”

“I used to be down bad but now a bitch okay.”

Millie nearly tripped and Ara grabbed her shoulders, catching her just in time. They both gasped, staring at each other with wide eyes.

They both burst out laughing. In the midst of their laughter, they didn’t notice people cheering and making way for a certain individual.

No one other than the birthday boy himself, Gojo.

He stood a little distance away from the pool table, dapping a few people up as he passed before crossing his arms when he spotted her. A wide grin on his lips.

His vibrant eyes looked her up and down, before chewing at his lower lip and sighing.

She was wearing his favorite color on her. red—blood red. It looked so fucking good. Her dress hugged her waist so tight, those thin straps were barely holding in her yummy tits. He swore her skin glittered under the lights-and her hair, it looked so silky and wavy, swaying with each roll of her hips. She had to be a siren.

The thought of running his hands through those locks and wrapping it around his fist before spreading her glowy little legs. He wondered if her back was just as sparkly—haah. I need to calm down.

To say he was pent up wouldn’t cover it. He’d felt so utterly betrayed when she suggested that they hold off on sex before his birthday, just so he could cherish it more.

She’d suggested that he hold off for a week. Impossible. They broke that a day in. She should know he always cherished whenever they fucked. He never ran out of stamina with her and she knew it. He felt like this break was more for her than anything.

In the end he ended up only managing to hold out for two days, today being day two. He didn’t like it—not having her. Discipline wasn’t in his nature when it came to her. but-god-with the way she looked right now… mmm she better not expect to sleep tonight.

He felt an elbow jab his ribs and remembered himself. He glanced over at Geto.

“Get your shit together.”

Gojo grinned, uncrossing his arms to run a hand over his mouth, “I’m trying.”

Geto tilted his head, “Are you?”

“Gimme a sec.”

He deftly made his way towards her, standing in front of the pool table, right where she was. How distracted are you kitten? She barely looked away from Millie as they danced, enjoying the song to its fullest.

She looked so good, singing the words-word for word-fuck he was too impatient to wait. He wanted her eyes on him. She hadn’t even greeted him when she came back to the estate after getting dolled up all day.

His hand slid up her calf, immediately drawing her attention. She glanced down, her eyes instantly brightening.

The spark that ran up his spine was incomparable.

He stared up at her with a boyish grin, his hand sliding up along the back of her thigh and she leaned into him, placing her hand on his shoulder. He easily held her waist and placed her down in front of him.

He hummed, pressing her body to his by sliding his hands down her waist to her ass, squeezing her cheeks hard.

A small, sexy little yelp left her lips and he exhaled silently. She stared up at him, her hands on his chest, “Toru..” he heard the reproach in her tone until her gaze dropped to his lips.

She shook her head but he quickly cupped one side of her face. “Your lipstick..”

She smiled softly. Right. She’d gotten mad at him about that before. She tilted her head up, fully pressing her chest against his, “It’s waterproof.”

His lips crashed to hers, nearly swallowing her lips whole. The music silencing their sloppy, desperate sounds. Her hands grasped at his forearms and his hands squeezed her pretty waist. He could taste the alc on her tongue, it tasted fruity, sweet—

Her nails dug into his skin, pushing herself back.

“Toru..” she whined, resting her head on his chest.

He ran a hand down her hair before pressing his lips to the crown of her head. God, she’s so damn cute.

“Everytime I look at you I feel so lucky.” he muttered into her hair.

His hands found her hips, squeezing lightly as he looked down at her, “Do you know how good you look right now?”

She looked up at him, “I do.” she pressed her stomach to his groin to prove her point. His eyes widened. The action made his cock throb—painfully so. He’d been hard as a rock the second his eyes landed on her.

He grinned, “You wanna do something about it?”

She tilted her head, giving him a look.

“Fine, fine~” he pressed his forehead to hers, running a hand down her hair only to grasp her nape to drag her close. His lips at her ear, “You can’t drink too much.”

He felt her hands on his chest waver, “I won’t.”

“You promise?”

She slipped her hands around his neck, pulling back to nudge her nose against his, “I promise.”

He introduced her to a ton of people. She couldn’t possibly remember them all-but to her shock, Gojo was friends with so many nepobabies, celebrities and LA influencers, it was incredulous. She couldn’t believe they’ve never talked about it before.

She never thought in her life she would ever meet these people. and the fact that some of their classmates were talking to these celebrities as if they were friends… as if they’ve met them before. She couldn’t believe it.

Like genuinely in what world did Gojo know David Beckham’s son, Romeo? or Monica Bellucci’s daughter?

She’d done her best to remain as calm as possible whenever Gojo introduced her to these people. He loved saying it—“this my girlfriend, Ara.”

She was almost sick of hearing it so many times but she knew he ate it up. The little smile he gave her whenever he said it, he loved claiming her like this.

His arm was on her back, his hand resting low on her hip as he spoke to an actual prince-Prince Nikolai of Denmark to be exact. Then randomly, Vinnie Hacker joined their conversation. She felt like she was watching the mogging olympics. She couldn’t even focus on the conversation, merely laying her head on Gojo as she stared up at them talking.

Suddenly she felt a hand on her arm, prying her away from Gojo. She glanced over to see Shoko, “Come here.”

Gojo’s hand loosened on her hip, letting Shoko take her as he continued to converse. Ara slipped away, letting Shoko lead her to the corner of the room.

“How are you feeling?”

Ara slow blinked, “Um… I feel good.” The realization made a small smile spread across her lips.

“Really?” Shoko inquired, before running a hand through her hair, “Thank god.”

She tilted her head, “Why?”

“Because Millie came up to me and I don’t know if she was joking or not but she said she put ecstasy in your drink.”

Ara froze.

Shoko went on, “She said she only put a little-to ease your nerves or something but, still. I was hoping you knew… did she tell you?”

Ara answered with a simple, “Nope.”

“Oh god. Are you sure you're okay?”

She gave her a thumbs up.

Shoko raked a hand through her short hair again, “Are you sure?”

She grabbed Shoko’s arms, “I promise i’m okay, stop worryingg.”

Shoko stared at her smile for a second before nodding, “Alright, alright.”

Shoko reached out to fix one of Ara’s necklaces, “Isn’t your friend.. a little sus? Why would she not tell you that.”

Ara shrugged, high out of her mind, “Dunno, maybe she told me and I forgot.”

That was a lie. Ara would remember something like that.

Shoko shook her head, smiling slightly, “You’re a mess.”

Suddenly Mina showed up in all her blonde haired glory. Ara swore those big loose waves belonged in a Victoria Secret show. Mina grabbed ahold of both of their wrists.

She wriggled her brows, “Lets dance.”

Ara was on the rooftop, dancing with girls she didn’t even know. Shoko knew them though.

It threw her off when some of the girls recognized her as Gojo’s girlfriend. She wondered if it had to do with Gojo’s socials. She didn’t really use social media much herself but she’d advised him against posting her too much. She wondered if he’d listened.

The breeze on the rooftop was perfect along with the sunset. The multicolored sky looked like something straight out of a landscape painting.

She walked away from the dancing girls, telling them she was going to get a drink but in reality she needed a break. She wandered to the farthest lounging chair and laid down.

She lay on her side, one leg over the other as she stared at the sky, letting the music and breeze waft over her.

She felt surreal. She didn’t want to ever stop feeling like this.

Suddenly she heard a familiar voice nearby, “Ara?”

She glanced over to see Geto hovering nearby. He bent down slightly, “Are you okay?”

She smiled a bit, “I’m great.”

“Yeah?” he sat on the seat beside her, sighing.

“Mhm, what about you?”

He scratched his brow with his thumb, “Fine, a bit… tired. Maybe I’m not drunk enough.”

She laughed lightly, “Maybe.”

“You drink enough?”

She nodded.

He set his drink down to light a cigarette. He offered her one but she shook her head. She watched him take a puff. The smokey air billowing upwards was the most interesting thing to watch.

She laid down more comfortably, adjusting her arm underneath her head. She stared at him. His black hair looked nice down. It ended a little past his shoulders. She was so used to seeing it up in a man bun that she didn’t realize how long his hair actually was.

She followed his gaze. He was looking at a girl, near their age. She swore she might’ve seen that girl on pinterest or something. Regardless, the girl was gorgeous.

“You should talk to her.” Ara suggested lightly.

His eyebrows raised slightly, “Oh no-no, she’s my friend. I’ve known her since i was little.”

She watched him lean back in his seat, raising his glass to his lips to take a sip. He gazed over the crowd uninterestedly.

“Why don’t you talk to any girls?”

He nearly spit his drink, “What?”

“I just..” her brows furrowed slightly, “I just realized I’ve never seen you talk to a girl at a party. like talk talk.”

He held her gaze for a moment, expression shocked before he hunched over in his seat, looking away.

“I’m not really good at talking to girls.”

She could see the tips of his ears reddening as he admitted this.

“No way.” she gasped out.

His eyes immediately flickered to her, “What?”

“So Gojo wasn’t lying? You’re a virgin?”

She watched color swiftly bloom along his cheeks, “He told you that?”

"I honestly don’t think that’s bad. I don’t see the big deal about losing your v card by a certain age or whatever. It’s just unnecessary pressure. I was a virgin-“ she cut herself off, suddenly thinking over her words.

“Um-“ she felt her face go warm, “-until-uh-“

He couldn’t seem to make eye contact, “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

She sat up, crossing one leg over the other. She adjusted the end of her mini dress.

“Anyway,” she muttered, “I don’t see the big deal. I just hope you lose it with someone you love.”

Her eyes widened as she processed her words. She felt Geto’s eyes boring into her.

“So you love him?”

She glanced over at him, unable to read his blank expression.

He offered her a small smile, “He’s been waiting to hear you say it, y’know.”

“He hasn’t said it.”

"He said he did.”

She blinked, belatedly remembering that he has. In fact, he’s said it multiple times-but he never pressured her to say it back.

Faint confusion etched her features, “He wants to hear me say it?”

“Who wouldn’t.”

Fireworks sparked across the sky. the air was foggy with smoke. the scent of alcohol, sweat and expensive colognes and perfumes everywhere.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY GOJO SATORU!!!!” Haibara yelled atop his lungs into the mic after his spiel-that she could barely concentrate on-and countdown.

Gojo was laughing beside her, she playfully shoved him away. He shot her the handsomest smile as he stumbled backwards. He then faced the balcony, sharing his smile to the people below.

He easily climbed atop the balcony railing, standing on the ledge with just his two feet.

She felt like she was watching him in slow motion when he slipped off his shirt. His built upper body visible to everyone. His protruding biceps, compact abs. The pool water somehow reflecting across his body, creating lines of light blue waves along his skin.

He shook his head, moving his floppy white hair out of his eyes before he blew a kiss to his fans by the pool below. He tugged at the belt of his jeans, grinning down as the party goers hooted and hollered. chanting his name.

She stared at him, looking at the shit eating grin on his face. She hated how attractive the expression was.

He tossed his Jean Paul Gaultier sunglasses off before jumping off the railing.

She watched in astonishment as he managed to curl into a ball and roll in the air a couple times before landing smack center in the pool. She swore she felt water droplets from where she stood on the rooftop.

She was gaping until his head emerged from the pool. He shook his hair out like a dog, laughing in his boisterous airy way. Several people jumped into the pool, his friends swarmed him.

She shook her head, glancing away when she felt something poke her arm. it was Arden, one of Shoko’s friends. When Ara glanced down she realized what had been poking her was the straw of a multi-colored fruity looking drink.

“It’s yours.” Arden offered.

“I think I’m good—“

“Drink.”

Ara snatched it out of her hand and chugged it down.

She laughed, shoving Millie back, “What the hell is with you?!”

Millie countered, “You feel better though, don’t you? don’t you?”

She paused before answering, “.. I do.”

They both made eye contact before breaking down in a fit of giggles.

She burst into one of the guest rooms to find a group of boys and girls hovered over in a loose circle. Her gaze then dropped to the tray between them and the lines of white powder on it.

“Ooops, my bad.”

She quickly slammed the door shut. Her hand still on the handle as she kept her back to the door, standing in complete shock.

“What is it?”

Toji stood in front of her.

He gestured with a tilt of his chin towards the door behind her, “What’s in there?”

“You like coke?”

“Maybe.”

She let go of the door handle, “It’s all yours.”

Just as she walked around him, he grasped her wrist.

She raised a brow as she looked up at him.

“You took a line?” an undercurrent of shock and curiosity in his voice.

“Pft no.”

His eyes narrowed, a subtle grin on his lips, “Liar.”

She tried to tug her wrist away, “I didn’t.”

He let her wrist go, “You definitely took somethin’ ” he leaned in, “Your pupils are big.”

She touched her cheek, “They are?” she tried to recall reading about physical symptoms for MDMA use but couldn’t remember anything.

“Mhm.” he leaned back, “What’d you take?”

“Ecstasy… Millie said she crushed up a bit and put it in my drink. She said it would help me relax and it did.. but..”

“But?”

She met his gaze, “She told me she only put a little.”

The corner of his lip curled ever so slightly, “I hope she did, for your sake.”

“Am I going to black out?”

He looked her up and down, “You don’t look like it. How do you feel?”

“I feel fine.. I feel like everything feels better.”

He smirked, “I bet.”

“Do you think i’m gonna be able to stay up all night?”

Confusion flickered across his features, “Why…” a millisecond later realization made his thin brows instantly shoot up, a sly grin on his lips.

“Never mind.” she quickly spat out.

“You’re a good girlfriend.”

“Shut up.”

Ara stood in the kitchen, scarfing down a slice of cake. It was delicious. The frosting was the best texture on the entire planet. holy grail.

The cake was a cute faded pastel blue color, the inside was made of three layers-moist chocolate cake, fluffy chocolate mousse and chocolate ganache. She wasn’t even that much of chocolate person but this tasted heavenly.

“dish is amazhing.” Some girl beside her spoke through her chewing. Ara had never met this girl before.

“It- yes.” she agreed.

The floor pulsed with the bass of each word, each beat drop. Her heart pulsed along with it.

She was jumping so much her legs were sore. She danced with her hands on Millie’s shoulders. Millie? yes, Millie.

Millie was dancing too. Her curls had loosened and appeared more mermaid-like than tightly curled. She looked like a doll.

Millie grabbed her hands and spun around with her. There were so many cheers, so many voices. Everyone was so loud.

People danced in front of them, behind them. They somehow got tugged into a circle, hooting and hollering as girls and boys alike took the center space to dance. Some people were recording. Ara swore she’d seen some of the faces around her on tik tok or youtube.

Ara’s mouth dropped open when she watched a few girls slide into the center of the circle, showing off their moves in their skimpy outfits. Goddamn, they know how to dance.

She’d never seen so many people having so much fun at once. It almost felt like one of those antidepressant ads in real life–except it was real life.

Millie touched her cheek, “dance! dance! dance!” her voice echoed in her ears.

Was music always this beautiful?

She felt hands on her waist and opened her eyes. It was dark, the sporadic neon flashes the only source of light but she could recognize the man in front of her anywhere.

His skin was poreless, smooth. Her hands touched his familiar abs.

His hand was in her hair, his other hand on her ass—keeping her groin against his. He was hard.

The neon lights flashed over his eyes and she swore they glittered—brighter than uncut diamonds.

His lips were on her neck, his lips were on her lips. his hand tugged her nape closer. His cock throbbed through his jeans, against the thin material of her dress.

She couldn’t stop his lips from moving over her own. She felt like she was gonna disappear in him and-oh she wanted to. yes she wanted to.

Her body needed something and he knew exactly what. She felt it in his hold, in the pressure of his lips against hers. She couldn’t think.

He pulled her legs up around his waist and she knew the party was behind them.

a/n: fic continued in chapter 5 [ part 4 ] !!!!!

[wardenparker]

Vampire Waltz - ch 3

Max Phillips x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

A mysterious inheritance, sprawling mansion, eccentric roommates, friendly bat, and coven of New England witches are the newest chapter of your life after being unceremoniously dumped and kicked out by your boyfriend. For Max, the biggest change in his life is you, and what exactly he's going to do about the fact that he is stuck living with you as long as his sire continues to punish him for that incident at his last office...

Rating: Mature, but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 12k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: deceased parents, cursing, food, blood and blood drinking, depictions and references to abusive relationships.* Wicca, anxiety (making friends takes spoons), self-doubt, lots of secrets being kept, Bat Max comes with his own warning. Summary: Making new friends isn't always easy, but when those new friends are the local coven sometimes it's a lot easier than you think! Notes:  The portrayal of Wiccan characters in this story is based on my own experience and the experiences of people I know personally. It's very safe to say that almost all practitioners have their own special way of doing things and each coven is a little different, so we're just going with what we know. 🧡🧹🍁 A little insight into Dolly's mansion: this chapter image is the fireplace in the morning room at the real life Chateau-sur-Mer!

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2

Waking up to no alarm, no banging or crashing around the house, and no feeling of terror at being late for work is a very strange sort of miracle. The sun is up and the clock on the mantle reads eight o’clock, but the house is silent. That in and of itself is odd, but what is stranger is that you don’t remember getting into bed last night. Popping up from the plush pillows, you find yourself covered with your own comforter and still in your clothes from yesterday, but your book is sitting neatly on the chaise and the window is shut. Did you just have the weirdest ass dream in the world about petting a bat and reading to it? You must have. Right? There is no way that actually happened…

There’s a soft knock on the door. Hearing you stir slightly has Renee waiting for you to give permission to enter before she turns the handle and smiles as she walks in. “Good morning, Dolly.” She murmurs softly. “Would you like a breakfast tray here or would you prefer to eat in the dining room?” Learning your preferences is key and since Mrs. Taylor is handling the blood from the blood bank in the kitchen right now, she doesn’t want you wandering in.

“Morning Renee.” A little groggy from the confusion of how you woke up, you dig the palm of your hand into your eye and smother a yawn. “I’ll come downstairs, you don’t have to bring a tray all the way up.” You’re more than capable of going downstairs, of course. And if your roommates are downstairs you don’t want to seem rude or standoffish.

“It’s no problem.” Renee protests. “Max and Eddie have already eaten, having early morning schedules.”

Somehow you didn’t figure Max for an early riser, but you shrug off that detail and offer her a smile. “I’ll still come down,” you decide. “Maybe a trip into town would be good today? Just to check things out and get to know the area.” It’s Mabon, but you don’t know if anyone else in the house is pagan or Wiccan or would be offended by having witchy holidays brought up, so you don’t say anything. Instead you’ll just quietly get a few fall-themed things for your room and not bother anyone else with it.

“It is the beginning of the autumn equinox, so perhaps it would be good for you to tour around.” Renee nods. “Mrs. Taylor and I will be setting the house up and Mr. Taylor will be decorating.”

“How did you—?” It’s like she was reading your mind, and you tilt your head slightly in curiosity. “I don’t suppose Newport has an autumn festival or a farmer’s market this weekend?” It’s too much to ask that there might be a community of witches nearby, but your parents’ Wiccan upbringing has seeped into your bones and happily stuck there.

The younger housekeeper nods with a small chuckle. “Of course there is. We are only two hours from Salem.” She explains. “This is a magical time of year where traditions outweigh conservatism.”

“Then I think I’ll head into town after breakfast.” The idea of fresh air and maybe hearing someone wish others a Blessed Mabon again gives you a comfort you didn’t know you needed.

“If you need any directions or would like to be driven around, just let me know.” Renee tells you before she hums. “Oh, would you like to drive the Volvo or the Corvette?” She asks. “Mr. Taylor was in the process of giving the Volvo a tune up, but he can have it available for you whenever you need.”

“I don’t want to bother or interrupt anyone.” You insist right away, sitting up and moving to the edge of your bed. “I guess…I’ll drive the Corvette? It’s…that is okay, right?”

“Of course.” She gives you a smile, having already concluded that you will be asking permission for things rather than just doing. Perhaps in time it will change, but she will just roll with it for now.

“Okay.” Adjusting to the idea that these things are yours to do with as you please is going to take a long time, but you nod. “I’ll be down in a few minutes, then.”

“Of course.” She repeats, nodding respectfully and turning to slip out of the room. She will let Mr. Taylor know to pull the corvette out of the carriage house and tell Mrs. Taylor that you are ready for breakfast.

******

It seems like Newport has two parts. There is the ritzy, expensive, even touristy part of town — and then there is the old New England side of things. The locals are a little crotchety but ultimately nice enough, and one even pointed out his favourite coffeeshop to you when you finally ambled your way into the farmer’s market nearby. There are farm stands and crafts people, handmade goods and stalls from small businesses selling everything from soap and tea to jewelry and housewares. It’s an autumn festival minus the feast, but with all the food for sale it won’t be hard to make a feast of your own.

“Miss?” The vendor for the Say Cheese! booth, a gourmet, small batch cheese producer, tries to catch your attention. “Would you like to try some of our caramelized onion and thyme goat cheese?” She asks, offering a tray of the creamy spread that has been smeared on crackers. “Or we have honey and fig if onions aren’t you’re thing.”

You almost want to ask if it’s okay to try both, but that seems greedy until you turn and find a girl about your age with a shiny ’She/Her’ pronoun pin affixed to her apron alongside a name tag that reads ‘Allison’ in curving, cheery lettering. A foam witch’s hat is stuck to the corner and covered in purple glitter, making it extra chipper. “That sounds wonderful,” you say instead, nodding and stepping closer to the booth.

“It is.” She insists. “Although the pumpkin spiced brie can be a little…targeted.” She laughs and shrugs. “But it’s actually pretty good.”

“I’m a big fan of pumpkin spice.” The little witch hat makes you smile and you shrug. “Don’t they say that clove, cinnamon, and ginger keep evil away in folklore? That’s most of what pumpkin spice is.”

“To be honest?” She grins conspiratorially. “Most in my coven are thrilled that it’s become so popular. Protection while not even being aware.”

“You have a—?” You nearly freeze when she says out so freely - so openly - and blow out a happy breath. Happy is an odd feeling. “Blessed Mabon.”

“Blessed Mabon.” Her smile deepens and her eyes light up with delight. “May your harvest be bountiful and your light bright.”

“May the equinox bring you abundance and joy.” That was always your mother’s favourite way to return a Mabon blessing, and you had adopted it over the years. Not that you had had anyone to celebrate with in years, but that’s different. “I—I’m so glad to meet you.” Despite Renee assuring you that there are plenty of pagans, Wiccans, and witches in Newport, you hadn’t just expected to run into one first thing.

“I don’t know if I’ve seen you here before.” Allison comments as she starts to load up a small taster plate with an assortment of cheeses for you to try. “Are you just visiting or new to the area?”

“I just moved.” Though you’re wary of giving more detail than that, this woman is beaming and friendly. “Just trying to get out and see the town a little this morning and you’re the first person I’ve actually met.”

“Then that means we are connected.” Allison beams, reaching behind her neck and removes the smoky quartz crystal that is hanging on a delicate chain. “Here. A welcoming gift for you. It had been blessed during Beltane.”

She does not mean to be anything but kind and perhaps generous, but the gesture of a gift almost has you in tears as she presses the crystal into you stunned, frozen palm. It’s such a small gesture to her, no doubt, but any kind of gift nearly has you in tears that you have to wave off quickly. “Everyone has been so kind since I got here,” you explain quickly. Everyone but Max, you think just as quickly, but she doesn’t need to know your saga. Especially when your other hand has the sample plate in it now and you can’t even recall her putting it there. “It’s overwhelming. In a good way.”

“Our community can be very friendly.” She chatters happily. “Perhaps a bit odd, but that always comes with the supernatural, right?”

"Usually." You smile a little, eventually closing your fingers around the crystal and nodding gratefully. "Thank you...Allison." Her nametag is just out there shining in the sun and you gesture toward it before you introduce yourself.

“You are most welcomed.” She hands you the plate with a slight flourish. “Please let me know what you like out of these cheeses.” She tells you. “And, if you are interested, we have the harvest bonfire tonight.”

"Really?" Again your head shoots up in surprise, and the question is muffled around a bite of the pumpkin spice brie that makes you groan immediately in delight.

“Absolutely.” She winks at you and grins at the absolute bliss on your face. “It’s the first night of the spooky season. We have an eclectic group that comes together. Maybe you would like to meet some spiritual sisters?”

"My roommates were talking about decorating the house." It's still odd to think of having roommates - of living with anyone besides Derek - but remembering the little bat from your dream does make you smile. "I haven't had a coven since college. It...would be really nice to have a community again."

“We are welcoming to all.” She promises and pulls out a little card that has the information on it. “We start a little before sundown, socialize and relax.” She tells you. “Please come. It’s always fun.”

"Thank you." Your quiet murmur is full of gratitude, and moments later when the samples are gone from the little plate, you are buying all three flavours of cheese and whatever else Allison recommends from the stand she is working at. With the ability to actually spend money comes the desire to make sure that it goes to people who will actually benefit directly from your purchases - it's going to be a lot of farmers markets for you in the future and not so much time spent in big chain grocery stores.

Once the transaction is completed, Allison smiles at you. “I hope to see you later?” She asks questioningly.

"I think so." There is always a chance you'll get too anxious and freak yourself out a bit, but you nod. You want to have the emotional energy to make new friends tonight. Maybe you'll cut your outing short earlier in the day so that you don't run out of steam. It's been a long time since you had something you actually wanted to do like this. "Is--can I bring anything?" Always taught never to show up empty handed, you'll surely end up bringing something no matter what the answer is.

“An opened mind and heart.” Allison shakes her head. “Our guests are never required to bring anything more. It will be our pleasure to host you this evening.”

"I'll see you tonight." You will make it work. And besides -- the trip out this morning will have to be quick. You've got precious cheese to get back home.

******

“I hope that she is okay.” Mrs. Taylor glances out the window with a frown on her face. “She seems like such a timid thing. So surprising about that, considering.”

“We don’t know what she’s been through,” Renee reminds the older woman, methodically working her way through folding the last of your laundry. There was a lot of it that seemed barely touched — fun things like dresses and logo tees or more fitted things — and looser, more office work clothing and jeans that are surely baggy on you, that look far more worn. “A lot’s happened in her life. Or at least…a lot could have happened.”

“It makes me want to protect her.” Mrs. Taylor admits quietly. She’s never had children of her own, but that doesn’t mean that she doesn’t have a motherly instinct. “No wonder he wanted her brought here.”

“He should have been able to protect her before now.” Renee tuts, carefully folding a sweater depicting a black cat perched like they’re in a windowsill. “But that’s none of our business, of course.”

“There were reasons.” She’s not sure what those reasons are, but there’s very little he does that doesn’t have reasoning behind it.

“I’m sure.” She isn’t, not really, but Renee has never been the one to make the decisions. She prefers it that way. “At least we can do our part in taking care of her now.”

“Of course we can. It’s why he had her brought here.” She’s incredibly proud of her role in taking care of Cookie and there is a lot of trust that was placed in her hands to do that. Renee hasn’t been with the family quite as long, so she doesn’t understand that quite yet. “Perhaps we can put together a lovely tea time when she gets back.”

“I’ll be surprised if she doesn’t come back with a few things from the farmer’s market.” The thought of you settling in makes the younger woman smile and she sets the stacks of your folded clothes into the dresser beside her. “We can make a tray with some of what she finds?” As if on cue, the front door opens and closes, the sound reverberating through the house despite being gentle. “Hopefully that’s her,” Renee hums, quickly depositing the last of your clean things in the bureau and heading for the stairs.

Nodding, Mrs. Taylor quickly follows the younger housekeeper out of the bedroom to see who has come inside. Mr. Taylor is finishing up with the car out in the carriage house but he would come in the back door.

“Good afternoon, ma’am.” Renee is the first to spot you, looking a little more relaxed than when you left this morning and caring many more bags. “Please, allow me.”

“Oh, it’s okay, Renee.” The fresh air has you feeling better, after having spent hours at the farmer’s market and debating whether or not to take a walk around the nearest bakery or florist shop, only to end up overwhelmed by the change in the people in those places. They were tourists - obviously wealthy and snobbish - and not nearly as friendly as the people you’d met at the market. “Only…” You separate out the bag that has your precious cheeses in it. “I wonder if you wouldn’t mind putting these in the refrigerator for me? The farmer’s market had amazing things.”

“Absolutely.” She beams, happy that you had found things that you wanted at the market. “Mrs. Taylor was just suggesting putting together a tea tray for you. Would you like anything from here on it?” She asks, wanting you to have some input.

“There is a spiced plum tea and some goat cheese with fig that—” As soon as the thought begins, you frown and shake your head, becoming tight and self-conscious again. “You don’t have to trouble yourselves. I can take care of it. I—don’t want to give either of you more work than you already have.”

"Of course." She nods, but she has no intention of listening to you. There is plum tea and fig goat cheese that you have fallen in love with, so that will be added to the tray along with the tea sandwiches that Mrs. Taylor has no doubt already started making in the kitchen.

“I’ll just go and put these things upstairs first.” Crystals, candles, some waxed flowers, and cute little needlepointed pillow with a bat in a pile of leaves have all come home with you and they’re going to help your space feel a little more personal instantly.

"I'll bring the tray up in just a moment," Renee turns. "Unless you would like to have tea in the morning room?" The light is bright and airy in there and it's a lovely space for a tea service.

“You don’t have to—” Her face makes it abundantly clear that there will be a tea tray and the only conversation she’s willing to entertain about it is the location in which you will be receiving it. “The morning room would…it sounds very nice,” you admit after a breath. “Thank you, Renee.”

"There was a book on your bedside table this morning." She mentions quietly. "Would you like me to bring it down so you can read, or is that an evening book?"

“That’s an old favorite.” The hundred-year-old copy of Jane Eyre has even seeped its way into your dreams, but you enjoyed it thoroughly. “I’ll pick something else from the shelves for day reading.” It’s such a luxury, and it’s hard to process that that is your life now. Luxury. Doing whatever you want. No one is going to stop you.

"Of course." This time the nod is accompanied by a small smile before the assistant housekeeper rushes off to make sure that your tea tray includes the small little treats you had brought back from your first trip to the town.

The small bags with goodies in them are easily deposited in your room, where you notice that your childhood throw blanket with ballet slippers prominently featured has been folded and left at the bottom of your chaise, and your bed has been made again. It’s not bad, it’s just…odd. Something your great-aunt was so used to and maybe occasionally even took for granted…that you will have to remind yourself is perfectly reasonable. Refocusing yourself, you put down your bags and take the little throw pillow out, deciding to bring it down to the morning room window seat with you. It will be a sweet little thing to have with you, and you can bring it upstairs again afterward so that you don’t get in anyone’s way.

******

"She has been to the farmer's market and would like to use the plum tea and the fig goat cheese." Renee hums happily as she sweeps into the kitchen with the bag you had given her. As she had expected, the little three tiered display is already layered with little sandwiches on the bottom. She's sure some are cucumber and others are the curry chicken salad she had been experimenting with.

“I’m sure she insisted she would do it herself, and that we shouldn’t trouble ourselves?” Mrs. Taylor raises one eyebrow but continues her work on the tea server, adding orange flavored Madeline cakes to the top tier.

"You know she did." Renee tuts and rolls her eyes, although she's not bad mouthing you. "I will start to brew the tea."

“Did it seem she enjoyed herself at least?” The two women are very coordinated in the kitchen and move gracefully around each other as Renee starts the kettle and Mrs. Taylor puts the other cheeses away. There are some lovely crackers in the pantry that she can include to go with the cheese you particularly wanted to enjoy today.

"There was light in her eyes that was not there yesterday." Renee confirms as she brings out the silver teapot to set on the tray. Ms. Brown's favorite tea set is already laid out and tomorrow, Renee will suggest rotating the sets until they are certain of which ones that you prefer. She pulls out the canister with the sugar cubes to put into the small dish. "I would say that she enjoyed herself very much."

“We can finish decorating for the autumn this afternoon.” Mrs. Taylor decides, working quickly to make sure the tea service is just so. “Mr. Taylor brought the rest of the decorations down from the attic for us and Mr. Finchley suggested adding some garlands to the outer gates.”

“That sounds good.” Renee agrees. “I think that it will be good to have a sense of ‘life’ back in the mansion.”

“As it were.” Mrs. Taylor chuckles as she arranges the seeded crackers on the tea stand. “With so many undead about, it seems an ironic choice.”

“I honestly wonder if there doesn’t need to be a human in the house.” Renee muses. “When it was just us, there was something missing. I’m sure that I’m not the only one who felt it.”

After a moment, the younger woman hums again. “There does seem to be an extra element of activity with a human around.” For Renee, it is treasured. She was turned hundreds of years ago but she is still pulled toward humanity for so many reasons other than their blood. “Do you think…perhaps Eddie has taken a shine to her already?”

“He has.” Mrs. Taylor looks up from arranging the crackers with just the perfect amount of cheese with a hopeful smile. “I’m not sure if it’s brotherly or romantic yet, but our dear Eddie so needs another tender heart around.”

“Wonderful.” Renee sighs. “It would most wonderful for everyone to be happy.” But after a moment more of consideration, she chews on her lip and turns her head back to the older vampire. “Is Max trying to irritate Dolly?” She asks warily.

“He might be.” And it bothers the housekeeper to no end, knowing how timid you are. “He doesn’t know…” she shakes her head, carefully cutting coins of the goat cheese you found today. “If he did, he would leave well enough alone.”

“Or he would be trying to smooze her.” Renee snorts. “Which might be even worse than irritating her. If he touches her, he might stake him and not bring him back again.”

“We would be getting a surprise visit immediately if Max decided to do that.” Considering the way their boss had behaved when suitors arrived for the other young lady of the house so long ago.

Renee winces and shakes her head. “He will stay away if he knows what’s good for him.” She huffs with a smirk, knowing Max Phillips is nothing if not egotistical enough to try to play some game with you.

“But he doesn’t,” Mrs. Taylor reminds Renee as she puts the finishing touches on the food our your tea tray. “That’s how he ended up here in the first place.”

“I remember.” Renee snorts. “I had to take care of him when he was first brought back and his new skin was raw.”

“I still don’t understand why he felt strongly enough to bring Max back.” It was a mystery that Mrs. Taylor had not quite parceled out yet, but she certainly spent more time thinking about it than she let on.

“Of all the vampires he could have brought back.” Renee hums, shaking her head. “Max Phillips is the one he chose.”

“He will have had his reason.” Although what it is, Mrs. Taylor has yet to figure out. Instead she sets silverware and a cloth napkin on the service cart with the tiered server and dishes. The only thing missing now is the tea, and that should be ready momentarily.

As soon as the teapot starts to whistle, Renee pulls it off the heat and flips open the lid to the serving teapot, pouring the hot water in to infuse with the tea leaves you had brought home. Closing the lid with a satisfied smile. “There. Now I will deliver this to Dolly.”

“Will you let her know that dinner can be served wherever she likes tonight?” Mrs. Taylor wipes her hands and begins to pick up the counter right away. “Eddie and Max will both be out. I didn’t ask why, but it will be good for her to be able to relax.”

“Yes ma’am.” Renee wheels the cart out of the kitchen towards the elevator.

******

Upstairs, you have unearthed a first edition copy of Shirley Jackson's We Have Always Lived in the Castle and settled back in the window seat with your little pillow and the muted afternoon sun. Every window in the house seems to be coated with something that tints the light the barest shade of yellow and you wonder vaguely if it was some Victorian architecture fad. Or if architecture even has things like fads.

Wheeling the cart into the ‘secret’ room, Renee finds you already settled into the window seat and smiles. “Tea is served.” She announces, happy to see that you do not startle when she comes in. Yesterday you looked like you would jump out of your skin, but something about the new day seems to have settled you.

"You really didn't have to." Although you had a feeling that she might. Mrs. Taylor is the type to do things properly or not at all, and Renee is her dutiful second in command. "Thank you, of course." Grateful as you are, you put your book aside as Renee sets the cart beside you by the window.

“My pleasure.” She nods respectfully and steps back. “Mrs. Taylor and I are going to finish decorating this afternoon, but we will be available anytime you need us.”

"Thank you," you murmur again, catching a whiff of the spiced tea that you brought home and rolling over in your mind whether you want to venture out of the house tonight. Allison was so friendly, but you're nervous. "Renee...can I ask you something?"

“Anything.” Her job is to take care of the house and you are now a part of that. Anything you need, any questions you have, she will help as much as she can.

"I was invited to an event tonight." As silly as you feel about asking a virtual stranger for her opinion, Renee has been so kind to you at every turn. So you pull the little card that Allison gave you out of your pocket and hand it to the young woman. "A local coven is having a Mabon bonfire. I only..." you frown slightly, feeling small as you shrink against the wall. "I don't know if I ought to go? Or if that would be imposing too much."

There was a time that vampires and witches were enemies. At that time, she would have encouraged you to keep your distance. That had changed over the millennia and they had joined forces to keep the secrets of the world away from the humans, except for rare exceptions. “Allison?” She smiles as she looks down a the card. “You should go. I was supposed to tell you that dinner will be served wherever you wish tonight, but I think you will be out during the dinner hour.”

"I haven't had a coven in so long." When Renee hands the card back to you, it ends up cradled in your hands like precious cargo. "And she was so terribly nice."

“I know her vaguely. She’s extremely nice.” She agrees. “She would come to visit Ms. Brown sometimes.”

"Was...Ms. Brown...?" Somehow the image of this ninety-one-year-old woman that you had in your head with the first phone call from the lawyer's office has already changed twice over in the very little time you've been here, but you still hadn't expected this find out she was Wiccan.

“A witch?” Her brow arches up and she purses her lips in amusement that you cannot quite come out with the questions you need answered. “Oh yes. Probably the greatest witch in Newport, perhaps the East Coast. She oversaw the coven for years until….” She shakes her head. “Until her heart was no longer in it. Then she allowed others to take over.”

"Do you mind if I ask you what changed?" You could understand if age or infirmity had kept her from being as active in her coven, but this is not what it sounds like Renee is saying.

“She….lost someone close to her.” Renee knows she is not permitted to tell you the truth, that would have to come from him, at his discretion. However, acknowledging some of the reasoning behind Cookie’s change of heart cannot be too bad. “Very dear to her.”

“I’m very sorry to hear that.” It feels like intruding to ask more, so you only nod your understanding and leave the topic alone for now. “Well…thank you, Renee. Again. I think I will go out tonight after all.” It feels heavier now, somehow. More important. And there is a thought in the back of your mind that getting to know this relative you had never met by accepting the invitation of someone she knew is the best possible way to spend your night.

She bites her lip and then nods, as if making up her mind, which she has. “If the tea can hold for a few minutes, perhaps you will allow me to show you something?”

“Of course.” There’s nothing wrong with letting a teapot steep, and you set your book and pillow aside immediately.

“Follow me.” She asks, turning to leave the morning room through the bookcase door.

Through the hidden door in the wall and through to the library, you’re surprised when Renee crosses the room toward the marble hall and pulls open an even more hidden door in the window nook. This one has no visible knob but is activated with the pull of a false book exactly like a spooky story or horror film. A room no bigger than a closet houses an elaborate spiral staircase that seems to crawl up toward the sky and Renee beckons for you to follow. Up and up and up, the ornately carved wooden staircase just keeps going until you’re sure there can’t possibly be any house left, because you’ve counted to four floors and you were certain the place only had three.

When the stairs run out, they deliver you into the most incredible open room covered in overlapping rugs and thick, heavy, blue velvet curtains. The ceiling is painted like the night sky — blue-black with silver and gold stars and an immense chandelier that hangs high in the middle of the room. Renee has moved to the wall quickly, pressing a button that turns on the electric lights in the chandelier and lights up the room. The shape of the sloping gold and purple-fabric covered walls and ceiling tell you that you’re in the top of the East tower on the left of the house, but the point is driven home when you can see out the tinted window to the front yard. In front of the window, though, is a sizable altar all decorated in candles and a myriad of different size bowls of many materials. To the left is a bronze statue of a goddess and to the right in a black marble statue of a god - the two images presiding over the rest of the altar like the dutiful deities they are.

“This was her ‘spell room’ as Cookie liked to call it.” Renee tells you fondly. Even though they had believed that the room might never be used again, it is meticulously dusted. A labor of love to the woman who had used it before you. Now, Renee was proud to believe that the tradition of a witch in Chateau-sur-Mer would continue.

“I guess it really does run in the family…” Carefully stepping up to the altar, you hum with satisfaction to see that the goddess statue depicts Persephone and the god is Hades — favorite deities of yours, as well. “My parents were witches, too. Our altar at home had statues of Artemis and Apollo. My mother loved the idea of the balance between moon and sun.”

Renee nods, keeping her face neutral. “Another good set of deities.” She agrees.

“This is amazing…” There are elements of old traditions and new all over the room. A hand sewn broom leans against a case of carefully crafted poppets. An enormous collector cabinet dominates the far wall with labels for every herb and potion ingredient you can think of, and a circular scrying table stands ready in the middle of the room. Gothic style chairs surround it, suggesting it was used for much more than just scrying. “I never would have guessed,” you admit, looking back at Renee in wonder. “Not in a thousand years.”

“That is a good thing.” She tells you with a grin. “It’s supposed to be a secret.”

“Then it will stay a secret.” You make a motion out zipping up your lips, locking them, and throwing away the key. “Is it…a secret from other people in the house?” Noticing other doors off of the room, you curiously poke your head over to see if any of the doors are open. Most are open archways, but one door is firmly shut.

“No. The - they know of it.” It was never a secret here what Cookie was, not when this was her refuge.

“Okay.” Nodding, you look back at the door and then to Renee. “Is there a key for this door?” The handle hadn’t budged when you tried it, and fortunately you hadn’t seen the maid flinch, either.

“There is a key.” She bites her lip and wonders if you want it bad enough to go in there.

“One I would assume Mrs. Taylor has?” The blinding fear of curiosity in your chest is a little nerve wracking, and you try to push it aside even though it has your blood beating in your ears. Forcing yourself to smile and step away from the door that has all of your focus narrowed on it, you swallow and feel the tingles of nerves all through your veins. “Tea will be cold if we stay up here much longer,” you decide, steadily trying to ignore the door that seems to call your name personally.

“Of course, Dolly.” She tilts her head, wondering if she had imagined the shiver that rolls through your body. She focuses on your heartbeat and finds it slightly faster than normal, which is already ticking at a nervous beat.

When you all but flee back downstairs, Renee is at your heels but leaves you to go through to the morning room alone. Or— you thought you would be alone. But when you walk in, Max is sitting in the window seat wrinkling his nose at your tea tray.

Max looks up from the tray that includes nothing bloody and the clove from the tea is nearly overwhelming. Grinning, he thinks about how you had stroked a bat who was sitting in your lap last night. “Hey Dolly.” He shoves his hands in his pockets and rocks on his heels. “Looks like you’ve settled right in. Cozy little tea?”

“Renee— a-and Mrs. Taylor…they—” There is judgement in his voice. An accusation. And instantly you are petrified of what he might think of you. “I didn’t ask for it,” you insist, hands shoved into your pockets instantly as your posture shrinks.

Your reaction is completely off kilter for his good-natured teasing. “Of course you didn’t.” He tuts. “You wouldn’t ask boo from a ghost.”

"I just went to the farmer's market and they were nice enough to make a tray for me." With your eyes trained on the rug, you shrug your shoulders and let your weight shift from one foot to the other awkwardly.

“What smells?” He asks you, moving over to the teapot. “It’s like a batch of potpourri. Very…spicy.”

“Clove and cinnamon. And I think some ginger, too.” The three ingredients remind you of what you and Allison had observed about pumpkin spice and you almost manage a smile. “It’s Plum Spice black tea.”

"It's....pungent." He comments, picking it up and lifting the lid, curling his nose up at the strong scent. Still, he pours the purplish tea into the dainty flowered cup sitting on the small plate. He picks it up and shrugs, "Whadya take in this? Flowers?'

“Flowers can be delicious,” you protest softly, but motion to the tray again. “Sugar or honey, or whatever sweetener you like. I guess you could do cream if you wanted but fruit tea never seemed like a good choice for cream to me.”

Max frowns slightly and adds one sugar cube to the tea and stirs it, before adding a drizzle of honey. Tilting his head and biting his lip as if he were performing delicate surgery before handing it to you.

“I—um…thank you…” You had fully expected him to drink it himself, and when you take the cup from him it’s like you’ve forgotten what to do with it for a second. “Would you, um …want to sit with me?“ Even the most awkward of moments deserve kindness, don’t they?

“Sure.” Max shoots you a grin and sets himself down on the other side of the window seat and uses a small pair of tongs to poke around the three tiered tray. Not even a rare roast beef finger sandwich. He huffs slightly and picks up a cream cake. “So…how did you like the town?” He asks with a smirk to hide the grimace as he takes a bite of the cake. It’s no blood pudding, that’s for sure.

“It’s beautiful.” The turning leaves and picturesque streets that you saw while driving around today were lovely. Perfect for a gorgeous fall day. “And bigger than I thought it would be. I’m pretty sure I saw a cruise ship in the harbor.”

“It’s okay.” Max shrugs as he takes another bite of the cake. “Very slow kind of life here. Am I right?”

“That’s not always bad.” You would take slow and steady over the chaos of uncertainty any day of the week, but Max seems like the kind of person who likes to stay busy.

“Maybe.” It still irks him that Evan got the best of him. Him and that little doormat girlfriend of his. Zara Beth was more to his taste, she had teeth. “Must have been a good night though? Didn’t hear any screams of terror.”

“No, no nightmares or anything like that.” In fact, you’d slept remarkably well considering it was your first night in a new place. The anxiety of uncertainty hadn’t been a problem. And you’d had lovely dreams to boot. “Do you mind if I ask you how long you’ve lived here?”

“Four years.” That admission comes with a distinct grumble.

“And you don’t like it?” You guess, from the way he seems to begrudge that little piece of information.

“It’s not bad.” He huffs. “But it’s more that I’m a --" he stops, shrugging slightly since he has no real reason to grumble besides being told to stay put.

“Maybe you just haven’t found the thing that makes it enjoyable yet.” Everything has a silver lining, you have told yourself many times. Right now your silver lining is that your tea is perfect. Who knew sugar and honey was the way to go?

Max chuckles, knowing that despite not knowing you well, a comment about orgies leaving him unfulfilled wouldn’t go over well. “Maybe. Could always get a pet.”

“That would be sweet.” All of the snacks that were put out for you amount to a sizable lunch, and it isn’t until you start eating Mrs. Taylor’s amazing food that you realize how hungry you were. “What sort of pet?”

“A fox.” Max hums, smirking slightly. “Or a bat. That would be cool.”

“Bats are sweet.” Or, at least, the one you had a dream about last night was adorable. “They get a bad reputation.”

His brow lifts and he settles back against the fluffy, embroidered pillows. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.” You agree, taking another sip of your tea. “They’re cute. I mean cats and dogs and stuff are cute too, obviously.”

“A pet bat, huh?” Max hums, wondering if you will admit to your experience last night. “Dogs don’t like me.” It’s a natural reaction, smelling that they aren’t the top of the food chain when he’s around. “Cats just…don’t listen.” He can admire that, but as a moody creature himself, he doesn’t want that reflected in his pet.

“So you’d go for a bat instead?” It actually makes you smile, which might be the first time that you’ve ever smiled at him. It’s half from him and half remembering your extremely vivid dream. “I’ve always wondered if they like to be pet,” you admit after a second.

“They do.” Max can attest to that, but he gives you a shrug. “Watched some bat thing on NatGeo.” He explains. “Couldn’t sleep.”

“Good to know.” It somehow makes the dream you had sweeter, and you smile a little wider at the knowledge. The mood between you and Max is calmer now, as if you’ve found a little common ground, as you’re silent for a moment before asking another innocuous question. “Did you have a good morning? Renee said you and Eddie left the house early.”

“Early bird gets the worm.” Max quotes with a grin. “I had some business meetings that I wanted to get out of the way before the sunset tonight.” He hums. “Too many witches out and about.”

The thought that you don’t know any places that do business meetings on Saturdays is walked away instantly by dread. “Do you…” Appetite suddenly gone, you set your teacup on its saucer. “Do you not like witches?” You can’t figure out why you should even care because you don’t much like Max, but somehow it still stings.

“Nah. They’re okay.” He watches you closely. “But I’d rather be socializing tonight than working.” He winks at you and grins.

“I mean it might not be an out-and-out party like Beltane can be, but I would hardly call celebrating Mabon work.” Just like flipping a switch in your mind, the defense that rolls off your tongue is completely automatic. Having spent many years feeling like you either shouldn’t speak about your faith at all or having to defend it when you do, you can’t help yourself — but you clamp your mouth shut immediately when you realize Max is smirking even more widely now.

“Well, well, well.” Despite your fiery outburst, which has a sensation similar to butterflies fluttering in Max’s stomach, he’s nothing short of amused. “Blessed Mabon, Dolly.” He chortles. “The witch of Newport is here to claim her throne.”

“I don’t know anything about a throne…” That definitely should have been mentioned by now if it was literal but you just can’t imagine it would be at all. “But…thank you. A blessed Mabon to you, as well.”

“So do you have plans for the night?” He waggles his brows. “We could dance naked around a fire in the garden.” He suggests playfully.

“I was invited to a bonfire.” You tell him, though it still feels odd to have been invited anywhere at all. “I met someone from the local coven while I was out today.”

“Ah.” He picks up a cracker and small medallion of cheese. “I see. You met…was it Allison or Tracy today?” He asks curiously. The witches are friendly to him, but he’s never taken it beyond flirting.

“Allison.” It takes a second to remember that Renee said that Allison had been around the house when Ms. Brown was alive, so that accounts easily for how Max knows her. “She was working at the Farmer’s Market.”

“So you’re going to the pot luck?” He asks, trying the cheese and finding it to be slightly better than the cake.

“I was planning on it.” Despite knowing he doesn’t technically have a say in what you do, you’re prepared for him to tell you no. To tell you to stay home or give you a reason not to go and meet the rest of the coven. Years upon years of experience have conditioned you to expect a ‘no’ and now you don’t even realize you’re bracing for it.

Max purses his lips and looks out the window. “A good night for it.” He agrees. “Take a sweater, Dolly.” The night can get a little cool after the sun goes down with the wind coming off the water. “It can get brisk after dark and you call if you have too much of the festive punch.” He teases with a smirk.

"I don't drink." The words are quiet but firm, and you pick up a cracker topped with a perfectly round slice of goat cheese. "But I'll bring a sweater." The obediance is automatic, but you dont know if he's giving orders on purpose. Or if he's just trying to give a kind suggestion and your mind has been actively rewired to perceive it as an order.

“So why don’t you drink?” Max asks, keeping his tone conversational for once instead of slightly mocking. You’re still young, and it’s not a religious thing.

"Ex-boyfriend was an alcoholic." It's only just starting to feel real, the 'ex' part, but you shrug. "I know not everyone who drinks overdoes it, but I just...don't like it anymore. Not when I've seen what it can do to someone." Someone I love is the end of that thought, but surely alcohol has fucked up a whole lot of lives that you personally had nothing to do with.

Max’s eyes narrow, his hands - idly playing with the edge of a pillow braid curls into a tight fist - entire body tensing as he sense that there is a lot more to that statement. “Really?” For all his cocksure bravado, Max had manners instilled into him by his own father. And suddenly the actions that seemed bashful when he first met you are making more sense. “Did he drink himself to death?”

"No." When you shake your head, your eyes are back down on the rug immediately. "He drank himself into debt, into irresponsibility, and into anger." Violence would be a more accurate word, but you're not ready to talk about that yet. Not at all. "It--it's lucky that I had this house to come to. That's all."

It’s a good thing that you are looking away from him at the moment, because Max’s eyes flash a deep and unnatural yellow before shifting back into their normal brown as he forces himself to relax. You aren’t his to protect and he doesn’t know why he wants to protect you. He doesn’t know you. “Then it’s good Cookie gave it to you.” He tells you simply, truthfully. He clears his throat and stands up, brushing his tweed pants off and adjusting the cufflinks that are too formal for a Saturday afternoon. “Well….I have some calls to make.” He tells you awkwardly. “I’ll leave you to your tea. Enjoy your Mabon, Dolly.”

"Thank you, Max." It has been unexpected to have so many people around you be supportive about your faith, but what is on your mind more is now that you worry you've said too much. You can't tell if he's affected by your reason for not drinking or simply finds you dull or even prim for the decision, but at least he didn't tease you. That counts for a lot.

Max stares at you for a moment before he nods, turning around and walking out of the main door of the morning room, the sound of his dress shoes quickly fading inside the house.

******

It takes an hour standing in front of the armoire in your room before you finally pull out a dress and tights that are great fall colors. Grabbing a sweater is almost an afterthought, but you did make a promise. And promises are meant to be kept, so you shrug a cardigan on over your shoulders and pull on a pair of boots before going into your dressing room. Renee has set up your few pieces of jewelry and grand total of two purses here along with all of the makeup that Derek used to insist that you wear to look ‘normal’. Ultimately you leave the house in minimal makeup with the sweater you promised you would wear, and the warming container full of stew that Mrs. Taylor had brought upstairs to send with you to the potluck. Apparently it had been a favourite when Ms. Brown used to host the coven at Chateau-sur-Mer.

“While Dolly is out, you can have your ‘wine’.” Mrs. Taylor is almost snickering as she sets a goblet of deep red blood in front of Max when he comes strolling into the kitchen. “I keep telling you that one of those tumbler things with a straw would be less conspicuous, but you like to be dramatic.”

“He calls it a bottle,” Eddie rolls his eyes in amusement as he accepts his favourite coffee mug from Mrs. Taylor, also full of blood. “But I think that’s pretty appropriate since he’s being a big baby about it.”

“It’s Gothically classy.” Max huffs, picking up the wine glass and taking a large gulp of the warmed blood. “Besides, someone would end up putting ice in it, ruining it.”

“No one would touch your drink, dear.” Mrs. Taylor assures him without doubt. “But enjoy your Gothically classy wine glass. I don’t expect Dolly will be home very early.”

“No, she’s going to the coven’s thing.” Max shoots the old housekeeper a smirk. “Did you make her the same thing that Cookie would take?”

“Of course I did.” Mrs. Taylor answers, huffing slightly like she’s offended he would even ask. Her homemade sausage and lentil stew was a favourite of the coven’s and she would never have sent anything else. “So you two will have blood sausage with dinner tomorrow.”

“Thank fuck.” Max rolls his eyes happily as he licks his blood red lips. “That will be delicious.”

“Just because a few things will change around here doesn’t mean we aren’t going to take care of you.” Even if that was the kind of women she and Renee were, Mrs. Taylor knows that he wouldn’t stand for it.

“Has anyone heard from the big guy?” Max asks as he looks around the room. “Figured he’d be here today of all days.”

“He was detained on business.” Mrs. Taylor reports, lying very smoothly through her teeth. The one man that everyone in this house reports to had arrived when the rest of the household was otherwise distracted. “I’m sure that when he decides when to reveal himself, we will all be made very aware.”

If Max thought he was dramatic, he had nothing on the man who had sired him. Rolling his eyes, he shrugs. It’s not like the man had come back to magically release him from this house arrest. “I just assumed he would be back here. Since his soulmate loved Mabon.”

“She certainly did.” Wiping her hands on a dishcloth, Mrs. Taylor turns around to face the two men. “And it seems as though not so much will have changed in this house.”

“Talk about weird.” Max snorts. “Wonder why it’s this witch.”

“I’m sure Ms. Brown had her reasons.” Mrs. Taylor’s own penchant for the enigmatic is as well documented as any other member of the family, and Eddie chuckles when the housekeeper simply smiles and moves on to the next chore.

“Alright then,” he huffs in amusement. “Keep your secrets. We’ll find out eventually.”

“Anyway.” Max shakes his head, “I’m going to go get ready.” He tells the group, draining the last of his blood. “See if I can’t go seduce one of the pretty witches who are feeling spunky tonight.” He smirks, winking at Eddie and sailing out of the room whistling the theme song of The Craft movie, Love Spit Love.

******

The warmth from the sun is starting to dissipate by the time you arrive at the sweet little Dutch colonial that Allison shares with her sisters Tracy and Kristin. The family home had been the center of a farm a few hundred years ago, according to what Allison had told you earlier today, but now what they had left was their farmhouse and its small backyard, and they were perfectly happy with that. A half dozen cars are already outside when you park the Corvette, feeling conspicuous but grateful that Mrs. Taylor had sent you with a dish. Alison gave you no hint that it was a potluck.

"You came!" Before you are already out of the car, Allison has opened the door. Greeting you like a dear friend. "Oh - you are our guest," she tuts when she sees you grab the dish out of the passenger seat. "I didn't want you to feel obligated to bring something."

“I couldn’t possibly come empty-handed.” Even though it almost happened, you would have been extremely embarrassed if it had. As it is, you are happy to hand over the dish that Mrs. Taylor so lovingly crafted and packed. “I’m…I’m told it’s an old favourite of the coven,” you murmur, not having told her who you are or where you live when you met earlier today. Why would you? But now it seems essential.

"Oh?" Her curiosity is peaked for all of three seconds until she smells the casserole from the edges of the top. "Oh my god!" She cries. "Is that- that's the sausage and lentils that Cookie Brown would bring?" Her eyes widen and she looks at you with a sense of gratefulness and surprise. "How did you--"

“I—I didn’t know Ms. Brown,” you preface your explanation immediately. “But it seems we were related. And she left me her estate in her will. Mrs. Taylor…she’s amazing. And wouldn’t let me come without bringing this for all of you.”

“Ohhhh bless you both.” She tilts her head in curiosity, wanting to ask if you know about the residents of the mansion, Ms. Brown had confided in the coven about them, but she doesn’t ask you. Figuring she didn’t want to open that can of worms if you didn’t.

“I understand Cookie used to hold events for the coven fairly frequently?” It’s no wonder, being only one person - or three, with Max and Eddie there - and having all that space. “I would be happy to do the same. And I know Mrs. Taylor would be, too.”

She's startled for a moment, amazed that you would offer the space back to the coven if you aren't practicing. "That is very kind." She smiles. "We will have to see about showing you what some of the events at the manor would look like." She giggles. "We had talked for years about having a ball."

“I guess she used to have them all the time. You know…when she was younger?” Following Allison into the farmhouse, the sense of calm and scent of spice in the air reminds you distinctly of the Mabons of your childhood. “My roommates and I…well, they were encouraging me…we were talking yesterday about maybe having a masquerade.”

"That would be a wonderful thing." Allison sets the dish down amongst the others on the table and guides you towards the drink table. "I can imagine it would be a beautiful thing. If you do decide to hold one, please let me know what I could do to help."

“I would love the help, honestly. I have no idea what I’m doing but it sounds so nice.” A large slow cooker of warm, spiced apple cider stands at the ready and you defer to that happily when offered a drink. “But thank you for inviting me tonight. I really…I had no idea there would be witches here when I moved.”

"Our coven isn't quite as publicized as the ones near Salem, but we are well known on the eastern seaboard." She boasts, proud of that fact. "But it's more of a myth than anything else."

“A myth?” People are milling around greeting each other with enthusiastic hugs, so you get the feeling that you might be the only ‘guest’ here tonight. It gives you a slight feeling of needing to cling to Allison, and you eagerly ask for the story if she’s willing to tell it instead of daring to meet more new people just yet.

She smiles softly, her expression turning slightly dreamy. "It's one that you might not believe." She cautions. "But back nearly two hundred years ago, the head of our coven was soulmates with a vampire. Their love changing magic and this area forever."

“But…” Your brow furrows immediately, confusion and incredulity more than anything else — but you also don’t want to sound rude. “Vampires…they don’t exist?”

She tilts her head, shrugging slightly. "Hence why it's a myth." She won't correct you, since you obviously don't know about the residents and staff that are near you every day. "But it's said that the vampire who was her mate was incredibly devoted to her. Not caring that they were historical enemies and proving his love for her was real. His marks matching hers and his heart jumping to life when she was near. Feeding her some of his blood to prolong her life well beyond a mere mortal's existence until she was ready to shuck her mortal coil."

“It sounds terribly romantic.” The spice of the cider in your cup is a welcome sip, making you almost hum in pleasure. “A soulmate to help you live forever sounds…daunting, though. I suppose happiness makes it worthwhile.” Not that you can particularly relate on that front, but you can dream. An eternity with Derek might have been what killed you, not kept you alive.

"It would." Allison agrees, her own cup of cider is curled up to her lips. "I hope that one day I find my soulmate and he's that devoted to me."

“I don’t see how he couldn’t be,” you promise her with a wistful smile. “You’re too sweet to have anything else.”

She hums happily and shrugs. "I don't know, might be horrible to live with." She winks and reaches forward to curl her arm through yours.

Allison leads you out the back door of the kitchen to the small patio just outside where a dozen or so other women have now congregated with their drinks. They have all noticed you at this point but no one has questioned your appearance at all. Allison has a bit of a history of picking up interesting strays and bringing them home.

"So we don't have many male members of the coven." Allison admits. "Few want to admit that they practice, so it's just going to be us ladies tonight."

"The only man I've ever known in a coven was my father." You tell her with a small shrug. "It's a shame that it's still rare."

"Being Wiccan or having a coven is still one of those things that is viewed as feminine in a lot of mindsets." She huffs. "Although Ms. Brown's soulmate always came with her when he was available, even if he wasn't practicing."

"I know it's just because I miss her." A short woman with bright orange, curly hair and wide glasses comes out of the house behind where you and Allison are standing with a confused expression on her face. "But I could have sworn I smelled Cookie's lentil stew coming through the kitchen. Wishful thinking, I guess."

"Actually..." Allison smiles. "Candice....our guest here brought Cookie's lentil stew. She's related to our gal and inherited her house."

"No!" Candice gasps, but her face lights up with excitement. "That's so fantastic! I mean we all miss Cookie so much but I'm so glad to know that her legacy is continuing on."

"She seems like she was a very special woman." There is anxiety in the way you shift your feet, but you smile. "Unfortunately, I didn't know her at all."

“I’m so sorry.” Candice frowns and reaches out to touch your arm. “She was well respected and loved in the coven. If you want us to tell you about her, just ask.”

"I would really like that, actually. My roommates have only told me a little bit so far." Granted it has only been two days, but it's almost like Mrs. Taylor and Renee are afraid to say too much. And if that's true, you have to wonder what they're so afraid of.

“I’ve told her about our coven legend.” Allison tells Candice, knowing the chatty witch would spread the word. “About the witch and the vampire soulmates? She likes the story.”

“I know everybody thinks vampires are folklore,” Candice laughs, waving it off like it’s the silliest thing in the world. “But those are the same people who think magic isn’t real. So I guess ignorance is bliss.”

Allison smiles blandly, eyeing her fellow witch. “Of course.” She hums. “Come on.” She tells you. “Let’s go get you settled.”

The introductions seem endless. Every one is very nice and very glad to hear of the relationship you apparently hold to their old friend. It’s only when Allison’s sisters are giving you a little tour of the house and refreshing your drink that Candice pulls Allison aside. “She doesn’t know, does she?” The older woman asks, chewing on her lip with nerves.

"Not a clue." Allison keeps her eyes on the stairs, making sure that you aren't coming downstairs. "I'm not sure what is going on, but it seems like she has no idea that her 'roommates' are vampires. Or that our legend is real and was her relative."

“Gods.” Candice exhales deeply and shakes her head. “That’s a hell of a secret to keep while she’s in that house.”

"I'm sure there is a reason that it's being kept from her." She murmurs softy. "We just need to make sure that we aren't the ones to tell her."

“We zip our lips and throw away the key,” Candice agrees. “He was always nice enough to us when we met him, but the last thing I want to to make him upset.”

Allison snorts at the understatement of the year. "He did manage to steal from the devil after all." She reminds Candice with a knowing look. "I wouldn't want to upset him either."

“Never.” With another shake of her head, Candice huffs a laugh. “But I like her. She seems sweet.”

"She seems...." Allison flounders for a better word than what springs to mind, but none come to mind. "Broken." She voices, her tone concerned and sad. "Like maybe Newport is a haven for her."

“I would’ve said skittish,” Candice admits, but she smiles softly. “Fate had you stumble into each other’s paths this morning. Now it’s up to us to offer her family. Who knows what’s happened? The best we can do is offer her open arms.” It’s what Cookie would have done, and they all know it. So for her, they will make sure you are safe here.

"We will protect her." Allison agrees. "I will visit Mrs. Taylor tomorrow to see what the plan is for having her in their household."

“Tell her we said hello.” The whole coven loves Cookie’s vampiric housekeeper, but Candice in particular loved all of Mrs. Taylor’s stories about the ‘good old days’ of pre-plague England.

"Of course I will." Allison knows that Mrs. Taylor will insist on sending back some cookies or a cake to the coven of witches who had been regular visitors to the mansion while Cookie had been alive.

“Good.” Candice told her head slightly when she catches sight of you coming downstairs with Tracy. “Lets start the fire up and sit down to eat. This night just got a lot more important.”

The fire is crackling, lighting up the back yard and the logs that have been situated around them in a generous circle. Providing seating that is inviting and natural. All of you drifting out to gather around it after filling your bellies with the food, the lentil stew completely demolished with appreciative groans of happiness.

Prayers and wishes of plenty are shared for the equinox. An opportunity to cleanse before the new year starts is always appreciated, and bay leaves with refreshing wishes written on them are dropped one by one into the fire until everyone sits back again and begins to chat amongst themselves. The night is beautiful, and you hug your sweater around yourself — glad for just a moment that Max had suggested it. The temperature has dropped sharply tonight and you have to wonder if it’s due to being so close to the ocean.

At first, the bat isn’t noticed, sitting on the branch of a tree just outside of the dancing light from the fire. Black, beady eyes taking in the ground and then flapping his wings to take flight, honing in on one particular witch.

Allison had been asking you something animated about living in Nashville when you caught the movement out of the corner of your eye. Black wings blend into the darkness easily, but as the little figure gets closer to the fire you can make it out perfectly. “Gods!” You almost startled but the gasping sound you make it delighted. “You’re real!”

Max squawks as the bat, circling your head twice as the entire coven watches with various expressions of bewilderment at the appearance of the vampire. Everyone knows you don’t know about the feeding habits of your roommates, so why are you familiar with the bat form of one of them? He lands on your shoulder again and ruffles his wings as he folds them up, his face turned towards you expectantly.

“Hey cutie,” you greet the little creature the same way you did last night, deciding to grapple with the fact that you obviously didn’t dream the entire thing later. For now you put you hand up gently and pet the bat’s little head with two fingers. “How’d you find me so far from home, huh?”

Max chirps indignantly and flaps his wings at you. Insulted by the idea that this was far from home.

“Alright, so you’re a very crafty bat, then. I’ll give you that.” Your fingers pet the little creature’s head gently and you smile, instantly more relaxed. “Could’ve sworn bats were supposed to be blind, though. I feel like you’re looking right at me.”

He would roll his eyes at you, but he just nuzzles into your hand and hops up closer to your neck. Feeling the warmth from your body and sensing your pulse. Craving the closeness tonight.

“This little guy flew in my window last night,” you explain to Allison and several other nearby witches who look nothing short of shocked. “I could have sworn I dreamt the whole thing, but look at this. He found me again.”

“That bat?” Allison asks, watching as the larger than normal bat turns his head and she swears he winks at her before nuzzling you.

“Yeah.” The feeling of having the little guy nuzzle into your neck makes you laugh. “Weird, right? I always thought bats stayed away from humans.”

“Some of them are apparently friendly.” Candice snorts, watching as a vampire stake his claim on you. That’s the only thing that it could be. While he had come to plenty of ceremonies, never had he been in any form but his normal self. Where this had to be Max. Cookie had said he was a black bat.

“He let me read to him.” Knowing that it actually happened and wasn’t just a cute little dream basically lights you up inside like a little goth Disney Princess. “Cutest thing in the world.”

The little bat preens, as if he understands what’s being said about him, because he does. Max chirps and stomps his little bat feet on your shoulder.

“You don’t…mind him, right?” Just because you think he’s cute as all hell doesn’t mean the other coven members will, and you raise your eyes to Allison with concern and care. “I wouldn’t bring him in your house. I promise.”

“I think that he will go where he wants.” She tells you diplomatically with a small smile on her face.

“Maybe.” Bats are wild animals, after all. Even as cute as this one is, that doesn’t make it a pet. “I just think he’s sweet.”

The other witches giggle and ‘awww’ over the sight of the bat on your shoulder, all of them aware of his true nature. “Bats are sweet.” Allison agrees with a grin.

“Who knew?” Candice all but giggles. “I always thought bats were a little dickish. Like little winged misogynists.”

Max ruffles his wings, glowering at the witch and huffing, the sound coming out as little squeaks.

“Aww, it’s okay cutie.” The chattering by your ear makes you laugh softly and you pet him again. “You’re just a softie.”

He settles to your touch, cuddling against your hand and deciding that he’s not close enough. The next time you move your hand to pet him, he jumps into your palm.

It earns a wistful sighing noise from a few surprised witches nearby and a giggle from you. “You want cuddles again, don’t you?” Looking back at Allison and Candice, you shrug a little as you cuddle the bat to your chest. “Last night I made him a little nest to sit in my lap while I read.”

Max grins as he burrows into your chest. Unhappy that he’s not skin-to-fur, but at least he’s getting to cuddle into your breasts. Not that he’s trying to be creepy, but you are snuggling him to his favorite part on a woman and you are gorgeous to him.

“That’s super cute.” Candice can barely contain her laughter with the image in front of her, but she sips her cider and smirks. “So how are you getting along with your roommates?” She prompts, keeping her tone light and airy.

“Oh! Um…Okay, I think?” Really, everything about having this little bat with you is oddly comforting, but you do get a faint whiff of something weird like…sunscreen? Maybe? Which is weird but not off putting. You had just never heard that bats smell like sunscreen. “Eddie is really nice. And I don’t…I don’t know Max very well yet.”

Max the bat, coos at you in soft protest. He’s the one that’s spent the most time with out of all of them. Even putting you to bed last night after you had fallen asleep reading to him.

If you had known it was him — had any idea whatsoever — you might have laughed. A stifled giggle if nothing else. But since you have no idea, you just pet the little creature and shrug as Candice asks, “Max hasn’t been nice?”

“I think I’m not what he expected,” you admit with a small frown, thinking of his behavior at dinner the night before. “But he was very nice today. Mrs. Taylor made a beautiful tea tray with some of the cheese I got from Allison today and Max and I shared it.”

“Max shared tea with you?” Candice raises her brow. “It’s rare that Max really socializes. So if he’s spending any time with you, I bet you he’s finding you interesting.”

“Oh…I don’t know about that.” Despite sitting here at a coven gathering with a snuggly bat in your palm and the keys to a mysteriously inherited mansion in your purse, you shrug. “I’m not particularly interesting.”

Max flaps his wings, fluttering and against your chest again. Snuggling his head into your skin against your heartbeat.

“Maybe he thinks you are?” Candice offers, trying very hard not to giggle and give the apparently secret identity of your little friend away.

He doesn’t know why the witches are giggling, no one knows it’s him. Perfectly disguised for the evening to watch over you, since he’s felt the need to see what you are up to.

“Maybe.” Though you shrug, you can’t think why someone as sophisticated and obviously worldly as Max would care. “I suppose new things are interesting for a time.”

Max frowns, unsure why someone as pretty as you would have such a negative outlook. You should be flaunting your health and beauty.

“Sometimes new things stay interesting for a long time,” Allison smiles kindly and pats your knee. “You never know which new things can become old habit.”

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @katheriner1999 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon   @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie

VW: @haileymorelikestupid, @miraclesabound

My Masterlist!

[uselessmicrowave]

for a friend

tfp optimus prime x reader x megatron (pt 2)

part two of this post

tws/content- dubcon elements, dark themes, megatron being a weird mf, voyeurism, shock collars, petplay, master/servant, edging, sticky interfacing, oral

“Good bot, Optimus. Now I want to see you. Open your panels and press your spike into it. You want to have your pet like this in the future, don’t you, Prime?”

“Y- Yes, Lord Megatron.” instead of shoving his spike directly into you, Optimus swipes his servo over his glossa, gathering oral lubricant on his digits. He rubs at the tip of his spike groaning, then reaches down to in between your thighs. Optimus hesitates, looking up at you for permission. You nod.

“I said,” another shock to the poor, detained bot. “spike it.”

“I’ll try to be gentle.” he quickly rubs at your entrance. “I don’t know if I can-” Optimus is cut off with his own yelp, the warlord pushing his hips into yours. It hurts like hell, the pain stings around your whole waist. You shut your eyes and clench your jaw in discomfort. “M’ s-so sorry Y/n-”

“Awe, are you?” Megatron leans into the autobot, faceplates next to faceplates. His whole frame shudders, his spike twitching inside of you. “How does that feel, Optimus? Is it too much?”

Optimus, somehow, looks so much more overwhelmed in this state. Megatron is responded to by a weak moan, desperate and high.

“Tight!” Optimus’ optics flare brightly, his frame shuddering audibly again. “Oh- frag!” his voice booms around you, you suddenly feel scorching hot liquid taking up space inside of you. It’s a struggle to keep his huge aft spike inside you, even halfway inside. Now with the transfluids, his spike is being pushed out. It feels like you’re a water balloon about to pop.

“Overloaded already?” a shock to the autobot makes him flinch hard, his spike twitches inside of you. “Bad bot, prime.” Megatron pulls the red bot back and out of you, taking hold of the collar. Some of the fluids gush onto the cold tabletop.

“Be a good bot.” Optimus lets the grey mech bend him over the table, his faceplates are pressed right up against your sex.

“Hnn!” Optimus’ vents push against your body, his optics closed in an attempt to not get so charged up again and to conceal the amount of arousal he was really feeling.

“You know what to do with them, don’t you, Optimus?” Megatron prompts. The autobot shakily opens his intake, pushes his glossa past his dermas and in between your legs. His optics are lazily trained on your body, oral lubricant spilling out onto your thighs.

Optimus hums as he licks at your sex, tasting his and your fluids. He moves towards your soaked entrance. He gently prods his way into you, craning his neck cables to give you the most he can.

You moan at the sensation, arching your back and tensing. It’s not painful as it was before, his glossa is a much better fit for your fragile human body. He gingerly pumps his glossa into you, massaging all of the places that had been abused prior. Optimus can feel you squeezing down on his glossa, he knows his faceplates are painted blue and burning against your skin. It would be a reddish color for the next few days with the temperature of his plating.

It’s beginning to be too much stimulation for you, you whine and writhe against the mech’s faceplates. Optimus reaches a servo up to you, taking hold of your thigh and holding you still. You paw at his servos, not so silently begging for him to let you squirm. Optimus keeps a hold on your body until you buck into his faceplates, so close to your peak of pleasure.

But, unfortunately, Optimus decides to cease the thrusting and instead he begins to kiss at your thighs. You whine loudly and protest by tugging at his audial fins and kibble, Megatron chuckles.

“I never knew you were such a little tease, Prime.” the warlord muses, watching the autobot’s movements. “I need you to be a good bot and make them overload, can you do that?”

Optimus immediately continues his actions from beforehand, shoving his glossa in and out of your tight hole. Megatron places a hand on the prime’s helm, almost gently, pushing his faceplates into your malleable body. “Good bot.”

“Mmph…” Optimus’ voice sends pleasant vibrations through your body. It makes you even more needy, closer to your edge.

“Yes, give them what they want.” with a slow lick to your sex, you reach your peak and writhe against his glossa. Optimus pulls away from you, letting you ride the pleasure out fully.

Out of nowhere, an overwhelming tiredness washes over you. Your body goes slack on the cold table, breathing hard to cool down and slow your heartbeat to calm yourself. Drool drips from your opened mouth onto your chest, it runs down your side.

Optimus, licking his derma, has your fluid all over his faceplates. His eyes are still lazily watching the relieved and tired expressions you make.

“I think that you have overwhelmed your little toy.” Megatron rumbles. “No matter, we can continue without the plaything.”

The grey mech picks you up in his cold claws, taking you through a door to a separate room. He carefully sets you down on a table covered with soft fabric. Megatron softly speaks to you, “Be a good little human and stay right here, hm?”

Then he exits, leaving you alone and in the warm, welcoming darkness. You decide to rest, maybe you will fall asleep, maybe not. The fabric rubs against your skin in an almost comforting way as you lay down and relax. The longer you stare at the high ceiling, the heavier your eyelids would get.

Just before you fall asleep, there is a quiet voice. “Recharge well, little organic.”

You’ve woken back up. It’s the middle of the night, you are on top of a sleeping Optimus, kind of near the base, someone has dressed you, and you have a blanket covering your body. Optimus is still warm, but without the thick purple blanket you would be freezing. Your mind is too fuzzy to wonder who gave it to you.

You turn your attention to the mech, his optics are offline, and his vents are steady. There isn’t a collar around his neck cables anymore, the poor bot’s vents rattle as he cools himself down. You rise and fall on top of his chassis.

You can see an infinite amount of stars from here. Without the light pollution from a big city, the stars are able to shine clearly. There are no clouds to spoil your view.

It wouldn’t be too bad to stay out here tonight.

[baldurs-writers-3]

Horror: A Baldur's Gate 3 Fanfiction Rec List

This week, we have Horror! Check under the cut for seven fics that explore some of the darker and more frightening elements of Faerun, and as always, comment and kudos if you like them!

Hand, Hearth, and Home by ElleKhen (393,131, Explicit) Content Notes: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Body Horror Pairings: Astarion/Male Tav

This fic covers the backstory and in-game story of a warlock who was raised by a shadow-fey-possessed church. After being infected by the mind flayer tadpole, he meets a dream guardian who appears to him as a childhood friend and first love who he thought dead. As his party goes on with their quest, he is also forced to face the consequences of his shadow-cursed existence, and what that means for the people he loves.

Reccer says: I love that this fic is full of visceral, angsty smut and exciting action. But the author always follows up the hurt with comfort. They especially approach the Astarion romance with so much care, and do a great job of writing his voice. Due to the nature of Church’s magic, there are body horror elements especially when the story covers the events of Act 2. This fic expands upon the Shadowlands, Shadowfell, the Raven Queen, and shadow magic as a whole to depict terrifying sequences Church must face with his companions (and lover) beside him. I learned a lot about that particular D&D lore that way, and it made Act 2 feel a lot bigger and scarier than it originally felt.

A Dream of Silence by AbigailMoment (2,683, Mature) Content Notes: possible main char death Pairings: astarion/tav

An interactive story, where you have to save Astarion from a horrible nightmare of worst thing that Cazador ever did to him

Reccer says: Very well written with tons of replayability. Also you get to pet his hair

What Could Have Been by Bella1433! (119,228, Explicit) Content Notes: Dark themes, there are archive warnings Pairings: Tav (named) X Astarion

The maze scene, the race through the city. Astarion is a terrifying vampire lord in this fic!

Reccer says: Vampire lord acting like a vampire lord and being terrifying! Using his powers

The Tyrant, the Assassin, and the Corpse by aqeldroma (3,241, Explicit) Content Notes: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Murder Pairings: The Dark Urge/Enver Gortash

After the Hall of Wonders, the Dark Urge visits Gortash to test him in another way. When she finds someone already in his bed, the night turns predictably violent.

Reccer says: Pre-canon Dark Urge and Gortash pairing, set back when they are testing each other's limits. The horrific things happen to everyone in their orbit, naturally.

Hunger is Satisfaction by CountTavula (25,904, Explicit) Content Notes: Very dark content Pairings: Tav X Astarion

The psychological horror in this is extremely high and surprisingly so.

Reccer says: Its a thriller, psychological horror, not even a dark fantasy most times, just...dread

The Vanishing of Astarion Ancunín: The beginning by Gally (3,526, Mature) Content Notes: None Pairings: None

A glimpse at his last few days of life and the first terrifying minutes of his new unlife.

Reccer says: He wasn't an evil man, he wasn't a great man... he was just a man.

Bathed in Sound by Nikolai_237 (1,005, General) Content Notes: None Pairings: Karlach/Tav

In the Feyweird, not all is dangerous but most is unsettling. For instance, sometimes you find your partner just sitting in the middle of a bunch of floating whale skeletons.

Reccer says: This is my first concept fic for the Feyweird, my psychological horror playground, and for some reason people seem to like it. I enjoy writing creepy stuff and I love weaving horror into my work.

The above fanfic recommendations were pulled from our community for this weekly event. Have any questions about what this is? Check out the FAQ!

Next week, we’ll be returning with a character rec list, this time for Lae’zel! 

[mysticalangel3]

🩷🪷🌙🤍

Pile 1

The cards in this pile carry a lot of fire energy, indicating action. It could be you taking action towards somebody, or someone will be taking action towards you soon. This person is full of passion and energy; however, with the Three of Wands, I see them approaching with caution, or you might approach them cautiously as they might mean a lot to some of you already. With the Ten of Cups, I feel like that is what they want to offer you. The Ten of Cups is a water sign card, which is all about emotions, love, happiness, stability, just a happy household, and fulfilment. I see this card as representing something long-term. This connection will build both of you and lead to significant things. When I say significant things, everyone will interpret the words differently, but what I mean is that things that are meaningful to you, such as goals, will materialise. Good luck <3

Pile 2

Dear Pile two, how are you? Have you been looking after yourselves? I see that many of you have been in a low energy state, or perhaps you've been recharging your energy and retreating from external activities such as relationships. You might be going through a period of self-love, rediscovery, and healing. Well done for prioritizing yourself, and if you're not, please take care of yourself. With the Moon card, I feel like you need to ground yourself, as this practice will improve your mood. You might be facing some challenges with low mood or perhaps working with your emotions. With the Fool card, I feel like this is a rebirth phase in your life. It is a new beginning that will lead you to new things, not only romantically speaking but in other aspects of your life too. For some of you, it might mean moving to a new place and starting fresh, but it can be something as meaningful as adopting a pet. With all cards being major arcana, if you chose this pile, expect deep inner transformation for the best. Sending love <3

Pile 3

Pile three is very similar to pile 2, but I feel like many of you have been hurt or perhaps have anxieties and insecurities regarding something in your life. Maybe you were previously brought down by loved ones or have been hurt by people you thought loved you, which is why you struggle to go with the flow and tend to overthink. I can see this with the Four of Swords and Nine of Swords. Being air sign cards, I feel like overthinking past issues is still a main theme that needs to be worked on. With the Three of Pentacles, I would suggest speaking with loved ones or professionals and practising grounding exercises. Healing is an important part of overcoming obstacles, and you are more than capable, sweetness. Right now, focus on yourself, prioritise yourself, and treat yourself. Give yourself all the love and spread love. You got this <3

[enchantedchocolatebars]

Cosmic Frontier: Space Wolves Vs. Earth Ponies

Fanfic for Camila Mama Week 2024 (@camilamamaweek).

Day 6: Cosmic Frontier/Wolves

To commemorate this wonderful week, I opted to write short stories that feature Camila and her second daughter, Alma, who is one of my OCs.

This is part 2 of "Shopping For Snacks".

Summary: The family arrives at the theater together, but they encounter an irritating ticket taker.

Enjoy!

("Build-A-Bud" is a parody of "Build-A-Bear").

"Come on, come on, Mom and Alma," Luz whispered worriedly, gazing at the time on her purple Azura themed wristwatch while standing near the movie theater entrance with her stepfather.

"Please hurry." She didn't want the four of them to miss a single second of the movie.

Luz began to tap her foot, her nerves at an all-time high.

Beardo Philip brought a comforting hand on Luz's shoulder, gently patting it.

"They'll be here," he reassured, looking down at her, which made Luz take a deep breath and sigh, nodding her head.

After bringing his gaze back up, Philip's smile got brighter, his blue eyes lighting up.

"And here they come now."

Hearing this, Luz looks up to see her mother and sister hurriedly rushing over to her and Philip, with Alma waving happily at her sister, who giggled and waved back.

"Sorry we're late," Camila apologized with a sigh, adjusting her purse.

"We brought snacks!" Alma beamed, pulling out a candy bar from her skirt pocket to show it before placing it back.

"Honestly," Philip began, viewing the time on Luz's watch. "I think you arrived right on time, calabaza."

He smiled at Camila.

Camila let out a fond giggle at his adorable pet name.

She simply loved it when he called her that.

Camila then goes over to Philip and places a sweet smooch on his left cheek. "Gracias, mi amor."

...

Upon entering the cinema lobby together, the family walks to the ticket taking podium on the right side of the theater.

Luz, recognizing who their ticket taker is, cringes.

'Ugh, not him,' she groaned in her mind.

He was known to be the most annoying person in town.

Luz was curious as to how he ended up landing a job at the movies, but she doubts he'll have it for long.

He's bound to mess it up and get fired, somehow.

Jacob caught sight of the candy bar sticking out of Alma's pocket as the family arrived at the podium.

The theater didn't sell that brand.

He frowned at this and pointed an accusatory finger at the small girl.

Philip already didn't like this man.

"You!" Jacob cried. "No outside food or drink allowed in the thea--"

Before Philip could maul this ill-mannered man with his bare hands, Camila was first to make a move, narrowing her eyes at Jacob.

"Is there going to be a problem here...,"

Camila spoke in a low, threatening voice as she reached into her purse and pulled out her chancla slightly, enough for Jacob to see it and gulp.

"Mister?"

Flashbacks of the past begin to play in his mind as Jacob feels an unexpected sting on his right cheek, holding it.

The strike of her slipper was still present in that place.

He shutters.

"N-Not at all, ma'am," he answered with a frightened stammer.

"Good," said Camila, dropping her chancla in her purse and pulling out the tickets to hand to Jacob, who politely took and ripped them.

He handed her a ticket stub.

"Your theater number is 5. It's located in the center of the hall on the left side," he said before showing Camila a nervous smile. "Enjoy the show!"

"Yay!" Alma cheered as she and her family walked down the hall.

A sigh of relief escaped Jacob as he wiped his brow.

However, he felt a pair of eyes on him and turned around to see Camila squinting at him.

The mother's expression indicated that she had her eyes on him as she turned back around.

...

"Uh...," a man holding a ticket said as he approached the ticket taker podium and saw the male ticket taker silently weeping to himself while rocking back and forth in the fetal position.

...

"Wow, that movie was great!" An astonished Luz exclaimed as she and her family exited the movie auditorium and entered the hallway with the other movie goers.

"Yeah!" Alma agreed with her sister, smiling brightly. "My favorite part was when the wolves became friends with the ponies."

She turned to look at her mother, who was holding her hand.

"Mamá, can we go to the Build-A-Bud Workshop at the mall tomorrow and build a space wolf friend and an Earth pony friend?" she asked.

She remembers a commercial about it playing before the movie started.

Camila gives her daughter a smile and nods. "Of course, mija."

...

As the family walked down the theater lobby, Alma spotted the ticket taker who had pointed at her at the podium.

He was sitting on a stool at the bar by himself.

She proceeds to point at him. "Mamá, look! It's that man!"

Camila turns her attention to the bar, where she witnessed Jacob filling his shot glass with butter from a popcorn butter bottle that he had and taking a shot of it.

The bartender, who was wiping a shot glass, seemed quite disturbed by his peculiar coping mechanism.

Camila, repulsed by the sight, slowly looks back at Alma with a genuine smile. "Pay him no mind, baby. He's just a strange man."

"Oh!" Alma smiled back at her mother. "Yes, Mamá."

[tiny-wooden-robot-fics]

Magnolia - Chapter Five

Rating: Explicit Media: Jujutsu Kaisen Pairing(s): Geto Suguru x Original Female Character, Geto Suguru x Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru x Gojo Satoru x Original Female Character Additional tags: Vampire AU, Dark Themes, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Suicide Attempt, Depression, Loneliness, Eventual Smut, Polyamory, Slow Burn

A/N: More tags will be added as chapters are updated. Please be mindful of the tags and warnings at the beginning of each chapter, as they will tell you what you need to know about the content within.

Minors, DNI.

Summary:

When she hears him coming, she looks up at him. “Oh,” she says softly. “Were you looking for me?”

“Kind of but not really,” he answers, settling himself cross-legged beside her. “You okay?”

“I guess,” she murmurs with a shrug, looking down at her lap. Her wrists are still bandaged, the soft white fabric covering the cuts that are still healing. “I don’t know.”

Suguru knows that trying to force her to talk won’t do him any good, and so he aims to let her know that he is a safe space if she wants to talk. “I’ve been told I’m a good listener,” he grins at her. “And whatever secrets you have are safe with me.”

“You won’t tell Satoru?” She peers over at him.

“Why would I?” He looks away from her. “He barely talks to me these days anyway.”

Chapter Navigation 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17

Read on AO3

Chapter Warnings: Suggestive (implied/referenced phone sex), Gojo Satoru is his own warning

Chapter Five: Would I Be Whole?

I could suffice for Him, I knew-- He-- could suffice for Me Yet Hesitating Fractions - Both Surveyed Infinity “Would I be Whole” He sudden broached My syllable rebelled-- ‘Twas face to face with Nature - forced ‘Twas face to face with God -Emily Dickinson, I could suffice for him, I knew (excerpt)

--

“When are you coming back?” 

It’s a little absurd, he knows, to ask the question right now. At Satoru’s coaxing he’s made a mess of himself, his chest and abdomen covered in a thin sheen of sweat and sticky little rivulets of his own cum. Thousands of miles away, Satoru lounges in a similar disheveled state, modern technology connecting them through a seven-inch screen.

“Dunno,” Satoru replies noncommittally with a shrug. “Is this you asking me to?”

“This is me telling you that I miss you, and that it would be nice to see you in person instead of through a screen,” he sighs. “I thought that would mean something, but I guess it doesn’t.”

“But modern technology is amazing though, right?” Satoru grins at him. “Even though we’re on opposite sides of the world, it feels like we’re in the same room.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Suguru murmurs, reaching for his discarded t-shirt. He uses it to wipe the mess off of his chest and belly. “It feels like I’m video chatting with you because we’re thousands of miles apart. Which is exactly what we’re doing. It feels like you’re not here, so I’m jerking myself off and trying to pretend it feels like your hand. Which is exactly what I’m doing.”

“Ok, ok, don’t whine,” Satoru complains, sounding more like he’s the one whining. “What’s gotten into you? You’ve never made a fuss about me being gone before.”

“You’ve never been gone this long before,” Suguru points out. He pauses. “And you never used to stay there that long.” 

“Hmm… I see your point,” Satoru concedes. “But it’s wintertime already where you are, and you know I hate how cold it gets up there.” Even through the small screen, Suguru can see that he’s pouting. “Can I at least wait until summer?”

Where you are, Satoru has said, as though the house isn’t his home, too. 

This conversation is only a variation of a conversation they’ve had dozens of times before. Suguru is suddenly weary of it and all the feelings that come with it, and he doesn’t feel like arguing with Satoru anymore. “Do what you want,” he mutters finally, looking away from the screen.

“C’mon… don’t be like that.” 

Suguru ignores him. 

“Suguruuuuuu.” 

“What.”

“How’s your pet?” Sensing he’s already on thin ice, Satoru clears his throat and amends his question. “Err… I mean, how’s your human?”

“Why are you asking? It’s not like you care.”

“But I do,” Satoru protests. “Just because I’m not fond of humans in general, it doesn’t mean I don’t care about this one. She was interesting enough to catch your eye… That must mean she’s special.”

He can hear what’s not being said just as clearly as what is: Even with your well-known soft spot for humans, you’ve only ever taken in two others. What makes this one different?

“Special?” He repeats thoughtfully. “Maybe.” He pauses. “To be honest, I do feel a connection with her that I haven’t felt with anybody in a long time. It’s more than just wanting to protect her or take care of her. I wonder if it’s because she and I are alike in a lot of ways.”

“Oh?” Satoru’s eyes aren’t on the phone; he’s moved into the bathroom of his apartment and is cleaning himself off. Suguru is treated to the sight of the light fixture on the ceiling of said bathroom. “How so?”

“Go take a shower,” he answers, sidestepping the question. “I’ll call you back later.”

“Hai, hai.”

He disconnects the call, tossing his phone onto the nightstand and wandering into his bathroom to pursue his own shower. 

--

He finds her exactly where he’s expecting to find her: under the magnolia tree in the backyard. She’d asked him about the magnolias in the vase the night he’d brought her to the house, and she’d seemed pleased when he’d taken her out back so she could see for herself where the blossoms are born. She has since claimed that spot for her own, often bundling up in one of his hoodies to keep the winter chill at bay, spending hours beneath the branches reading or journaling.

She’s currently sitting cross-legged on a blanket with her back against the tree’s massive trunk, a tray of tea and snacks next to her and one of his books lying beside it. She isn’t reading. She’s simply staring off at something in the distance that he can’t see.

When she hears him coming, she looks up at him. “Oh,” she says softly. “Were you looking for me?”

“Kind of but not really,” he answers, settling himself cross-legged beside her. “You okay?”

“I guess,” she murmurs with a shrug, looking down at her lap. Her wrists are still bandaged, the soft white fabric covering the cuts that are still healing. “I don’t know.”

Suguru knows that trying to force her to talk won’t do him any good, and so he aims to let her know that he is a safe space if she wants to talk. “I’ve been told I’m a good listener,” he grins at her. “And whatever secrets you have are safe with me.”

“You won’t tell Satoru?” She peers over at him. 

“Why would I?” He looks away from her. “He barely talks to me these days anyway.”

She feels bad for having brought it up. She knows that there is some rift between Suguru and the husband who lives on the other side of the world. She doesn’t know what the source of the rift is, but she can see how it deeply affects this man who has taken her in. “I’m sor---”

“Remember what I said? There’s no need to apologize for things that aren’t your fault.”

Instinctively, she opens her mouth to apologize again. She bites it back quickly and says instead, “Okay.”

They sit in silence for a few minutes. 

“I don’t really know what to do,” she confesses quietly, breaking the silence. “I… I guess I spent so much time planning for when I was dead that I… I never considered what my life would look like if I didn’t die the way I’d planned to.” She reaches out, plucking a few blades of grass and letting them flutter back to the ground. “I’d quit my job. The place I’d been living in for the past five years was a fully-furnished, month-to-month rental. I didn’t own much. I’ve still got a car,” she says, as if suddenly remembering its existence. “That is, if it hasn’t been stolen from where I left it.”

“What about the people in your life?” He asks. “Wouldn’t someone be looking for you by now?” 

“I don’t really have close friends anymore,” she admits. “It’s not that there weren’t people in my life. I just… Well, I guess I let myself lose touch with the ones I’d been close to in the past, and I kept any new people I’d meet at arms’ length. It felt better that way, you know? You can’t disappoint people if they don’t have expectations for you.”

He senses them again, those feelings that had been radiating off of her when he’d found her that first day: loneliness, sadness, regret. “What about your family?”

She visibly flinches at the word family. “I’ve been estranged from my family for years now,” she tells him. “They don’t even know where I live. No one’s cared to track me down, so I’m assuming they’re fine with the distance.”

Suguru wants to inquire further about it, but he senses that to do so would be a little like sticking a hot poker into an open wound. After all, they are two of a kind, and though it’s been decades since he became estranged from the people he once called family, the wounds are still there. 

“Well,” he says, “you can stay here as long as you like, you know.”

“Without a job?” She shakes her head. “No way would I feel comfortable mooching off of you without contributing something.”

“You aren’t mooching,” Suguru shrugs. “If you want a job, get one. If you don’t, don’t.”

It puzzles her, his laid-back attitude about it. “Yeah, but… groceries cost money. So do water and electricity. Once upon a time, I owned a home. I know those things aren’t free. Plus, these clothes---” She motions to what she’s wearing - another one of his hoodies and a pair of his sweatpants. “I should have my own clothes so I can stop stealing yours.”

“I like you in my clothes,” he teases her. “It’s cute, how you’re drowning in them.”

She isn’t sure why it makes her face go hot, but she likes the fluttery feeling his words evoke in the pit of her stomach. “Don’t tell me that,” she mumbles. “You might never get these back.” 

“You say that like it’s a problem.” Suguru shrugs again, resting his back against the trunk of the magnolia tree and closing his eyes. “Lia, I’ve been alive for a long time. I wasn’t born into wealth the way Satoru was, but I’ve been exceptionally smart with what I’ve made. It’s one of the benefits of having a long life - you’ve got the time to see returns on all kinds of investments.”

He cracks an eye open to look at her. “I don’t need money. If you stay here, neither will you. If working gives you a sense of fulfillment, I won’t stop you… but I think it would be nice - at least for a while - if you could enjoy your life without needing to.” 

She doesn’t know what to say to that.

“Besides,” he goes on, remembering Satoru’s words to him, “Your company is worth more to me than any amount of money you could ever give me.”

There it is again: the fluttery feeling in the pit of her stomach. Butterflies, she remembers. 

When was the last time someone gave me butterflies? 

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Chapter Six: Coming Soon