#I like beta Lemon though

[iamhereinthebg]

My villain origin backstory is really seeing some Akane’s analysis putting chapter 25.5 (the one with old Lemon and Akane in it) as canon.

[untaemedqueen]

Finding My Pack

Alpha!OT7 x Omega!Reader

Genre: Fated Mates, Omegaverse, Smut, Angst, Fluff

Series Warnings: Omega Abuse (Not By OT7), Fated Mates/Soulmates, Scent Sympathy, Sunshine!FMC, Knotting, Smut, MMMMMMMF, MMMF, MMF, MF, Breeding Kink, Cursing, Dom!OT7, Sub!Reader

Chapter Warnings: Omega Abuse

A/N: This will be the only chapter posted to Tumblr. All future chapters can be found on Patreon~! See you there!

Chapter 1.

"You do not lock the goddamn doors in this fucking house."

The sentence was thick with a growl, one that if I was born correctly wouldn't have mattered in the slightest. Just hearing the sharp hit of his words, my insides clenched and coiled, dying to listen and make sure that he wouldn't be mad at me again.

"Sorry," I whispered softly, looking down at my bare toes that curled awkwardly under my gaze.

"You need to put on your scent blocker and try a little bit harder to fit in here. You're making all your brothers crazy with that fucking smell."

Swallowing thickly, I grabbed the bottle from him with a nod.

If my scent made my brothers crazy, they made me out of my fucking mind with sickness. Every one of them smells like acidic garbage with a hint of overpowering sweetness, y'know, like the way too fake soaps or body lotions you find in those hoity toity stores.

"You're a fucking Pangborn. Please act like it," my father grumbled, wrinkling his nose at the smell of my nervousness. "Jesus Christ. I can't believe your mother made you."

His words were a low blow but nothing I wasn't used to hearing now. Nothing any of the pack said got to me as bad as it used it.

Liar.

Okay, a lot of it hurt but I tried not to think of it all the time. It was my fault, really. I wasn't born right.

To be a Pangborn in Cypress City, you have to be an alpha. The Pangborns breed for one purpose and one purpose only, to give the city more alphas then they know what to do with.

Every Pangborn is expected to be a boy, to be an alpha and to take on the numerous betas that are practically beating down the door for them to be let in. So when I was born, disappointment was ripe in the air. It still is.

A small female omega with no qualities and no purpose.

I'm nothing.

Oh that's fun, what a great thought to have. Even if it hurts, it's true.

Since I was born I've been kept hidden like a secret. There's no fairytale here, there's no pack of alpha princes waiting at the bottom of my incredibly sterile, sad tower. There's no one that cares. Well, maybe Brady and MacKenzie but they pretend I don't exist half the time.

Looking down at the bottle of scent blocker, a sob threatened to well up in my throat.

"Weak omega bullshit." That's what my father would say.

It's so fucking annoying to be different. It's so painful. But the hope that one day I'd be accepted never ceased to creep into my thoughts.

So I sprayed the spray on even though it makes me feel sick.

I could smell him before my door opened. His alpha pheromones were bleeding throughout the long hallway that lead to my room.

He smelled of garbage, lemon juice and the slightest hint of boysenberry. Although the boysenberry is not his own smell. It's a betas.

"Oy!" MacKenzie booms, shoving open the door.

His bright red hair and forest green eyes searched the mostly barren room until he found me in the corner.

"He cornered you again?" he asked softly, stepping into the room like he's witnessing a hurt animal.

"It's okay!" I tried to beam a smile for him but it fell flat into some kind of grimace.

MacKenzie wasn't really my brother, he hailed from the Alban Pangborns so he's more like my very distant cousin but he's pack and that makes him my authority regardless. If he barked at me, I'd end up doing his bidding. Just like all my other brothers do. I'm grateful he doesn't do it but he still could nonetheless.

"You sprayed on the right amount," Kenz praised, giving me a small smile.

The praise made me want to preen, made me want to jump and shout for joy that I did something right but I kept it locked tight within me.

"You'll be pleased to know that your father and some of the others are going on a business trip soon. It'll just be some of us left in the house. You won't have to smell all this alpha shite around, you ken?"

His thick accent made me smile then. When he first came over from Alba I had not a fucking clue what he was talking about but now it almost feels like a secret language we speak.

"I ken," I nodded, setting the spray down on my dresser.

"Just wait a while to come down to get your dinner. The boys and I have been having a beta fucking feast," he wiggled his eyebrows and left the doorway without so much as a goodbye.

I wish I was a beta.

No, actually, I wished I was an alpha. I wished I was born an alpha so that I didn't have to be a disappointment and left out of everything.

Sitting down on my bed, I fluffed the uncomfortable comforter around me to no avail and since I know I'm alone I let out the most pitiful of whines. Whining wasn't allowed. My father told me that alphas hate whining more than anything.

Once I whined during dinner with the Landons and their alpha son looked like he wanted to tackle me from across the table. It was the one and only time I was able to go to dinner with my family. They never let me go again.

I apparently ruined their business merger dinner.

My family made a fuck ton of money. Too much money to count on your fingers, not that I'd ever see a cent. I wasn't worth a dollar to them. They own a vast majority of land across the globe, mostly farms or patches of free wilderness that people are begging to buy from them.

If only those vast patches of land would be able to buy me a soft comfortable comforter. This one is rough and itchy and I don't like it. I don't know much about being an omega but I do know that I don't like the blankets I own.

You see, omegas are rare. Like one in one hundred is an omega rare. Somewhere in history omegas just became a rarity and as such they're terribly hated.

Whenever I tried to ask the pack any questions they all shut me down with a growl and told me to go back to my room.

"Y/N!"

My father's bark was sharp and I tightened my terribly uncomfortable blanket over my shoulders at the noise.

If they are having a beta party downstairs I most certainly wouldn't be welcome to interrupt it. All the beta females that came into the house hated me. I tried to be friendly and smile, tried to make friends with other girls but they didn't want anything to do with me.

Probably feeding into the whole hate omega-kind thing, huh?

When my father shouted my name again, I had no choice but to get up. It was an alpha command now, filled with bite and fury.

If I saw one bare tit I was going to lose my goddamn mind. I'd been having these awful urges these past couple of months. It felt like something was boiling in my gut and itching beneath my skin, just begging to get out of me. What it was, I wasn't sure but it feels fucking awful and devastating just the same.

When I was starting to run a fever, my father would give me a few pills and lock me up in my room until the fever had passed and I was able to carry on with my chores.

My feet took me without thinking. The large home I lived in with the twelve others in the pack passed by in a blur. I tried not to look up from the wooden floorboards, I really didn't want to see anyone mating out in the open like I know my brothers loved to do.

I could hear the audible moans of the betas, probably in various states of undress all around me as I made my way to my father's office.

This had always been my home but I'd always felt like a stranger here. It's not just because my family wasn't welcoming, it just felt wrong. Nothing in this place is where it should be. The pictures on the cabin-like wooden walls weren't at all in the right order, the couches in the sitting room weren't staged properly, even the wood that goes into the fireplace smells horrendous.

Everything about this place made me feel sick.

That includes my father's office.

Once I stepped inside I was immediately smacked with pheromones, ones that made my stomach roll with nausea. I wonder if that's how everyone felt. I wonder if betas got nauseous with their families too.

My eyes scanned the room which was terribly out of order and then they caught on the one picture that sat on my father's desk.

It was her.

My mother. Whom of which I've never met. She was a beta that my father never bonded with but got pregnant anyway. He loved her…I think. But when she had me and I was an omega she was disappointed and left me here. She left me here alone. With these people.

Family.

She left me here with my family.

I hadn't realized I whined until my father cracked his hand down on his desk with a fierceness. "What did I say about that shit?!"

"I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking."

"Not that she ever does, eh?" my brother Riley laughed, elbowing me in the ribs as he passed.

Riley was an interesting case of smells. There's the cedar which makes sense because he spends a lot of time outdoors, there's the sharpness of spearmint like a powerful gum that makes your nostrils burn and…boysenberry?

He and MacKenzie have been sharing again. Definitely not uncommon for those two.

"Close the doors. She's gonna scare all the betas away. I'm not waiting another round for Hunter to have an alpha son of his own."

"Keep the lineage alive." That's the pack motto. What a terrible fucking bumper sticker that would be.

I stood there, looking down at my toes as my father and Riley talked and laughed with one another. Probably forgetting I was even in the room. Which happens sometimes.

"Alright, little O?" Kenz cheered, entering the office.

"Don't call her that," my father snapped, finally remembering I was around.

MacKenzie held his hands up in a gesture to soothe any frayed nerves and he sat down with a groan on the couch closest to father's desk.

"Y/N," my father began, not even offering the kindness to look at me. "Your brothers and I are going on a business trip outside of the city. Some of your brothers, like MacKenzie, are staying back because they have a dinner meeting at the house while I'm away."

My head lifts in surprise. Will I be allowed to go?! Can I eat dinner with my brothers?!

"There's many alphas in the pack, we can kill two birds with one stone. This business meeting is incredibly important for us."

My smile was megawatt and I nodded instantly. "Sure, of course! I can–"

"You can," my father interrupted with a sneer. "Make sure you stay in your room, take your pills and keep your scent blocker applied when the Euphoria Pack comes to the meeting. This contract will be our biggest one so far and I will not have your omega bullshit fuck it up for the rest of us. Do you understand?"

The disappointment and sorrow that swirled through me almost knocked me off my feet. "Oh, I see… I understand."

"See that you do. I won't stand for losing this deal because you couldn't handle yourself."

God, I wanted to curl up and die. I'm so pitiful. What a fucking waste. I wish I was never born an omega.

Trying to bury whines and suffering hurt sometimes and in this instance it felt like a red hot poker was shoved down my throat.

"She stinks like sadness," Riley chuckled, shaking out his long brown hair and looking me over with disdain dripping from every pore.

"Lighten up, brother. She's only human," Kenz laughed, stepping in front of me and waving his hand behind his back.

Get out.

That's what he was telling me.

"Dinner will be brought up to you. If you're feeling hot then take your pills. We're leaving in the morning and we won't be back for a few weeks."

Oh, thank God, I could do without seeing my father and half of my brothers for weeks on end. Maybe finally I would be able to walk around without getting yelled at.

Three days of the freedom I thought I would be acquiring went by too fast. I'd been left with my brothers that were the easiest to deal with. Brady, Ronan, MacKenzie, Dash and Hunter were, of course, the easiest to deal with because they never nagged me and they were always too busy fucking betas to really give a shit what I was doing.

The house stunk of sex and carefree fun but more importantly it smelled of my freedom. I was able to go out in the garden to read, to sunbathe, to smell something that wasn't garbage. It was heavenly.

I'd seen flowers I've never seen before, ones that weren't there the last time I was in the gardens. Apparently Leticia, one of the pack chasers, suggested sprucing things up. When I suggested it to my father I got sent up to my room with no dinner and pills because I was acting 'out of order.' I'm a person not a goddamn machine. How could I possibly be out of order?

But now with the three days of freedom gone, I'm once again left up in my room without a single thing to do. Defiance curled in my bones and I narrowed my eyes at the white little pills on my bedside table.

My father wasn't here, he wouldn't know if I took them or not. I'd rather get a fever then take them and feel even sicker than before. Those pills made me nauseous and I felt like reality was so far out of touch that I'd never get back to it. I did end up spraying the scent blocker, though. Just one little spritz, just enough to save the visiting alphas downstairs from my monstrous odor.

They shouldn't be subjected to a disgusting omega. An embarrassment to the family.

The sprawling cabin estate was large before our eyes but it pales in comparison to the mansion we just created on the outskirts of the state.

"I don't like the smell," Jin murmured to us.

The smell was honestly horrific. These alphas seemed to stew in the scents of sex and their own pheromones. You could smell the female betas like they were throwing out a wide casting net to repulse everyone around them.

"Why the fuck did we agree to this?" Taehyung grumbled, folding his arms.

"Because although they're disgusting, they're rich as fuck and they have the land we need to start up the center," Namjoon replied evenly, fixing his tie.

I couldn't seem to take my eyes off the enlarged wooden cabin in front of us. That's exactly what it was: a large, gigantic wooden house. It would be almost comical if it wasn't very real.

"I don't even wanna touch the door," Hoseok hissed, taking to kicking the front door insead.

Even in this day and age everyone lives with the one soul purpose of finding their person, their omega but this pack didn't seem to care about finding one. Not with the way their lodgings smelled.

Now, of course, finding an omega that's right for your pack is like finding a unicorn or finding gold at the end of a rainbow but packs do it. Not all the time but enough to keep packs hopeful, at least.

Once the door swung open, a red headed alpha before us smiled widely. "Gents, welcome! The Pangborn Pack is happy to have you!"

Namjoon gave him his typical killer smile and the alpha seemed to relax at it. Our pack leader was all killer charm and easy going… until you fuck with his pack.

The seven of us have only had each other for quite a few years now and our family depends on one another more than most.

"Thank you for having us," Jimin smiled, stepping into the home first.

His eyes bounced around the interior before nodding. Once I stepped into the entryway behind him, the need to look at the inside faded. In the air, apart from the alpha scents were the scents of dinner and something so deliciously sweet that it made my mouth water.

Fuck! What is that smell?!

"Made us dessert?" Namjoon inquired with a laugh.

So he can smell that too.

The scent was warm and sugary like a fresh out of the oven sugar cookie with vanilla ice cream slowly melting on top.

Why the fuck was I about to nut over dessert?

Casting my eyes to Taehyung, I could see him tugging at the collar of his expensive dress shirt.

It was getting increasingly hot in here, that I could guarantee.

The scent was so thick and practically viscous I could feel it wrapping around my cock and tugging sensuously. My knot was two seconds from expanding and the desire to rut until I was sated was pressing indecently on my brain.

"No dessert here, lads. The betas can barely cook a steak without it burning! We ordered out for dinner tonight! Dinnae ken billionaires like you would be opposed to that, eh?"

"Dinnae ken means didn't think," another alpha offered, slipping in beside the redhead. His hair was long and brown, shaggy even with a boyish smile that could probably charm anyone he laid his eyes on.

"That sounds great," Jin replied, unbuttoning his suit jacket and cracking his neck.

Whatever that fucking scent is, it has us all by the balls.

Namjoon gripped his hand into a fist, eyes glazing over all of us. "To the dining room, then?"

"Getting right down to business! I love that! We have betas to look after anyway," Red chortled, wiggling his eyebrows at us.

When the group of us moved with the two other alphas, my heart started to hammer as the smell became stronger.

I tried to temper my growl that wormed its way up my throat but Joon caught it. "I don't know what it is but fuck, I want it so bad," he agreed.

"Alright there, lads?"

"Just have to use the restroom. Would you mind sending me in the right direction?" I inquired, needing to find the words through a thick haze of want.

"Bathroom on the first floor is occupied for the betas. Second floor up that staircase there," Red pointed to the staircase from where the scent is strongest. "Fifth door on the right."

With a nod, I set off trying not to falter and stumble from the exquisite smell.

"We'll be waiting in the dining room. The pack is excited to make this merger," the brown haired man smiled.

Once they were out of sight I took the stairs two at a time, eyes searching for any indication of where the scent came from.

I let my senses guide me. Following the smell took me past the bathroom and past any rooms that smelt of the alphas. Stopping at the end of the hallway, the door before me was completely different from the others. It was metal, almost sterile in a sense. But the scent was there, it was so heady and present that my cock stood to attention.

"Oh fuck," I grunted, shoving open the door and barreling up the stairs.

The hallway I rushed down was bare of anything home-y and it looks like some sort of clinical hospital ward.

The door at the other end suddenly opened in a flourish and the sweetest little thing I'd ever seen stepped out with curious, glazed eyes.

"Omega," I groaned long and low, stepping toward her.

She was the maddening scent. She was what my pack was going crazy over.

"Oh! I'm so… I've never–" the sweet thing whispered, looking me over with hunger.

The perfect woman. Right before my fucking eyes. Those lips, those sweet eyes, that adorable, if not a little scared smile, that fucking body. Built just for me and my other pack brothers.

Mine, mine, mine! Every cell in my body screamed it with frantic need.

"Why do you smell so good?" she whimpered, lifting a hand as if she wanted to touch me.

Please fucking touch me. Holy shit, I was going out of my fucking mind from this perfect little thing.

"What do I smell like, sweetness?" I inquired, stepping closer.

"Like warm hot chocolate and marshmallows. Not like garbage at all!" she gasped, looking up with wide, innocent eyes.

A laugh tumbled past my lips. What an innocent creature.

"Does everyone smell like garbage to you, sweetness?"

"I just want to…" she groaned, a whimper slipping past her lips.

A purr started in my chest, rattling my bones with how thick and heavy it was. Oh fuck, I'd never purred for anyone before.

"What do you want?" I asked softly, holding my hands up to show her I mean no harm.

She gripped my wrist with a dainty hand probably thinking it had a fierceness she didn't embody. She lifted my hand to her soft cheek and my purr started up once more.

"I'm so sorry," she apologized, not taking her eyes off mine. "I know omegas are disgusting. I shouldn't bother you."

The sweet purr she pulled from me turned to a growl in an instant. "You could never be disgusting. Omegas are precious. Didn't your alphas teach you that?"

She stared up at me, eyes starting to brim with tears.

Oh my God, she was everything I could have ever wanted. My pants were so fucking tight, my heart feels like it was gonna combust and I'm pretty damn sure I just met my fucking mate.

"They're not really my alphas," she whispered softly, keeping my wrist close to her nose.

I wanted to take this gorgeous woman and lock her away where no one but the pack can find her. Holy shit, my brain was turning to fucking mush.

"What are they then if not your alphas?" I asked, stepping closer.

When my chest brushed against hers, she perfumed the air for me and another purr ripped from my chest like it was an instrument being played purely for her.

"Brothers, father," she mumbled, lost in a haze of our own making.

"So you don't have a pack of your own, sweetness?" I whispered, coursing my thumb over her cheek.

"No one would want me. I'm useless," the omega replied so softly I might not have heard her if not for her keeping my attention ensnared.

"I highly doubt that, pretty girl. What's your name?"

"Y/N…"

Beautiful.

"I'm Jeongguk. It's nice to meet you, sweetness."

"I can't take it. I can't take it. I can't take it!" Jimin chanted, rushing into the hallway.

The omegas gasp was loud and frightened for only a moment until she laid eyes on the other alpha. I purred for her, watching her instantly relax at the noise.

"This is Jimin. He's a part of my pack. The Euphoria Pack."

"Oh no, I've…I've ruined dinner. My father will be so upset with me," she groaned, sounding not as upset as she probably would be if I wasn't purring up a fucking storm.

"Scent sympathetic. I thought it was like a fucking myth for people like us," Jimin laughed, stepping up beside me.

He didn't seem jealous or upset at all that my hands were on her. We've never tried for an omega, not really. Unfortunately, most omegas wanted us for our money and not for the connection. Not to mention most of the omegas we met smelled so cloyingly sweet that it gave us headaches for weeks. Most omegas wanted just some of us but not all of us and that doesn't bode well for a pack.

"You smell like calming tea and blueberries," Y/N breathed, blinking up at him.

"And you smell like a yummy dessert, sweetheart. How's such a pretty omega like you hidden up here away from everything?"

"Why are you being so nice to me? I'm just an omega," she whimpered, looking between us.

"'Just an omega'? Don't you know your worth, pretty girl?" I scoffed, tilting my head.

She opened her mouth to reply, only to shut it and furrow her eyebrows.

"I want to introduce her to the pack. I think this is it. I think we found our girl," Jimin beamed at me, allowing her to pull him closer.

She seemed to be a needy little thing. One we certainly wouldn't mind doting on. She also seemed completely out of touch with reality and it wasn't just because she was obsessed with our scents.

"Do you have a nest, sweetness? Would you care to show us?"

A nest is very sacred to omegas, it's one of the only places they can find comfort during heats and in times of stress. It was incredibly forward for me to ask but I wanted to know what she liked. I knew my hopes might be high but I wanted to set up the nest in the new mansion how she would like it. Because she was mine. She was ours. She belonged with us.

"I– What's a nest?" Y/N asked, eyebrows pinching innocently.

"Do not fucking tell me you're kept in the dark up here," Jimin growled deeply, his scent turning acidic.

Instead of turning tail and running, she started to… climb him?

She climbed him like a fucking tree. And the good looking bastard was all for it.

One arm snaked around her waist to keep her up and the other ran up and down her back in soothing motions.

She nuzzled his cheek and neck, whimpering and begging for his scent to be all over her.

"Good girl," Jimin cooed, purring for her. "Take what you want, sweetheart. We'll gladly give it."

There were rules to getting an omega, courting before mating and making sure your omega was happy and well looked after. In some cities omegas even went to Help Centers to find their perfect pack but Cypress City had no such thing. That was what we were trying to change. That was why we needed this deal with this pack.

"I don't know what's happening! I'm so sorry! I just feel so…"

"Overwhelmed?" Jimin offered, pulling back to look at her.

She nodded, whimpering and tucking her face into the crook of his neck.

"We need to talk to the pack," I told him, pressing my chest to her back and purring. I drifted the back of my hand over her bare arm and she seemed to thrive on not only praise but physical affection.

"I can't leave her," Jimin hissed over her shoulder, hugging her tighter at the thought of having to part.

"I don't want you to go! Please! I'm so tired of being alone! Please don't go!" she sobbed into his neck.

A growl ripped from my chest at her sadness and I was storming off before I even knew what was happening.

She's mine. She's mine. She's mine.

"Guk!" Jimin called but I was already barreling down the stairs with a fierceness building in my chest.

They kept that precious omega in a sterile fucking ward like she was some sort of disease. She didn't even know what a nest was! It was a disgrace! She'd been abused without even understanding anything!

She's mine!

If one more sob of hers entered my ears, I thought I might burn their oversized camp cabin down and dance on the embers.

Shoving open the dining room doors, I glowered at the pack that sat high and mighty at the end of the long dining room table. Once they saw me and smelled me, they all stood.

"Been wandering around our home, have you?" Red asked with the tilt of his head.

"Stupid girl can't do anything but get herself in trouble!" one of them sneered.

The insult made a growl rip from my throat and they all stared long and hard at me. I wouldn't stand for this. I couldn't stand for this.

"She doesn't even know what a fucking nest is. How dare you all treat an omega like this! This is abuse!" I boomed, widening my eyes at them.

My packs jaws fell open in shock and suddenly they were standing to surround me, to have my back.

"She's scent sympathetic with us," Jimin assured, entering the room with her still cradled to him.

I was happy she liked him. He's far more easy going and carefree then most of us and she'd enjoy his company.

My pack stepped toward her and she cried sweetly at all of their scents. They purred for her and my heart expanded. No one was left out and she locked eyes with all of them. She jumped ship from Jimin to Namjoon and he nuzzled her hair. He wrapped her legs around him like it was the most natural thing in the world.

"Would you like to leave this place, pet?" he inquired.

“She'll do no such thing!" Red boomed.

When she whimpered at the alpha bite, we growled in defiance.

"You think your bark is bad? Mine was given to me by the devil. If I have to force you to obey, I fucking will. It's the omegas choice. You can't keep her here like a fucking prisoner!" Joon boomed.

"She's not a part of the deal," one of the Pangborn's hissed through his teeth.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry," she gasped repeatedly, trying to set herself down.

"Do you want to get down, pet?" Namjoon asked, tilting her jaw to look up at him.

She reluctantly shook her head, burying her face back into his neck.

Oh fuck, she's so perfect and sweet.

"Then you stay exactly where you are," the pack leader whispered, giving her his wrist to be able to tilt his head and glower at the Pangborn pack.

"You expect me to pay? For a person?! Are you out of your small alpha minds?" Namjoon bit out, sneering at her brothers.

"MacKenzie… Dad is gonna flip," one of them breathed.

"I'm tired of always having to sneak Juliet around. Just be rid of her. Omegas are nothing but trouble."

Hoseok growled so loudly, something he never does, that it almost made my chest rattle.

"I know you don't know us very well," Seokjin breathed slowly as the other pack continued to argue. "But if you feel safe with us we'd like to take you somewhere you can be yourself and be happy. How does that sound, princess? You deserve much better than this shithole."

"I won't feel sick?" she inquired, looking up at him with hopeful eyes.

Oh, she's killing me here.

"Do you feel sick in this house?" Yoongi growled, narrowing his eyes at the other pack.

Her nod was slow and sad.

"I'm getting her out of here. Now!" Namjoon boomed, pressing her face into the scent gland of his neck.

She seemed to love being held. We could do that for her. We could give her anything and everything she wants. We could be good for her.

"Give us a million!" Red or MacKenzie called back but Namjoon was already heading for the door.

"Get fucked!" our pack leader growled.

"Wh-Where are we going?" Y/N asked, taking a deep breath of fresh air.

"Home, sweetness," I promised. "We're going home."

[dreamofbecoming]

ok fuck it context now on ao3

—

“I’m freaking out, man!”

“You’re what? Why? This is like, what you’ve been waiting for, isn’t it?”

“I mean, yeah, dude, but now it’s here, it’s happening, and tomorrow it’ll be done and I can’t take it back!”

“Do you want to take it back? Because I think that’s a terrible idea, but if it’s really what you want, I’ll sneak you out the back right now.”

Dustin deflates a little, slumping into the plush chair this weird little church greenroom was nice enough to provide. “No, I don’t want to leave. Of course I don’t.”

Steve puts his hands on Dustin’s shoulders, not massaging, just resting. He doesn��t want to smear too much of his scent onto him before the ceremony, but old habits die hard. Steve suspects he’s always going to want to scent the kids for comfort, even though they’re literally all grown and starting families of their own and don’t need their old omega babysitter anymore.

Case in point, Dustin’s wedding is meant to start in, oh, looks like about 25 minutes, so Steve has to smooth this crisis over double time.

“What’s really bothering you, Dust? You were over the moon yesterday, and the day before that, and every day since you and Susie proposed to each other. Hell, every day since you met! What’s going on now?”

There’s a pause, which is always unsettling coming from Dustin, who hasn’t shut up for more than twelve consecutive minutes in the decade plus Steve has known him, but then he sighs.

“She wants kids.”

Steve’s brow furrows. “And you…don’t?”

Dustin huffs, frustration rising in his scent. “It’s not that I don’t, it’s that I don’t know if it’s a good idea, you know?”

“And you guys haven’t talked about this before now? You’ve been together for like eleven years, dude!”

“We have, of course we have! I’m just thinking about the risks, Steve! I’m a beta, I can’t carry her pups, and pregnancies are dicey for alpha females! What if something happens?”

“First of all don’t call women females, it’s weird. Erica or Nance will definitely smack you for that, and you don’t need a black eye in your wedding photos.” Dustin nods, cringing a little.

“Second, pregnancy isn’t the only option, man, and also it’s her decision. If she wants to carry them, that’s a discussion you need to have with her, but you can’t just shut her down about it. She knew you were a beta when she decided to marry you. She picked you because she loves you, don’t go deciding for her she’s better off with someone else. And besides, if you decide it doesn’t feel right for both of you, you can talk about adoption, or surrogacy, or…I don’t know what all the options are, but I bet there’s tons! Hell, I’d carry for you guys, if you wanted.”

“You would?” Dustin’s eyes get big and shiny almost immediately, and shit, Steve’s gotta shut this down now. The groom can’t be going out there with red eyes and tear stains, Susie will murder Steve on principle.

But he can’t lie to Dustin. Swore he never would, not when it mattered. “Course I would, man, what’s family for? Aw hell, kid, don’t cry, your mate will run me over with her car if your photos are fucked up because of me.”

“I just- I can’t believe you’d do that for me! You don’t even know if I’ll be any good at it!”

Ah, so that’s what this is really about.

“Of course you’ll be good at it, Henderson. You’d be an incredible dad, any kid would be lucky to have you. I mean, your kids are gonna turn out to be nerd city, but that was always a given.”

Dustin gives him a bitchy little eye roll, which was of course Steve’s aim. He still smells anxious, though.

“How can you be sure, though? It’s not like I have any idea what a dad is supposed to be like, you know? It’s why I kept latching onto older male figures, no offense to you and Eddie.”

Little shit. “You should be so lucky, you little twerp.”

Dustin shoves him away, but he’s grinning now, and his scent is slowly returning to the lemon-bright joy that colors it so often Steve just associates it with Dustin’s base scent at this point, so he’ll take the win.

“You really wanna know how I know you’ll make a great dad, Dustybun?”

“Don’t fucking call me that, today’s supposed to be my day!”

“I’m your best man, I’ll call you whatever I want. Seriously though, I have a story for you.”

“A story, huh? I don’t know, Eddie’s more the storyteller in your relationship…”

“I’m gonna go out there and tell your bride to delay the ceremony because you shat your slacks and need new ones, you menace.”

“Okay, okay!” Dustin laughs. “Tell your story.”

“I was gonna put this in my speech later, but I think you need to hear it now, and honestly it might be more about me than you, and I don’t want to steal the spotlight or anything.”

“Not worried about that, but I’m intrigued.”

“You know how when you’re a kid, you learn how to pick out emotion scents by context clues, from like your family and stuff?”

Dustin lifts an unimpressed eyebrow. “Yes, Steve, I’m aware of one of the foundational tenets of our society, which we all personally experienced.”

“Almost fifteen years I’ve known you, and your attitude hasn’t improved one bit, you know that?”

Dustin waves imperiously for him to continue. Steve glares at him, but they really are running short on time.

“You ever know a kid who had like, a gap? Some feeling they had never run into before, so they didn’t know what the smell meant?” Dustin shakes his head, looking curious.

“There was this girl in my class when we were like, seven? Eight? Something like that. Anyway, she borrowed Tommy’s favorite eraser, one of those animal-shaped ones with the faces printed on? He loved that thing. The girl, Cassie, she broke it, by accident. Tommy lost his shit. I’d never seen him so angry. And like, you know how little kids emotions don’t really come through that strong? He smelled like, grown-up angry. Filled the whole room. Freaked the teacher out, too. Everyone’s backing the hell up out of Tommy’s way, even me. But Cassie was just confused. Because no adult in her life had ever been truly angry around her, so she hadn’t learned what it smelled like yet.”

Dustin is listening avidly, looking gratifyingly similar to how he does when Eddie DMs.

“Anyway, Tommy slapped her so hard it left a bruise, got his dumb ass suspended. But I just remember being so jealous, you know? Can you imagine? Eight years old and never knew what anger smelled like. Hell, at that point anger was just what home smelled like to me.”

Aw shit, now Dustin just smells sad.

“Do you remember when I drove you to the Snow Ball?”

Dustin’s got his thinking face on now, trying to figure out why Steve keeps jumping all over the place. Sue him, he’s no Eddie.

He nods anyway.

“Before you got out of the car, when I told you I’d come back to pick you up, you gave me this huge smile, and the car filled up with something I’d never smelled before. Not really, anyway. Maybe like, in passing, you know? Like in the hallway at school, but always faint and never towards me, so I never focused on it.”

Dustin’s eyebrows are totally scrunched up now, little genius brain whirring away. Goddamn brat never had any patience.

“I didn’t ask about it, because I wasn’t sure it was important, and also a little because I felt like enough of a caveman around you little rocket scientist dweebs I didn’t need you explaining feelings to me too, but I kept smelling it from you after that. And from El, and a little from Lucas and Max and even once from your mom, but it was just confusing, you know? I couldn’t figure out what was causing it, so I had no context clues to figure out what it meant.

“And then at Starcourt, after Robin and I went to go puke up those Russian drugs—”

“Ditched me and Erica who were very responsibly trying to wrangle you, you mean.”

“Tomato, tomahto, kid. Anyway, I told her I had a crush on her and she panicked and came out to me, so I switched to making fun of her crush so she would know I was okay with it, and suddenly there was that smell again. First time I ever smelled it coming from her. So after everything was done, I asked her.”

“Oh, so you’ll ask her, but not me? Hurtful, Steve.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Yeah, shithead, because Robbie already knew I was a moron, and she was never gonna want to go out with me, so I didn’t need to impress her. I could look stupid to Rob back then, but I still wanted you guys to think I was cool.”

“Steve, buddy, my brother, my best friend, my favorite jock please don’t tell Lucas I said that, we literally never thought you were cool.”

“Now who’s being hurtful?”

“Just the truth, Munson. I tell it like it is.”

“Ugh, whatever. The point is, I asked Bobbie what she felt for me in that bathroom, and she told me that’s when she realized she would love me forever. That we were going to be best friends.”

Dustin looks stricken.

“That’s what I was smelling all that time. Honey. That’s what I smelled in the car in the Hawkins Middle parking lot. You loved me. You were literally the first person in my whole life who ever did.”

“Steve—”

“This isn’t—look, I know it’s kind of sad and pathetic for kid Steve, but this isn’t about that. It’s not about me, okay? It’s about how my whole life turned around the day Dustin Henderson decided he loved me, because he never stopped. Not for a single second of the last thirteen years, and because you loved me then, I have a platonic soulmate and a horde of little siblings and a mate I adore and more friends than I can count on all my fingers and toes! You’re the one who encouraged me to go to cosmetology school, you’re the one who introduced me to Eddie, you’re the one who stood by me and let me crash on your mom’s couch when my parents kicked me out. My life is full of love, and joy, and purpose, and it all started with you, Dustin. I’m here because you loved me, and because once you started loving me you never stopped. I have smelled honey on you every single day since the 1984 Snow Ball, and that’s how I know you’ll be an incredible father. Because if you have all that love for a washed up ex-jock omega nobody had ever loved before? You’ll have all that and more times a million for any kid lucky enough to call you Dad.”

They’re both crying by now. Susie is gonna kill them for sure, but as Dustin buries himself in Steve’s arms like he’s still six inches shorter, Steve decides it doesn’t matter. This is worth it.

There’s a knock at the door, just in time it seems.

“Dingus, baby Dingus, you in there? T minus 5 minutes, boys, stick those feet in the oven if you gotta!”

“Yeah, Bobs, I hear you! We’ll be out in a sec, no cold feet in sight.”

“Roger that, bubba! I’ll inform the bride!” He can hear her racing off, probably dancing with pre-wedding excitement. For a cynical lesbian who has a new girlfriend every month and swears marriage is an archaic institution built on misogyny and omegaphobia, she sure does love weddings.

“You ready, kid?”

Dustin has taken the brief interlude as an opportunity to splash his face with water from the sink in the corner, so he doesn’t look like he’s been crying to into Steve’s shoulder, but Steve makes sure to straighten his tie and finger comb his curls back into place.

“Yeah, I think I’m ready.” He looks at Steve for a long moment, then throws his arms around him one last time. “I’m really glad you’re my brother, Steve.”

Steve squeezes him tighter for a moment, breathing in the familiar scent of lemon and cut grass and honey. Of family. Of love.

“Yeah, kid. Me too.”

[gwaynesprincess]

Corruption - Chapter Two

Summary: You sneak out to the Street of Silk, unaware of the perils that wait for you there. Upon realizing that you are not in your chambers, your brothers decide to search for you. 

Content: NSFW, incest, attempted rape, groping, brothels, sex workers, depictions of sex acts, murder

Words: 3.2K

Note: I implore you to read the content warnings. Thank you to @darktrashsoulbear for being my beta! 💚

The day seemed to drag on forever. Finally, night fell and it was time for you to sneak out. After eating dinner, you told your mother that you had a headache and excused yourself to your chambers. Once you had closed the doors to your room, you quickly hurried over to your vanity, where you had stashed a shirt, a pair of trousers, a cap, and a pair of leather boots that you had procured earlier that day. These new clothes were rough, far more rough than the silken gowns that you were accustomed to. You quickly removed your dress, slip, and stockings, replacing them with the clothing of the smallfolk. You were careful to tuck your blonde locks into the cap, not wanting anyone to recognize you, for it would be scandalous if a princess were discovered in a brothel. 

Once you were confident that you could slip through the city unnoticed, you grabbed a small pouch of coins and crept over to your door. “Ser Rickard?” 

The knight stood on the other side of your doors, guarding your chambers, as he did every night. “Princess? What is the matter?” 

“I would like some lemon cakes,” you said lightly. “Could you please fetch me a plate?” 

Ser Rickard sighed. “Princess, that is not my charge.” 

“Please?” you begged, praying that the knight’s gentle affection for you would win out. “Please, Ser Rickard? Could you at least fetch a handmaiden who could bring me some?” 

He hesitated for a moment, then chuckled. “I suppose, Princess. I shall return in a moment.” 

“Thank you, Ser Rickard,” you said. You hoped that he would not be upset upon discovering your deception, but you would rather sneak away than order him to leave. You listened carefully, excitement swirling in your stomach as his footsteps faded. 

Once you were certain that he was gone, you quickly slipped out of your chambers, dashing down the corridor as the doors closed behind you. With any luck, you would have an easy time sneaking out of the Red Keep. You smiled as you hurried through the stone hallways, eager to discover the truth about your feelings for your brothers. 

–

When Aegon approached your chambers, he was surprised to discover that Ser Rickard Thorne was no longer standing outside of your room. He was also rather irritated to see Aemond also approaching. “Brother,” he said flatly, hoping that his tone conveyed his displeasure. 

Aemond hummed in response. “What brings you here, Aegon? ‘Tis no doubt the urge to defile our sister.” 

Aegon smirked. “Bold words coming from you. Mother may not be aware of your desires, but I know that you covet our sweet sister.” Aemond’s expression was perfectly still, almost as though it were carved from stone. Aegon had always secretly believed that a statue of his brother would be magnificent, though he would never tell a soul. 

“I came to check on her,” Aemond said coolly. “She fell ill at dinner.” 

Aegon rolled his eyes. “I am well aware, as I, too, am here to check on her.” He observed his brother, watching Aemond catch his meaning: both of them were there for the same reason, and they would both insist that reason was innocent even though it most certainly was not. 

Aemond fixed his brother with a cold look. “Yet I do not trust your intentions with her.” 

Aegon snorted. “You may refrain from indulging in her because of your fucking honor, but I promise that I have my own reasons, and my resolve is as firm as yours.” Of course, his resolve was waning. He found himself wanting you more and more with each passing moment, and he needed something to temporarily satisfy himself. He was desperate to touch you, even if it would be innocent and not in the manner that he truly desired. But now, Aemond was getting in his way of even some small relief. 

To his surprise, his brother seized him and pinned him to the stone wall, anger marking his face. “And that,” Aemond hissed, “is exactly why I do not trust you. My resolve hangs by a thread.” 

Aegon giggled at his brother’s outrage. “It must be so difficult for you, struggling to maintain your proper air when all you desire is to bury your cock in our little sister’s cunt.” 

“You have no idea what I feel for her,” Aemond snarled. “It is beyond your comprehension. I want more than to fuck her, because I care for her in ways that you will never understand.” 

“You misjudge me, Brother,” Aegon spat. “You and every other person who lives, you all believe that I think only with my cock. I care for her as well, for she is the only pure being in this wretched world.” 

Aemond’s grip relaxed as a pained look spread across his face. “And neither of us will ever have her,” he said quietly, “for she will be married off to and defiled by some lord in order to ensure our family’s survival.” 

“‘Tis agony,” Aegon said lowly. “I desire her so, but I cannot bring myself to take her. I spend every waking moment thinking of her, desperate for any affection that she can bestow upon me, even if it be only platonic.” 

Aemond hummed, expressing that he shared the same feelings. “I know that she cannot give me what I yearn for, so I take comfort in doting on her instead. She is precious to me, even if she does not understand my twisted desires.” 

Aegon sighed. Speaking with his brother made him feel better and worse at the same time. At least someone shared his pain, but it was becoming borderline unbearable to exist without being able to tell you what he felt for you. He glanced at the doors to your chambers. “Perhaps we could merely check on her. Though I suppose she is likely either asleep or well aware that we are out here, squabbling like children.” 

Aemond smiled thinly, raising his fist and knocking gently on the wood. When there was no response, he frowned and tried again, more firmly this time. 

A thin mist of worry clouded Aegon’s mind as he also knocked. “Sister?” he called. 

No response. Aemond hummed darkly as he glanced up and down the corridor. “Ser Rickard ought to be here, yet he is not.” 

Aegon fiddled with the doors for a moment, then abandoned subtlety and opened them. He half expected Aemond to protest something about it being improper, but his younger brother entered your chambers without a word, clearly placing a higher value on your protection than on propriety. 

Your chambers were deserted, the dress and stockings that you had worn that day lying on the chair near your vanity. Aemond quickly approached them, tracing his fingers over the fabric. “Still warm,” he said lowly. “She has been here recently.” 

Aegon glanced at the screen where you usually changed your clothes. “And yet her sleeping gown is still here.” 

The brothers exchanged a look, then swiftly headed for the doors to your chambers. They did not know where you had gone, but they certainly intended to find out. 

–

Even from outside the brothel, you could hear an erotic slew of noises. Still, the sounds could not sufficiently prepare you for the sight that you were met with when you entered the establishment. Everywhere you looked, naked bodies writhed about, shamelessly embracing the pleasure that consumed them. 

Suddenly, a delicate hand landed on your shoulder. You turned quickly; in front of you, glancing at you through hooded eyes, was a woman barely clad in a skimpy silk gown. “May I be of service to you, my lord?” she asked lowly, her voice dripping with lust. Your eyes widened in surprise; she gasped, evidently recognizing you. “Apologies, Princess!” she said hurriedly. 

You shook your head quickly, desperate to keep your identity secret. “No!” you whispered. “No one may know that I am here!” 

She glanced around, her pale gray eyes twinkling as an amused smirk reached her lips. “Princess, this is hardly the place for a lady who wishes to be discreet. It is also certainly not the place for a princess.” 

Your face burned at her words. Perhaps your disguise was not as good as you had thought. But if you would not be able to discreetly observe the carnal actions of others, maybe she would be able to aid you. “There are things that I need to know,” you said nervously, “things which I do not understand.” 

She arched her brow at you, clearly understanding the meaning behind your words. “If that be your wish, Princess, then follow me.” 

You anxiously fiddled with your hands as you followed her through the pleasure house. All around you, there were incomprehensible things being done. You saw a woman on her knees, sucking a man’s cock as he pushed it down her throat. There was a man busily thrusting into a woman, her legs thrown over his shoulders in what must have been a painful position. Two men shared a woman, one busily fucking her cunt while the other took her arse. And finally, there was a woman writhing around, a man’s head buried between her thighs. You did not understand how these people knew to act like this, nor how they felt such evident pleasure, as it was etched on their faces as they screamed in bliss. 

Finally, the woman led you into a secluded corner of the brothel. She pulled a curtain back, revealing another woman, one who was clearly busy entertaining a young man. Your eyes were wide as you took in the way that she gently swished her hips, pulling the young man closer and closer to the embrace of pleasure. When she realized that she was being interrupted, she glanced in your direction. “Saera, I shall be with you shortly. This young man has paid well, and I intend to make the most of his time.” 

The woman next to you, Saera, took a step forwards, her ink-black hair a long curtain down to her waist. “Madame Sylvi, I’m afraid that it is urgent. We have company.” 

Madame Sylvi glanced at you again, realization striking her as she quickly dismounted the young man. “Apologies, Princess,” she said, picking up a robe to cover herself. “How may we be of service?” 

You stared at the young man, who was writhing about in apparent distress, his cock swollen and hard between his legs. You had seen a cock before, having grown up in the Red Keep, but it was different to see one now. He looked like he was in pain, and it reminded you of the way that you would ache between your legs if you spent too long alone with your brothers. 

Madame Sylvi followed your gaze to the young man. “Saera, see that he is taken care of.” Saera nodded, escorting him out of the room, leaving you alone with the madame. “What can I do for you, Princess?” You nervously fidgeted. Perhaps this wasn’t such a good idea. You had no idea how to explain the situation, and what if your mother somehow found out that you were here? “Do you seek a lover?” The madame asked, gesturing for you to sit down. “I have several young men who could tend to your needs. Or women, if you prefer.” You recoiled at her suggestion; she laughed. “Or not.” 

“I do not want a lover,” you said stiffly. You knew that your maidenhead was extremely valuable, as your hand was coveted by several lords. “I-I do not know what I want.” 

She studied you, her gaze curious. “Do your brothers know that you are here?” 

“No!” you said quickly. “They cannot know!” 

She pursed her lips. “It is dangerous for you to be here alone. I cannot guarantee your safety, Princess. You ought to have asked them to accompany you here, as they both know their way around.” 

You blinked in surprise. You knew that Aegon frequented the Street of Silk, but Aemond? He was usually so reserved, always careful to be the perfect son, the dutiful contrast to Aegon’s indulgences. “Aemond comes here?” 

An unreadable look crossed the madame’s face. “They both frequent this establishment, although your eldest brother is known to visit other brothels as well.” She smiled thinly. “The eldest prince is known to favor bastards with pale hair, not unlike your own.” 

Your cheeks warmed at the thought. Was it possible that he was imagining that the whores he fucked were you? “I did not know,” you said, not meeting her gaze. 

“Your other brother stares at them as well, though he does not partake,” she continued. “But his…desires…are far different than would be expected.” 

You frowned. “What does that mean?” 

She shook her head. “The secrets of my trade are not to be freely shared, even with you, Princess.” She smiled thinly. “All that you need to know is that both of your brothers are skilled lovers, though their unique taste for affection would discourage many.” 

A strange feeling settled in your stomach at the thought of your brothers engaging in carnal acts with women. What did she mean when she said that they are skilled? Wasn’t intercourse supposed to be dreadfully painful for the woman? Helaena’s fear had led her to become a septa, and you were well aware of your mother’s dislike of lying in her marital bed. You squeezed your legs together, attempting to dissuade the ache that was beginning to settle between your thighs. “I do not understand,” you said, shame burning your cheeks as you met Madame Sylvi’s gaze. “When you say that my brothers are skilled, what does that mean? Do they reproduce successfully?” Perhaps that was what she meant, that both of your brothers were highly capable of impregnating women. 

A smile formed on the madame’s lips. “Oh, you innocent thing. Do you not know what it is to be satisfied? Are you incapable of tending to the ache between your thighs?” You gasped in surprise. How did she know? She laughed. “And you crave your brothers, do you not?” Shame burned your cheeks as you slowly nodded. “Though the appeal of your Targaryen customs is lost on me, I do imagine that you will soon be extremely well-satisfied.” 

Suddenly, the curtain was pulled back, revealing Saera once again. “Madame Sylvi, they are here. Both of them.” 

The madame smiled at you. “Perhaps you will be satisfied even sooner than I had anticipated.” She rose and began to follow Saera out of the room, turning to close the curtain. “Wait here, Princess.” 

Anticipation buzzed inside of you. Were your brothers here? Were they going to tend to the horrible ache between your thighs, which was worsening with every passing minute? You clenched your legs again as you stared at the walls, which were covered in murals depicting various sinful acts. In one, a man’s head was buried between a woman’s thighs. Was he kissing her down there? What in the Seven Hells could be pleasurable about that? 

The curtain opened with a swish, and you turned, eager to see your brothers. But it was not your brothers who stood there, nor was it Madame Sylvi or Saera. 

“What do we have here?” the man slurred, smelling strongly of wine. “A little princess, all lost and alone?” He stumbled towards you, drunkenly clambering on top of you. 

You quickly pushed him away, scrambling to the edge of the bed. “Please, do not touch me.” 

Fear began to seep into your heart as he laughed. “And who will stop me?” He grabbed your leg, his grip bruising, and dragged you towards him. You tried to kick him, only for him to easily bat your foot away and lie down on top of you, his weight crushing you as you froze in terror. “Princess’ maidenhead, perhaps the most valuable cunt in the Realm,” he mused, burying his face in your neck and licking your skin. 

Your senses came rushing back to you at the gross sensation of his tongue and you screamed, thrashing about and desperately trying to get him off of you. “Please!” you sobbed. “Please, do not hurt me!” 

Tears spilled out of your eyes as he laughed cruelly, bringing a hand to your chest and roughly groping your breasts. “Nobody will hear you scream, Princess.” You couldn’t breathe, nor could you think. You desperately needed him to stop touching you, but he was far stronger than you were. You screamed again; he clamped one hand over your mouth as the other began to work the laces of your trousers. “Shut the fuck up,” he spat; you bit his hand. He snarled in pain, then harshly smacked you across the face. “You fucking whore.” 

Suddenly, the curtains were wrenched open. You burst into sobs at the sight of Aegon and Aemond, terrified that they would be angry with you. The man scrambled off of you, but you already knew that any apology he could conjure up would be futile. You tearfully crawled away from him, whimpering as Aegon hurried to your side. “Fucking kill him,” your brother snarled, pulling you into his arms as you sobbed. “Oh, sweet sister,” he whispered, his tone far gentler as he slowly pulled off your cap and began to stroke your hair. 

“I’m sorry,” you sobbed, desperately clutching at Aegon’s doublet. “I’m so sorry.” 

He gently shushed you, rocking your trembling body. “‘Tis alright, for you are safe now. All is well.” 

Aemond appeared on your other side, hesitantly taking your hand. “Aegon is right,” he said quietly. “You are safe now. Nothing bad will happen to you, so long as you are with us.” 

You nodded slowly, sniffling and squeezing Aemond’s hand, which was wet and sticky. You glanced at it, confused, then gasped when you realized that it was coated in blood. “Aemond, are you hurt?” you asked, panic returning to you. 

He smiled thinly. “No. But ‘tis sweet of you to ask.” 

You glanced over his shoulder, a strange sense of peace settling over you when you saw the lifeless, bloody remains of the other man. “You killed him for me,” you said, your voice faint. 

Aemond gently cupped your face in his large hands. “Oh, sweet sister. For you, I would do much more than kill a man.” He glanced at Aegon, then back to you. “We both would.” 

A lovely warm feeling bloomed in your chest at his words. Your brothers cared deeply for you, that much was evident. You hoped that they also desired you, as you were now quite confident that you desperately longed for them to do horribly sinful things to you. You had always loved them as your brothers, but now, as Aegon picked you up and carried you out of the brothel with Aemond at his side, hand on the hilt of his sword, you wondered if your affection had always been a repressed form of depraved adoration.

[evolnoomym]

2. Million Dollar Man

Sugar-Daddy!Joel Miller x f!OC

General Masterlist | “Runaway Butterfly 🦋” Masterlist | Support me |

Summary: A look at your daily routine, a little friend gets introduced, 1st Date jitters and Joel Miller enters the game.

Rating: 18+ explicit content mdni!!!!

Word count: 3.5 k

Warnings: no y/n, f!reader, working out, pills (Silica), mentions of eating, struggles to eat in front of others, shaving, allusions to sa, Mommy issues, panic attack, alcohol consumption, weed consumption, flirting, bantering, Moon is not a blank slate (sorry)

If I missed anything please let me know 🙏🏻

Authors note: Here we go Chapter 2 for y’all, I hope you enjoy 🩵

Shoutout to @saradika-graphics & @cafekitsune for the dividers 🫶🏻

Big thank you to @lady-bess for beta reading 🫂🌙

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so if you come across mistakes it might be due to that. I’m totally here for constructive criticism or feedback on how to improve. In general I appreciate comments, likes and reblogs greatly 👌🏻

It was a normal day for you just the same as always. Waking up at around 9 am, you continue to roll around for another hour slowly getting more acclimated with being up, until you decide it’s time. Sitting on the edge for a moment you roll your shoulders and lightly stretch that aching back of yours, the most will be dealt with later.

The first thing after swapping your sleeping gown with a black cotton camisole and some black cozy shorts, is to make your bed. It's a routine, almost always exactly the same as a way to feel secure, it brings you comfort. You start by shaking out the three blankets, two regular sized and one large blanket. One after another, followed by all your pillows, which at this point must be in the double digits region. You like to practically swaddle yourself. Next you meticulously put the pillows at their designated places and after folding the blankets those get the same treatment. One final sweep of your hand to even out some creases and it’s on to the next step.

Every night before going to sleep you prepare a tall glass of water alongside two Silica supplement pills on your dresser across from your bed, downing them is the next step of the routine. Afterwards it’s time for some plant caretaking which consists of checking if any of your baby’s produced a new leaf or need some water. Since you spent the entirety of yesterday, from morning to evening watering all of them, they are in perfectly healthy condition.

Though your most treasured plant, the monstera deliciosa, gets a little extra attention, you take her out onto the tiny balcony attached to the bedroom and generously spray each leaf with water. Maybe it does nothing but you’d like to believe that the effort is appreciated and repaid by continually birthing bigger and bigger sliced leafs. She gets to soak up the water, enjoy the fresh air as you leave the door open to also get some air flowing throughout the room and once the bedroom opens the rest of the tiny apartment.

You slip on your black loafers, take the empty glass, your iPhone and go to the kitchen which is situated outside your bedroom on the left. You have one of those pearl curtains attached to the wood panel above the walkthrough. It's oldschool and sometimes a little inconvenient but you like the beautiful blue colors it adds. You reach up into the cupboard for a shot glass which gets filled with a horrific tasting immune shot, a concoction of turmeric, ginger, lemon, orange and apple juice - burns like hell on the way down but at least it’s supposed to be good for you.

You down another glass of water immediately after which soothes your esophagus, it washes away any bitter taste left and when you brush your teeth the overpowering minty taste does the rest.

Karl Jr. -your beautiful black fur baby- would then get his breakfast served. Followed by some more morning stretches as well as a watered down version of your usual evening workout routine to help your back pain be less severe. Once your done it’s quite calming to just sit on the rolled out yoga mat placed in front of the open balcony door, you enjoy to feel the breeze passing over your face along with the early morning sun rays, it’s peaceful.

If it would be just an ordinary day you would now sit at the tiny desk in your living room with your grinder and long papers, preparing a morning j, which after smoking would be followed by breakfast.

But today is different. You have a “Date”. Well it might not be the right word to describe the occasion but a business meeting sounds too formal for a walk through the nearby park.

“Joel Miller wants to meet you”, that’s what the message read that was atomically sent by the Sugar-Daddy website and after some rather tame exchange of words with him it was decided to meet up in person. He suggested a restaurant but you declined that offer quickly, eating in front of him and most of all eating with so many people surrounding you, watching you, judging you? No that would be uncomfortable, so you pitched the idea of walking through the park just a short 15 min walk from your apartment. The two of you decided to meet at 3 pm, at the entrance of the park and go from there.

Through some weird intuition you luckily had taken a “everything” shower yesterday, before going to bed. You spend 2 hours scrubbing every nook and cranny on your body, shaving your legs and armpits. It was just a meet up so there was no reason to go crazy on your downstairs area, you didn’t plan on taking him home. Besides you were never one for taking the other person to bed on the first meeting, not that you didn’t try, you did. Seeing everyone around you having those casual encounters with no trouble, made you think you had to do the same and be like them. To feel like you fit in that’s what you tried, but it never went past some awkward kisses, they would try for more which you always brushed off as it just didn’t feel right and that’s where it would end.

You wondered why casual hookups never worked out until one day you did. Dating became less important after those discoveries, you could not open up that way anymore, it always felt like playing a character, pretending to be something you’re not.

A facade can only be kept for so long until it all falls apart or they discover the truth and they always do. The last date you went on was almost 2 years ago and the last time you had sex was at 17 which was losing your virginity to him. Now looking back it makes sense why you couldn’t be like the others.

Even in the 8 months of living here you did not make moves to really meet anyone on a romantic or platonic level. Well except Theresa your neighbor, she’s the only friend you made since moving here. She is 34 years old, single -which you don’t understand as she’s very gorgeous- and has two cats.Theresa takes care of you in the form of making sure you get up, eat and don’t succumb to the pressure in your mind. Almost like a Mother would.

Sitting at your make up table you decided on a simple makeup look, just a bit concealer, blush, bronzer, mascara and peach gloss. Of course you also wear your favorite jewelry set containing moon shaped earrings and a necklace with a moon pendant. Gifted by Theresa after she learned of your fondness for the moon and the story surrounding your name.

Next up was the outfit, which again, was not anything special. A black tank top, flowy black pants and well worn black converse. Before leaving you put on your vanilla perfume and mango scented body spray.

After locking your own door you stop at Theresa‘s apartment door, raise your right hand, knock and wait. She opens up appearing to have just woken up.

“Do I look okay?”

You do a twirl on wobbly knees.

“You look more than okay sweetheart,” she gives you one of her rare soft smiles “I know you’re nervous but you got this,yeah?”

“I got this,” deep breath in and out “I’m okay and I got this.” You reaffirm.

“Atta girl, if he does anything weird I’ll come get you and rip his balls off.” She’s joking but you know she would do it for you.

“I’m sure one day you’ll get the chance to live out this little dreams of yours, but this guy actually seems nice.”

You quickly glance down at your phone, realizing you have to get going you say goodbye to Theresa.

“Shit, I gotta go or else I’ll be late. I’ll talk to you later okay?”

“Of ‘course go get him kiddo, you better tell me everything later. Be careful, yeah?”

As you are already almost halfway down the stairs you exclaim a loud affirmative yes.

Off you go.

The park is unusually crowded for a Sunday afternoon. A bunch of kids are loudly playing on the playground near by and there’s a baby crying in its stroller alongside the mother trying to quickly soothe her baby. People are walking by having their own conversations. You can hear cars driving around and occasionally a honk. It’s overwhelming, so many things happening at once and you’re immediately reminded of why you avoid going outside.

Today however all these people are also a protection shield in case something goes wrong. You’re more careful these days than back then, you learned from what happened.

To say you’re nervous would be an understatement,no, not even smoking before leaving helped to calm you down. These tricks may have helped you then but now it’s a different story.

You remember that day years ago vividly, it was supposed to be the second date with the significantly older police apprentice which inevitably would also be the last time seeing him. The plan beforehand was to meet friends at the park, there you would hang out, smoke weed and drink cherry liqueur to make yourself more pliant before getting picked up by that man. It was so stupid, he drove so far away to a lake and by the time you got there it was already dark. So much could’ve happened. He set up a Picnic, with strawberries and a whole bottle of wine for you to finish on your own, which you did. Back then you fortunately still had your luck, nothing bad happened and he just drove you back home after not getting into your pants.

Sitting on this bench now feels just like 6 years ago. Even though now it might be worse you’re shaking and the air leaves you in panicked little huffs. The ringing in your ears gets steadily louder, black spots are clouding your vision and the pressure forces you to close your eyes. That’s when you hear it, a voice, a deep octave fighting its way through the ringing.

“S’cuse me, Hello Darlin’ I thin…-“ he doesn’t even get to finish his sentence before you immediately shoot up from the bench coming to a halt right before him. That spurt of energy however didn’t last long, almost immediately you feel your legs giving out and you would’ve collapsed weren’t it for those big strong hands gripping your shoulders to keep you from falling.

“Woahh hold ‘ya horses darlin easy, breathe ‘kay, in an out…can you do tha’ for me?” his voice makes you open your eyes to see nothing but a very nice lookin yellow Lakers shirt. You couldn’t lift your head up just yet. Instead you wanted to try to make this less embarrassing “I-I…I’m okay, ughh” a wheezing sound left you, breathing so much after basically slowly suffocating was a bit derailing. You wanted to open your mouth again to say something but he cut you off “No, Shhh, just breathe don’t worry but anythin’ right now.”

And that you did, after approximately 5 minutes which felt like lifetime you felt good enough to finally look at him. Now you felt breathless for an entirely different reason, that being the tall Texas glass of water right in front of you. His hair was nicely combed back, he wore thick black glasses, a gorgeous smile peeking at you from under his mustache and the best thing, his hands were still on your shoulders even though his grip got softer.

After looking him up and down you just stared at his face and probably looked like a fish out of water with your gasping at a rapid speed. The whole situation caught up with you, making you take a step back. His hands slide down your arms till he no longer touches you. Shanking your head you started to apologize “I’m so sorry, this so embarrassing..-fuck I’m really sorry you had to witness this.”

He just looks at you like you said something ridiculous “Darlin’ you don’t need to apologize for havin a panic attack or anythin. Alright?”

“Yeah you’re right, thank you, for helping with the breathing and stuff.” You nod

“Don’t mention it, you wanna sit down again or-?”

“No need to sit down again, moving around is probably the best, there’s a pond just a short walk from here. It’s a little more secluded,” you look around “, than here.”

He nods “You lead the way M’lady,” giving you a cheeky smile.

“Keep up Mr.Miller,” you retort and swivel past him with a cheeky smile of your own.

It was a quick 5 minute walk, which was spent in comfortable silence, allowing you to recover from the panic attack. Luckily your favorite spot is free, a wooden bench placed only a few feet away from a cute little pond surrounded by trees and lushes green bushes.

“There we go, please have a seat,” you motion for him to sit down.

You can’t help but watch him get comfortable and spread his meaty thighs. It’s an invitation for your gaze to go directly to his crotch. Images of what a guy like him must be packing flood your brain, most of all what he could do with that.

“Darlin’ did ya not learn that staring is impolite,” that certainly snaps you back into reality quickly, eyes going back to his face. You can feel your cheeks get warm at being caught, you surely must be looking like a tomato.

You sit down next to him and start to apologize “I..I am so so..sorry,” you don’t even dare to look at him.

“Hey sweetheart,” two of his thick fingers tip your chin up “look at me, s’ all good okay?” the look in his eyes is expecting. “Yes it’s all okay,” you nod and his expression turns into a pleased smile.

“That’s a good girl,” those specific words, in that deep molasses tone momentarily stun you. Is he doing this on purpose or is it just who he is?

His deep chuckle let’s you know that he’s well aware of the effect those words have on you. Cheeky.

The short silence is broken by you first.

“Sooo, have you done this before?” What a stupid question, he most likely has done this before, he’s gorgeous, who wouldn’t want him as their Sugar-Daddy ?

“Yes, I have done this before, have you?”

Now this makes you let out a genuine laugh.

“What’s so funny sweet girl, huh?” He inquires.

“Look at me, do I seem like the kinda girl that catches the attention of a Sugar-Daddy?” Pointing at yourself, completely ignoring what he just called you.

“You got my attention, don’t ya?” The smile he gives you makes you realize that this is one of the most beautiful things you’ve ever seen and those cute dimples will never leave your mind. “Also let’s not kid ourselves you're breathtaking, pretty girl.” The final nail in your coffin is the wink he sends you.

For a moment you just stare at him.

“Anyway,” you have to look away from his smug face towards the pond to hide your reaction, you try hard to contain your blush “i have never done this before. Though I have thought about trying this.”

He appears to process that answer.

“What’dya want out of this arrangement?”

A good question, but calling this an arrangement sounds so clinical and cold. Shouldn’t it be more than that? Isn’t your body part of this deal?

“Best case scenario I get a genuine connection out of it, someone to call home, to rely on, something real you know?” He nods in understanding.

“Obviously the money is an aspect too, it’s security, it means not having to worry about making ends meet and just living carefree.”

A shaky breath leaves you after dumping everything on him.

He scratches his scruffy jaw looking deep in thought “What would that carefree life look like?”

You know exactly how to answer, maybe you shouldn’t be so honest but you feel like that will get you plus points. Besides you got not much to lose.

“I’d like to travel, see a bit of the world, take photos of all the majestic sights I’ll come across. Live in a secluded house, close to the nature. I’d wake up paint, take care of my plants, try out delicious recipes and I’d be happy.” It might sound simple to him but that’s all you’d need. A safe warm home.

“I can make that happen for ya sweetheart,” he sounds serious, too serious and you don’t want to get your hope’s up, so you switch the topic.

“Why didn’t it work out with the previous two women?” You interested why neither worked out, how could you fumble a man like Joel.

“The expectations in the arrangement didn’t align, they wanted a quick dime, not really interested in interpersonal relations and I got bored.” He says it with such a nonchalance.

“Where they my age?”

“No, they were both older than you,” you are not sure how to feel about that answer, is it better or is it worse?

“Why don’t you just try normal dating, you’re clearly attractive so it shouldn’t be hard, right?” He could have anyone in the world, yet he sits here on this old bench with you.

“ ‘s harder than it might seem darlin’, the company keeps me busy, the people I interact with most are business acquaintances and that’s not a good mix.” Yeah don’t mix business with pleasure, but isn’t that what you two will do?

“What do you expect of me, what do i have to do to make this work. I..I mean in case you want me,” the nervous stuttering will definitely be something you’ll think about for the next couple days. Why must you sound so desperate for anything?

You’re relieved that he doesn’t acknowledges your nervous word salad.

“ ‘s not a whole lot I expect, but I need flexibility” your eyebrows shoot up “not that kind of, time-wise I need ya to be…bendable,” he can’t help but laugh now “ I’m not making it any better am i?”

“No you’re not, but that’s fine i know what you are trying to say”

“Could you live with that, sometimes there’s gonna be a short notice to go somewhere which might mean flying and I want ya with me,” He explains the conditions.

“I could, it’s okay” you nod confidently “do you also want me to play your eye-candy at those fancy functions rich people have?” Again honest curiosity, you’ve never done this before.

He shakes his head “I don’t want ya to play eye-candy, you would be my partner and my equal.” His goddamn smile will be your downfall. You are about to open your mouth when a loud ring cuts you off, it’s not your phone, it’s his.

He looks apologetic and mouths a “sorry” before picking up the call.

You only get bits and pieces.

“Yes - Tommy ya know I’m busy - hmm - seriously how could that happen - yeah I’m on my way.” His voice took on an angry tone and his smile disappeared.

After hanging up he closes his eyes, squeezes the bridge of his strong nose in annoyance and takes one deep breath.

“Everything alright?” You softly ask.

“Yeah, no,” he opens his eyes and the tense expression switches to an apologetic one “something at our current construction site must’ve gone absolutely wrong and I need to fix it.” He sighs loudly.

“I’m sorry darlin’, this is why I need ya to be -“

“Flexible,” you finish for him and he nods.

“I’m real sorry that our conversation gets cut short,” he leans in and his hand lands just above your knee squeezing lightly “I’d like to continue this “getting to know each other” perhaps when ya visit my office, then you see me looking more professional.” Adding another wink to finish off.

“I’d like that too, Mr. Miller.” You note how his pupils dilate when you call him by that name, already loving the effect you have on him.

When the two of you get up, you immediately start to miss his hand on your leg, but as you walk to the entrance of the park he places said hand on your lower back, to guide you.

“Well here we are, I had a -” he speaks up first but gets cut off yet again by a loud honking.

The source is a black Mercedes Benz.

“Uh, that’s my driver,” he pulls you in for a hug and a quick peg on the cheek “listen I had a great time and can’t wait to see ya again. Please text me when ya get home, okay?”

When he pulls away you nod “I will,” you almost promise and off he goes. Quick strides towards the car, slipping in and taking off with squealing tires that make you think it might be more serious than he let on.

Your phone chiming takes you out of your stupor, a message from Joel, something sweet yet simple.

J: Get home safely, Moon Girl ;)

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[bunnibitez]

Messy Hands - Part Two

Mafia!Miguel x Shy!Reader AFAB

Summary: Miguel just can’t get you off his mind. As a result, he’s always there when you need him most, whether you like it or not.

Word count: 4.6k+

CW: 18+ so MDNI, NSFW, mentions of blood, acts of violence, SA(NOT MIGUEL), stalking, jealousy, possessive behaviors, toxic relationship, mentions of death, slow burn, no use of Y/N

A/N: IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG FOR ME TO GET OUT BUT I PROMISE ITS GOOD!!! THANK YOU TO MY BETA READER @jshookthighs I FUCKIN LOVE YOU

Part One here

Time never stops.

It marches on, dragging the corpse of yesterday behind it. Time never ceases and neither does the on going battle behind closed eyes and clenched fists. No matter how many deep breaths are sucked in between gritted teeth, no matter how much he prayed, begged, kicked or screamed, time marched on. Taking it’s toll on the world and his soul as it did. With time came its companion, decay. A devious creature that preyed on the innocent and beautiful, corrupting it with it’s touch. That’s how Miguel began to see it all. It was a matter of time until his brain too rotted away until his skull was nothing more than an empty cavity to host his rage rather than his conscience. Every day he could feel the threads of his sanity being pulled taut, and every day he doubted how much longer he could go without being the cause of a fucking masacre.

Wrath.

Rage.

Justice.

So much “justice” due. That’s how he saw it. So many people had done wrong by him; tore him apart, brick by brick. Hurt the people he loved most just to get to him. Until one fateful night, he was left with nothing but a beating heart pumping weakly in a dirty alley, left to die. His chest still tightens at the memory of her. Stolen innocence snuffed out too soon. And yet the ones to blame were left unharmed, hidden behind the ivory walls of their mansions, never truly getting their hands dirty.

Cowards.

If only he had the chance, he’d slaughter them. Watch the life drain from their pathetic bodies as they’d squirm and writhe in pain. Begging for a bullet. But Miguel would take his time with them though, he was patient and knew better than to grant them a sliver of mercy. It was the only lesson his father ever taught him.

But that all would come in due time. Miguel was patient, capable of biding his time until his prey found themselves tangled in his web and unable to escape. But until then much like time, Miguel marched on; dragging a little corpse behind him.

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

Weeks had since passed at this point, breezing through late spring and bleeding into early summer. The days after the mysterious brute entered Bellagino’s were tense, leaving Mr. Caparelli flighty and panicked. The stout little man could often be found pacing in the kitchen, muttering to himself with a distraught look painted on his face. You didn’t dare ask why he seemed so frightened since his ‘friend’ came to visit, mostly because you yourself seemed a little terrified of him as well. In lieu of your best efforts and his divine features, the man was cold and seemed pestered by your presence at your last encounter. Despite this though, you seem to find yourself staring at him more and more. Since the meeting with Bellaginos’ owner, Miguel had begun to visit the quaint little restaurant every other week or so.

Miguel couldn’t find the motive behind his actions truly. He raked his brain for an answer, disturbing the cobwebs in his head to try and understand why he had to mindlessly sit here and watch. Sit and watch this run down old restaurant like a dog. Sit and feel his shoulders slump as the soft hum began to tune out the buzzing in his mind. He’d come in and plop down at the same little table in the center of the room and the owner would bring him the same ice water with lemon.

For the first two weeks, he had attempted to convince himself it was purely to ensure that Caparelli wouldn’t run out on him. Sure, getting to watch the pretty little thing behind the register try not to stare was fun, but these were just business trips. What did it matter that he started coming in twice a week? What did it matter that he’d feel a twist of disappointment when he’d walk through the creaky little door and not see you in your usual spot because it was your day off? It was just business.

That is until finally he had no choice but to confront the truth. It came at him, sitting in his lap, oozing through his gut and making his stomach tie in knots. It made him nervous and queasy, forced to hide it all behind a stonewall mask. It felt foreign, his thoughts jumbled as he began to lose focus on it all.

‘There’s no way. It’s just work.. It’s just..’

It was a warm night in July and an unusually busy Friday evening at Bellagino’s, due in part to the ongoing festival at the Brooklyn Bridge Park. Fairy lights twinkled overhead in the outdoor dining area, each seat filled with couples and gaggles of laughing friends. Miguel almost didn’t recognize the place with it so full of life. The building had an unfamiliar glow to it that simply complimented it, turning it into the homely feel of a little Italian cottage. Turning his attention to the windows as he approached, he saw you, floating around tables with a smile on your face. His lips parted slightly as he watched you, glowing like an angel in the warm lights.

In your element, twirling to avoid guests with ease, plating food and drinks without spilling a drop. You moved with grace and poise, completely unbothered and confident. It was a complete parallel to how you acted when Miguel was there.

That’s when he felt it. A tugging at his chest and the tightening of his lungs as he held his breath. He could feel his heart thrumming as he stood there, starstruck. For the first time, it wasn’t just a subtle hum, it was a goddamn symphony. A cacophony of harmonious melodies blended together to form the tune playing behind his eyes as he gawked in awe. He couldn’t think straight, his own thoughts being muffled out and pulled to the back of his mind. Sweaty palms clenched into tight fists as he closed his eyes and tried to shake out the cotton filling his head.

‘Think O’Hara… Breathe dammit…’ he reminded himself.

A large hand brushed back loose curls as he inhaled slowly through his nose. He knew he couldn’t stand there staring at you all night like some love stricken fool. He forced himself to move, to draw closer to the siren that called his name without even knowing he was there. His knees buckled, faltering for only a moment as he approached the door. Pushing through, his nerves got the better of him for just a split second and his instincts slipped as his eyes merely tracked you throughout the bustling restaurant. Forgetting to duck his head like he usually did, the top of Miguel’s forehead smacked into the doorframe with a soft thud.

He winced, inhaling sharply as he stumbled inside for a moment. He grit his teeth, more so from annoyance rather than pain. He shut his eyes, hoping to drown out the throbbing at the front of his skull if he rubbed it hard enough. He was grateful that almost everyone else seemed too enveloped in their own mindless conversations to even notice he’d arrived.

Almost everyone.

Approaching Miguel, you looked up at him. His hulking frame would’ve been intimidating had it not been that he slouched a little as he held his head. For the first time since you met him, it made your eyebrows draw upward in concern.

“Sir, are you okay..?”

It took Miguel a moment to open his eyes, his scarlet irises glancing down at you. Slowly he took in the shape of you, nodding his head sheepishly as he swallowed. His hand fell away from his head as he tried to regain his composure. This had been the first time since your initial meeting that you’d spoken to him. Once again, that honey voice triggered the euphoric hum in the back of his mind. Once his gaze met your eyes, he felt his heart skip a beat. They were dazzling and full of genuine concern for him. The kind of eyes that men write poems and hymns about. Sweet irises that he could swim in, but he feared that if he dove in, he’d never come up for air. He’d never seen eyes like yours before. So awestruck that the only response he could give you was a low hum.

You looked down, feeling your bravery caught in your chest. Your eyes darted down to your feet and you cleared your throat, trying to remember the usual script you ran through when a customer arrived.

“R-Right, well… Table for one..?” You asked sheepishly, reaching for a menu. For a moment, Miguel feels his heart stutter. All the confidence you just had somehow managed to seep away in his presence. The way you kept your gaze glue to the floor made him frown, biting the inside of his cheek gently. He could feel the tension rising, an awkward wall you were starting to build. For half a second, Miguel felt a twinge of panic wash over him. He looked at you, searching your body for an out, a way to make things better, to make you less afraid. He swallowed thickly, scrambling his brain to try and think of something to say to lighten the mood or even make you laugh.

“Does it look like I’ve got anyone with me?”

‘Fuck.’

It comes out flat and sarcastic, not charming or teasing as he meant for it to. He internally cringes at himself as he sees the way you retract from him.

“Oh… yeah… Sorry, sir.” You mumble out and begin to guide him to his usual spot. The broken tone of your voice feels like a punch to the gut. A twist of his innards that has him wishing he could turn back time. He’s never been this awkward or nervous before. Usually his callous behavior is intentional and pointed, but now he feels it just makes him look like an ass.

“I’ll be right back to take your order…” Soft spoken and sweet, you place the menu down and walk away. Once seated, he pinches the bridge of his nose in self frustration, squeezing his eyes shut as he lets out an annoyed sigh. He’s never been like this before, never been this much of a mess because of a woman. Usually his suave and charming nature takes over and he’s able to seduce anyone he damn well pleases, but for some unknown reason; you broke him. He groans quietly and shakes his head slowly, feeling the butterflies now pooling in his stomach.

‘Aye carajo, get a hold of yourself..’

It feels like his brain is on fire, criticizing every way the interaction went wrong. He feels his gut twist, pinching his nose with enough force that it starts to hurt and his knuckles turn white. The throbbing only continued as his frustration grew. His face practically morphs into a snarl as he sits and waits. Opening his eyes, he glares down at the menu before him, a pleather bound book with the edges peeling away. He tries to refocus his attention on literally anything else than his blundering attempt at conversation.

Miguel is left grumbling to himself when you return to his side. Silently you place a glass of ice water with a lemon wedge bobbing about the glass beside him. Fear beats quickly along side your heart as you wordlessly reach out your other hand, gently clutching a crude ice pack. It was nothing extraordinary, a little sandwich baggie filled with ice chips and wrapped loosely in paper towel. It’s placed on the table beside the water with care. Miguel eyes it for a moment. He feels his stomach twist again but this time its a different feeling. It flutters and it’s soft with smoother edges than before. His cheeks just hardly flush a soft pink as his features remain contorted into a grimace. Without turning his head more than two inches, he looks at you from the corner of his eye. Your eyes are once again glued to your feet, trembling hands reaching to the pen and notepad tucked into your apron. With your head down and your nose nearly buried to the paper of the little booklet, Miguel can’t see the heat that’s spread across your face.

“A-Are you ready to order..?” You squeak out in a voice hardly above a whisper.

Miguel swallows, clearing his throat as he lifts his head. The pink on his cheeks is beginning to darken as your gaze peers over your little notepad and into his crimson eyes. His face melts from frustration, his brows furrowing just a little as he stares back, trying to remember his words.

“No.. I.. Just the water is fine.” He manages to force out. His hands are absently pulling at the cheap white fabric tablecloth as he looks at you. He swears that if he could freeze time at this moment, he would. The way your gaze softens as you look at him, has him biting his tongue just hardly. The butterflies are flapping wildly about in his stomach. Miguel’s canines dig into the tender flesh as he tries to ground himself, distract himself from how pretty those lashes would flutter as he forced you to look up at him from your knees. Would you let him hold your face still while he pounds into you- he wonders.

Your eyes flit back down to your book and you nod your head.

“Y-Yes sir. If you need anything, j-just call for me.” You hold the little name badge pinned to your chest for him as if he hadn’t eyed it the first twelve times he came in to watch you work. With that, you turn on your heel and leave him. Scurrying to another table while Miguel is left merely watching.

The subtle throbbing beats against his head like a drum before he glances down at the icepack you brought over. It feels so tiny in his hand. He lets out a little groan as he presses the baggie to his forehead, relishing in the relief it just barely provides. He can’t help the smile halfheartedly pulling at the corners of his mouth as he sits there.

‘She really didn’t have to do that…’

But he hardly has a chance to bask in his appreciation when he hears it, just barely audible amongst the chatter.

“Aww c’mon sweet’art. I bet I could show ya a real good time.” The man drawls out, clearly drunk from the second pitcher of sangria he and his buddies were splitting. He’s got a toothy and sloshed grin spread across his face as his hand glides up the back of your thigh. You look mortified, eyes silently screaming for help.

Miguel feels his lip twitch as he rises up from his seat.

“S-Sir please stop..” You squeak out, too quiet for the pickled bastard to hear or care. His hand is pulling back, gearing up for a smack, when suddenly a wide tan palm wraps itself around his wrist. It’s grip is tight and overwhelming when Miguel yanks, nearly dragging the drunk out to the ground in the process.

“No la toques, pendejo.” Miguels spits with venom as he twists the man’s arm. The usual hum that played in your presence was washed out by his rage. No one should be allowed to touch you, especially not some wasted shithead. Gritting his teeth, Miguel has to remind himself that he’s in public. Eyes fly to watch the scene unfold. He grumbles lowly as the man cries out in pain before Miguel practically tosses him back into his seat. He scrambles, nearly falling out of his chair to get back from you and Miguel.

With parted lips, a little gasp escapes you. Miguel feels his conscience flooding in as he looks back at you. Wordlessly, he jerks his head towards the door and starts heading for the exit. His eyes are cold, commanding almost. He grumbles something out loud to Caparelli about leaving in Spanish as his grasp nearly tears the creaky little door off it’s hinges. His eyes trace over you once more before he turns his back on you and lets out a gruff, “C’mon.”

Sticking close behind, you slip out the door as he holds it open.

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

The night air is warm, the remnants of the summer heatwave still staining Nueva York. It’s mostly quiet aside from the drone of car engines as they pass by. You’re silently keeping pace with Miguel, feeling your chest rattle from the whole interaction. Frightened, confused, and over in a flash. It makes you ball your hands into tight little fists, frustration quietly bubbling up in your chest. In that moment, you froze, retracting into your shell in the hopes that you could avoid confrontation all together. You’re biting back tears as they prick at the corners of your eyes. Your mind is brewing with what ifs and how badly it could’ve gone when suddenly, his voice pulls you from your thoughts. It’s low and sultry with the fleeting taste of a Spanish accent. You couldn’t really hear the words coming out of his mouth, too busy being lulled by the sound of him. You jerk your attention to him, eyeing his lips for a moment before forcing your gaze to meet his.

“Hm?” Is all you can manage.

“I said, do you live around here?” His voice cuts through, fully grounding you and bringing you back to the present.

“O-Oh.. yea. About five blocks thata way.” You tip your head to the left. “I can just walk.”

Miguel nods his head before starting to lead the way down 48th street. You open your mouth to protest his accompaniment but let the words die in your throat. Walking side by side with your head down, you could only let your thoughts wash over you again.

Miguel lumbered on the side of the concrete closest to the street, grumbling as he kept his eyes forward. Loathing boiled inside his stomach, frothing from his mouth in a string of Spanish curses and death threats.

“If I ever see that fucker again, I swear… Llevaré su piel como un abrigo.” He growled to himself, plotting and mentally preparing for the literal hell that he was going to drag that stranger through. His fists were clenched tightly at his side, burning white until he heard a soft sniffle. Pulling himself away from his thoughts, he turned his head to face you.

Your eyes were still glued to the sidewalk beneath you, tears rolling down ruddy cheeks despite how hard you tried to keep them from spilling. The quiet sounds you made were a result of the runny nose that accompanied your tears. It all just felt so overwhelming, so scary. In a moment of quiet and scarce vulnerability, you tried to be brave. But it was so so hard.

Miguel felt his heart sink in his chest. Thoughts of annihilation and revenge washed away. Softened eyes stared down at you silently as he tried to form the right words to say to you to make the pain and fear melt away. But he couldn’t. Miguel was all too aware of the fact that he lacked the necessary eloquence. It pained him to see you trying to bottle it all up. His teeth sunk into his cheek as he scrambled internally. Finally, he loosened his tightly balled fist, letting it hang limp.

Rough, large knuckles brushed up against the back of your dainty hand. The gentle ghost of a caress, hardly grazing your flesh, almost like he was afraid you’d shatter. Warmth radiated off his hand as once again, it swept across your skin, featherlight. Your head lifted, attempting to gaze up at Miguel, but by this time, he’d turned his head away from you in a shallow attempt to hide his growing blush. Whether it had been due to your tear-blurred eyes or your own volition, you stepped hardly an inch closer to the giant, a faint smile tugging at the corner of your mouth.

The rest of the trek back to your shabby apartment was quiet, muted were the sounds of Miguel’s grumbling. They were drowned out by the sounds of your indistinct humming. It was nearly impossible to hear, but it was the only thing Miguel could focus on as the two of you passed through your neighborhood. Entering a large, ten-story building, Miguel was only able to remember where he was in the flickering yellow lights of the hall to your apartment door.

Standing before your apartment, he swallowed thickly. Palms sweaty and the hair on the back of his neck standing on edge as you turned your back on him to unlock the door. You looked so small, so delicate, and so fucking pretty. He felt his heart race in his chest, nearly forgetting all together the events of nearly twenty minutes ago. Right now he just wanted to come inside with you and hold you in his arms. He wanted your body pressed against his chest, lulling him to sleep in the comfort of your bed. He wondered if those sheets smelled as sweet as you did, felt as soft to the touch. He tried to wondered if he’d prefer to rest his head amongst your pillows or your thighs, but he already knew the answer.

‘Please… please let me come in cariño… let me make you feel better… let me take care of you, just for tonight…’ he prayed to himself as he watched you open the door with caution.

Doe eyes stared up at him as his lips parted to speak. Just your gaze forced him mute. Rubbing the tears from your cheeks and smiling up at him with warmth and fondness, he thought he was going to fall to his knees right then and there.

“Thank you.. I-I really appreciate everything, sir.” You said gently, hardly above a whisper. It made Miguel savor your voice. The way it made his brain tingle and swim felt better than any liquor he’s ever had. He wanted to hear more of you, but more than anything he wanted to hear you say his name.

“It was no trouble at all. But please chula, from now on just call me Miguel…” He tried to offer the same warm smile you did but could hardly manage anything more than a sweet little smirk. Despite his expression though, you could see the light in his eyes. It was dull and flickering, but it was there, growing. You nodded your head and gave an airy half chuckle.

“Heh okay… Well then, good night… Miguel.” You spoke in the sweetest tone you could manage. Miguel felt a shiver travel down his spine. His cheeks flushed lightly and he swore he could feel his heart pounding behind his eyes. The way his name fell from your tongue made him weak and practically feral. For a moment he considered sweeping you off your feet and fucking you into the couch just so he could hear you say his name like that again. But instead he stood there, attempting to bite back his animalistic urges with his canines as you began to slip into your apartment. The door gently closed as he watched, standing there and thinking about all the ways he’d make you scream his name.

He tries to shake the thought loose but can’t. He can’t stop thinking about how sweet and obedient you’d be. How much you make his heart flutter and how crazy it drives him. Miguel feels a stirring in his chest, a queasiness that makes him feel sick for a moment as reality strolls back in. The fires of rage being stoked once more in your absence as he remembers what brought him to your apartment in the first place.

He can practically already taste blood on his tongue when he recalls the drunk from the restaurant. How terrified he made you, how something worse could’ve happened had Miguel not’ve been there. Through the haze of his anger he makes a decision, you’ll never be without protection again. He’ll always make sure you’re safe, constantly under the watchful eye of the family. Fuck if he could, he’d guard you himself, day and night.

No matter what or how, he’d keep you safe from the scum that roamed this city. He wouldn’t let the only pure thing in his life be tainted or taken away. Not again. God forbid anything did happen to you, Miguel would have to burn the whole city to the ground.

From that day forth, whenever he couldn’t watch over you himself Miguel would have one of his Spider’s watching over you. Jess or Ben would be the one’s usually sitting in an unmarked vehicle outside of Bellagino’s, stalking in the shadows to make sure you got home safe, reporting back to Miguel as he worked.

For a short while it satisfied him. That is until one night Jess reported she saw you opening the door for some friends, ushering them inside with glee as they carried bottles of wine and board games. Jess tried to explain it was fine, beyond normal even. But Miguel didn’t care. In fact he’d stopped listening to her the moment she said there was a man amongst the group of 4 that were permitted entry. Who the fuck was he? Why did he get to be so close to you? Jealousy washed over him, filling him to the brim.

‘It’s just for her protection…’ that’s what he told himself. Over and over again. Even when he had Peter install the little devices inside your house, while you were off at work. Miguel felt a tinge of guilt, sitting and watching you work with a smile on your face from his table. Meanwhile hidden surveillance cameras were being put in your bedroom, your kitchen, your bathroom, and your living room. It ate at him a little that he worried so much. But how could he not? He couldn’t let anything bad happen to you. This was for your safety, he knew better than to let you out of his sight. The last time he wasn’t watching carefully enough, it cost him… her.

No. He wouldn’t bury another person he cared about. Not when he had the power to do something about it this time. Not when you just started to warm up to him. You finally started to look him in the eye when he sat down at his usual spot. You finally started to smile at him and bless him with that angelic laugh. You started to loosen up and even stop and chat for a few minutes. Once on your break, you just sat and talked to him for the whole thirty minutes, telling him about your day and terrible jokes you thought he might like. All just to see him smile and laugh back at you. He couldn’t just let you slip away. Not when he knew what he’d do if he lost you.

As little as you knew it, you were holding his shattering mind together, keeping him from falling apart. If only you understood how much he needed you.

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

Time never stops. It marches on, dragging the corpse of yesterday behind it. Time never ceases and neither does the on going beating of hearts and whispers of hope that pray for a better tomorrow. With time came its companion, decay. A mysterious creature that made room in the world for new hope and potential. Miguel didn’t always enjoy time’s passage, nor did he adore it’s companion decay. But with the two, a third party marched, carrying a flag of promise and beauty. With time and decay, tread growth. A glorious and shining ray for tomorrow, growth lit a path for time, giving way for hope.

Everyday that he saw your glowing face, he could feel his heart beating and mending, little by little.

But Miguel was patient, slowly learning to accept time and the company it kept. He knew to bide his time and earn your trust. He knew that with time, you’d be his.

Part 3

Taglist

@whisperwispxx @eatally @moonvoidpng @unicornbabygremlin @chshiresins @iloveyouall234-blog @amber-content

[zgvlt]

tried and tested and truly yours sebek zigvolt x reader

summary: Sebek, the bodyguard of famous celebrity Malleus Draconia, is a regular at your café. With his frequency in your establishment, conversation was inevitable, though he never would have expected you to become anything beyond a late night acquaintance.

tags: gender neutral reader, sfw, fluff/romance, aged up characters (since they're all working), no magic AU, 12k+ words, not beta read

author's note (see end for more): (Belated) HAPPY BIRTHDAY SEBEK and (Belated) Happy Anniversary, TWST JP! Since my first fic was also on Sebek's birthday last year, Happy 1 year anniversary to my blog! Yippee!

you can also read this on AO3

“Hello! You’re here again.” Sebek looked up from the menu to stare at you, not unkindly but in a not exactly friendly way either. “Dear regular. What will you be having tonight?”

You recognized him as the man who frequented your café at odd hours—always your first customer in the morning, loudly declaring the same order and quick to leave; always your last customer in the evening, quietly eating until he was forced to leave. He recognized you as the owner of the establishment—he had thought you to be the manager once with how present you were, but the way you dressed freely and lacked a name tag suggested otherwise.

“I’ll have honey lemon tea,” he replied easily, heeding the recommendation his two bosses gave him. It would be good to keep his voice loud and healthy, they said, and who was he to not follow such a well-meaning, wise suggestion? “Hot, please.”

“Alright,” you replied, scribbling something on your notepad quickly, “and for something to bite… The usual, sir?”

Sebek nodded, “Whatever went unsold, I’ll get it all.”

You smiled brightly. He remembered you used to be visibly shocked the first few times he dined in, even concerned for his wallet with how much he ordered. He had huffed at the time, proclaiming that he was very well compensated by his very well-off employers, and that there was no use in worrying about him or his appetite. Nowadays, though, with the growing popularity of your business, you seemed more concerned about whether you had enough to feed him with.

“It’s really nice that you eat well,” you said, “does it have something to do with your job? You know, like people who compete in bodybuilding have to eat a certain amount and eat certain things to develop their body a certain way when they work out.”

“You’ve never asked me about my profession before,” Sebek noted. Many people would have stopped at that and you did look like you were about to apologize for prying, but he was, honestly, extremely proud of his job, so he found himself talking about it anyway. “But yes. Eating a certain amount is a part of my training regimen! How can I protect Sir Malleus properly if I can’t utilize my body efficiently?”

You blinked. “I’m sorry, protect who?”

Sebek’s first instinct is to groan to himself—that was a slip of the tongue, he should have been more careful with his words…! What if you’re some delusional fan who’s going to pester him about Malleus Draconia?! What if you’re an anti who’s going to try to use him to get close to the man and try to harm him?!

“Malleus… I feel like I’ve heard that name before. Is he a model or something?”

The second instinct he has is to immediately educate you, because unless you’re extremely good at pretending—he has to keep his guard up before he can clear that doubt about you—you seem to not know who Malleus Draconia is, which is an act malum in se… A crime in and of itself.

“How do you not know the greatest performer of the century? The Malleus Draconia!” Sebek exclaimed, shaking his head. Simultaneously, he brought out his wallet—but not to pay for his orders yet. Rather, snuck in a slot right in between his credit card and debit card, he pulled out a photo card, one of the man being brought up. “This is Malleus Draconia. He was a talented stage actor in his childhood, then he became a soloist in his teenage years, before returning back to acting, this time in movies and series, in his adulthood. He also models, yes, in commercials and magazines, but it is not his main profession. 

“Surely you must have seen him somewhere? Perhaps you simply did not know his name but your eyes have been graced with his performances!”

“Um, I hate to break it to you… I don’t think I know any of his songs, or watched anything he’s in,” you admitted, though upon locking eyes with him for a few seconds you ended up adding, “I’m sure he’s very talented, though! I mean, he certainly looks the part of someone popular. I’ll, err, do my research once I get home? If I don’t pass out in bed immediately,”

“That’s WONDERFUL! Of course, if you are truly as new to him as you say you are, you will have much to catch up on,” Sebek sighed, as though pitying you slightly, “but it will certainly be worth it. If you’re quick to invest enough, I won’t be surprised if you begin begging me for tickets to his concerts or fanmeets, or if you try to bribe me to get his signature. I won’t do it, mind you! So I’m warning you now!”

It was a very genuine warning, but something about the look on your face perturbed him. Could it be that you had plans to do so?

“So during these fanmeets and all these other events… You’ll be in attendance?” you asked, and Sebek scoffed at the question. Was it not obvious?

“I’m one of his bodyguards,” Sebek proclaimed with pride, “I am always in attendance, not only in the case of an emergency, but to support him as well!”

“I feel like you’re about to tell me something along the lines of ‘If Malleus Draconia has 1 million fans, I am one of them. If he has 1,000, I am one of them. If he has one, that is me. If he has none, I’ve departed from this world,’ or however the saying goes,” you laughed, and Sebek had almost begun an argument about how Malleus had more than one million fans, thank you very much! His MagiCam followers were only surpassed by the likes of Vil Schoenheit and Neige LeBlanche, who were active on social media, so it wasn’t a fair comparison! 

“I think it’s nice that a serious guy like you has this kind of passion, even if I wouldn’t have been able to guess it,” you said, “everyone must feel really reassured that they could rely on someone dedicated like you to protect such a high-profile celebrity.”

“Hmph! Of course they are!” Sebek was practically preening at your compliments, readily accepting them. “It’s good that even you, who hardly knows anything about Malleus Draconia, can recognize that!”

“Feel free to tip me for that if you want,” you said, “that was a joke by the way, I was being genuine.”

“I know it was a joke.” Sebek did not know, actually. He was fully prepared to tip you more than usual for engaging in this type of conversation with him. Somehow, he found himself more rejuvenated than usual, even though he had quite the tiring workday. Hopefully the tea would do the trick and, if not, he supposed some late night lifting back in his apartment would get him sleepy!

“Alright,” you smiled, as though you didn’t believe him. “I’ll go prepare your order, Sebek.”

“I’m surprised you remember my name,” he admitted, “you always call me your regular or something else instead.”

“Sebek, you’ve spelled out your name for me so many times for your coffee,” you reminded him, “S-E-B-E-K. I’m sure anyone would remember a name yelled out at five in the morning, practically every day.”

“Right,” Sebek turned away from you, flushing slightly in embarrassment. Of course that made sense. He was a frequent customer. If not you, then one of your employees would write his name down on a coffee cup. Sebek was not a particularly common name, too, so obviously you would recall.

“Since you know my name, though, I should know yours as well.”

You never wore a name tag, after all, so all this time he’s been calling you the person who owns the café in the building of my work place, which was a mouthful and just, honestly, plain neglectful of him. How rude of him! He should correct his impoliteness, shouldn’t he? It was simply right and, well, he should work on doing right so as to not bring any blights to his employer!

“Is that so?”

You didn’t answer him initially, focused on preparing his orders and, right after, charging his card for the bill. However, when he gets his receipt, he finds it jotted in pencil at the back, alongside your MagiCam handle and phone number—for emergencies it says, right beside an asterisk, or if he needed something delivered to his workplace.

Sebek doesn’t do social media, nor is he particularly social anywhere, mostly using his phone for work, to keep up with anything to do with Malleus, or to catch up with his family, but he keeps the receipt tucked in his wallet instead of throwing it out immediately. 

For emergencies, of course, though it’s not so much for him but more so for you. Not having any security guards in your café this close to midnight? Sure, the city was relatively safe, but there were dangerous people everywhere. Though he was not employed to protect you, he still frequented your café, so he found it important to make sure you were safe. It would be troublesome if something were to happen to you or your business.

That was all there was to it so, despite the regulations he had, self-imposed or otherwise, he found himself not just saving your number, but replying back, warning you to not spread his contact details anywhere.

Aside from a promise to do so, you text him something you’ve already told him a while ago: Good night!

Perhaps he should have reminded you to only text him for important matters, but maybe it was a good thing that he didn’t. He did not reply, but he made sure to greet you a good morning in person the next day.

Sebek’s eyes have constantly been flickering between Malleus Draconia and the crowd coming to see him this whole time, that being for about an hour now, and as much as he enjoys seeing people recognize the celebrity’s talents and efforts to the point that they would line up for hours to see him, the whole affair is, for once, relatively uneventful. 

He’s grateful, of course, that there’s no one to have to restrain for once; even his boss seems genuinely relieved that the event thus far had been very peaceful, what with him flashing a rare grin (with teeth!) instead of his usual closed-lipped smirks and smiles. 

What a blessed day to be a supporter of Malleus Draconia. 

That was why, although he still tried to keep vigilant, he found himself relaxing slightly, just soaking up the good atmosphere.

Then you showed up. You were still wearing the clothes he usually saw you wearing in the café, but the hat you had on your head really made it difficult to distinguish you from the crowd until you eventually removed it, right when you were already in front of Malleus.

Why didn’t you tell him you were going to attend?! You never even showed any interest in attending when he told you there was going to be a fanmeet today!

Then, you placed a paper bag on top of the desk. The contents had to be food, Sebek was sure, because while you did your best to cover up where the food had come from by using something plain as opposed to branded packaging, there was no hiding the familiar smell of pastries within.

Really, it showed that you were awfully new to events like these. Though the rules differed from celebrity to celebrity, Malleus specifically was not allowed to accept foods that were not, at the very least, sealed and packaged. For safety reasons, unfortunately, but a measure that had to be done.

Still, because you, from what he knew of you, were a well-intentioned person, he didn’t want to embarrass you in front of anyone. He was already making his way to grab the paper bag himself, as well as give you a reminder for the future, when you decide to tell Malleus something, muttering low enough so as to not be heard by anyone else.

“Nice to meet you, Malleus,” you said, shaking the hand in front of you, “Sorry if this is impolite, but could you give this to Sebek?”

Sebek nearly screamed. He really was about to, but he just about managed to hold back, merely jolting in place. His fellow guard slash his other boss’ assistant slash adoptive son, Silver, stared at him pointedly. 

“You know one of my bodyguards?” the black-haired man asked. While Sebek could not see his expression from his vantage point, he did sound intrigued by you. “Are you Sebek’s…?”

“He didn’t come by my café this morning,” you said, finally glancing towards him. “I was concerned he hadn’t eaten anything yet.”

“Oh I wouldn’t worry about him. He had a hefty breakfast, I promise,” Malleus laughed, “though I’ll make sure to give this to him anyway, since you worked so hard to bring it here.” 

“Thank you, I really appreciate it. Sebek was right about you being nice. I’ll try to support you in the future,” you promised, “I’ll be going now. I don’t want to take away any more time than I have from your fans.”

“Alright, take care,” Malleus said, and Sebek watched you walk away with a smile, wondering to himself who exactly it was meant for considering the difference between who you were talking to versus who you were looking at. 

Malleus spun around to hand the bag to him, eyes gleaming. 

“Well, you might as well prepare yourself. Lilia is going to pester you about this later,” he laughed ominously, promptly turning back to the crowd to greet his next fan before Sebek could get a response out.

“You must have lined up for about an hour just to get to the front,” Sebek said, confronting you as soon as he got back to his hotel room. Through the phone, he heard you let out a hum of agreement. Sebek sighed right after. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I was expecting you! You said you’d be able to go get your morning coffee,” you retorted, “well, ‘coffee’, quote-unquote, it’s more like milk with a dash of coffee… But seriously, isn’t it normal to get worried, especially because of the type of job you have?”

Sebek glanced at the mirror, the visual representation of his heated face reflected right back at him. 

“Something came up. We had to leave earlier than usual, so I couldn’t stop by,” he explained apologetically… and blatantly ignoring the comment about his tastes in caffeine. “You could have messaged me.”

“You don’t check your phone during work hours,” you reminded him, “unless it’s work related.”

“How sure are you that I would not have checked?!” Sebek asked, rolling his eyes despite the fact that you would not be able to see it. “Seriously…! I got a severe questioning from my boss because of you!”

“Oops, sorry!” you apologized, not sounding all that sorry. “What did Malleus ask you? I can’t imagine him as the type to grill you all that much.”

“Not much, thankfully, since, AHEM!” He cleared the non-existent phlegm in his throat, using that time to think of some other response other than the truth. “He mostly did the listening, not the questioning. Our chairman did.”

He inevitably went with the truth.

“Damn… your chairman?” you laughed, though it seemed more sympathetic this time, “You didn’t get in trouble, did you? I know some people are particularly strict with, you know, how they operate during work hours, who they associate with, not allowing people in your personal life to interact with people in your profession, things like that.”

“No! No, he’s terrifying sometimes, but he’s extremely compassionate too!” Sebek said, defending the man, “Although the questions… I would have preferred not to answer them at all…”

The recollection of the earlier event, the awkwardness and embarrassment he felt as he was questioned about you of all people, everything about it made him groan in annoyance. It felt like no matter what he answered, he found himself digging into a deeper and deeper hole that he couldn’t get away from.

“Okay, I won’t pry about the questions since you seem so pained by the memory,” you assured him, “even if I’m curious, so… Let’s talk about something else, then, if you’re not busy.”

“I’m not busy,” Sebek said quickly, even though he was rather tired from everything today. It was just… talking to you, yes, so it wasn’t like he would be exerting that much effort by staying up a few minutes later! The only difference between talking to you back at the café and talking to you on the phone was distance, obviously.

Never mind that, at the time, he was there as a customer and right now, well, there was no real reason for him to speak to you without the proximity binding you two to converse. 

“Are you sure? You sound a little tired.”

“Me? Tired? Do you still not know me well enough to be able to suggest such a thing? The events of today are not enough to make use of all of my strength, mind you!” he huffed, incredulous at the suggestion. “Even if I were to stay up for three consecutive nights, I would be able to do it!”

“Would not recommend that, even if it’s for work.” He imagined you shaking your head at him in some form of disapproval. “How was the coffee, by the way? I hope it was still warm by the time it got into your hands.”

“It was actually, yes.” His eyes darted onto the coffee table, the mint green tumbler sitting there, emptied and washed. “The insulation was good and it kept the drink sufficiently warm. I must ask where you bought it! I should replace my current water bottle with something similar.”

“Ahh… Just keep it, then,” you told him, hastily adding, “I haven’t used it yet, by the way! So you don’t have to worry about, like, my germs or something.”

“I can’t possibly…” Sebek said, trailing off as he listened to your protests. “Fine! Let me pay for it, then.”

“Sebek, no.” He tried to imagine what type of expression you would have on your face by now as you tried to argue with him. There were some complaints and banter, yes, but insistence regarding something so simple was new in regards to you. “Just consider it as a thank you for being my regular.”

“Absolutely not, then. Goods and services are meant to be paid for, and I’ve paid for them appropriately. It’s not like you’re handing them out to me for free. If anything, shouldn’t I pay you extra for doing a delivery run even when you did not have to go that far?”

For a moment you did not say anything, and Sebek thought he had finally won against you. Then, as though to let him know your silence was simply spent thinking of the perfect response, you replied,

“Then it’s a gift,” you told him, “because you’re my friend.”

“FRIEND?!” Sebek blurted out, before clearing his throat the second time that night. “Ah! Well, yes, of COURSE. This is normal behavior for friends to exhibit, yes. The exchange of gifts. Tokens of friendship.”

“Yeah? I mean, not everyone really needs to exchange. Sometimes, just receiving or just giving is enough,” you pointed out, “but you know, it feels nice to let your friends know you appreciate them any way you can, and that you’re appreciated, too.”

“Of course,” Sebek nodded to himself. Payment wasn’t what you wanted. What you needed in return was something… heartfelt and genuine. It was like one of his favorite Malleus Draconia movies, where he, to show his appreciation, gifted his dear ally something practical, something special, something he knew they would enjoy. It was such a good movie he had teared up, and what kind of fan would he be if he were not to heed the morals of the media he consumed? “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“That’s oddly intimidating, but alright,” you replied, yawning midway, “Alright, it’s getting late, and if not you, then I should go get some rest, so… See you tomorrow?”

“I won’t be there in the morning,” he let you know, “but I’ll see you in the evening.”

“Okay.” He imagined your smile, the one you usually gave him when he entered and left your café. He imagined you were smiling before you hung, and when you hung up it was only then that Sebek realized the call had gone longer than he had thought, and that he was still dressed in his suit.

It was thereafter he remembered that his room was right beside Malleus’, who tended to stay up late with Lilia, who often had Silver by his side, and thus…

Someone knocked on his door, a familiar beat of a song from his hometown. When he opened it up, he was only slightly surprised to be face to face with his fellow bodyguard, somehow awake at this hour. 

“Sebek, try to lower your volume next time,” the light-haired boy sighed, “father told me to let you know he and Malleus could hear your lover’s quarrel from the next room.”

He felt the red seep back into his face, though he wondered if it had ever really left in the first place.

“I’ll go over and apologize… even if it’s not a lover’s quarrel!” he boomed, before shutting the door behind him. Next to him, Silver shrugged.

“Okay, maybe we just misheard.”

“And misunderstood, too,” Sebek added. They walked a few steps in the hallway, walking away from room 1703 stopping right in front of 1704, Malleus’ room. Before Silver could use the keycard, Sebek halted the action. “Wait. Answer me this before we enter.”

“Sure?” Silver asked, confused by how sudden it was brought upon him. “If I can, I’ll try.”

“Silver… What kind of gifts do friends usually give each other?”

“SIR! What are you doing here?!” 

At his exclamation, Malleus Draconia looked away from his conversation partner, you, to acknowledge his presence. Beside him, you smile and wave at him, as though beckoning him to come closer. He could not compel himself to do so, choosing to stand right next to the door.

“Am I not allowed to be here, Sebek?” 

He froze, panicked and unsure of how to respond. Who was he to dictate where the man was allowed to go, especially a place not just harmless, but a place he was fond and familiar with? If anything, his pre-existing preoccupation with the establishment should have assured him that nothing terrible would happen to his employer.

Beyond safety, the person who ran the business itself was one he approved of beyond measure, thus… 

“There’s no reason you shouldn’t be, sir!” he replied hastily, gaze avoidant of your own, focused on the tall man. “I was just shocked to see you here so late, and without Sir Lilia or Silver by your side!”

“Even before you and Silver were enlisted as my guards, I’ve been accustomed to taking walks at this hour. You’re not the only creature of the night, after all.” Malleus moved to stand up from his chair, the seat he (and you) preferred to occupy during nights like these, walking towards him slowly. “Since I understand now why you frequent this place, I should take my leave.”

Sebek let out a sound of protest instinctively, ready to either drive or walk the man back to his home or whichever location he wanted to go to next, but Malleus waved him off.

“I don’t need to monopolize any more of your time, especially since you just got here. I already have your company nearly everyday for multiple hours a day.” His gaze drifted back to you, looking unsure as to whether you should insist on having Sebek escort him or otherwise. “Unlike a certain someone. I’ll go hail a ride by myself.”

“Do… Do you have the app for that installed on your phone?” Sebek asked, admittedly doubtful at the actor’s ability to book one for himself. Not that he could dare say his concerns out loud.

“Kids these days… Lilia taught me how to do it, remember?” he deadpanned, “now leave me be and don’t even think about being back at the hotel room until at least midnight.”

“Did you just get a reverse curfew?” you muttered in disbelief, attention all on him as Malleus took his leave. 

“I’m… a little confused myself,” Sebek admitted, “but I’m sure someone as intelligent as Sir Malleus has his reasons for imposing a, as you said, reverse curfew. In fact, I can think of a few right now!”

You looked surprised, which was an offense (none taken, but an offense nonetheless) to him. Sure, he would not say he was one hundred percent sure, false advertising was a crime, but he was at least ninety percent sure, which was more than decent by his standards.

“Oh? What do you think Malleus is trying to do?”

“It’s not that he doesn’t have his own sense of agency, but I have my reasons to believe that the chairman influenced him to visit you during his free time,” Sebek sighed, growing more and more embarrassed as the list of reasons began writing themselves in his brain. Was he actually going to reveal all of it to you?!

Of course he was. He never quite got the ability to keep his mouth shut unless told or, well, with you sometimes.

“Him coming here was probably due to a few things. First, they’re trying to teach me some kind of lesson. That is–”

“Wait, lesson?” you laughed, finding his answer a little absurd, “Do you think seeing me is a punishment?”

“OF COURSE NOT!” he denied immediately, “To imply as such is downright repugnant!”

“Pfft, it was a joke!”

“I don’t see how it could be humorous.” Sebek shook his head, wondering how you could afford to smile at his displeasure. What a terrible thing for someone to find your company even the least bit unpleasant; even more terrible, for someone to think he could dislike it, dislike you. “In any case, what I meant by lesson is that they might want to remind me that, as a bodyguard, my protection should not be limited to my employers and family. Rather, it should extend to good people. Like you.”

“That’s… That’s quite the sweet conclusion to arrive to, but…” you trailed off for a moment, as though hesitating to continue. “Sebek, do you really think that’s the reason Malleus told you to stay?”

“It would make sense, but there are other reasons, I’m sure.”

“Okay, then tell me another, since I’m not too convinced.”

“Well… It could be a reward,” Sebek said, “for a job well done. Instead of having to continue working at this hour, which I would be happy to do, I’m proud of what I can do as a bodyguard. I’m sure some consideration is in play by allowing me to spend time with a friend instead.”

“Ah, well, yes, but also no. I’m not sure how you can get it, but also not? At the same time?” you laughed, awkward but not demeaning. It still perturbed him, though.

“Okay? Then explain your thought process, then,” Sebek huffed, slightly frustrated at what he was not getting, “You seem to have talked a decent amount with my boss before I got here, somehow to the point that you can understand his way of thinking already.”

“I would, but he told me to keep it between us.” Before he could complain and demand to know anyway, you switched the subject very deliberately and, to your fortune, rather effectively. “So you think getting to spend time with me is a reward?”

Sebek’s eyebrows furrowed, indignant at your choice of ignoring his inquiry and at himself for not catching his word choice. Reward, was that the word he used?

“Hmph! Don’t get too haughty about it now!” he insisted, a warning that you would likely not take to heart, “It’s less reward and more a rewarding feeling, like something nice to look forward to before I end my day.”

“I see.” Except you’re not looking at him again, despite there being no one else to look at. Sebek should be frustrated, as he tended to be when people did not pay attention to him when he addressed them, but there’s something soft about your expression that has him okay with the slight impoliteness. He supposed even someone like him could fall victim to favoritism after all.

There’s another reason he could have told you that comes into mind, but he swallows it for now.

“I’ll go get you something to eat,” you told him, suddenly standing up and leaving him alone at his usual table. Sebek realized that might have been the first time the both of you had simply talked without anything in front of the both of you, no barriers, no disruptions. It was like those signs that were hung up in establishments sometimes, telling people to talk or read a book instead of using their phones and asking for the internet password.

Sebek abided by those quite a lot, reading whatever book he could lay his hands on (or an electronic book if his bag was strapped for space), but he never could have imagined talking to someone about… topics that he had never discussed with anyone, for a lack of a better term.

“There’s something I’ve been thinking about.”

“Yes?” You looked up suddenly from the plate of pastries you had picked up for him, genuinely curious and perhaps even showing an anticipatory flash of excitement. “Lay it on me.”

“So how long was my boss in the café? If you can’t give me the specifics… What were the topics, at the very least?”

“Oh? Interrogating me, are you?” you laughed, as though amused, though you looked away and had gone back to piling pastries, now on a second plate, so he could not see your expression. “Don’t worry, I only said good things about you.”

Shame as it was, it was alright. Even without seeing your eyes, he knows you are not one to lie, especially with such a matter important to him.

On one hand, he likes (more than, even, perhaps adores) the idea that you talked about him, good things at that. Beyond that, the idea that you could compliment him to his superior, a person he’s heavily respected since childhood, pleased him heavily. With that said…

It’s not jealousy or envy, per say. He knows what those taste like—he’s been eating and swallowing them up for years, after all—which is how he knows what he’s feeling isn’t anything associated with the sin. Rather, he supposes he’s… concerned. That talking to others about him would give you a certain impression of him, one that’s not very capable after all, even though he goes on and on about how dedicated and passionate he is when it comes to his job.

Dedication is one thing. Ability is another.

The thing is, Sebek’s come to the realization that he wants, needs you to think of him as someone capable, though he can’t be sure why the idea of you in particular showing disappointment in him scares him so much.

“Do you think I’m lacking in any means?” Sebek breathed out the question without any context, and while you looked somewhat surprised at the question, you don’t grill him for it either. Maybe you understood what he meant—you had gotten good at that, he thought, understanding him in a way others failed to.

“I can’t say for sure,” you replied honestly. You sit in front of him once more, placing two plates in front of him that would go unnoticed and untouched for a little while longer. “When it comes to work in particular. However… Most people aren’t exactly built to be perfect in everything, so everyone is lacking in something.”

You could have stopped there. It’s a model answer to a question he had sprung up on you for no real reason other than to see what you think or, maybe, to reassure himself over this and that. 

You don’t stop. Instead, you looked him in the eye and asked,

“Do you want me to tell you what I really think?”

“Please,” Sebek said, desperate not just for praise, but for feedback. As long as it was an opinion you held of him, that you had an opinion on him that wasn’t so… typical, he supposed.

“I think that when it comes to your character, I think you’re doing your best to become better and better each day. Whether this is the path you continue to take in the future or not, I think there’s one thing you will never lack—it’s your dedication.”

Sebek’s beaming the rest of the night, even when it’s mostly silent—him regaining his energy and calories, you asking him questions here and there about his day, him throwing them back at you. It’s peaceful and he’s happy, he’s happy and it’s got nothing to do with Malleus or Lilia or winning in a friendly martial arts spar against Silver; it’s got nothing to do with his parents doting on him or his siblings making him his favorite food. It’s got all to do with you and it’s just… terribly wonderful. 

It’s a minute after midnight when he stands by the entrance again, smile a little smaller, regretful to have to go, but teeth still blinding nonetheless. He’s thinking if he should ask if he can help you clean up next time, or if he should offer to drive you home—some other excuse to stick around a little longer, all under the guise of his boss’ orders, when you interrupt his reverie.

“Sebek, before you go, I need to ask you something.” You stood by the door. You don’t invite him in nor do you step outside with him, but you keep the door open to be able to talk to him. “Or tell you something. Both.”

“What is it?”

“Malleus told me your awareness levels are… a work in progress, but do you really not understand his intentions? Or, one of them, at least,” you asked, “I’m sure he and Lilia and Silver are very nice people who genuinely want you to spend more time with me as a friend, and that they’re curious about me as a person because I’m your friend, but it’s a little clear to me that they’re trying to see if they can get something else to happen by giving us more time alone, or purposefully seeking me out during a time you would usually come by.”

Sebek did not answer immediately, not because he did not understand where you were getting at, but because he had not wanted to acknowledge it. His awareness skills, he was told, were something he needed work with, but the base level was not zero.

After all, every mention of you brought upon implications upon implications. At that point, even he would get it. It was just that… it was embarrassing for you to realize it as well, so he tucked the reason he was very well-aware existed at the back of his mind.

Unfortunately, you already realized it, too.

With the silence that followed, you decided to continue.

“Malleus told me to keep this a secret, but it didn’t feel right,” you admitted, somewhat cautiously, like the man would be able to hear you break a promise, “so I’m telling you now. He was asking me what I thought about you, mostly, or what I felt. Anything to gauge if the two of us were actually in a relationship or if there was some way to set us up or get us together.

“It’s nice that he cares, but, you know, still a little shocking to have some world famous celebrity come up to you and ask you about your intentions with his bodyguard. Shouldn’t it be the other way around?”

“I have to apologize,” Sebek said, unsure of who, if there was anyone, really, to blame for the situation. He knew you had started it by appearing in their sights during the fanmeet, but he was the one who brought you up, and… Sebek was loathe to so much as think it, but even his seniors played fault, too, no matter how well-meaning they were.

“I’m sorry for bringing you into this. They’re just… I don’t mention anyone other than my family. I’m not exactly the most…” His voice dropped to a whisper, as though unwilling to admit something. “What I’m trying to say is that I hope you’re not off put by me all of a sudden because of this.”

“What? Of course not!” Without a second even passing you had countered the idea immediately, and in the evening, the sun had shone in his heart once more. “I was worried you would be put off by it! I mean, you never… I mean I like having you around, so it would kind of, really suck if you stopped because of, you know.”

You waved your hands around, unable to find the appropriate word. Sebek, articulate as he tried to be, understood the feeling this time around.

“No, no! It’s not a big deal to me! These kinds of things happen all the time in the entertainment industry, I’ve heard all the complaints first hand! If they’re mentally strong enough to handle all those rumors about them, then something this small shouldn’t bother me, nor should it you!” he proclaimed, and you nodded your head in agreement. 

“Thank the Sevens… I was seriously worried… You’re too important to me.”

Sebek stiffened in place. For a moment, he thought he would burst into… something, maybe flames, maybe an explosion, just something crackling and sparking and sparkling. You looked like you had expected him to shout, too, but when his voice had left his throat it had cracked like he was going through puberty once more. Uncertain, unsure, unconfident—words that he believed had long left his vocabulary since.

“I’m important to you?” Sebek did not quite realize it then, but he asked not for a clarification but a repetition. He heard it right, but what he needed was to hear it again.

“You’re important to me, Sebek.”

Sebek’s face was colored a bright red—he can see it through the nearby window’s reflection, hazy as it may be at this hour. 

It’s through that reflection, too, that he realized his hands had been shaking, torn between wanting to cover up his face and the smile growing back on it, to trying to hold onto… something, someone. He settled for curling one up in a fist, then clutching the lapels of his suit jacket the other. 

“I SEE! I SUPPOSE I…” He tried to respond with his usual bravado, but he could not compel himself to do it this time around. “Ahem, I…”

“Hey, you don’t have to–”

“No, let me say it,” he interrupted quickly. Your consideration was always appreciated, but he wanted to make things fair, to make sure you understood. “To you, I feel the same. You are… You are someone I… 

“You are precious to me.”

“Ah?” You let out a huff, some kind of sound of disbelief. He can’t blame you—he had meant to echo what you had told him for it would be the truth anyway, and yet a different statement had come out instead. “I thought you were going to say… Seriously…!”

Then, you shut the door on him. Before Sebek can so much as worry if he had suddenly ruined everything, you go from leaning against the counter—the transparency of the door had ruined your ability to hide yourself from him—to stomping right back up to the door, opening it wide.

“I’ll see you tomorrow. Please stay safe on the way back,” you breathed out, somehow looking more frazzled within such a short time frame.

“Of course I will.”

“Okay. Good.” Then, you do something he had only seen people do in the movies, something he had thought would never happen in real life, much less to him. 

You pulled him closer by his tie, almost as though you had wanted to drag him right back inside with you. Instead, though, you tug just strong enough to make him jolt forwards, letting him do the work of aligning himself to be right in front of you. With an anticipation he had never felt before, he abruptly shut his eyes, not knowing what else to do. 

Unlike the movies, you don’t leave a kiss on his lips. Because you are friends, and most friends don’t just… do that, he thinks. However, the chaste peck you leave on his lips does not feel that friendly either. 

There’s room for doubt, of course, because you are one of the only friends he even has, and the feelings he has with you have felt different than everyone else, but he just knows, for once not with his mind but with his heart, that he should not have felt that way receiving a kiss on the cheek from someone he saw as…  as…

“Good night!” you shouted, emulating his usual volume, before running back inside, actually trying to hide yourself from him this time.

On the drive home he tries to simply move past everything, but the whole event—the whole night, really—just keeps replaying in his head like a broken record. The stoplight is green and he’s thinking about how you’re such a wonderful friend and that you were exhibiting normal friend behavior. The stoplight is red and he has one hand off the steering wheel, too busy keeping it next to the cheek you had kissed.

Sebek tried to move on, really, but the thing is—

It’s almost one in the morning, so it’s a given that all the stores are closed. Some stores, however, keep the lights in their display windows open. He never would have noticed it before, but with Silver’s voice ringing in his head, it taunts him now.

—Sebek’s not very good at moving past anything.

Sebek didn’t believe in magic, he was a little too old for that, but that did not stop him from believing you might have cursed him somehow, maybe put some kind of magic in that tumbler you gave him, or the sweets he definitely did not enjoy that much and only ate for the dose of carbohydrates he needed.

It had to be some kind of curse, because why else was he actually heeding Silver’s advice—Silver, of all people!—regarding what kind of gift you might enjoy. Why was he pulling up his maps application for a store he had never even known existed until he passed by it some nights ago while thinking about you! Isn’t that crazy?!

“I can type it, you know,” you offered, comfortably strapped with a seatbelt at the back of his car. “Not that I know where we’re going in the first place, but…”

“I’ve got it,” he insisted, having already saved the address previously. “You’ll see. It’s just ten minutes away from here.”

“Should I be nervous?” you asked with a short laugh, “I feel like I should be, especially since I’m strapped so securely at the back of your car instead of, you know, the front next to you.”

“It’s what I’m used to, so it was just my instincts telling me to make you sit there,” Sebek admitted, “you can sit at the front if you want later.”

“Nice! Still don’t know where we’re heading, though. I don’t recognize the store name you inputted.”

“I passed by it while driving home one time,” while I was freaking out thinking about you kissing me, except not really the type of kissing people expect when they hear the term kissing, except it felt like a real kiss to me  anyway !

“I thought you might like some of the items they sold there.”

“Aww! Since when were you such a sweetheart?” you cooed, and Sebek used the excuse of being too busy paying attention to the road to respond to what you said. 

“I’m surprised you’re free today, though, since you don’t seem like the type to skimp out on work. You give me the vibes of someone who would try to train somehow by going to the gym or something when you have a break.”

“That’s true,” he replied, “though I’m not some kind of musclehead, if that’s what you’re implying!” he said, “I also do other things, though, like dropping by bookstores in the area, or attending interesting lectures in my alma mater, or–”

“–or seeing your favorite café owner after hours?” He looked at you through the rear-view mirror, watching you eye him expectantly. You might even be pouting—he’s not sure, he doesn’t want to spend too long looking at your mouth. He sighed.

“No, I do that even when I don’t have days off,” he corrected you, “It would be more accurate to say that I also spend my afternoons with a café owner, now.”

“What’s with the aversion to calling me your favorite? Do you have another café owner friend that I have to worry about?” you complained, more as a joke than anything, but Sebek felt compelled to appease you anyhow.

“Accusing me of being disloyal? How insolent!” he huffed, “Did I waste my paid leave on you after all?”

Sebek was lucky he was the one behind the wheel, considering you looked just about ready to slam the horn of the car… or slam him against it, he can’t be sure.

“Wait, I thought you were free?!”

“I AM! Why do you think I’m here? I took a leave, which means I’m free for the rest of the day!”

“I thought it was just a day off or something! Like, Malleus told you you didn’t have to accompany him anywhere or something!”

“I mean he did tell me that, or else I would be working.” He rolled his eyes, because was it not obvious that he would not just skip work if he felt that he was needed? He did not even think he would be ALLOWED to. “I’m healthy enough to never be ill so I don’t use them up. If anything, they were very much alright with letting me take a leave once I told them my reasoning.”

“Well when you put it that way,” you laughed, “they probably think you’re getting time off to take me out on a date or some–SEBEK EYES ON THE ROAD!”

“Don’t spring up something like THAT on me all of a sudden!” His hand gripped the wheel tightly, chest heaving as he very nearly ran a red light. “Not that you’re wrong, but, you know!”

“I definitely won’t while we’re on the road,” you muttered, tearing your eyes away from him to look outside of the window, “but, like… You know they’re going to ask you about today later, right?”

“I have time to figure out how to word my report.” He cleared his throat, “Okay, wait, we’re here. You can step out and head in already,  if you want. Parallel parking is… parallel parking.”

“No, no, I want to see how long it takes you,” you snickered, “come on, if you want to boast about being a terrific driver, this is essential to perfect.”

“Heh, you think you’re so cheeky and clever. This is why I shouldn’t favor you over anyone else—you’re too keen on taking advantage of it!” Ignoring that he had essentially admitted that he did favor you, he shooed you out of his car. When it came to parking properly, he had to use all of his mirrors and… Honestly, he was a little terrified he’d damage someone’s car because he miscalculated, distracted by your presence.

It takes him three minutes, which is way better than his latest record of four. He thinks it might be because he doesn’t want to keep you waiting, knowing he wouldn’t want to be kept waiting, too.

“Sebek, look!” You tugged onto the sleeve of his sweater as soon as he entered the store, attempting to navigate him carefully through the aisles, shelves filled with fragile objects and breakables that neither of you wanted to pay for.

Taking him to a more secluded area, you pick up a mug to show him.

“Doesn’t it look like you?”

“Because it’s green?” he deadpanned.

“No, no, look closely at the crocodile!” you argued. It was hard not to look closely since you were waving it right in front of his face. Other than the similarity in colors, he’s really not sure how it’s supposed to be him.

“I don’t see what you’re talking about.”

“I’ll make you see it then,” you proclaimed, “I’m getting it, then I’ll serve all your hot drinks with this mug so you’ll be forced to stare right at it. Then, you’ll realize I’m right.”

“You’re getting it because it looks—because you think it looks like me?! What kind of reason is that?” he coughed, pretending he did feel the least bit flustered by you. He took you here because he thought you might appreciate getting some nice mugs or plates or something for your cafe, and the first thing you pick out is something for him?! Isn’t that just unfair?!

“Oh, and I’m getting this one as well!” His eyes follow your fingertips, seeing you point at a mug themed after a brown rodent. Given that the animal-themed mugs seemed to be in alphabetical order, then that one was…

“You know capybaras are too big for crocodiles to swallow, right,” he explained, wondering if you were being purposeful in your selections thus far, “that’s why they can swim in the same waters.”

“In my heart of hearts that means they have a close relationship! Which means, I’ll be using that mug from now on, thank you very much,” you grinned at him, and all Sebek can do is take the two mugs from you, a lot more careful with his hold than he usually is. He’s pretty sure there’s only one left of the designs you’ve picked out, so it would be troubling if anything had happened to them.

“I can’t say I would have picked THESE out, but we went here for you, after all,” he began. He really did think there were designs more to his taste, like the squirrel themed one he saw by the display window, but he did not take his leave to go shopping for himself.

He was heeding Silver’s advice by getting you something practical you could use and, well, this was what he had thought of.

“So if you like these, then we’ll get them.”

“Wait… Sebek, are you offering to pay? I…” you trailed off, clearly remembering something. “No way… Is this about the tokens of friendship? You never forgot about that?”

“I use the tumbler you give me all the time. It’s pretty good for when I need something to drink during workouts, or keeping my drinks warm,” Sebek explained, “I wanted to get you something you could use all the time, too, so if you’ll let me pay, I’d be more than happy to!”

“I’ll think about it… I’m definitely not letting you pay for anything else I pick up, but if it’s those two…” you hummed, not giving an answer right away. 

That was fine by Sebek, who had made a numbered list in his head of things he could do for you as some sort of… he didn’t know how to describe it. Something to prove himself to you, he supposed. Impress you, maybe, or simply make you happy with him. Happy in general.

“You know, I’ve heard people talk about whether people should split the bill on a date or not, but I never really hear discussions about whether people should give gifts or not,” you laughed, “not that this is a date, but the same principle applies.”

You’re walking away from him, perusing the rest of the ceramics and metals, and it’s then the impulsiveness wins in him.

“I MEAN, IT’S NOT LIKE–” He forgets himself and where he is, but you’re walking right back up to him, so he supposes his volume was alright in the moment. When you’re close enough, though, his voice drops to just above a whisper. “It’s not like it can’t be a date. You don’t have to insist that it isn’t.”

“Well you didn’t call it one when you popped the question all of a sudden at five in the morning!” you argued, “Wait, you’re not saying date as in platonic date, right? I have nothing against it, but I don’t want to misunderstand–”

“I meant it in a… in a… You know! The not-just-platonic way!”

“Romantic?” you supplied helpfully… or maybe unhelpfully. He knew the word! Saying it out loud, in public, was just embarrassing for him! Not embarrassed of you or his feelings or anything, just embarrassing in general. He wondered how the leads in those dramas and movies and books made it look so easy when it was the most nerve wracking thing he’s done since his job application!

“Yes, romantic!” he exclaimed, suddenly grateful that there were no other customers besides them, and suddenly uncaring that the only other person—the cashier—could hear him. “If you want!”

“I’ve extended my café hours from eleven in the evening to midnight for you, in case you haven’t noticed,” you informed him, “Do you think I just added salmon pasta to the menu on a whim? Obviously I only added it because you said you liked it!”

“Well you’ve never told me that!” 

“Well, should I go ahead and tell you now? Sebek Zigvolt, terribly intelligent, incredibly cute, and occasionally dense, I–”

“Wait no!” He notices his grip tighten on the mugs, and he softens it just in time before any chips or cracks could appear on either one. “Not that, you know, I don’t… We shouldn’t say that here.”

“Why not?” you asked, not offended but certainly curious. 

“I want it to be more… special?” he cleared his throat, “Not that it can’t be, since you’re here, but I want to be more prepared when I say it, or when I hear it. Whichever comes first.”

“Okay,” you responded, nodding in understanding, “yeah, maybe this was a little out of nowhere. We don’t want to have regrets or anything.”

“No, we don’t,” he agreed. As much as he thought he would not regret any of his feelings for you, he did not want you to look back at this day and wish he had admitted his feelings for you some other way. He needed it to be perfect. “I’m glad we’re on the same page. About this and about, ah, our feelings… Right?”

“Right!” You left little room for doubt with your answer. You never seemed to when it came to Sebek. While he had absolutely no plans to admit it to your face anytime soon, he appreciated the lengths you went to make sure he would never misunderstand you or your intentions. Just as he was a man devout to chosen people, he was a man prone to doubt.

“That said… Is your offer to count this as a date still up for grabs?”

Sebek Zigvolt was well into his twenties, so the idea that he was back to talking to an inanimate object—a mug of all things—was bizarre to him. Downright embarrassing, actually. Sometimes he found himself regretting buying that squirrel-shaped mug, but you were just way too convincing and now he uses it to store his toothbrushes. Wonderful.

“Should I do it today?” he asked. It had no mouth so it could not speak, but the painted-on eyes staring back at him held a resounding no. 

“You’re right. Domesticity is one thing, but is it not too casual to confess in my apartment of all places…?” he murmured.

He checked his teeth for any food or stains one last time—old habits die hard when your parents are dentists—before leaving the bathroom.

“Thanks for letting me have lunch here,” you told him. You’re putting your shoes back on already and it reminded him that he, too, had to get back to work in a short while. “It’s hard to have a relaxing meal in my own café sometimes. I feel like I’ll end up doing work instead of eating.”

“And that would be no good! One must always rest without the distraction of work in the midst!” Sebek declared, walking over to the dining table, finding that you had already washed the dishes without him. You even remembered where he hid the towels—it took you longer to find them last time.

“Exactly, so I hope you don’t mind me coming here again. Though, if you’re free, I also know a good–”

A knock on the door interrupted the both of you. Sebek frowned, immediately reaching for something he could use to whack someone with in case of an emergency. Meanwhile, you walked over there without any hesitation.

“I’m already heading out anyway, so I might as well,” you explained, partially unlocking the door to get a peep of who was outside. “Oh. Silver, right?”

SILVER?! What was that man doing outside of his apartment? Not that he’d never been, but still! Couldn’t he have at least sent a text or call warning him? How rude, especially since he had a guest over, and…!

Oh Sevens, he had you over, and Silver saw. 

“That would be me,” the man replied, face less stiff than usual. His expression is somewhere in between actually smiling and trying to de-widen his eyes. “You’re Sebek’s…”

“Yeah, let’s leave it at that,” you laughed sheepishly, “I assumed you would be Silver because of the hair. You probably get that a lot. Anyway, SEBEK! YOUR FRIEND IS HERE!”

“WHY ARE YOU SHOUTING,” he shouted, “I CAN SEE HIM.”

“THEN I’LL LEAVE YOU TO IT,” you shouted back, “I’LL GO BACK TO WORK NOW.”

You unlocked the door fully now, allowing Silver to enter, you to exit, and Sebek… to also exit right after you. He knew it was not very hospitable of him to leave Silver to tend to his apartment, but it would only be for a minute anyway! The INTRUDER could handle himself for that long!

“Hold on,” Sebek called out to you, grabbing hold of your hand. “I should give you a proper farewell. It’s good manners.”

“You’ll see me again later anyway,” you laughed, “okay, come closer.”

Sebek’s gotten himself into a certain routine, he would put it, one that he loathed to break. Routine was routine for a reason, and there was no reason for him to not abide by it. What must be done shall be done.

You pressed your lips just next to his, narrowly avoiding them in favor of the corners where his smile lines were. Sebek suddenly wanted to go on a run so he could blame the sudden spike of his heart rate on the physical activity.

“I’ll see you later,” you said as you pulled away—from his face, from his hand, from him. This would have been the part where he would have offered to either drive or walk you back, but…

He sighed as he went back into his apartment. He wanted to muster up a frown for Silver, but he was still too giddy to stop himself from smiling in time. 

“Who said you could make yourself home in my place?” Silver, seated on his sofa and idly watching the news on his television, looked back up at him with a cup of coffee in his hand. Thankfully not one of the few cups you’ve brought and left in his apartment, but still. “And why are you here anyway?”

“I was nearby, so I thought it would be more efficient to ride together. Save gas, it’s better for the environment.” The man took a sip of his coffee (without sugar or cream or milk! Just how did he manage?), humming appreciatively. “Huh. Your partner’s pretty good at this.”

“That’s true,” Sebek replied, and then realized his mistake. “But, like I said, the two of us are NOT in a relationship.”

“There’s no point in lying, if you’re worried about being professional, since we don’t have a no-dating policy to abide by, unlike some talents out there,” Silver countered. That was NOT the issue though, unbeknownst to the man.

“I would NOT lie about this to you, and even more so to Sir Malleus and Sir Lilia!” he insisted. “We’re currently dating!”

“I’m sorry?” 

“Dating. No label yet. Like courting. There is a difference!” He said it like it was incredibly obvious, even though he had not realized there was a difference between going on dates and being in an official relationship before you had told him about it.

“Ah, well… As long as you’re happy.” Sebek wasn’t sure if Silver actually understood correctly, but he nodded his head anyway.

“Exactly. I feel happy, so you don’t have to pry.”

That was what Sebek told him, but, if he’s being honest… He really does want to confess soon. It’s why after a moment of silence, he caves—

“BUT… You know, if you have any advice, I would listen attentively. Even if it’s subpar. Your previous advice regarding the gifts were decent, so I would not be against hearing what you would have to say.”

Actually the advice was more than decent, considering it somehow led him to being one step closer to being with you romantically, which was more than he ever could have hoped. However, he did not want to give Silver the satisfaction and credit, so he would not say as much.

“You could have just said thank you…” Silver deadpanned, shaking his head.

Sebek should have realized that the perfect place, the perfect time, would be that which was both special and familiar to the both of you.

He’s reading through a small binder of papers his boss had given him. He’s red-faced, slightly frustrated, but extremely focused at each and every word and line and note written in the margins, eyes intense like the words were his prey, his meal, like consuming the words would mean he would embody them.

You clearly notice how his attention’s been completely captured by the papers in his hand considering you call him out for it. You never used to ask considering he sometimes held confidential documents, things even he can’t tell you, but you can’t seem to hold your curiosity this time around.

“My boss gave me his scripts,” he replied, “to clarify, he selected a few scenes from some of the movies and dramas he’s acted in.”

“You don’t seem as excited as I thought you would be.”

“It’s not that I’m not grateful!!! Being able to have papers from the original copy is wonderful! I’m sure these count as prized possessions!” he exclaimed.

“But?”

But the reason his boss gave them to him was embarrassing! His employer is terribly generous and kind, as expected, and maybe a little later he’ll be elated about being gifted them, but the fact that Malleus gave them to him so he could get an idea of how to confess to you simply made him want to shrivel up and wither.

A part of him didn’t want to explain it to you at all, perhaps think up some excuse on the spot, but he knew that honesty was important in all relationships, so he shouldn’t hide it from you. 

There’s also the fact that he’s not the best liar, but that’s entirely irrelevant.

“I told you that I wanted to wait for the perfect time to confess, so I would have the right words to explain my feelings for you this time around… But I’ve been having difficulty formulating the perfect order of words, order of sentences.” Sebek was bashful at the admission. Even though he knew it not to be true, he sometimes felt that you were better at conveying your feelings for him than he for you. He felt repressed by comparison, even though he did his best to showcase his affections whatever way he could.

In him was the desperate need to not just make you feel how you made him feel, but to make sure you understood just how you have charmed him; that, at times, his heart was more yours than his.

“With that, Sir Malleus, or perhaps Silver or Sir Lilia—who’s to say who made the suggestion—gave me a few scenes to read so I could be inspired to finally confess my feelings to you.”

“Oh!” you looked somewhat pleased by his response, Sebek thought with relief. At least you’re not upset that, after all this time, he’s still having trouble to the point that he’s trying his luck with external sources. “Well, do you think it’s effective?”

“I can’t say for sure,” he replied, “the lines are well written themselves! It’s just… Imagining myself saying them feels off, to say the least.”

“Well, you don’t have to restrict yourself to imagining,” you told him, “you can actually say them out loud.”

“In front of you?!” He would have done a spit take had he been drinking a beverage, which would have humiliated him and ruined his chances of ever confessing to you, he dramatized in his head. 

“It won’t count as your confession. Just think of it like a read through! Hasn’t Malleus ever made you do that while practicing his lines?”

“He has… So I suppose I do have some experience in this matter, even if it’s nothing professional,” he nodded to himself, arriving at a decision. “Yes. Alright. Well, have at this—I come here with no expectations, only to profess, now that I am at liberty to do so, that my heart is and always will be…yours…”

“Well, the line itself was rather captivating, and I liked the way you said it, although…” you stifled a laugh, “You looked so serious reading the script that I can hardly call it heartfelt.”

“That line wasn’t in the book the movie was an adaptation of,” he pointed out, a factoid he just happened to know. “I was just reminded of it while reading the script… I wonder if the line is too direct? What about… Anyone who has seen your smile has known perfection. You instill grace in every common thing and divinity in every careless gesture.”

“Very poetic,” you nodded, then joked, “if you ever consider switching careers, I’ll be your most toxic and supportive fan. I’ll go carry around your polaroid by daylight, then fight your antis by midnight.”

“How silly,” he shook his head, pretending he wasn’t a little flattered, even if it was a mere joke. “You already have a polaroid at the back of your phone case, remember?”

“Correction! Of us, not of you! Which, putting it that way, might be even better!” you laughed, “Though no point of using that against me when you have your copy tucked nicely in your wallet.”

“I’ve been meaning to take it out.”

“Sebek, you decorated it. With stickers your parents gave you when you had your last check up.”

“I TOLD them I was too old for stickers, but they insisted on giving me a sheet anyway!” he said, a well-prepared excuse in case you asked, “It would have gone to waste!”

“Of course,” you chuckled, “remind me to ask for a sticker sheet the next time I go to the dentist. Maybe I’ll even go out of my way to go to your parents’ clinic so we could match.”

“You’re ridiculous,” and terribly, terribly sweet and lovely, but ridiculous nonetheless.

“You love me anyway!”

“I’m not sure why I do.”

“Just like that!” Sebek doesn’t get what you’re on about, and he doesn’t for a while, even as you’re grinning at him, cheerful, beautiful. Honestly, he wishes he knew so he could do or say it again. 

“Just like what?”

“Sebek, you just told me you loved me.”

He froze.

“Had I?” he asked, voice a little shaky. Had he truly? If that was really the case, what an uneventful confession! How regretful and simple and incredibly plain, and–

“I’m not sure if you’ve ever considered this, but I don’t really need anything grand or incredibly put together.”

You take the papers from his hands, gently putting them to the side so his hands could hold yours instead. Sebek adjusts his grip; holds them more delicately—just tight enough a grip to feel that it’s truly you he’s holding, but loose enough to keep you comfortable. Your hands are precious; as is all of you. Not a prized possession for you cannot be possessed, but something to be treasured regardless.

“I feel that you deserve it, though,” he argues, a little forlorn, “I would speak my thoughts if I could. My mouth does not have the eloquence my brain has, I think.”

“You can try regardless,” you say, “it’s something I love about you. That in spite of failure, you will try and try.”

You, endeared to him beyond the limit he thought possible, had little trouble in convincing him. How could he, eager to impress you and eager to prove himself to you, refuse such a request? How could he when you tell him there is something about him you love, to state that there is love in your heart for him? How could he not attempt to say the same?

If it is for you, then he will swallow down his pride and try.

“In the past, I had wondered if the feelings I felt for you were that of romance or if I had been influenced by the opinions of others, if I even understood what romance was. Everybody knows that not all movies and books are true to life, and I was afraid I had misconstrued my feelings of friendship—for friends, to me, were few and far between—with attraction, if attraction was misconstrued with love. 

“But it had dawned on me, what I had felt for you, that night you had first kissed me.” He peels his eyes away from your own momentarily, pained an action as it is, glancing at the entrance. “The first night, I excused my constant thinking about it, about you, to the new feeling I had never experienced before. The second night, I was still thinking of you, and I excused it as simply wanting to sort out my thoughts as to what that action meant for you, all your intents and purposes.”

“And now?” His eyes returned to you, idly watching your lips move as you spoke. “What realization had you come to?”

“Even now, after several phases of the moon have come to pass, I still think of you—night and day, morning and evening. Nothing has left, for the only change would be the growth of my feelings.”

There is nobody else in the café, and yet he drops his voice to a whisper, as though not even the air would be allowed to hear what was meant for you and you alone. 

“I am sure more than ever, for how long I have tried to dispute or explain away my feelings, the tests I have done to make sure I could only be genuine with you… Tried and tested, tried and true, my heart and my soul is truly yours.”

“Sebek…”

You pull your hands away. The loss is mourned.

He thinks you’re saying something. He thinks and not knows because his ears stop working, just for a moment; among the vessels of his senses, only his eyes remain attuned, fixated on the way you stood from your seat, ridding yourself of the distance the coffee table forced between the two of you. It is only when you press your forehead against his that he feels everything again.

“Have I conveyed it to you?” he breathes out, pleading, “Do you understand me?”

“You never should have doubted yourself. I understand you perfectly,” you reply, smiling softly. “So let me make myself understood by you, too.”

end notes | masterlist of all my works | other sebek fics -> (the stories told, the charm you hold) -> (capture my heart, my voice into art) -> (stick to the script)

[ 1 ] Title comes from the phrases "tried and tested" and "tried and true", which I just combined with the sign off "yours truly".

[ 2 ] The AU idea came to me when I saw people make fancams of the bodyguards and back-up dancers of idols. It was kinda cute. I think they really deserve a lot of appreciation. Then the idea grew from there!

[ 3 ] For everyone’s ages, I sort of imagined Sebek and Silver to be in their 20s, basically typical post-college age. Malleus I’m not sure, let’s say 30s, and Lilia will be ??? (no one knows his age he has hid the documents). Basically they’re all working adults.

[ 4 ] Malum in se: wrong or evil in itself; sinful and wrong by nature (as opposed to malum prohibitum, which means something is wrong due to law dictating it).

[ 5 ] The first quote Sebek says is ripped from the Sense and Sensibility adaptation. Spoilers! Many think that the famous confession line, “I come here with no expectations, only to profess, now that I am at liberty to do so, that my heart is and always will be...yours," is also in Jane Austen's book, but it's actually just in the movie! I actually like the adaptation and the line, by the way! Just a fun fact!

[ 6 ] The second quote is altered to be gender neutral. It's from Edmond Rostand's Cyrano de Bergerac. The original is, "Anyone who has seen her smile has known perfection. She instills grace in every common thing and divinity in every careless gesture.'

[ 7 ] Fun fact! Malleus purposefully chose scenes from book adaptations since he knows Sebek is a reader, so he would appreciate it more.

[ 8 ] I actually had a lot of ideas for this fic and universe in general that I just can't fit in so maybe I'll revisit it some other time with one of the other Diasomnia boys.

last edited: 19/03/2023, for misspellings, changing cafe -> café

[wordy-little-witch]

Omega Buggy Hours

• his normal scent is pretty mild all things considered, but he works with his chemicals and stuff so much that he typically smells like his workshop and sea salt. But beneath it all, his natural scent is like freshly baked lemon cake, something vaguely vanilla.

• he doesn't really have the urge and drive to have kids of his own, but he does adopt most of his crew into his pack.

• the Buggy pirates on their own are a pack, and they all answer to their captain. Socially, it's highly uncommon for a pack to be lead by an Omega, but their crew is already absolutely off the rails from normal anyway. They're all happy with it.

• the one and only time a newer Alpha tried to usurp Buggy, the crew began absolutely cackling. Buggy humored him. He even offered an old school brawl. It lasted four minutes, and three of which were Buggy toying with him before wiping the floor with his ass. Cabaji knows better now.

• Crocodile and Mihawk, upon joining up with Buggy's group, still do not know that the clown is an Omega. It was known in Impel Down, but the preventions for mating there boil down to a typical collar and medications as meal times (when they were remembered). Croc just knew Buggy had a collar. Some Betas even got those. Buggy kept his on out of choice and self preservation.

• Mihawk inevitably called Shanks one night on Karai Bari, dramatically yet stoically bemoaning the clown and his antics, wondering aloud why none of the visibly and obviously stronger Alphas in his group ever Challenged him. Shanks laughs, then goes serious when he says, "be careful if you decide to do it. You really would not enjoy what happens next." Mihaw takes it as an allusion to the responsibility. It is not.

• Luffy absolutely knows Buggy is an Omega but he also could not be paid to give a single fuck. Why would he? He was raised by an Beta woman who commanded her bandits, of which included all sorts. His big brother is an Beta (Ace) and an Alpha (Sabo) and he's an Omega himself. He doesn't care. Gender doesn't equal strength. Shanks taught him that, too (even if he already kinda knew)!

• Buggy's Heats are sporadic - a byproduct of his mental and physical conditions. They're... essentially akin to menstrual cycles, where ovulation and hormonal influxes occur.

• Croc and Mihawk, when they find out the Truth, are flabbergasted, and have a brief stint where they both make an attempt at Manners. Buggy explodes at them for it. They argue. Buggy proposes a mild Challenge - not for control or dominion over the Pack, but to prove a point. They agree.

• Buggy actually has time to plan, plot and arrange the exchange - his specialty. The thing about Buggy is that his talents lie less in all out brawls and more in stuff akin to espionage and tampering. Crocodile goes first, and Buggy takes him down and out within the hour. Mihawk suspects the other of holding back until he sees the expression and flush on Crocodile's face.

• they flip from Polite Manners to Blatantly Pining within an evening. Buggy doesn't even notice. They're both weird, even for Alphas, so he just thinks the new normal is a weird middle ground where they tolerate him but don't belittle him.

• Mihawk calls Shanks, half drunk one night, and asks for advice on courting. Shanks barely holds back the smug I told you so, and instead he asks if the one the dark haired man is interested in is more into traditional practices or more... whimsical things. The smirk is still very much blatant though.

• Crocodile meanwhile is so angry and annoyed and aroused, a dangerous combination. He starts buying little generic gifts and just. Either throwing them at Buggy with a scowl or leaving them in his room.

• frankly, it's a whole hot mess.

• Buggy goes to his squad for advice, and is blindsided when Galdino just casually goes "Oh it seems like they're courting you"

"They're WHAT"

• awkward pining. Stupid gay old men.

• Buggy decides enough is enough eventually and outright asks them if they like him. Crocodile sputters. Mihaw agrees, no hesitation. Buggy nods, grabs Mihawk and yanks him into a kiss. Croc gets his turn right after.

• Shanks wants to he invited to the wedding.

• Luffy ALSO wants to be invited to the wedding.

• Rayleigh and Crocus both don't even know there is a wedding to be invited to until Buggy sheepishly calls them and the next day there are two old men on the island like "where is my little boy"

Just.... shenanigans teehee

[garbagechocolate]

May I request a quick round up of all the characters in Candy land?

And list their personality traits pls(if that's ok for u)

Gotcha gamer

Sun and Moon

Current Guardians of Candyland

They are brothers

Sun is energetic and always eager to make new friends. He can be clingy and panics and even the smallest things though.

Moon is much calmer, eepier. He's got more energy at night and so he catches rule breakers.

Moon catches the Rulebreakers, Sun cooks them.

Y/N

You! Kind of! They're there because I wanted to turn this into a fic but didn't.

Current apprentice of Sun and Moon.

Human turned candylandian

Very chill. And also a little stupid

The anons like to give them guns

Might be getting a name soon?? Idk??

Eclipse aka Candyclipse

Previous Guardian. Quit

Made Sun and Moon

Under all that smug is a sad soggy traumatized cat

Arguably has the most lore out of all of em but I mean

He is old (like 45 idk I forgor)

Anons bully him alot and he's just tired now

Other

Beta Sun and Moon

Appeared out of a portal recently

Creepy but now they're tryna go home

They have they own lore 👍🏻

Meteor

Previous previous Guardian

Made Eclipse

Soft and quiet, but surprisingly condescending, though our view of him is unreliable

He's dead <3

Sunspot/Lemon Teacher

Civilian. Cannot hear you.

You can talk to him via messages on walls!

Teacher. Generally gives lore dumps and world lore

[wongyuseokie]

Zen | x.m.h

Summary: You have muscle soreness, so your boyfriend suggests yoga. It’s hard to stay calm and focus when he looks that good though. 

☆ 18+ minors dni |☀︎fluff | ♕ smut |  ♥ completed works

Word Count: 2473 Pairings:  Xu Minghao x Female Reader Genre/Trope(s)/AUs: Smut, fluff, PWP

Content Warnings: Is Minghao being a yoga instructor a warning? 

Smut Warnings: Fingering, oral sex (female and male receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it up y’all), multiple orgasms. Idk. It’s just filthy. Nipple play. Squirting, fingering. Mirror sex? Sorta. Face riding sorta?

Authors Note: Thank you so much to @flowerboykun for helping me look over this!! 💕 and always thank you to my soulmate @here4btsfics for helping me edit and beta this ilysm 💕 Authors Note 2: @the-boy-meets-evil happy Valentine's Day to you my darling! I hope you enjoy 💕💕💕💕 lot's of luv ur fave demon.

Banner Credits: @classicscreations

 Cross Posted to AO3

© wongyuseokie 2023. All rights reserved.

“Hao, I’m only doing this to show you I love you,” you complained as you plopped down on the yoga mat. 

You had been talking about how you were sore and tired, and your boyfriend suggested yoga, and after a few kisses and puppy eyes, you agreed. 

“Hao,” you said breathlessly as Minghao sat behind you.

“You look hot, by the way,” you complimented as you checked out his reflection in the mirror in the living room. 

“Focus, kitten,” Minghao said, his voice low and husky. 

“Okay, first of all. I’m very hands-on, so if anything makes you uncomfortable, please let me know. Still, there will be gentle touches to help optimise your yoga session and, of course, to help correct any positions,” Minghao explained, his hot breath fanning over your neck. 

You squeaked out a ‘yes,’ as Minghao pulled you closer into his body; his legs were placed on either side of your body. 

“Okay, you’re slouching. Let me, okay?” Minghao said softly, and you nodded as Minghao smiled. You smiled back at him, you could see his reflection in the mirror, and you could see how you were practically locked up in his embrace, not that you minded. Minghao smelt sweet, like oranges and lemons; you wanted to press your face into his neck and take in his scent. 

“Where’s your mind at? Bring it back to the room, and keep your eyes on yourself in the mirror,” Minghao said, making you nod as you moved your eyes back to focus on your reflection of you and Minghao in the mirror. 

“Okay, your back needs to be straighter,” Minghao said as he wrapped an arm around your waist, resting under the swells of your breasts. As he pulled you closer into his body, you bit your lip to keep from moaning as he pulled you into him. You had to suppress another soft moan as your body brushed against his taut body. 

“Good girl,” Minghao praised as he moved his arm away and placed it on your thighs.

“Take five deep breaths in and five out, and then we can start with stretching your legs out,” Minghao suggested, and you nodded, doing as he said. 

You took in five deep breaths, shuddering as Minghao did the same, feeling your pussy flutter as his hot breath fanned over your neck. 

“Good, now open your eyes slowly,” Minghao instructed, his voice soft yet commanding you to want to submit yourself to his touch. 

“Open your legs, spread them out, and I’ll slowly help you stretch them out,” Minghao said, knowing exactly what his words sounded like and how incredibly suggestive they were. 

“Uh, sorry?” You asked, confused at precisely what Minghao wanted from you. 

“Should I show you?” Minghao asked, and you nodded at his reflection, making him smile. 

Minghao moved his hands across your thighs, helping you to uncross your legs and keep them stretched out in front of you. 

“You seem wound up,” Minghao noted with a smirk as he placed his hands on your thighs. “You know, kitten. Sometimes, there are unconventional methods to try out, to put someone at ease,” Minghao purred into your ear, making your pussy clench. 

“Do tell,” you said breathlessly as you felt Minghao turn you around in his grip to face him. Minghao smirked as he leaned in to place his lips on yours, making you melt into the kiss immediately. 

“Relax, sweet girl, if I want to stretch you out properly, I need you to calm down, trust me, I’ll make you feel good,” Minghao said as he moved to kiss you again. 

Minghao’s plump lips moved against yours slowly as you slowly eased into his touch. You sighed in pleasure as he moved his soft lips against yours, felt him run his tongue along your lower lip, and opened your mouth slightly to allow him to push his tongue inside. 

Minghao’s hands wrapped around your thigh as his fingers trailed closer to your cloth-covered cunt. 

“Relax, sweet girl. This will be the best yoga class ever. You’ll feel relaxed,” Minghao purred, and you felt yourself give in and nod. Minghao’s hands moved up to the straps of your sports bra, he pulled away from the kiss to look at you, and you nodded. Minghao pushed your sports bra straps down, hissing when he saw your breasts. 

“Fuck, so pretty,” Minghao praised as his hands moved down from your neck to rest just above your breasts. Minghao moved to start massaging your breasts. 

Minghao squeezed the soft tissue and tugged on your hardening nipples; he replaced his hands with his mouth. He wrapped his lips around your breast, sucking and gently biting your nipples before moving on to the next one, 

“Fuck,” you moaned as you gripped onto him shaking slightly. Minghao pulled his mouth away from you as he pulled you into a kiss. 

“Did you cum from me simply licking your tits?” Minghao asked, and you nodded shyly as you hid your face between his neck and shoulder, and Minghao felt himself harden further as he felt your breasts on his chest. 

“Fucking hell, what will happen when I get my tongue inside you?” Minghao teased, and you squirmed, making him laugh. 

You moaned at his words as Minghao moved his lips back to your breast, his lips sucking your breasts while his thick tongue flicked your nipples. 

“Hao, I’m going to cum,” you moaned as he kept playing with your breasts. You shook on his lap and squirmed as you came down from your second high. Minghao pulled you in for a kiss. 

“Seriously, do you know how hot it is that I can make you cum by just playing with your tits?” You blushed as you hid your head in the space between his neck and shoulder. 

Minghao moved his hand up your thighs, rested it on your leggings, and smirked before speaking. 

“Lie down, and let me take this off you,” Minghao said, and you nodded as Minghao pushed you down onto the mat, pulled off your sports bra, and then tugged off your leggings, leaving you in your damp underwear. 

Minghao moved to place his fingers on your underwear, groaning as he felt the sticky material.

“You’re already fucking wet?” Minghao smirked at you and nodded, sitting up a bit as you watched him touch you. 

“Fucking hell,” Minghao said as he trailed his fingers along your wet folds. 

“Pretty,” Minghao praised as he ran his fingers down to your entrance; he moaned, feeling your wetness. He collected your arousal and trailed his fingers back to your clit. 

Minghao rubbed on your clit in circles, agonisingly slow. He pulled you in for a kiss as he kept rubbing your clit. 

Minghao pulled at your lower lip with his mouth, making you moan. Minghao slipped his thick tongue inside you as you kept whimpering into the kiss. You stilled as your orgasm hit you, his fingers slowly helping you to ride it out. 

Minghao pulled away from the kiss gently as he moved his fingers to your entrance and wet his fingers with your release. He brought his fingers back to his mouth, sucking as he moaned, tasting you. 

“Fuck baby, you taste so good. Come on, open your mouth,” Minghao spoke, and you opened your mouth slightly as Minghao placed his fingers on your lips, sucking his fingers clean. 

“I need to taste you some more, princess,” Minghao said as he placed your legs over his shoulders, smiling as he laid down between your thighs and pushed his thick tongue inside you. Minghao groaned as he tasted you and then moved his mouth to wrap his plush lips around your clit as he sucked. 

Minghao flicked his tongue against your clit, each flick making you arch your back and back into his mouth. He pushed two fingers into you and fingered you hard while you practically rode his face. 

“Fuck,” you gasped as Minghao added another finger. You moaned as you held onto his forearm, as Minghao rubbed his thumb over your clit, while his fingers thrust inside your cunt.

“Pretty girl, one more, give me one more,” Minghao coaxed, and you whimpered as he sped up his fingers inside you, his words pushing you over the edge. 

“Fuck, yes, Hao. Fuck,” you mumbled as you came on his fingers. He slowly pulled his fingers out of you, brought them to his lips, and sucked. “You taste incredible, baby,” Minghao praised as he smiled at you. 

“There are other things to stretch, maybe your mouth as well,” Minghao said cockily, and you nodded as Minghao stood up to strip himself naked. His thick cock stood proud and erect against his toned abs. 

“Come here, baby, let’s test that mouth of yours,” Minghao said as he laid down next to you, and you turned around to get on your knees, and you moved to kneel between his thighs. You would never do something like this, but he was intoxicating, it was like he put you under a spell, and you were willing to submit to his every request. 

You moved your mouth down his body until you reached his thick cock. It was hard and ready; it was begging to be touched. You wrapped your lips around his thick length. You moved your mouth up and down his length, and he started groaning and fisting his hands on the yoga mat. 

“Fucking hell, Y/N, you take me so well.” You moaned around his cock, the vibrations making him buck into your mouth. 

“Fuck Y/N, let me fuck you,” Minghao moaned, and you nodded at him feeling your cunt clench at the thought of his thick cock splitting you open. 

Minghao ran the head of his cock along your wet fold, making you whimper as he did so. He pushed in and went as slow as possible. You were so tight for him. The way your cunt wrapped around him, he thought he would cum right then. You were so wet, warm, and tight for him. 

“Fucking hell, you are so fucking tight.” You moaned as Minghao grabbed your waist and started to thrust into you. 

“Fucking hell Hao,” you sighed as you fell forward, holding the yoga mat for support. 

“So good,” you whimpered as he kept pounding into you. Minghao was so incredibly thick, and his thickness was splitting you in two. It felt so good the way he stretched you out. 

“You like that?” Minghao asked as he slapped your ass. 

“Yes, fucking hell,” you moaned as he kept fucking you, his thrusts relentless, the way he angled his hips to hit the spot inside you that had you begging for more. You wailed as you came, clenching around his cock. Minghao groaned as he came soon after, making you moan as his warmth filled you up. 

He pulled out of you slowly and moved down, placing his mouth on your pussy. His hands grabbed your ass and spread the cheeks apart as he stuck his tongue inside your cunt, licking his cum out of you as you shook with the overstimulation. 

Minghao fingered your cunt until you snapped and wailed as he made you squirt, you felt your legs tremble, and your orgasm took over you. 

Minghao gently laid down next to you and pulled you into his arms. 

“That was so fucking hot,” he groaned as you blushed, hiding your face in his toned chest. 

“Wasn’t that better than a typical yoga session?” Minghao asked. 

“How do you feel?” 

“Zen.” 

[rev-wrath]

As promised, here are some snippets of Knight and the Gotham Rogues. (This was written like a couple of weeks before. Before I got fixated on TUA and Eight. Eight/Devotion lives in my head rent-free, and I am biting them and shaking them like a rabid dog. Knight is in the background being weirded out by it.)

“Mister Cobblepot.” “Sorry about those idiots, alpha. I’ll make sure they’re properly dealt with.” “They didn’t do any harm, beta. And I’m here now, aren’t I?” “’s a shame that the prince ain’t here with you.” “You know how Bruce is.” You let out a faux laugh, careful to make sure that it sounded genuine enough. “Hates large crowds. Besides, he’s a little ill after a day out in the snow with the rest of the pack.” You took your hand back from the beta and offered him a grin. “And what kind of alpha would I be if I forced my dear omega to do what he didn’t want to do?”

~ ♥~

“If you had wanted an invite, I could have given one to you.” “In exchange for what? My greatest fear?” The soft humming- only audible due to your proximity to him- made you want to seriously tuck him closer against you and smother him in your scent. But that was hardly appropriate in this place and considering the rather strange ‘bond but not pack’ relationship you had with the omega. “Jonathan, really?” You felt a pair of hands grip onto your waist and forcibly tug you away from the citrus scented man. Instead, you were in the grip of the infamous Riddler. Tobacco, coffee, and narcissus wrapped around you. “You give gifts to friends.” The Scarecrow scoffed but didn’t protest as Eddie languidly draped himself onto you. His cheek rested against your shoulder. Without a second thought, you tangled your fingers through his ginger hair. No matter how much you looked at him, it was still… weird seeing the change in his appearance.

~ ♥~

A hand cupped your neck, protecting you from the Joker’s touch as Quinn was roughly shoved away from you. You relaxed instinctively, even though you couldn’t quite pinpoint who it was. All you knew was that your inner alpha didn’t protest at all to having this person’s palm against your glands. “Aw, Harv.” Quinn pouted as she fleeted by to the Joker’s side. “Being protective?” It clicked for you then. The familiar scent of agarwood, lemon, and cedar. The familiar warmth pressed against your back. The hand- although different in texture- cupping your skin with a fondness that was contradictorily gentle and rough.

As promised, here I am six hours later. (What a weird therapy circle)

Oz and Knight interaction! Bruce’s public omega status mention! I am interested to see who the idiots in question are, I’m assuming some elites?

Jonathan and Eddie! Tilting my head reading what’s going on with Jonathan, I’ll get context eventually. I love Eddie just going “I’m going here now” and here is just Knight. They are cuddling.

Harley! And Joker, boooo. This also implies that Harvey’s accident is happening in the upcoming chapter? Also Rogue meeting maybe? Or just one between Joker and Harley and Harvey? Knight taking a moment to recognize Harvey is also interesting to me. I would expect them to be able to pick up on it, maybe also a by-product of Harvey’s change?

[skyewritesstuff]

cruel summer (kenny's version)

my masterlist.

entry 4 in my (taylor’s version) songfic series.

summary: a detailed account of your summer fling with kenny mccormick.

pairing: kenny mccormick x reader (college!au kinda)

fandom: south park

warnings:  implied nsfw. substance use (alc/weed/nic). language. vomiting.

notes: based on cruel summer by taylor swift. this was not beta read. we die like kenny.

word count: 7.9k

It all started and ended in Kenny McCormick’s rundown, single cab pickup truck. It was summer time and Kenny’s main friend group had all separated for this one lone week despite everyone being home from college. Stan was still on the outskirts of town at Tegridy Farms. Eric had been dragged out of state to visit family. Kyle was in Denver doing a week-long intensive course. 

Kenny was in community college, about to wrap up an associates in computer sciences, a few classes short of graduation. He was also working full-time at the local Best Buy doing tech support, but somehow he’d managed to have three days off in a row towards the end of the week. However, this had to be the worst time for him to have next-to-nothing to do.

You were in Marjorine’s bathroom, standing over her as she sat on the toilet, pink dye that was scented like lemon drop candy was coating the ends of her naturally blonde hair when your phone rang.

“Marj, can you see who that is and let me decide whether or not I”m gonna get you to answer that?”

The blonde girl laughed, “Sure thing!”

She grabbed your phone and looked at the screen, “It’s Kenny!”

“Kenny McCormick?” 

You said that like there was any other Kenny in your hometown. There was no confusion in your question, though, just a slight bit of disbelief. You’d had feelings for Kenny since high school that’d been a long-kept secret for various reasons. First, you thought Marjorine liked him, but apparently not. In reality, Marjorine is just a helpless romantic who has a slight attraction to all of her friends, you included. Then, he ended up in a weird situationship with Tammy Mullins and then “cheated” on Tammy Mullins with his ex, Tammy Warner, if you can even cheat on a fuckbuddy. 

Kenny didn’t have the most savory reputation in South Park when it came to women. He was a flirt who made it known to everyone how much he liked the ladies and with his charm and rugged looks, he oftentimes was able to pull any girl that he fed the right line to. You felt like it was pointless to pursue him, because you’d inevitably get your heartbroken and look like an idiot much like Tammy Mullins when she attempted to beat the ever living shit out of Tammy Warner for the aforementioned incident. 

“Aren’t you going to answer it?” Marjorine spoke in a sing-song voice that let you know that she was highly anticipating overhearing this conversation.

You rolled your eyes, “Go ahead.”

Marjorine swiped the answer bar, “Well hi, Ken!”

“Hi, Barbie!” Kenny didn’t miss a beat, a chuckle to his voice, “Where’s Y/N?”

“I’m right here. What’s up, Kenny?” You spoke, distracting your nerves by finishing up Marjorine’s hair and making sure that the color was evenly spread with meticulous attention to detail.

“Just wanted to see if you ladies wanted to chill at Stark’s Pond later. The guys are all out of town doing fuck knows what and I have like...three days off of work and I’ve already bored myself to death.”

“You mean to tell me you’ve already gotten bored with jacking off and hitting up girls on Snap? Are you feeling okay, bud?” You said with a smirk, eliciting a gasp at your language from the blonde sitting underneath you.

“Ha ha…hilarious. I haven’t jacked it at all today. I’m waiting to see you in a bikini at the pond so I can have that mental image to cross that off my list.”

“Cute.”

“Gross, Ken!”

He chuckled again, “Are you guys coming or what?”

You looked at Marjorine and she looked at you. Before you could contemplate a response, she replied for you, “We’ll be there! Does 3:00 work?”

You shot her a look and she grinned mischievously. “Yeah, for sure. You make sure to look cute too, Marj. I’ve got a lot of free time coming up.” You could hear his smirk through the phone, earning him another eye roll.

“Oh shut it, Kenny. We’ll see you later.” 

“Okay! Love you guys, bye!”

“Love you too!” Marjorine replied, hanging up the phone and looking over her shoulder at you with a smile.

“I hate you.”

“Nuh uh.”

“I’m going to drown you when I rinse you.”

“Oh, hamburgers.”

A few hours later, you were in your room putting on high waisted black bikini bottoms with a black and white striped top as you were trying to call Marjorine to determine whether or not the suit was too modest or just right. You’d called several times, but she still wasn’t answering. You turned your attention to your hair, putting it in two braids, when you finally heard your ringtone.

“Hey, are you okay? I tried calling like a hundred times.” You spoke over speaker phone, starting on your other braid.

“Yeah, I suppose I’m alright…well, a little anyway.” She sounded sad. You’d be willing to bet the $500 sitting in your savings account that you knew where this conversation was going. 

“What happened?” 

“Well, you see, my dad was real sore about my hair. He said it made me look cheap and…”

“You’re grounded…”

“Yeah…”

You sighed, “Marj, we’re twenty. Your dad can’t ground you forever.” 

She sighed back, “I know…I keep hoping that maybe he’ll stop the older I get, but really, I’m getting older everyday and he’s not stopping!”

You groaned, flopping back on your bed, “So, I’m just going to go hang out with Kenny alone…”

“You say that like you haven’t wanted to date him since we were in high school.” Marjorine said, a smile clearly perking up on her face. You could tell by her tone.

“Yeah, but like..” You tried to start replying back.

“But nothing! Go and have a good time!” she said, “And use protection!”

“Marjorine!” You gasped, shaking your head at her response.

“I’m just saying.” She replied. Suddenly, there was a loud knock on the door.

“Marjorine, are you on your phone?!” Her father’s voice boomed.

“No, dad…I’m just…uh…talking to myself!” She replied back nervously. You could hear her father barking out orders at her to stay quiet and to think about what she’d done. Quickly, she wished you luck and ended the call.

You looked at your phone, noticing it was almost time for you to leave and decided that you would start gathering your things so that you could go. Once you arrived, you immediately noticed Kenny’s truck. It was an older model with rusted parts, chipped paint, and numerous crude and comedic stickers littering both the back glass and the door to the bed.

Part of you wanted him to not show up. Sure, you’d been harboring a crush on Kenny, but to think you’d be able to pull him? There was no way. He liked girls with big boobs, curves, full lips, and gorgeous skin. Compared to those girls, you just felt normal, like there was nothing special about you. You’d been told you were beautiful, funny, and smart, but going after Kenny still felt futile.

You parked next to his truck and then got out, walking towards the pond with your bag in hand. You soon noticed the blonde boy laying on a tattered quilt blanket. He was wearing only orange swim trunks and a pair of aviator sunglasses. His head turned toward you and he did a double take, tossing his hand up to greet you.

You walked over and sat your bag down next to the blanket. Kenny let out a soft wolf-whistle. “Baby, baby, baby…” He said, “I thought the view of the pond was beautiful, but you’ve got it beat.”

You rolled your eyes, sitting down on the blanket. “You’re full of it, Ken.” you said. He chuckled, shaking his head, “I’m just observing.”

“Uh huh…”

“Where’s Marj?” 

“Grounded”

“Shit…I mean, that sucks, but hey…” He turned on his side to look at you, “At least we get some time just you and me, right?”

Your chest tightened and you took a deep breath, “Mhmmm…”

“So…you seeing anyone?”

You rolled your eyes again. He was always so flirty with everyone. This was his baseline. You had to keep this at the front of your mind and just roll with his advances and play along with the game he was initiating. 

You shook your head, taking out your sunscreen. You twisted the nozzle so that it would spray and went over your arms, chest, and legs. Kenny held his hand out and you handed the bottle to him, expecting him to apply a coat to his already tanned skin. Instead, he sat up and slid behind you and sprayed your back.

“What are you…?” You lost your train of thought as he reached up and started gently rubbing it into your back.

Your breath hitched in your throat, “U-Uh…it’s…it’s touch free…”

“Oh?” He said. You could hear the smirk in his voice, “I didn’t read the bottle.” He leaned in closer to you until his breath was on your ear, “My bad…”

A shiver ran down your spine and he laughed under his breath again, moving back to the blanket. “So, why’d Clyde say he’d been talking to you if you’re single, then?”

“Because he’s full of shit.” 

It was a plain reply to the question because that was the honest truth. Clyde tended to be a bit of an attention seeker and this kind of behavior was a norm with him almost as much as being flirtatious was to Kenny. 

“Interesting…” Kenny laughed, “I think you should take that up with him.”

“It’s not that serious.” You laughed, laying back on the blanket, turning your head to look at him.

“I think you should tell him that you’re not talking to him because you’re talking to me.”

“Lie to end a lie?”

“Doesn’t have to be a lie.”

“You’re something else, you know that, right?”

The small talk and banter between the two of you went on for what felt like minutes, but upon looking at the clock on your lockscreen, you found out it’d been hours. The sun was starting to set and the two of you were the last people remaining at the pond.

“We should go get food.” You suggested, gesturing towards him with his sunglasses that you were holding, having taken them from him hours ago upon realizing that yours had been left in Marjorine’s car days ago.

“Or we could skinny dip and then get food.” He retorted, shrugging as if he didn’t ask you to get naked in public with him.

“You’re insane.”

“Some people would find that hot, you know?”

“Pretty sure skinny dipping is illegal.”

“No guts, no glory…plus, our police force is a joke. I think we’ll be fine.”

“You think.”

Kenny got up from the blanket and started down to the water. He turned towards you and smirked. “I know…” He then jumped into the water, making a large splash that landed on the blanket and your legs.

He re-emerged only seconds later and held his swim trunks over his head. “Kenny!” You gasped.

“Yes?” His smile was absolutely devious. You got up and walked to the edge of the water only for him to pull his hand back and send his swim trunks launching towards you, only landing on your feet due to the weight of the water in the fabric.

You couldn’t think of anything else to say so you just crossed your arms over your chest and watched the blonde who was currently smiling so widely you could finally see the small gap in his smile from his missing tooth. You had to admit…the colors and lighting of the sunset mixed with the beads of water rolling down his shoulders and his wet hair…If Kenny was anything, it was beautiful.

“Take a picture sweetheart, it’ll last longer.” You’d gotten caught. You took a hard swallow, choosing not to respond to his comment. “Man, this water is getting cold…it’d be nice if someone else would join me so I could suck up their body heat.”

He couldn’t be that desperate. You sighed, “Okay…okay…”

You jumped in, resurfacing right in front of him moments later. He grinned playfully. “Lucky me.” He closed the gap between you two, wrapping his arms around your waist and bringing your body in close to him.

“You are ridiculous.” You tried to sound stern, but you couldn’t help but form a smile at his reaction to your presence. He seemed genuinely happy to have you in the water with him with your bodies so close together…but of course he does. It’s Kenny. Something like this is his idea of paradise. You were brought back to your thoughts earlier about Kenny’s baseline and his affinity for the ladies.

“You still with me?” he asked, noticing how your thoughts had drifted from your current position to the depths of your mind. You turned your attention back to him, “Yeah, I was just…thinking…”

“Bout what?” he asked, reaching up to play with the end of your hair delicately, 

“You”

“Me? Huh, it really is my lucky day, isn’t it?”

“Who says it’s good?”

“Well, damn, the thought didn’t cross my mind, but I guess you’re right.” He chuckled.

He leaned in, his lips curved up in a smirk as he leaned in in an attempt to kiss you. You reached up with two fingers and pressed them to his lips to stop him. He pulled back and laughed, shaking his head.

“You’re naked in a pond with me right now…I don’t think that should be our first kiss.”

“So, you’re telling me that if I put my clothes back on, you’d kiss me?” 

“We’ll see…”

“I never thought I’d want to get my clothes back on with you instead of staying naked.” he said.

A few minutes later, Kenny was redressed and you’d dried off and put the t-shirt he’d come to the pond in over your suit. It was now fully dark, the only light coming from his headlights after he’d turned the car on. 

“So…where do you wanna go for food?” he asked, leaning against the car. You shrugged and stood beside him, leaning your back against the vehicle as well. “I”m up for anything, really. I’m not picky. Anything beats frozen waffles for the fourth time this week.”

“McDonald’s?” You questioned, earning a nod in response from the blonde.

“Before we go, though…you said that if we weren’t naked and in the pond you’d kiss me.”

You let out a deep breath from your nose and looked at him, not responding, but raising both eyebrows questioning him ever so slightly.

“So…can we?” He grinned.

“Why do you want to kiss me anyway? You can have your pick of any girl in South Park…or have you just blown through all of your options over the years and I’m the last girl on the list?” You questioned, “It’s not like you’ve actively tried pursuing me before. Why now?”

Kenny looked taken aback by your question, “I…” He paused, as if trying to gather his thoughts. You must’ve honestly thrown him a curveball he was never expecting. “I don’t know…guess I thought you’d never go for me. You’re kind of too good for me. At least, that’s what Marj says.”

“Marj? What’d she say?”

“Oh, I told her I wanted to ask you out like…Christmastime-ish…and she was like ‘Nah, she’s too smart and too good for you. She won’t put up with your shit.’ and one night, after smoking a blunt, I thought some more about it and realized that she’s probably right and that you’re not going to put up with my shit and that even though you’re totally one of the most gorgeous girls I’ve ever seen I…”

You cut him off by leaning in to kiss his lips. He smiled against your lips and instantly kissed back, moving over you to lean you even further back against the hood of his truck, resting both arms on each side of your head until one hand slid down and came to rest on your hip, hooking his finger into your belt loop to pull you in closer. You kept kissing him, letting your hands slide down his bare chest, a shiver running down your spine at the small moan that left his lips as your hands moved. Finally, you had to pull back to catch your breath.

You took a second, just looking at him, your E/C eyes staring into his baby blues. Then, you spoke up, “I'm still not putting up with your shit, though.” You both laughed in response and he shrugged his shoulders.

“Makes sense.” He said, leaning in to kiss you again. The kiss once again turned heated, you locking a leg around his waist and his hands traveling past the hem of his shirt that you were wearing to caress the slightly exposed skin of your abdomen and then move to your back, reaching up to play with the tie on your bathing suit. You stopped him, putting a hand up to his arm to get his attention.

“Shit…” He shook his head, “I”m sorry, I–”

“Don’t apologize.” You began, “I just think it’d be a little more private in the truck.”

That’s how you found yourself on your back in the cramped single cab of Kenny’s truck for the first time that summer. His lips were traveling down your body and your chest was rising and falling at a rapidly increasing pace the further he maneuvered himself downward. You glanced down at him and met his eyes as he looked up at you, his fingers hooked themselves in the sides of your swimsuit bottoms. He shifted his position a little as he was still partially standing outside of the truck. 

You could barely make out his features in the dim overhead light of the truck, but you could notice how his eyes were a deeper shade of blue than earlier. His face was flushed, his shaggy mullet was even messier from the presence of your hands, and he was wearing a shit-eating grin that looked absolutely devious, but you could’ve sworn you’d never seen anything more attractive and enticing in your life.

“G-Go ahead…”

From that point forward, any nights off you both shared were spent in either his bed, the backseat of your car, or the bed of his truck. You remembered recalling the first two weeks to Marjorine after finally deciding that things were stable enough to share with at least your best friend.

You didn’t notice that she was about to take a sip of her can of soda when you casually stated “Kenny and I are like…seeing each other…well, if fucking counts as seeing each other.” Marjorine promptly started coughing, the bright green can of Mountain Dew coming back to the carpet of her floor as she tried to regain her composure. 

“Excuse me, what?”

Despite the harsh way that you would describe your encounters with the blonde, the affairs themselves were anything but. Kenny was nothing but a gentleman to you, always asking if you were alright, taking care of you afterwards, and only getting rougher with your permission. Even then, he’d talk you through it, ensuring you felt safe and comfortable no matter what. It didn’t take too long into your “relationship” for the crush you’d been harboring for years to evolve into full feelings.

Your kisses became more passionate and more frequent. Your touches became more forward and increased in frequency as well. As far as you could tell, Kenny was eating it up and taking it all in and there was no doubt in your mind that he absolutely felt the same. After consulting with Marjorine one night, you decided to finally ask Kenny the burning question.

“What are we?”

You didn’t expect the question to hang in the air the way that it did. You were sitting up in your bed, knees pulled into your chest wearing only his t-shirt and a pair of panties. Kenny was redressing himself after Cartman disrupted the nap you two had been taking by blowing up his phone, asking him to help him with some ridiculous scheme since Marjorine wasn’t answering her phone.

He turned back to you looking like a deer in the headlights. “What do you mean?” he asked as if the question wasn’t clear cut as is. You let out a mild sigh of frustration. Kenny wasn’t stupid by any means. Despite the rumors, you’d see his grades when he’d log on and check them and he was able to hack into just about any video game to make mods to fit any desire he may have during gameplay. 

“Are we like…together, or?”

“Like…dating?” He was buttoning up the tacky orange Hawaiian shirt he’d been wearing, completely missing a button, obviously jarred by this conversation.

“I mean, yeah.” It came out like a question when it was definitely a statement. 

He leaned against your dresser, sliding on his slip on Vans, “I mean…I don’t know.” He shrugged, “We do like…everything couples do…but I hadn’t put much thought into it.”

“You haven’t put much thought into it?” You repeated, dumbfounded at this response. He’d started saying something else, but it sounded like white noise to your ears and you quickly cut him off, “You’ve had a month and a half of spending many nights a week balls deep in me and you haven’t taken a single second to think ‘Hey, would I actually like to date this person or am I just wasting both of our time and fucking them until something better comes along?’”

Kenny really looked shocked now. Somewhere in your rant, he’d started re-buttoning his shirt, but he stopped midway when you started talking and was now looking at you with both sides of the shirt in his hand and his eyes blown wide in shock. He finally let go of the shirt to run his hands over his face.

“Y/N…”

“Kenny, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me…”

“What…like…I just…I don’t know and Marj has been asking me the same thing and like…I haven’t even told anyone, if I'm honest.”

“Kenny what the fuck!?” Your voice was getting louder, “Why am I some secret of yours? Is it so you can go around and fuck other girls like you’d been doing? I told you, I”m not putting up with your bullshit.”

“Oh my god…” He groaned, throwing his head back, “Listen, it’s not like that. I just…I don’t know. That’s it. I don’t know.”

Tears were welling up in your eyes, “Just get out, Kenny.”

“But…”

“Go.”

He shrugged and let out a sigh, “Okay…fine. See you around.”

As soon as you could hear the tell-tale aged, loud roar of his truck’s engine, you dissolved into tears. You pulled his shirt over your head and threw it at the wall, burying yourself under your covers as your tears turned into full sobs. How could you have been so stupid? Everything you’d ever heard about him was true and Marjorine was right. You deserved better than him.

Weeks had passed since your breakup, if you could even call it that, with Kenny. You hadn’t spoken to him since and made sure to avoid him at all costs. You were not about to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much he’d hurt you.

 It was now nearing the middle of August and the now-annual college send-off party at Tegridy Farms was rolling around signaling the end of summer and the parting of ways of all of your childhood friends that happened at this time of year.

“I still don’t want to go.” You said plainly, looking at your reflection in the mirror that hung from your bedroom door.

“It’s a tradition, Y/N and we always have fun! Remember last year when Mr. Marsh got on the karaoke machine and started singing Nicki Minaj and blacked out and broke the coffee table right before the best part of the song?” Marjorine stated, touching up her black eyeliner.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. It’s a good spot to people watch. Maybe Clyde will get shitfaced again and end up screaming and crying for Bebe to take him back and then throw up in the yard, still crying.” You chuckled.

“See, that just makes me sad. He loves her so much and she just uses that boy whenever she wants something because he’s got money.” Marjorine glanced over at you, “Clyde’s got man written by a woman energy.”

You chuckled, “Marj, just because he’s kinda got a dad bod at 20, is sensitive, and is a male Swiftie doesn’t mean that he’s written by a woman. He killed his mom because he wouldn’t put the toilet seat down. That’s giving Mojo Dojo Casa House.”

“Ken was written by a woman, though!”

Not realizing she was following up your reference, you scoffed, “Oh, he most definitely is not. He’s written by some middle aged man that thinks shock value and sex jokes are still funny at their big-old-age.” 

“No, he’s not! Ken is just a himbo! He…” She paused and then realized what you’d said, “Oh…oh hamburgers…not the same Ken. I’m sorry.”

You realize what you’d said too, “My bad. I just…whew…I had a whole response to that. I’m so sorry, Marj.”

“It’s fine…and I agree. All of the broship were written by men of different ages…except Kyle…”

You stopped applying mascara to think about what she’d said and then nodded, “Sheila Brovlofski is the greatest author of our generation.”

The music was already blaring from inside when you pulled up to Tegridgy farms. Once you got out of your car, you could already smell the weed pouring outside. Typical party at Tegridgy. You reached into the pocket of your denim jacket and pulled out your vape, taking a few hits to calm your nerves. You knew, without a doubt, that you’d be running into Kenny tonight, and you weren’t sure how to handle it.

As you both approached the door, you knew you had to make up your mind sooner rather than later as to how you were going to handle this. In true fight, flight, or freeze nature, you could either avoid him at all costs, turn away and ignore him if he approaches you, or just freeze up and end up talking to him like nothing was wrong…and at this point, there was no telling as to what you’d choose.

You walked inside with your hands in your pockets, looking around to scope out the general area. There was a makeshift dance floor where multiple of your peers were either dancing or standing around, two tables of beer pong, and then the kitchen where the counters were littered with various alcohol bottles and almost artistic looking bongs.

You headed over to the counter and took a hold of the ingredients to make one of the only drinks you could confidently make for yourself: a tequila sunrise. You made yourself a double and Marjorine a single and handed it to her. “Aw, shucks, I really shouldn’t…you know how much of a light weight I am.” she said, staring into the cup, “Last time was bad…”

You chuckled, “It wasn’t that bad. You just called Eric sexy in front of a bunch of people which isn’t necessarily like…morally wrong or bad…just questionable and objectively incorrect.” You took a large sip of your drink, trying to get the alcohol to kick in as quickly as possible in case of an inevitable emergency and to drown the still lingering sorrows from that day in your bedroom.

Within the first hour of being there, you’d drank the double tequila sunrise you’d made for yourself, taken an old fashioned that Tolkien was preparing for multiple people, and had been consistently refilling your red cup with the jungle juice someone (Kenny) had prepared and put into several empty milk cartons of all things. Now, you were currently positioned at a bright green and black bong, taking a hit before passing it to one of the goth kids. Michael? Pete? Did it really matter? No, as long as it wasn’t Kenny.

You got up, fully preparing to just stride out of the kitchen and go find Marjorine but found out oh too quickly that you were too inebriated to stand up that quickly. You stumbled, vision a little blurry and your entire body feeling fuzzy.

“You okay?” The goth kid got up and leaned against his cane, extending his hand to you.

“Yeah, I’m good. I’m so good. I’m great, actually.” You blew him off, grabbing your cup and taking another sip as you stumbled off towards the living room where the couches and dance floor were. You flopped down on the couch next to a boy you were actually quite familiar with. His shaggy, dark hair was peeking out of his blue and yellow chullo and he was cutting his eyes over at you almost cautiously, as if he were afraid of you doing something.

“Hey Craig!” You slurred, leaning over onto him.

“Hey, Y/N.” His voice was as monotone as ever and he kept looking around and then over at you.

“Where’s Tweek?” You asked, reaching up to play with the side of his chullo as you put your legs into his lap. The brunette took a deep breath to gain his composure, “He got a little anxious so he’s outside smoking with Bebe. Do you need something?”

“Nuh uh…I'm so good!” You said, inching closer to him.

“Uh huh…sure you are.” His eyes stayed forward despite your close proximity to his face.

“You’re so hot, you know that right?” You said.

He fully turned to you, face burning red, riddled with shock. He was about to respond, when all of a sudden a flash of an orange hoodie dropped down on the arm of the couch next to him.

“Craig Tucker, what’s up, dude?”

“Ugh, not this guy.” Your tone shifted and your lack of filter continued.

“I know…you’re mad at me, sweetheart…but I promise, you’re going to be madder at yourself in the morning.” he laughed and then looked at Craig, “Swap with me.”

Craig muttered something. You only caught, “Good luck” as he got up and reached into his pocket, taking out a box of cigarettes as he headed towards the back porch.

“Get away from me.”

“I'm not trying anything. I’m just trying to keep you safe, because you’re kinda getting messy. I’ve been there, done that…and I just don’t want you to end up trying to fuck Cartman too.”

“I wasn’t trying to fuck, Craig! You’re such a fucking idiot!”

“Babe, relax. I was talking about Marj…New Years Eve.” He leaned his head back on the back of the couch, looking over at you. You could tell that despite his ability to hold a consistent conversation, his eyes were bloodshot. He’d most likely been smoking.

“You okay?” he asked, his tone turning more serious and soft.

“I”m fine.” You took your phone out of your pocket and attempted to unlock it, or so you thought, until Kenny reached over and snatched the phone away, pressing some buttons before sliding it in his pocket.

“Hey, give that back!”

“Babygirl, you were about to summon the pigs. Randy would’ve shit his pants.” he chuckled, “Pretty sure that’s a dead giveaway that you’re not okay.”

“This is a weed farm, not like an actual farm. There’s no pigs.”

Kenny laughed rather loudly, “You are absolutely right, baby. That it is. Thanks to me.”

“Stop calling me that.” You said, crossing your arms over your chest, “And give me my fucking phone back!”

He shook his head, “Can’t do that…either of those things, actually.”

“Fine.” You stood up and walked off. It must’ve taken Kenny a moment to process, because you got a little bit of a head start before he caught up with you in a hallway, where you stumbled slightly and then ended up leaning against the wall. 

You were dizzy and your body felt both light and heavy all at once. You wrapped your arms around yourself, craving some kind of pressure. You started to slide down the wall when you felt someone’s hand on your arm, following you down until you were both on the floor with whoever it was’ arms wrapped around you giving you the physical touch you’d been desiring.

“I’ve got you. You’re fine.”

You groaned. Of course, it was Kenny. You wanted to pull away, but instead you flopped over onto him, laying your head on his shoulder. He gently trailed his fingers down your bare arm, your jacket long since missing in the chaos of the party. 

“You just sleepy or do you feel like you’re going to be sick or something?” he asked softly. You shook your head, “No. Where’s my fucking vape?”

Kenny chuckled lowly, “I don’t know, babe. Did you bring it in with you?”

You nodded, wrapping an arm around his middle, “My jacket.”

“You’re not wearing a jacket.”

“I am.”

“You definitely aren’t. You’re wearing a sparkly pink dress.” He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your exposed shoulder, “See, no jacket.”

You let out a whimper of disgust before Kenny reached into his pocket and handed you a hunter green colored vape pen, “It’s not your peach mango whatever the fuck that shit you smoke is, but…”

“Ugh, it’s menthol. Just give it to me.”

“How’d you remember that?” 

You shrugged and took a long hit, holding it for a moment before exhaling. You handed the pen back to him and watched as several people walked by, barely missing stepping on you or tripping over your feet. Kenny took notice of this and started to stand, helping you up along the way.

“No, I wanna sit.” You slurred, shaking your head.

“Why don’t we go home…” He said, “My parents are out for the night doing fuck knows what and Karen’s at her friend’s. It’ll just be us and you can get some sleep.”

When you were back on your feet, you shook your head, “No…I'm not sleeping with you. Not again, not after all that shit.” 

“No, no, no…not like that. I wouldn’t do that. I meant like…actually sleep.” He corrected himself, putting an arm around your waist as he started subtly leading you towards the door.

“Stop…why are you holding me? You don’t even like me!” You were starting to get louder as you spoke and Kenny looked at you with concern. He tightened his grip on you as you walked down the steps and headed towards his truck, hoping you wouldn’t fall.

“I do like you! I wouldn’t be helping you if I didn’t.”

“No, like…like me, like me…you dont like me.”

“Y/N…”

“Just shut up, Kenny.” You opened his truck door and flopped yourself in, slamming the door haphazardly behind you. Kenny pinched the bridge of his nose before walking to the other side of the truck, getting in and starting the engine. He leaned over and buckled you in and then took off his hoodie, leaving him in a white wife beater. He folded it up and then nudged you gently.

“Sit up.”

You moved a little away from your position of leaning up against the window long enough for him to slide the hoodie under your head. However, as soon as he positioned it, you sat up and pulled it down. You unbuckled your seatbelt and threw the hoodie onto your body. 

You heard Kenny mutter some curse words as he stopped backing out of the spot he was parked in to reach over and buckle you back into the seat with a sigh. You were about halfway to Kenny’s house when you felt your chest tighten. At first, you thought you were going to throw up. You were about to reach over and get Kenny’s attention so that he could pull over when you realized what was truly building inside of you and you broke down in tears.

Your head went into your hands as you sobbed. “What the…” Kenny spoke under his breath, turning his attention from the road to you briefly, reaching over to put his hand on your back, rubbing small circles.

“Hey…no…shhh…what’s got you so upset, babygirl?” he asked.

“Stop it!” You sobbed, reaching behind you to swat his hand away, “Stop saying that. Stop touching me. You don’t love me, so stop it!”

Kenny was silent momentarily, “What’s gotten into you? Like, I know we haven’t seen each other since that day in your room…and that’s my fault. I should’ve like…reached out or something, but I thought you hated me and…I promise. I fucking promise…I didn’t mean for it to come out the way that it did.”

“How else could it come out?” You cried, “You basically admitted that you didn’t want to be in a relationship with me and only wanted to fuck me even though I wanted to be with you and then you told me that you hadn’t told anyone about us probably because you wanted to fuck every girl you could this summer before they all packed it up and went back to college. That’s fucking ridiculous, Kenny. I thought the whole ‘McWhoremick” thing was like…a joke or like…the way your friends shit on you, but Jesus Christ.”

“I hadn’t told anyone because I didn’t know what we were and like…I knew that I liked you, but I didn’t know what else to do about it because Marj had told me so many times that you could do better and like…especially after that fight in your room…I knew you could do better so I just…tried to let you find that better? I don’t know. I really don’t know.”

“You never know! That’s the problem! How do you not know? You either love me or you don’t!”

“I just…”

You scoffed, “I love you! I love you. Is that the worst thing you’ve ever heard?”

He was silent for ages, only saying something about how you were drunk a mere seconds after your confession. You didn’t know at what point you’d pulled into Kenny’s driveway, but as soon as you registered where you were, you got out of the car and tried to storm towards the door, but stumbled, falling to your knees on the pavement. The sting of the scrape only added to your tears. You reached up and wiped your eyes, your crying becoming quieter as you were lifted to your feet by the boy who pulled you into his arms, running his fingers through your hair, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“It’s okay. You’re okay. Let's get you inside. We’ll clean your knees up…and wash your makeup off…and get you some water…and you can lay down.”

And that’s exactly what he did for you. You walked in and almost immediately collapsed onto his bed. He took this opportunity to clean your scraped knees and then got you up into a sitting position and helped you change into his hoodie and a spare pair of his boxers. You were half-asleep by the time that he took a makeup wipe to your face and started wiping the messy makeup off of your features. 

Lastly, Kenny got you situated in his bed, pulling the covers up and kissing your forehead. “I’m right here on the floor if you need anything. Popcorn bowl is on the floor. Water bottle is right next to it. Please, wake me up if you need me. I’ll be fine.”

You nodded in agreement, but then spoke up, “Can you stay with me?”

“Huh?” he asked, looking up at you from where he was sitting on the floor.

“Please sleep with me…” You said, reaching out towards him.

He chuckled, “You sure?”

You nodded again and scooted over to make room for him. He slid into the bedsheets and carefully positioned himself next to you, allowing you to move over and lay with your head on his chest. He wrapped his arms around you and closed his eyes, drifting off to sleep.

The next few hours were littered with infrequent bouts of sleep mixed with burying your face into the popcorn bowl as your stomach purged itself of the alcohol that remained in your system, running to the bathroom on the few chances you felt you could make it, crying, and drinking water. The entire time, Kenny held you, held your hair back, and wiped your face with a cool washcloth. 

By the time you woke up the next day around 1PM, you were still exhausted, not feeling well, and fairly lost in regards to the events of last night. You just knew that you woke up with Kenny wrapped around you and you were in his hoodie and boxers and you prayed to whatever higher power may be out there that you hadn’t fucked him again.

You sat up and ran a hand through your hair, looking around until your eyes fell on your charging phone laying on the ground. You picked it up and saw two texts from Marjorine on top.

She’ll be okay.

Hehehe I knew it ;)

“What?” you whispered, unlocking your phone. You went straight to Marjorine’s text thread. Under your last response to her, a “kk!” from when she arrived at your house before the party, there was a longish thread of messages that clearly went between her and Kenny.

Where are you? I’ve been looking for you for an hour! Are you okay?

Hey, Marj. Thanks for giving me her passcode. My phone died right after I called you and I put her phone on the charger in my room. I can charge mine when she wakes up.

Is she okay? Omg.

Yeah, just going back between screaming, crying, and throwing up…literally. At least she started that once we’d already left or it would’ve been real bad. 

Bless her heart! What’d you say to get her so upset?

It wasn’t me! Damn. She just got upset…about us…and then screamed at me that she loved me.

And you said?

Nothing. She was drunk. 

Drunk words are sober thoughts. ;)

So, you think Cartman is sexy, huh?

Oh my goddddd stop. That isn’t true and this isn’t about me. What do you think of her?

I…might’ve realized I fucked up literally the night we had that fight…and I haven’t known what to do about it…so…I just…loved her in secret and accepted that she deserved better. I’m just worried she’s going to wake up and like…regret saying all of this and like trying to have this conversation with me again.

She’ll be okay.

Hehehe I knew it ;)

Your chest felt full and tight all at the same time and your eyes soon fell upon the sleeping blonde, who was still wrapped around you despite you sitting upright at this point. You reached down and ran your fingers through his hair gently. A few passes through his blonde locks and he stirred, looking up at you.

“Morning, beautiful.” he spoke groggily, “You okay?”

You nodded, “Just tired…”

“Mm…come lay back down then. Let's go back to bed.”

It was your turn to smirk over at him, “You love me, huh?”

“What?”

You pulled up the texts again, showing him and then reading his own words to him verbatim, “So…I just…loved her in secret and accepted that she deserved better.”

“Hey, that’s a private conversation!” he laughed.

“On my phone…” You retorted.

“Yeah!”

“So, do you love me?” You moved back down to laying next to him, turned on your side, propped up on your elbow. He blushed, lips curving back up into his famous devious grin.

“Ain’t that the worst thing you’ve ever heard?”

“I think I've heard worse.”

With a giggle and a kiss to his lips, your relationship with Kenny transitioned just as the seasons outside had started to move from the bright colors of an otherwise dark summer for you to the warm, comforts of fall…all starting and ending in that beat-up pickup. 

Devils roll the dice, angels roll their eyes

What doesn't kill me makes me want you more

[goodomensafterdark]

Writers Guild Cock Fight - Give ourselves one more chance

Summary:

Written by Niknak90 for the GOAD smut war - find them on Reddit and AO3!

TL;DR for chapter 1: they have sex for the first time in the Bentley after the wall slam, but Crowley miracles them "back to business" after, making Aziraphale (and the readers, and the author) very sad.

Chapter 2: The world doesn't end. Crowley invites Aziraphale back to his place, unsure where they stand now. They end up standing (and kneeling) in his shower. Eventually, they get their happy ending (in multiple senses of the word).

Word count: 5070 words for chapter 2

Trigger/Content Warnings: The Night At Crowley's Flat, Shower Sex, Blowjobs, Edging/Orgasm Delay, Crowley POV, Mentions of past Crowley/Humans, Anal Sex, Angst and Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, Top Crowley/Bottom Aziraphale

Excerpt:

“There is no way I’m giving you my body in this state, angel.” Crowley said, realizing how suggestive that sounded only after he said it. “You might have a shiny new corporation from the Antichrist’s little miracle, but mine has seen better days. I need a good hot shower to get this soot off me.” He could miracle himself clean, but like sleep, he enjoyed indulging in showers and the occasional bath.

“Not a bad idea. Perhaps I could join you?” Aziraphale smiled, wiggled a bit, and placed his hand on Crowley’s thigh.

“That’s not too fast?” Crowley asked. He had to be sure that Aziraphale wanted this, that he wouldn’t get spooked and dump him again the next day.

“You did say if stopping Armageddon worked out, we might be able to do it again.” Aziraphale rubbed Crowley’s thigh and looked at him with half-lidded eyes. “And I would like that very much.”

“And you won’t…you won’t say ‘it’s over’ again tomorrow?” Crowley asked quietly. He tried to keep his breath steady as the angel’s touch seemed to burn through his trousers, but was failing miserably. He put his hand over Aziraphale’s.

Aziraphale shook his head. “I said I was sorry, my dear. I got scared, wanted to keep us safe.” He reached for Crowley’s glasses and removed them, then placed a hand on his cheek. “But if this works, if we survive this…I see no reason to stay apart.” He kissed Crowley briefly, too briefly (then again, would any kiss ever feel long enough?). “And I would very much like to continue exploring our physical relationship. If you’re amenable, that is.”

“Oh, I’m very amenable, angel,” he rasped, then kissed him again. He was quickly becoming addicted to this. Kissing in his previous encounters, when it occurred at all, was at most a perfunctory precursor to the act. Kissing Aziraphale felt like finding an oasis in the desert, and if he drowned in it after centuries of thirst, it would be worth it. Even if Aziraphale changed his mind and “only” wanted to kiss from now on, Crowley would be a very happy demon. Possibly the happiest demon, seeing as demons weren’t generally supposed to experience happiness.

Unfortunately, he needed his mouth unoccupied to finish his thought, so he broke the kiss. “Might need a minute though. In the shower. Before you join me. Get properly clean, burn my skin off.” He liked his showers hellishly hot, which he suspected the angel would find more punishing than soothing. “Then I’ll cool it back down and call you in. Sound good?”

Aziraphale agreed, and Crowley miracled away his dirty clothes, leaving himself in just a towel around his waist. He could feel the angel’s eyes on him as he walked away, like he was the ox in Job’s basement.

Read more on AO3!

Thank you to the betas! u/lemon-tart-221, u/Intelligent-Dragon, u/SouthernFriedAmy, u/kunigun

[cauldronblssd]

Ch 17 - Found in the Sunlight

Something about Autumn Court males...it's time for the frenzy.

Read on AO3

Big thank you to @climbthemountain2020 for being my beta this chapter and also being the nicest person. I will also be adding a taglist in the future, let me know if you would like to be added.

Excerpt:

She was stalling, and she knew it. The guests seemed to be tiring and soon Elain would need to take action. Not to mention she’d spent rather a long time on the cake she’d prepared, and she feared for the integrity of the cream icing if she didn’t serve it soon. Elain looked towards Nesta who rolled her eyes and looked pointedly at the table. Perhaps sensing the dilemma, Tarquin and Cresseida politely turned away, offering another congratulations. Curse them and their manners. Feyre had reiterated to Elain how nice Tarquin would be. She should have been talking to Eris instead, he would have kept them talking for another hour just to irk Lucien.   

Seemingly sensing her nerves, Lucien squeezed her hand reassuringly. “Shall we?”   

Elain couldn’t speak the words, afraid they might come out No. This had been her idea, she reminded herself. She offered him a nod and what she hoped resembled a smile. It must not have been successful because his mouth turned down at the corners in response. She couldn’t hesitate or Lucien would question her decision again, would offer her a polite out that would only wound both of their feelings.

Instead, she led him towards the head table, laden with flowers and garlands of greenery. Atop it sat a smaller version of the large cake that guests had already begun to eat. Unlike the guests’ cake which had been a joint effort between herself and the twins, this one had been baked entirely by her own hand. She’d painstakingly edged the icing with small flowers and decorated with lemon slices. She’d initially planned a more intricate design but found her hand trembled with nerves the moment she began to pipe the icing onto the cake. It was better than scraps.   

Lucien pulled out a seat for her before settling himself in his own, their chairs turned to face each other. Her sisters had decorated the chairs with ribbons and obnoxious signs on the back that declared “Just Mated”.  Around them, guests had begun to gather to take in the spectacle. Lucien sat tense in his chair, his back rigid and his hands placed on his knees. His golden eye hovered over her, whirring softly as it took her in. He looked nervous, and it softened Elain in turn. She leaned towards him, and his delicious woodsy smell invaded her senses, combined with the subtle undertones of his arousal. She allowed her cheek to brush his own as she leaned into whisper in his ear. His hands flexed but did not move. “You want this?” she asked, one final time. 

She needed him to know, though she’d pushed this decision, she would never force him to accept the bond. She turned to look at him, making eye contact, trying to convey the sincerity of the question. He looked her in the eyes, nodding. His throat bobbed as he swallowed anxiously. She dipped her chin in return, before reaching for a knife to slice into the cake. The icing, blessedly, had stayed intact. She cut off a generous slice, laying it on the delicate floral plate she’d saved especially for the occasion. She gripped it with both hands, hoping they kept steady enough the guests wouldn’t be able to see her own nerves. “For you, my mate.” 

The words sounded final, ringing out between them. The golden cord around her ribs vibrated in response. With trepidation , Lucien reached out his hand to take it from her. Elain remembered what he’d told her when she’d asked him his favorite cake, and made a quick decision to shake her head no. Instead, she reached to place her hand against the corner of his jaw. He seemed confused briefly, looking at her doubtfully before he opened his mouth. Elain grabbed a generous chunk of the cake between her fingers, feeding it to him carefully. At last, Lucien’s rakish side took over. He smirked before closing his mouth around her fingers, running his wet tongue over them obscenely before sucking gently. The feel of his warm mouth on her skin spiked her own arousal.    

Whether it was the bond driving her, or just seeing Lucien unraveled at last, she didn’t know. Elain surged forward, pulling her fingers slowly out from between his lips, before running her tongue over the icing on the corner of his mouth. Lucien groaned, reaching for her waist, as she moved her face to kiss him properly. She couldn’t believe she hadn’t kissed him until now. His mouth fit perfectly against her own, his lips plush and soft. Elain gasped as she felt his emotions flooding the bond, joy and gratitude and need.  Lucien took advantage of her open mouth to slide his tongue inside as he threaded his hand through the hair at the nape of her neck. Elain met his tongue with her own. He kissed the way he did all things, clever and a bit devious, pulling his tongue against her lips before pushing against her more fully. He tasted like lemon and something else addictive and entirely Lucien.   

All she could think about was more, touching him, tasting him. Their kiss quickly moved from explorative to desperate, and Elain let out a small keening sound before she remembered they were in a room full of people. A blush rose up her cheeks and she pulled herself away from Lucien slowly, licking her lips as she savored the taste of him. Lucien looked equally overcome, his lips swollen and his pupils blown wide. Not touching him felt impossible. He seemed to feel the same, his hand never leaving the back of her neck.  

“You ready to get out of here?” He whispered to her. His breath blew hot against her cheeks. Elain nodded, biting her lip. In truth, she felt ready to combust. She worried if they did not leave soon that she might do something truly improper. Even knowing half of Prythian was watching them, that they were applauding (and some rather uncouth whooping she was sure came from Cassian) only a few feet away, did little to tamp down her arousal. She stood, and Lucien pulled her into his arms. The moment felt bittersweet as she took in one last look at the River House and all their guests. At last, she joined her other hand in his and he winnowed them away with the scent of cinnamon in the air.     

[tommykinard6]

could you explain briefly how the omegaverse work and why is eddie one? thank you :)

Gladly! I shall break it down as much as possible.

Omegaverse is a take on wolf pack dynamics. This can be literal, with wolf characters or werewolves. It can also be when the characters are fully human or have very distant wolf ancestry.

There’s Alpha, Beta, Omega, and sometimes non presenters, though not all authors write with non presenters. These are called secondary genders. Primary genders, such as male or female, have no impact on secondary genders in most verses. Non presenters never take a secondary gender or present much later in life. Presentation usually happens in the teen years or the person is born already presented. Presented is another term for secondary puberty, when the secondary gender matures and becomes obvious.

Now I shall keep this post SFW, but I can do an explanation on NSFW too if it’s wanted! Just let me know!

The alpha is generally the protective leader, the dominant one, sometimes literally the pack leader. In most fics, they are the partner with most societal pull and authority.

Betas are the neutrals. They make great peacekeepers, healers, advisors. Alphas and omegas are generally affected more by scents and emotions than betas.

Omegas are the caretakers and the heart of the “pack”. They’re the quiet engine that make the world go round.

Now, traditionally, alphas seem to take more stereotypical male roles and omegas take more stereotypically female roles, regardless of primary gender. That isn’t always true! But is a common theme.

Let me explain scents real quick. Basically every presented alpha/omega has a distinctive scent. Betas might too, but that varies. Betas also might not be able to smell scents as well as alphas and omegas. These scents can be vague, like smoky, or detailed, like apple pie with a hint of lemon.

((Warning for mention of mpreg: I’ll mark when it ends))

Each dynamic can be any primary gender. It’s up to the author how they want that gender to cross over. Are female alphas able to get omegas pregnant? Can female alphas get pregnant? Can male omegas get pregnant or get someone else pregnant?

((Ends here))

Betas tend to follow the biological rules of primary genders.

((Brief mention of dub-con/non-con as a theme. No graphic description within))

Now, it’s worth knowing before anyone non-experienced in A/B/O goes looking that sometimes, dub-con and non-con are themes in fics. That’s because alphas experience ruts and omegas experience heats and in a rut or a heat, the person can’t consent unless they already established consent beforehand. They’re not technically in their right mind.

((Finishes here))

That’s part of why omegaverse gets a bad rap.

I pride myself in writing fully consensual and enthusiastic A/B/O content, at least between the main ship. It’s absolutely possible to do. Tagging is important! Be sure to utilize filters if you want to avoid stuff when you go looking.

Now, for why I see Eddie as an omega.

It started partially because I don’t see Buck as an omega and I was and still am a Buddie shipper. I definitely saw him as an alpha figure. It’s also partially because of the top/bottom dynamic. Stereotypically, alphas are tops and omegas are bottoms. THIS IS NOT ALWAYS TRUE. You can write it however you want! That’s how I prefer to write, though.

I see Buck as a top/dom and Eddie as a bottom/sub. That man just needs to let go and get out of his head. He needs to be taken care of and pampered. Buck loves to take care of people and spoil them. Besides, I’m a bit of a slut for a size difference.

I don’t do well in explaining how or why a character is a bottom/omega to me; it’s sort of just a feeling. But hopefully, that explains it well enough!

Quick note to add that any dynamic can have any relationship. Alpha/alpha, alpha/beta, beta/beta, beta/omega, omega/omega are all alternatives to the classic alpha/omega pairing.

I did the best I could, but please let me know if you have further questions!

Edit to add: he’s canonically a nester and while that means something different in A/B/O…VINDICATION

[toadstoolwriting]

Star Crossed- Chapter Three

Warnings: More google translated Russian, angst (?), german asshole and cursing

Word Count: 2k

Series Masterlist

Chapter Two

______________________________________________________________

The night had gone better than you expected after the phone call. The alpha, Bucky, seemed content sitting on your couch as you read a book. You had attempted to check on the bandages, but each time you got close, he would pull away from you, so you decided to leave it alone for the time being. At least he didn't seem to be in any immediate pain. It's not like you had anything to help him anyway. You knew you should have bought a first aid kit when you moved in two years ago. 

You were extremely nervous about leaving him alone there. Something inside you was nearly screaming at you to stay near him. You had never really been the kind of omega to feel the need to care for alphas, but something about him made you want to ensure he was okay and to be near him at all times. It was a very new feeling for you.

You must have fallen asleep reading because you awoke to a knock at the door. Immediately upon awakening, you jumped up, the book falling on the floor, and looked at Bucky. His eyes were on you, but his body was pointed toward the door, with squared shoulders and his feet in a wide stance. You tried to calm your pounding heart as you made your way to the door. It was probably your neighbor or something. As you had made contact with the cool brass of the knob, a hand wrapped around your wrist, stilling your actions. 

"Нет, не открывай дверь. Мы не знаем, кто это" You looked at Bucky; his jaw was set, and a scowl was on his face. You really wish he spoke any English. 

"I have to open the door. What if it's my neighbor?" You half-whispered. This close to him, you could smell the sour lemon radiating off of him. You really wondered if you would ever be able to sense what his base scent was. It always felt like it was corrupted by something. Right now, there was very evident fear.

"Оставь их в покое. Это может быть Hydra" His hand was still on your wrist, squeezing lightly. Another knock sounded from the door, this time louder than the one that woke you up. 

A voice also came from the other side saying your name, "I just wanted to come check on ya to see if you needed a ride." John, thank god it wasn't the police coming to find the alpha in your living space. You thought it might be the neighbor; sweet old beta across the hall would sometimes bring you breakfast. But with the loud knocks, you had doubted your assumption. Usually, her knocks were quiet, and she never knocked twice.

You moved your wrist from under Bucky's grasp and lightly pushed him to the other side of the door so you could open it without him being seen. It's not like it would help, though. His scent was filling up the entire space. 

"Hey, John! It's good to see you." The alpha in question was waiting there, his hands stuffed in his pockets and an eyebrow raised. He took a second, looking you over and around the space before speaking. 

"Yeah, yeah, you need a ride to the station?" John wasn't really one for formalities at the best of times. As of right now, he looked stressed. You guess it had something to do with last night, given that the "burglar" had targeted his business.

You were hoping to avoid going down to the station for the time being, at least while Bucky was in your care. You also weren't the best liar, and it's not like you could just walk in there and tell them that you helped the man who broke into your boss's establishment and brought him to your house. 

You took a deep breath. "Actually, I was hoping to do that later. Something came up that needs my attention right now." You smiled at John, one of those awkward "what-can-you-do" smiles.

"Unfortunately, I am afraid you can't do that, missy. That german asshole... what was his name...Detective Schwarz said to have you come in as soon as possible." He took a breath, "real piece of work, that one."

A noise came from behind the door, causing you to look in Bucky's direction. His hands were on his head, covering his ears, and a pained look was on his face. The scent of fear filled the room. You looked back at John and gave him a quick, apologetic smile.

"I'm sorry, John. This is really important, but I must deal with something. I promise I'll go this afternoon, but right now, I have to close this door, bye." You said it so quickly that some words jumbled together as you shut the door. Turning back to Bucky, you moved closer to him, hoping to help somehow. 

"What's wrong? What's going on?" You moved your arms out to touch him, but he backed away. "What is it?" 

He stumbled to the ground, sitting with his back resting against the door. You followed him down, trying to figure out what to do. 

Your instincts pushed you to get closer. Facing him, you leaned into his neck, scenting him. You tried to radiate calm, caring energy as you nuzzled his neck. It took a second for you even to realize what you were doing. You felt his shoulders move down before feeling his arms around your torso, pulling you into him. His breathing slowed from the short breaths. He dipped his nose against your scent gland, taking long whiffs, assumidly breathing you in.

"Bucky," you exhaled, feeling so relaxed in this position you didn't know how long you had been like this. You hadn't known him for a whole day yet, and here you were scenting him, and he was as well! You had never been even close to doing so with any other alpha you had been around. You tried to get up, seeing as his breathing was normal and his scent had become sweet, almost like lemon meringue. But his arms squeezed you a little tighter, keeping you in place.

"Don't go," his voice was deep and strained, almost as if it hurt him to utter those two words. Wait, he can speak English... this entire time, he could speak English, yet here you were, thinking there was no hope for communicating with him. You wondered why he could suddenly say it now and not earlier. 

You gave him a few more moments like that, him holding onto you like you were the single thing keeping him tethered to the earth. You moved very slowly from his grasp, keeping close in case he needed you. You looked into his eyes. This was your first time looking at them so closely. They were beautiful crystal blue, seemingly as deep as the ocean. 

"What's wrong?" You whispered, his eyes dilated at your voice. His chest moved as he took a deep breath, carrying you with it. He must have been searching for the right words because it was several moments before he spoke. 

"Handler." His voice was quiet and shook as if saying the word terrified him.

"Handler? I don't think I understand."

"My handler." The phone rang, making him tense under you. Seriously, people needed to leave you alone. Unfortunately, it seemed like that knocked him out of the moment you two were having because he gently moved you to the side as he got up and made his way to the living room. 

You grumbled as you got up, making your way over to the phone. Sparing Bucky a look as you passed by, you didn't know what he had gone through, but between the wounds he still had from the day before, and how he reacted to that one name, you knew it had to be quite traumatic. You grabbed the phone, slightly irritated about it interrupting. 

"Hello?" You practically growled into the phone.

"Hello, this is Detective Schwarz at the Cushing Police Department. I wanted to ensure you came in today to give your statement." This guy definitely had a prominent german accent that was for sure. Your eyes move to look at Bucky, sitting on your couch, hunched over, looking at his hands, quite unaware of the person on the other side of the phone.

"Hello, may I ask why you called?" You were trying to keep your voice as even as possible, but it was challenging.

"Ah, yes, I wanted to make sure you came in to give your statement. Normally, we wouldn't allow you to do it the next day, but given your... designation. We wanted to make sure you were comfortable and ready to. Must have been quite scary for you, knowing the place you worked at was burglarized a mere minutes after you had left it." His tone irked you. It was one alphas did when they looked down on you. Something you were very familiar with growing up. 

"No, I am fine, thank you." You forced out through gritted teeth.

"Excellent, then you'll have no problem coming in by noon? If you don't think you can make it, we can always come to you, where you're comfortable in your nest." By now, you were seething. This pathetic excuse of an alpha just insinuated being in your nest. The audacity of him and all the other police officers on the force! Had they no shame?

You bit your lip before speaking, "No, sir, that won't be needed. I'll be there at 12."

"Wonderful," He didn't even leave time for you to respond before he hung up. Now you understand what John meant when he said the detective was a piece of work. 

You sighed, feeling most of the tension leave your body. Something in the back of your mind made you have a bad feeling about this, though. But you really didn't need the police coming to your apartment, especially with Bucky around. You had no idea how he would react to them, especially if the detective showed up. 

You looked at the clock in your living room, 11:30 a.m. Great. You made your way over to the loveseat you had occupied last night. 

"I have to go to the police station to give my statement." as soon as you said police, Bucky's head snapped up in your direction. You rubbed your hands together for some reason, very nervous to make him upset. "If I don't, they'll come here, and I would rather that not happen. I won't be long. Just please stay here. We'll figure out what to do when I get back."

Honestly, you didn't know the end goal here, to get him away from here. Something inside you hurt at the idea of him away from you. It's not like you could run away with him, though. You had a whole life here, and you couldn't just give that up for some alpha you met last night. Sighing, you looked back up at him. Trying to read his face, it had returned to what seemed to be a permanent scowl.

"Okay," was the only thing he said. You nodded and went to get ready as quickly as possible, trying to look like you didn't have a rough night last night when you arrived at the station. It was only a fifteen-minute drive, but you were still cutting it close in time.

You were ready, at the door leaving your apartment, when you looked at Bucky again. He was looking at you with the same scowl. You wanted to give him a hug but shook the thought out of your mind. Shutting the door behind you as you left. Unaware that once you had made your way out of the complex, a certain alpha had also left your apartment.

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A/N: Thank you for reading! I think I'll try to make these progressively longer.

What do yall think is going to happen when reader goes to give her statement?

Also, did you know lemon meringue was popularized in the 40s? According to my google search, at least. What a coincidence.

Constructive criticism is encouraged!

No beta we die like men

See you in the next one - Phrog