#I’m a grown ass adult and what I do with my money is none of your damn business

[lesbiansanemi]

It is officially time to set up a new bank account!

[bikerblah]

God bless the soldiers! And airmen, sailors. I am a product of the United States Department of Defense, my father was a soldier, my mother was a hippie, I have a little brother, and nobody cares !!! I have learned lol, but the advantage of growing up moving around a lot, is the culture you can absorb and life’s moral lessons are always on a faster grading curve …

There’s a town outside of Ft Sill , Oklahoma known as Lawton . As I recall the only notable thing about the town , other than the military base was a Goodyear plant , soooo just sniff on that for a sec . I’m trying to place the year in time and the only thing I got is when the raiders and redskins went to the superbowl My little brother had the raiders rain poncho and I was rocking the redskins , my brother was so popular walking around the Taft elementary school yard during recess, I digress , It was the first time I remember that my dad had decided to live off base , even that’s not really important but at this time in my life I would first come to understand the “have’s” and “have not’s”.

I guess it’s common to progress as a child on two wheels into BMX racing but what I have learned is that it is not common, is what everyone refers to as a natural . In fact it takes a lot time , money , and practice to get good at two wheels (no matter what discipline) … now all I saw was the neighbor kid that was my age riding around on a cool looking huffy, and before I know it , he and his parents are inviting dad and I to the local BMX race track.

Why am I typing this ? Cause I have to start at the beginning, None of the clicks or or sub cultures are going to make sense if the “beginning” is skipped, however I can summarize, I didn’t have a proper track bike when I went , my father also didn’t understand why the helmet and pads he bought at the post exchange on base were frowned upon , this would be my first experience with American civilian citizens and the very pervasive judgement and ridicule one will endure when your poor.

… I had to be about 9 years of age , the track was located in an area near “medicine park” just outside of the Indian reservation, I remember buffalo/bison grazing near the road as we drove to the track, I also remember the emotional roller coaster of excitement turning to fear as you see the track and riders, my dad had to help me pull my huffy out of the trunk , the older boys were catching so much air off the jumps, the only thing that stopped my legs from shaking was pedaling the bike to registration. My dad barley had the 10 bucks to participate, at the end of the night I would have wrecked twice , bent my front rim , would learn how to take insults from grown adults and also experience another competitor donating a rim and showing me how to change the inter tube, I would place 5th in my first BMX attempt and although it’s nothing to brag about, it was enough to come back the next weekend and race without having to pay another registration fee, something my dad liked a lot , there was a half dozen races and the best I did was a 3rd place finish, a blue ribbon, no trophies in the early 80’s . I also took with me a fundamental dislike for American civilians and the status they assigned to wealth, don’t get me wrong the best riders on the track were not poorly equipped but you could see that the best riders, the more successful riders had good gear and equipment, they were also the ones that helped out the most .

I’ve carried this memory with me for close to 40 years now , and in my youth I was relentless to call out “posers” , “glamour boys”, “wannabes” , “cheerleaders”, and “fakers of funk” … I would take a permanent maker and write “I am a slow ass pussy” on your rear tire near your chicken strip , then stand there making fun of your squeaky new leather jacket , trying to get you to swing on me, I have been in many dust ups , and if I’m honest, I’ve lost more fist fights then I have won … if I’m going to be honest…. As I do an inventory on this behavior, it’s just jealousy, I have always believed that you shouldn’t be able to buy your way into this culture , at least not “hard core biker” culture .

The economic downturn of 08/09 , taught me a big lesson in economics, hindsight is always clear but , I have learned that it’s the rich or the more affluent motorcyclists that keep the culture funded, when Freddy Mack and Fannie mae went bust, Sons of Anarchy finished, Billy Lane killed a man drunk driving… again … all the bike build shows left cable , it was hard for a biker , no one was buying bikes, no one was building, bike shops and dealerships just went away , it was a bubble and I was there , I remember living in a urban city of Nashville and could only get parts off of eBay … crickets, I still hear people say I used to ride , like it’s a pass to come and scrutinize my sled , I just nod , sometimes I’ll ask why did you stop ? Did you wreck? Have kids ? The answers vary but I usually can pick up that it just wasn’t a “cool” “popular” thing to do any longer , again the Population that is the American pop culture had decided, so what is the being a “biker” … is it a fad?? Is it a culture? Is it a lifestyle? Or is it simply an affordable form of transportation?? What is this thing of ours ??

Till the next blah 🤘… ride safe , ride sober 😎

[mypoisonedvine]

The Wrong Idea | Lee Bodecker x reader

summary: you weren’t exactly a rebel in the eyes of the law, but that didn’t mean you cared for the corrupt, alcoholic town sheriff.  and that certainly didn’t mean you would care at all for him marrying your mother.  if only you’d known how much worse it could get...

word count: 4.5k

warnings: smut!! (heavy dubcon/noncon), age gap (reader is 19), stepcest, loss of virginity, pain kink, creampie kink, infidelity, degradation, oral (m and f receiving), spanking, choking, slapping, daddy kink, authority kink, subtle ddlg themes?, reader’s mom being toxic af

You’d never cared for the Sheriff.  Even you, being generally a well-behaved young woman, thought he was a little too intense and a little too corrupt.  Up until now, you’d assumed your mother agreed with you on that, because she never protested to your complaints about Sheriff Bodecker and his ‘fascist reign of terror’ as you called it.  Apparently that was a poor assumption, though.

“You… what?!”

“I never told you we were seein’ each other because I knew you had your childish rebellion against him and his police force,” your mother explained with a demeaning eyeroll.  “But now that we’re engaged, I can’t hide it anymore.”

“How long has this been going on?” you asked quietly, still in shock at what you were hearing— and unable to take your eyes off of the sparkling diamond wrapped around her finger.

“Oh, I’d say… about two months now,” she decided.

“Two—” you stopped and started over, so bewildered that you couldn’t finish your original sentence.  “You’re engaged after two months?”

“Don’t make that face at me, you look so ugly when you scowl like that,” she frowned.  Of course, she could never miss an opportunity to nag you.  “He’s a respectable man, and he treats me well.  The wedding is in three weeks— and he’s generous enough to let you live with us after that.  Says there’s a spare bedroom for you in his house.”

“His… his house…” you slurred, suddenly feeling light-headed.  “I’m… we’re moving…?”

“Yes, honey, and with your work ethic it’ll take you the whole three weeks to pack up, so you should start now,” she informed you with that cruel, fake smile of hers.

She walked away as you sat down on the couch, staring off into space, trying to comprehend what you just heard.  It’s not like you thought your mother was flawless or anything, or that you and her had a perfect relationship, but you thought she would’ve been a little more… gentle about all this.  She could do better than him anyways!  But she didn’t care about that, only money and status.  You could almost laugh at her small-mindedness to think the Sheriff of a nothing-town like Knockemstiff was actually plentiful in either of those things, but right now you couldn’t laugh.  You couldn’t even cry as you packed your things and said goodbye to the home you’d known your whole life.  You were just numb.

//

You couldn’t look him in the eye when you arrived at his house, duffel bags in hand and shoes stained with the dry red dirt of summer.  It was nicer than your old place, and if it were anyone else’s you’d say it had charm, but everything was tainted because you knew it was his.  You could sort of tell that this had been his bachelor pad for a while, but it had a half-assed attempt at hominess with the rug in the living room and a centerpiece on the kitchen table.  He even had a TV, presumably funded by bribes and all his other nefarious dealings— meaning you wouldn’t be able to bring yourself to watch it.

“Nice to meet ya, properly,” Lee greeted, though his monotone didn’t come across as particularly impassioned.

“Thank you, Sheriff,” you mumbled quickly, hoping to get this conversation over with.

“You don’t have to call me Sheriff anymore, you know.  Not in the house, at least.”

You nodded but said nothing, following him as he motioned for you and moved into the hallway.  You trailed behind him, noticing the eerie lack of any personal effects on the walls (no family photos, apparently, and not much of a family to photograph in the first place from what you’d heard), and stopped when he reached the door at the end.

“This is your room,” Lee informed you stiffly.  Opening the door, you were horrified by the assault on your eyes of pink.  Pink everything: pink wallpaper, a pink fuzzy quilt, pink bedframe.  There were even assorted stuffed animals on the bed, disturbingly enough.

“When my mother told you she had a daughter, did she not mention that I was grown?”

“You may be nineteen, honey, but you’re nowhere near grown,” he scowled.  “She didn’t tell me she had a daughter until two days before the weddin’.  This is what I managed to... improvise, since then.”

You almost had sympathy for him, just in that you two were both victims of your mother’s eccentricity.  Almost.  

“Must’ve inherited your expensive taste from your ma,” he frowned.  “Sorry, princess—” the nickname made his lips curl like the word itself tasted sour— “but this’ll have to do.”

“Oh, I’m nothing like her,” you sneered back, “cause I wouldn’t touch you with a ten foot pole.”

“What are you two chatting about?” your mother’s voice called from the kitchen.

Both of you answered at the same time: “Nothing!” 

With a grimace, you dragged your bag into the room and shut the door in his face.  It was those little acts of rebellion that had to tide you over.  You weren’t audacious enough to do anything actually cruel, or illegal, but you weren’t going to make this any easier for him.

At first it was just refusing to leave your room.  That worked for a week, until you realized you were going to starve to death.  So then the only times you saw him were at the dinner table, which you made into a protest by pretending he didn’t exist and refusing to answer his questions.  You occasionally relented when he asked you to pass something from your side of the table, but you never looked at him while you did it.  

He didn’t seem angry or sad about your determination to avoid him, if anything it seemed like he was happy to pretend you weren’t there either.  And that should’ve made it easier, but for some reason it bothered you even more.  You realized that maybe his attention did matter to you, even though it was negative attention that you were hoping to inspire, but you knew that was ridiculous and you tried to fight it.  Still, for all your plans to never see him, you sure did think about him a lot.  You thought about where he might be, so you could be somewhere else.  You thought about what he must be doing at work, and how he was probably continuing to be a nasty mean drunk as frequently as possible.  You wondered if he and your mother were making love just across the house, although you were lucky enough to never hear anything.  Just knowing that could be happening made you feel sick, even though you realized it was none of your business.  

You sometimes found yourself listening for it at night, just in case.

//

Your mother had decided to spend her new husband’s money on a trip, but the man himself couldn’t tag along— too much work to do, apparently.  The prospect of being left alone with him was nightmare fuel, but you didn’t even try to ask her to stay… you knew she wouldn’t listen.  She’d been totally absorbed in her own world since the wedding, seeming to be very fulfilled by the social role of ‘Sheriff’s wife’ to the point that she had lost all interest in her former position as ‘your mom’.  

There was a balance to the silence with her gone, though.  You avoided him, he avoided you; it was a tense truce, but a survivable one.  At least without her, nobody was going to try to make you two get along.  Friday night was different, though.  This time when he came home from work, you knew you were stuck with him until Monday morning.  That thought made you realize that you needed to get out and you didn’t care if you weren’t dressed for it.  It was hot, and it was just a walk so nobody was going to see you in this miniskirt anyway, right?

Too bad Lee was sitting on the couch, still in his uniform, not giving you any mind but likely to harass you before you could make it outside.  You figured if you just walked casually enough, he wouldn’t even notice, so you made your way towards the door.

“You’re not going out like that,” he announced suddenly, seemingly without even looking up from his newspaper.

“Says who?” you deflected quickly with a raised brow.  It wasn’t that you wanted to pick a fight, but you just couldn’t understand why he would even care what you were wearing.

“Says the guy who doesn’t want you to give all the neighborhood boys the wrong idea.”

“What idea?!” you asked, crossing your arms.  He shot you a look, quickly raking in your body and outfit which made you feel more observed than you cared for.

“The idea that you’re a slut,” he explained coldly.

You gulped at his words but tried to keep a poker face.  You didn’t let it get this far just to give up.  You were so sick of his shit; what made him think he could boss you around when he’d never even tried to get to know you?

“What makes you assume that’s the wrong idea?” you shot back, fighting the nervousness in your voice.

You hadn’t expected him to stand up instantly, the coffee table wobbling a bit when his knee bumped into it.

“The fuck did you say?” he hissed.

With his teeth bared at you he looked like a predator, and you felt like small, helpless prey.  You tried to muster some of your former confidence, but everything came out shaky and weak.  “I— I said that maybe it’s not the wrong ide—”

He pounced, crossing the room and slamming you back against the wall, a hand at each shoulder; you instantly cowered, shrinking back and turning your face away from him as far as you could.  You never thought he’d put his hands on you like this.  Your heart was pounding so loudly that you were surprised you could hear his hoarse whisper.

“Watch your tone with me.  I’m not kidding around.”

“I’m an adult,” you weakly fought back, “I can do what I want.”

“Not in my fuckin’ house you can’t!” he bellowed.

For some reason, it all hit you at once.  All the emotions you’d been suppressing since your mother had gotten engaged— all the anger and fear and betrayal and indignation, they came bubbling up before you could stop them.  

“I don’t even want to be in your ugly fucking house!” you cried in response.  “I don’t wanna be anywhere near you!  You’re a fascist and a tyrant and a pig!”

You expected him to get more aggressive but he suddenly stilled.  It was the scariest anger, that outwardly-calm type that made your blood go cold.

“Go to your room.”

You didn’t question it, turning to walk away (any excuse to get away from him, right?), but you didn’t expect him to follow you in and shut the door behind the both of you.

You were paralyzed with fear as he stepped past you and sat on your bed.  It was sort of strange as you realized you’d never seen him in your room before.  He stood out against the somewhat childish decorations, but you were in no mood to appreciate the humor of the situation as he patted his knee.

“Lay across my lap.  Don’t make me tell you twice.”

He couldn’t possibly be doing what I think he’s doing, could he? you wondered to yourself, but did as he asked.  You realized you’d never been so close to him before, the warmth of his body radiating through his clothes.  He smelled like cologne and booze, although you didn’t think he’d actually had much to drink yet today— at least compared to his normal habits.  It was almost worse to think that he wasn’t acting on drunkenness now.

“It’s prob’ly too late for it, but you are in serious need of discipline, young lady.”

You had no idea what he was talking about, but your body reacted to it differently than you expected.

His fingers slipped between the top of your skirt and your skin, having to pull pretty hard to get it down due to how tight it was.  You bit your lip and hoped he wouldn’t notice your arousal, but as your pussy was exposed, you could feel the breeze from the ceiling fan and you knew you were undeniably wet.  You didn’t know why, but you were.

“Count them for me,” he instructed coldly and before you could ask what you were counting, he brought his hand down firmly.  You felt his wedding ring in the slap and it made you feel a little sick.

“O-one,” you stammered.

He delivered four more, alternating cheeks, and you tried not to react with visible pain.  But as the intensity increased, you realized that not reacting might’ve actually been making it worse.  Either way, you couldn’t stop yourself from crying out when the eighth made your whole body lurch forward from the force.

“Eight!” you squealed, but both of you noticed the way you pushed your hips forward.  Unintentional as it may have been, you were trying to rub yourself on his thigh, desperate to be touched where it felt like all the energy of your body had focused.  You were sure you’d never been so horny before, and now your clit was nearly throbbing.  What the fuck is wrong with me?!

He quickly delivered the final two slaps before grabbing your neck, hoisting you up until you were on your knees before him.  He examined your face closely and you tried to keep your lip from shaking.

“You’re worse than I thought,” he hissed.  “You are in dire need of a punishment.  You should thank me for going so easy on you so far.”

You realized when his grip on your jaw tightened that he was being literal.  “Thank you, for going easy on me…”

“Where’d that fire go, huh?  Guess you’re all talk,” he laughed.  

He roughly shoved his fingers into your mouth, moaning lowly as your tongue rubbed against the pads of his fingers.  “This fuckin’ mouth.  You just don’t know when to keep it shut, do you?  Come on baby, open up.  I’ve got a better use for it than your fuckin’ disrespectful attitude.”

He used his free hand to work on his belt right in front of your face, and your eyes went wide.

“Don’t act so surprised sweetheart,” he said with a hint of irritation, “this is exactly what you’re asking for.”

You gasped a bit when his cock was freed from his trousers, springing up and already red at the tip.  You’d never seen one this close before and it was intimidating in every way.

“Like what you see?  You’re so wet for it,” he purred.  You tried to speak but words abandoned you. 

It was all a blur as he held your mouth open and shoved his cock inside— it tasted like skin and salt, and the size made your chapped lips crack until you worried they would bleed.  His moans were deep and gravelly, making your skin break out into goosebumps as he pumped smoothly into your pliant mouth.  He slapped your face a few times, not quite hard but plenty strong enough to make it sting.  You winced with each impact, the tears which had welled from your gagging finally falling down and dripping from your chin.

“Suck on it, princess, like a popsicle… fuck yeah, like that,” he groaned, and your mind resisted obeying him but your body was completely at his mercy.  “Aw baby, ya look so good chokin’ on my cock.  Is that what you were gonna go do in this slutty little outfit you’ve got on?”

You tried to shake your head but he was holding you down, not even giving you a chance to breathe.  His protruding stomach rubbed against your forehead when his cock was this deep in your throat, and the disgust and fear somehow made your arousal stronger.

He let you go, finally, and you pulled back with a gasp and a cough.  You weren’t given much reprieve, though, as he started to tug at your blouse as well.

“No, wait,” you whimpered, weakly trying to bat his hands away.

“Wait?  I think I’ve been waiting long enough,” he growled.  “Your ma’s a fuckin’ tease, hasn’t touched me since I got her that ugly fuckin’ ring.  Let’s hope you learn from her mistakes.”

Your blouse was torn open and tossed aside, leaving you only in the pulled-up skirt and your bra.  Reaching up to cover yourself, you were discouraged by the shockingly-gentle brush of his hands. 

“Don’t cover yourself, sweetheart, you’re gorgeous,” he murmured.  His gaze made you feel hot all over, and it wasn’t just because of the summer weather outside.  “Nobody ever looked at ya before?”

You shook your head, looking down at the floor.  A finger under your chin guided you to look up at him.  

“Nobody ever touched ya before?” he pressed, his stare boring into you.  You shook your head again.  “Fuck,” he whispered, but then he started to smile proudly.  “Knew you were a good girl, princess, you just didn’t wanna act like one for some reason.  You gonna be good for me now?” 

You nodded weakly, swallowing as you tried to comprehend what was happening.  

“Then I’ll be good to you, too,” he promised darkly, a shimmer in his eyes that made you throb between your thighs.  “Come get on the bed, pretty girl.”

You almost resisted, but it was your need driving you now, not your mind.  You had been waiting too long to let a boy touch you, and now that a man had touched you, you felt all kinds of wrong and yet craved more.  Before you had even finished sitting down beside him, he was slipping off your bra and pushing you back onto the quilt.

“Sheriff!” you yelped instinctively, a little disoriented as he started to climb on top of you.

He chuckled, clearly amused by your unexpected appeal to authority.  “Wanna know a secret, sweetheart?  Wanna know the real reason I said you didn’t have to call me that anymore?”  He leaned down, his breath hot and moist against your neck when he spoke: “Because it made me so fuckin’ hard when you said it.”

He pressed his cock, still wet with your spit, against your thigh; maybe just for emphasis, a reminder that he was still hard and wasn’t anywhere near done with you.

“What are you gonna do to me…?” you asked weakly, your voice so wavering and broken that you cringed just hearing it.  

“Just gonna make you feel good, princess,” he smiled, and before you could ask what that would entail, he was groping your tits in his large, calloused hands.  A low groan echoed in his chest, and you tried not to squirm as he teased your nipples between his fingers.  They were already hardening from the moment he’d touched you, but somehow it was getting even worse when he played with them, watching your face and surely seeing the shame you wore there.

His hands trailed lower, rubbing your waist, your thighs… you found yourself anticipating that he’d remove your panties, so much so that when he did, you quickly lifted your hips to help him slide them off.  You couldn’t believe how easily you were letting him do this to you.

“I can tell how much you want it,” he taunted lowly as the fabric slid down your legs and was tossed to the floor.  “I can smell how much you want it.”  He growled a little before diving in, licking a thick stripe through your folds and taking a moment right at the end to tickle your clit with his tongue.  “So fuckin’ sweet, princess; I knew you would be,” he praised.  You were forced to wonder how long he’d been thinking about this.

The noises were beyond obscene and you felt your face burning— but there was a burning in your gut, too, and shooting down your legs.  You’d never felt like this before (being a very good girl who never even touched herself), but you knew that if he didn’t stop, you would come.  And you really, really wanted to come.

Everytime he put pressure on your clit, your leg quivered involuntarily.  It was nearly too much, the sensation so powerful it almost hurt, but he pushed you right to the edge without knocking you off.

“Please,” you found yourself begging before you could stop it, “please, Sheriff—”

“I’m not your Sheriff anymore, sweetheart,” he informed you gruffly, popping up from between your legs with the entire bottom half of his face covered in your arousal, “I���m your daddy now.  Go on and beg your daddy to fuck you.”

Eyes shot wide open, you stared back at him in bewilderment.  Rage flashed in his eyes, and he snarled as his hand suddenly wrapped around your neck, tightening and choking you. 

“You heard me,” he groaned through his teeth.  “Beg me.  To fuck you.”

“Daddy,” you stammered, hoarsely fighting to speak through the pressure on your throat, “fuck me, please.”

He slammed his cock into you and you nearly screamed.  It burned and you instinctively tried to crawl away but, of course, his weight on top of you made it impossible.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groaned.  He laid down on top of you entirely then, slipping his arms under your torso and holding you tightly.

Each thrust made you feel like you had reached your limits, as if you couldn’t be stretched further which was probably true.  And yet, in spite of it (or worse, because of it), you found yourself moaning and writhing under him, even arching your back to make his movements smoother.  He laughed a little as he bit at the shell of your ear.

“You love it, baby,” he moaned, “you love my cock.”

You couldn’t respond, just sob as you clutched at the shirt still on his back, your jaw tight as you tried to bear the pain.  

“It’s not always gonna hurt like this,” he promised between heavy breaths, “s’gonna feel good soon.  Gonna make you feel so fuckin’ good, pretty girl.”

Truthfully, you weren’t sure if that meant that this would happen again or not.  At the moment, you were incapable of thinking that far ahead, too focused on the way the sting of the stretch was melting away and morphing into such powerful pleasure that you couldn’t even see straight.

He kissed you, and only then did the weight of it hit you.  Who he was, what he was doing, what you were doing… it had been distant and vague before, but something about his tongue inside your mouth made you remember that the metal digging into your back was his ring; that the lips on yours were sworn to somebody else— and at that, the one exact person that made this so fundamentally wrong.

Tears welled in your eyes, gentle sobs shaking your chest.

“Don’t cry, baby,” he whispered, pulling back and kissing your tears away, “feels good, don’t it?  Feels good when daddy fucks you?”

You knew speaking would only make you cry more, so you only nodded your head shamefully.

“That’s my good girl,” he moaned as he fucked you deeper, harder, rougher.  Your fingers held onto the back of his neck, running through his hair and pulling him closer.  He kept mumbling praises but they fell on deaf ears, pleasure clouding your mind and making every hair on your body stand upright.  He didn’t stop as he reached down between your bodies and laid his hand over your stomach, growling with satisfaction at what he found there.

“I can feel me inside ya,” he grinned.  “Feel that, sweetheart?  Feel how deep I am in your wet little cunt?”

When you didn’t answer, you got a quick slap to the face.  “Yes,” you replied quickly, “yes, I— I feel it.”

He buried his face into the crook of your neck, biting you there until you nearly screamed.  You couldn’t figure out why something so objectively painful only pushed you closer to your peak, making every spot inside you more sensitive, but somehow it did.

“Gonna come, pretty girl?  Want daddy to fill you up?” he groaned against your ear, pushing down on your stomach even harder.

“Yes, daddy!” you sobbed.  “Please!”

“Fuck, you’re squeezin’ me,” he hissed, “don’t fuckin’ stop.  Keep milkin’ my cock and m’gonna fill ya up so good, princess…”

You couldn’t stop even if you tried— your orgasm hit you in powerful waves, your head falling back as your walls clenched involuntarily (as did your fingers and toes, so hard that your nail tore the sheets a little bit, which you wouldn’t notice until the next day).  He grunted as he came, pumping into you with each thrust until you felt more full than you ever had before, in a way you could never describe.

The two of you stayed like that for a moment, him catching his breath and you losing yours as his weight threatened to crush you.  “Fuck,” he groaned as he sat up and pulled out.  He grabbed your legs and held them up for you, staring at your abused pussy and making you feel uncomfortably observed.

“Push it out for me, wanna see my come leak outta ya,” he purred, moaning a little when you did as he asked.  It felt even hotter as it gushed out of you, and you mindlessly bit your lip.  He tucked his softening cock back into his trousers, rezipping them and buckling his belt.  “We’d better get ya cleaned up, huh princess?” 

The bathroom wasn’t far, so he carried you, setting you down to stand on your own as he started to draw a bath.  You watched him, although you weren’t really watching him so much as staring into the void of space that happened to be in his general direction.  You were so out of it that you didn’t even register when he turned around and smiled at you with an air of pride.

“You look so good like this.”  

It pulled you out of your trance, though you had to ask him to repeat himself with a mumbled “huh?”

“I said you look good like this,” he explained, stepping closer.  “Fucked out, braindead, just my empty-headed fucktoy.”

“I… I don’t…” you began to disagree.

He used your jaw to turn your face to the mirror, and you gasped when you saw yourself: your hair was a mess; your whole face was red, especially your eyes and nose from crying, but plenty on your cheeks where he’d slapped you; your lips were swollen and slick; bruises were already forming on your arms where he’d grabbed you, and along your neck and shoulders where he had bitten you.

His form dwarfed yours as he stood behind you, looking at your reflection with a smile.

“Look at us,” he announced wistfully, “one big happy family, huh?”

[trollprincess]

Let me explain to you all why this is the greatest fucking day of my life.

First, I’ll explain what that doll is, for anyone too young to know what it is. That is a Cabbage Patch Doll. It’s not like a regular baby Cabbage Patch Doll, it’s some special sort of Cabbage Patch Doll that really doesn’t matter. What matters is who had it all this time. Cabbage Patch Dolls were *incredibly* popular around 1983-1986 or so, to the point where if you go on YT and search for them, you can very easily find news footage of adults going bugfuck in stores trying to get one of these for their kids.

The important thing is not what it is, or even what type it is. It’s WHO had it.

So I was about six or seven when these got big. I had a cousin Erica a year younger, and another cousin Danielle a year younger than that. And naturally we ALL wanted Cabbage Patch Dolls. At the very least, I know I eventually got one. And I did what every kid did with theirs. I loved it into the fucking ground. I played with it, I got it dirty, my grandma made it little outfits. I’m sure my cousins got theirs as well, since our grandma spoiled us all and they were only children, so either our grandma or their parents more than likely got them one.

BUT.

Aunt Phyllis was our great-aunt. She wasn’t married, she had no kids, so we were used to Aunt Phyllis giving us whatever we wanted. And we weren’t bad kids or greedy kids, we didn’t ask for anything extravagant. Aunt Phyllis took us for car rides and played old novelty songs like “The Streak” and “My Ding-a-Ling” and bought us ice cream. She was fun.

But she has always been one of those people who gets caught up in “this collectible will be worth something someday.” Beanie Babies, DVDs, etc. She didn’t have a lot of money, but she’d always find some to spend on those sorts of things. At one point in recent years, she had several iPads because she would buy the newest version but keep the old one, and then use one for email and another for Facebook and another for games and another for Kindle.

Anyway, when you’re six, you don’t understand “this collectible will be worth something in the future.” You understand Aunt Phyllis loves you, and always gets you stuff, and never says no.

So one day I go over to her house for a sleepover (we would stay in the twin beds in her room and we’d watch “Misfits of Science”) and I see THEM. *Six* Cabbage Patch Dolls. SIX. Two newborns and four regular Cabbage Patch Dolls, all set up and displayed on a table at the top of the stairs. (In front of a large window where they’d get a lot of sun and fade and depreciate, but I didn’t even think about that until years later.) Six Cabbage Patch Dolls, at a time when so many people could hardly get ONE.

I looked up at my great-aunt who gave me anything and asked in awe, “Can I have one?”

And my aunt looked back and said, “No.”

She also told me I couldn’t touch them. In fact, none of us could touch them. We were just supposed to ignore them. And I mean … I was six. Erica was five, Danielle was four. Are you serious? I can’t even look at them?

And, like, part of it was they sold these things as babies. They were *real*. They came with birth certificates and everything. So leaving them sitting there in the box all alone with no one to play with them … it made me sad. It made me sad for YEARS. I would occasionally be reminded of Cabbage Patch Dolls, and every time I did I thought of those lonely dolls sitting in Aunt Phyllis’s house and I’d get sad.

I’m sure eventually she gave them away or sold them or something, but having one of *Aunt Phyllis’s* dolls was the dream. I do think part of it was so rarely being told no as a kid, but also that taunt of “you can’t touch them or have them or look at them, they’re just THERE.” That was the holy grail of my childhood.

Cut to now, forty years later. I am a grown-ass woman. My Aunt Phyllis is in her eighties and has been having some health issues, so my parents and cousins are helping her move into senior living apartments in town. This means cleaning out her house, which understandably has a mountain of stuff in it. (It’s not on “Hoarders” levels, but it’s cluttered.)

My mom texts me and says, “Your aunt can’t take a lot of this stuff with her when she moves. Is there anything you’d like?” I said there are two things I’d be open to taking - books (another thing my aunt used to collect), and a Cabbage Patch Doll, if she had any of them left.

Last week, my mom goes, “Come up the house, I have something for you.”

AND THERE SHE WAS.

She is out of the box. I’m not putting her back in. She’s been in a closet for *forty years*. I am going to take this doll and love it until it *falls the fuck apart*. I’m going to get it dirty. I’m going to let the dog play with it. I’m going to make up for four decades of this poor thing not having a little girl to love it by being the big girl who loves it.

And I’m changing her name to something awesome. Like Carrie Fucking Fisher.

[mystic-faraday]

UTIL Plays Phoenix Wright: Justice For All (Case: Turnabout Bigtop... *sighs*)

(We had a drinking game going on while playing this case, if you would like to play your own version of the Turnabout Big Top drinking game, you can find it HERE )

- “Time for the worst case”

- “Breaking news: spirit channeling is a STEM FIELD! NOT magic.”

- Phoenix VA:  “Alright pearl you’re gonna learn about gay people” Pearl VA:  “I hope you have a good night and learn about gay people like me” Franziska VA: “Oh I think he already knows sweetie”

- Pearl “I wanna be gay when I grow up” Fey

- Max :“you’ve got to be pulling my magic wand” Everyone in call collectively: NOPE,NO NO NON O

- “Are those homestuck horns on his desk?”  “It’s a moustache!”  *unanimous chanting* “Model magic moustache!” 

- Miles VA: “I like knitting” Franziska VA: “And I like coins” Together: “We did not come out of the same loins”

-"cotton eyed m--" "HOW BOUT COTTON EYE NO?????"

-Gumshoe VA:  "Maybe I did wanna be a magician, maybe I didn't. what are you, a cop?"

-”Why does Moe have a set of suspenders that have such a defined butt?” “THOSE PANTS IMPLY MOE HAS A DUMPTRUCK ASS”

- Moe: Appears for the first time and tells his first joke Entire VC: silent as everyone takes a drink

- Maya: “Phoenix Laugh!” Phoenix VA:“Har, Har, Har, Har, Har *opens flask* har har **takes sip*”

- “We all have a metaphorical carrot in front of our faces…or something”

- “Guys, does Moe Fuck??? “OBJECTION: no one wants to hear the answer to that” “Well he’s got that Dumptruck Ass” “Moe the clown more like Hoe the clown”

- “What if we kissed under the carrot mistletoe and we were both clowns”

-We uncovered the collective truth that Manfred von Karma, like every single other person in the ace attorney series, is transgender, and therefore did not need to sleep with anyone to create Franziska 

- “The straightest character in this series is Trilo ‘cause he’s made of wood”

- Everyone refusing to read any lines of dialogue relating to the marriage / relationship between a child and a grown adult &  Casually just skipping entire sections of dialogue because none of us have the emotional willpower to voice act them.

- Trilo Voice: nipples!

- “WE CANT SAY # GIRL IN THIS COURTROOM!”

- “Bitter love tria” *cuts off mid-sentence due to psychic damage*

- “ I cant believe I dodged a fucking bullet by voicing the clown”

- “How do you respond to this?” *Someone’s bottle making a swish noise as everyone takes a drink* “The Foley of it all”

- Franziska Voice: he’s my poor little meow meow

- “I’m never forgiving this game for west clownadelphia”

-“Have you met my proctologist? Dr. Seymour Butts!!’ “OH MY GOD LARRY’S DAD?!” “Everything is circling back to Moe’s ass...”

- Miles VA: This is why I left the country Franziska VA: IM SORRY FOR EVERYTHING WE DID IN OUR CHILDHOOD PLEASE PICK ME UP IM SCARED

- Mii Sports ‘Nice Shot’ plays every time Franziska whips someone

- Moe: Trauma dumps in a court of law 2 seperate people: Sir this is a wendys

- “I’ll talk as long as you want!” UTIL greek chorus: ~Please Don’t~\

- “my poor little honk honk”

- “Something is toying with this court and it’s not me”  “IT’S THE GODDAMN PUPPET”

- “I don’t know why (im so tired)- actually i do. it’s because we’re playing bigtop”

- Actively replacing the word ‘sweetie’ with any word starting with the letter S

-*long pause of silence* “I think his nipples are the roses”

- “Max has a big... bust?” “We get it Phoenix, you’re a tits man!”

-”(Max’s Bust) Went missing 5 days ago” “HE HAD TOP SURGERY 5 DAYS AGO?!” “Teetus Deleteus”

- *Call dead silent except for the voice actors during the ‘Prosecutor Edgeworth chooses Death’ discussion* *The moment the scene ends* “WHY THE FUCK WAS THIS IN TURNABOUT BIGTOP?!

- “Miles Edgeworth chooses Bed”

-“Ooh ooh ah ah come here my little pogchamp”  Money: Instantly starts attacking Phoenix “ I guess he didn't like being called pogchamp”

- “I want to get to the end so i can get a shirt or pin saying ‘I survived the big top’” (Note: Everyone who made it to the end got a server role called ‘I survived Turnabout Big Top)

-“Moe is Regina’s uncle because he was dating the ringmaster” “The ringmaster is his rebound from his breakup with Manfred” “Terrible work everyone”

- “~Because it’s turnabout big top and life is a Fucking Nightmare~!”

- Entire VC, entering HOUR 6 of this case: “This is the case that never ends! It goes on and on my friends”

-‘Nothing can interrupt me expect death itself” *very quietly in the distance* ‘nice shot’

-Leon: *Bites Bat* “WAS THAT THE BITE OF’ 87?!”

-Phoenix: Deep, deep down I know you want to do good Franziska and Edgeworth: *hissing*

-Acro: *Starts Crying* *in the distance* nice shot\

-Edgeworth: *Appears at the ending scene* Franziska VA: THATS MY BROTHER

“Turnabout Bigtop, The End” Entire VC: *ERUPTS IN CELEBRATORY SCREAMS*

BONUS ROUND: Alternative Names for Turnabout Big Top: Turnabout Please Stop Turnabout Big Top: It Only Gets Worse Turnabout Nice Shot

VIDEO VERSION: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hhpeReADAoM

[the-goddess-of-mischief-writing]

New York High Rise {1}

Chapter summary; During all your years as the most successful mob boss of New York, no-one have ever dared to seriously battle for the crown with you. Up until now. Steven Grant Rogers, son of the infamous mob boss Joseph Rogers, has suddenly chosen you as his rival. Who will be winning in the end?

Pairing: Steve x reader  

Rating: Mature

CHAPTER NO/ONESHOT: Chapter 1/5

Word; 5.9k

Warnings; swearing is standard in my works, mentions of canon-type violence 

Author; @the-goddess-of-mischief-writing

A/N: I actually started this series on a whim and all of a sudden ended up having four chapters. I really love it for some reason, maybe because it such a powerplay and I’m a hoe for that trope, especially when it’s a enemies to lovers story. Anyhow, enough of my rambling, I hope you guys enjoy this little mid week update! PSA: If you want to be tagged in the series, jus send me an ask!

SERIES MASTERLIST

Golden chains and champagne. Fancy watches and whiskey on the rocks. Whatever related to the word expensive you were associated with. Although, unlike many others in your business, you hadn't grown up in this world of luxury, nor had you inherited the empire you now were the boss of, enabling you to live the extravagance life you did. No, you were one of the few who'd worked their ass off to earn every last thing you owned.

By most, your efforts looked like a great business mind and some luck. How else could you've become a multi-millionaire on investing in stocks? But to others, those knowing the flipside of the coin, they knew your success in capitals was nothing but a cover for your stealthy work in the shadows. It was a dance, one with feline grace, that you'd performed to reach your position. A status meaning you were one of the most famous mob bosses in New York City.

When hearing mafia, most would think of the old Italian image of people smoking cigars in fedoras, with some moustache that looked similar to pencil lines on their upper lip. Those who owned cities and the whole country knew of it but could do nothing about it.

Perhaps some of these stereotypes suited the older godfathers of New York, who sat proudly on their pedestals and watched the world pass by. But you were different from them. You didn't just watch the world continue and progress by itself. You moved along with it.

You were the new generation.

Compared to the godfathers, who every last person in New York and the bordering states knew off, you had two faces. One you showed the public and one you ruled the underworld with. To society, you were spotless, a name associated with nothing but a sharp mind and benevolence to the public. But you were at the top in the underworld syndicate, the biggest of the biggest. Yet, you didn't rule with fear, simply that of uttermost respect and earned trust. In other words, your reputation or connections weren't bought. They were deserved.

Thus, compared to the older generations, your face could be recognised by a civilian or someone from the underworld, none thinking about calling the police or betraying your trust. You owned the city without it even knowing it.

It was from the way you'd reached this top in stunning silence, together with the grace you played everyone with, that you and your empire earned the alias felines. Like a tiger cub who grew into an adult, your empire was once the smallest but now the biggest. Like a lion, you evoke respect and awe no matter where you went. Like a cat no one cared about, you could cross the streets without an issue in public.

Some of the elders, at least those who were your allies, had expressed their concern of your brassiness. 'Why play cat and mouse with fate?' they often said. But you always answered the same 'I am the cat'. And it was true. Despite some of those opposed to your methods, or just you in general, took the chances they could at picking you off the map. No one ever succeeded. Solely for one reason.

Now, you deemed agreeing to one of your first ever business deals the best choice you ever made. Although it meant you financed some of the worlds leading underground tech corporation with quite some substantial coin, the panthers were nowadays always watching over you. They lingered in the shadows, disarming every try at putting a bullet through your skull.

Albeit not as famous as yourself or the organisation you ran, the Black Panther Operation the sibling pair T'Challa and Shuri operated was, in no shape or form, not impressive. They'd established themselves as the leading organisation, even if not known by half of the people in New York, in the tech area. Not only were they invaluable to the numerous politicians wanting them to work under the radar to get the upper hand on sovereign states, but they also were to you.

They hadn't only supplied you with their physical protection of their elite bodyguards, the Dora Milaje or in common-tongue known as the shadow panthers, but their tech as well. Although, compared to anyone who would've been in your position and chosen the weapons or impenetrable bodysuit that Shuri, ever the genius she was, had invented, you'd chosen one of the other assets. The cloud, the internet.

Hackers were the way forwards compared to warriors. They were the weapon of keeping you one step ahead of anyone by supplying you with the information needed to be able to hold someone's life in your hands.

It was only to look back at the countless occasions anyone tried to persuade you into a business deal you would do nothing but lose at. Thanks to Shuri having dug out the facts that could bring any of your rivals down in the dumps, you'd walked victorious away anyways.

You were certain any of the other godfathers would've killed someone for even thinking, no less trying, to propose a disreputable arrangement with them in the first place. Yet, you knew how much one ever could make a death look like a self-caused accident, that in the end, people would start to wonder why it happened to people of the same background, connected to one and the same empire. However, the former generations didn't really care about bad publicity anyway, so why would they care about lining the street with dead bodies? But the difference was you weren't them.

By all means, some would say your ways was far more torturous than a bullet between the eyes. You wouldn't agree or disagree, only say it was just. Involving a legal and judicial battle was the new way of handling conflicts, after all. It was more efficient than having to wash the blood of your name all the time, according to you. Not only that, you gained a lot more than just a dead body.

You were in somewhat of partnership with most bosses around the city. Those you weren't, rather those you'd only settled a deal with that said "as long as you kept to each of your own territory nothing would happen", did try to bend the rules and use the terror tacit. Either they targeted you personally or something equally as important in your part of the city. It could be anything that would get to you, really. But, no matter what they did, they tried to not do it themselves. Instead, hire a hitman or someone equally as bad. The problem with this was that these people's records were far from innocent, something you used to your advantage.

If you tasked Shuri to find anything and everything these people had done, it was easy to find a person they'd wronged and who sought revenge or justification. The only thing you did was play your hand well, usually meaning you pulled some strings and supply the money. While T'Challa, as the expert he was on it, handed out the information his sister had gathered to reliable sources. Your collaboration made the person you hunted sit opposite someone from their past in a courtroom. Most of the times, they also lost the case.

Choosing to do this rather than go rampage and fire your gun aimlessly meant you settled as a second, or sometimes even third or four-hand source to what went down. So not only did your name remain clear despite answering a rivals offence, your involvement was nearly impossible to track as well. Thus, you could take down five of a rivals' men while they only took one of yours.

Despite one could call you out on hypocrisy, saying that the shadow panthers protecting you didn't own the same benevolence and were quick and silent in their killing, there was one reason you didn't care about the fact. Currently, they may be under a shared command, but their never-ending allegiance was always towards the founders of the Black Panther Operation. If either Shuri or T'Challa said stand back or decided to cut their deal with you, the shadow panther's protection would disappear. The same went if you chose to rip the contract.

However, it was a slim chance that either of the siblings or you would terminate your arrangement. Seeing how now, years later, you still were the sole person working a continuous agreement with them. That was why nowadays, your and theirs organisations were nearly associated as the same by most in the underworld.

Your style of ruling New York and living such different lives in the light and dark made others in your profession joke you were the sole one with an ordinary life. That you were no traditional mafia, simply a highly functioning business-orientated company that invested in stocks. However, both you and everyone around you knew that wasn't true. The reason? You weren't afraid to use every last of your assets to remain in control of your empire. Whatever it took.

And that was a promise someone the last months had put up to the test.

You don't know what set it off, perhaps the old saying of cats and dogs never working well together. Or that because you were at the top drew enough confidence out of someone to try and knock you down. For whatever reason, someone decided to start a ruckus with you.

It had begun small enough you had no idea that someone was behind it. Connections or deals with companies connected to your empire backing out of contracts in the last seconds, saying they got a better offer. The word secrecy, frequently used for ones own safety in the world you lived in, was a term you'd heard enough times by now to grow tired of. It was no significant agreements, seeing how you were well enough to not care about money, but it was plenty bothersome for your pride.

The next step in the escalation had been dealings slightly more important than a question of money, which was your territory and thereby also safety. You still had some meetings with a few godfathers, had fore some time actually. It was mostly those who once had opposed you in the days you weren't a threat or those who just tried to live secludedly enough that they died by natural causes rather than in a cell or from rivalry.

Each of those conferences had been about securing your grip on Manhattan. Primarily to obtain some neighbourhoods closest to Harlem Park and the northern part of the Inwood neighbourhood. Both of which currently was in some sort of grey zone. Meaning neither owned by them nor you. Although those areas were still not written as yours, concerning how those old bosses abruptly didn't seem to want to seal any deals that they weeks ago had agreed on.

Then you'd entered the third stage. The one that made you understand all these cancellations wasn't merely coincidence, but somebody working against you. People from both your closest crew and the Black Panther section had been disappearing. It wasn't uncommon. Your business was nothing but personal feelings and wants most of the times. However, concerning how few men and women you'd lost under your watch, this sudden increase was off-putting.

Closer to the truth was something like this had never happened to this extent before. You hadn't had people close to you or anyone associated with you abducted. However, the worst thing was that the bodies of those disappearing were never not found bloody or in a morgue.

Money or failing to persuade old godfathers wasn't something you took personal, but when people started dropping like flies around you, that you took personally. Hence, you, Shuri and T'Challa worked endlessly on finding who was behind it.

Almost every time, you found the culprit of the act, but not the big boss behind it all. Disabling you from taking more than one person out of play. That your jaw hadn't broken for how much you'd clenched it in frustration, or your teeth shattered from the amount you gritted them was a mystery. You hunted the person ordering these things, yet with no success.

Although one day, when one of the subordinates in your very own team had been missing for a week returned, barely clinging to their consciousness, you'd gotten to know who this new rival of yours was.

Steven Grant Rogers.

The canines, an alias for the Rogers family, were equally known as any of the old US President in the underworld in New York. If one hadn't heard of them in your profession, it was more likely that you already were dead or not in it all because they were notorious.

They'd ruled Brooklyn with an iron fist and was probably the crown specimen of the reputation that accompanied the word mafia. There was a grace in their affairs and killing. But compared to your work, which was performed in shadows and silence, they flaunted it, not scared of running from the police because they already knew they never would be caught.

From what you knew, they'd fallen off somewhat after Joseph Rogers, the head of the Canine Empire, died in one of the rivalries between mobs. His death had been years before you were even born, close to an age it was as high of a chance he could've passed from natural causes. Still, the commotion and continuous dispute following his disappearance and the unclear leadership had served as a fall for the Canine Empire. There was no doubt your rise to the same amount of power as the former union possessed would've been as easy if you'd had them as your opponents.

However, now, it seemed like the past would haunt you down in the form of Joseph Rogers son.

Albeit you never met the new boss of the Canines, there was no doubt you considered, for the first time, to personally put a bullet through someone's head. Steven Grant Rogers was as ruthless as stories told his father had been. He'd even been labelled the golden boy of Brooklyn, rumoured to restore the brutal power of the Canine Empire. Yet, the spot he was reaching for with old alliances regrouping to boost him to the top was a position you currently occupied.

This is where the difference between if you'd had a regular business organisation and the domain you now did, settled in. You went on total offense.

You contacted T'Challa and Shuri, calling them in for a meeting. Even though the pair knew of what had happened so far, they were your partners and thus, you would discuss the actions you would take with them, even if your deal said nothing of that sort. But you knew, compared to your rival, it seemed, how important it was to hold onto your closest allies with other methods than fear and the threat of death. And thus, you also received the help of a friend rather than a business partner.

It must've been the bloodiest month in the last decade from the rivalry that blossomed up between the Felines and Canines the second you started to answer the new top dog's advances. You got reports that the shadow panthers watching your back had cleared more people putting you up as a target than in a long time. As well, did more of the people under your name end up red in back allies.

Then it shifted. As soon as you started getting trails of more people than just the executioners, you were suddenly able to take out divisions of his minions. And while the killing went on, you started winning the big battles. In other words, while Steven continued to play it hard, you started to play smart.

You cut off deals he could do in Brooklyn, much harsher and unforgiving than his initials ones on your side of the East River. It was everything from supplies, to money, to the extra set of eyes. Everything to limit him to sources you knew he wouldn't be happy with having to resort to. While handling this, with the help from Shuri, you also broadened your search to find every little dirty-worker under the mob boss's command. Thanks to those now operating for you on the Brooklyn side, you helped people who'd had a past with Steven's men tip police of and capture them.

Pawn by pawn, you lessened the number of ways the Canine boss could run in taking down your empire. You had him cornered, already several moves ahead of him whatever he chose to do. Only, it was one step you thought he never would do that, in the end, made everything come to a skidding halt.

He'd requested a parley.

"Y'know I don't really like the idea of you meeting him", you didn't look up from the papers you currently were reading to look at Shuri where she lounged on your office's couch.

Though it felt like you should examine the folder that rested in your handbag     -the one containing the event plans for the charity event you would host for the many high society individuals and governors, or anyone with money really, in two weeks- those documents weren't the ones you were looking through now.

It was five days ago since Steven had asked for the parlay. Ever since then, you'd worked on the deal you would offer him. You had no desire to sign whatever he would hand to you. And you knew he would propose something. The Canine boss was the challenger, after all. Even more so, the one requesting a meeting from the start. Thus, he, for one, would offer something to cease your continuous confrontations and two, he would try to drag you down while elevating himself. That you couldn't have.

"I know", you finally responded when having read the side you were on in the contract you had put together for your rival. "Still, I want to hear what the man has to say so I can stop losing resources, time and people", you turned to the next page as you said this.

There came no response immediately despite that you felt Shuri was looking at you. You'd gotten good at noticing this, someone observing you. Hence, even though the best of the panthers always were safeguarding you somewhere in the crowds, it never hurt to not solely depend on others for your own safety. Because that was what your constantly high attentiveness was for anyways. To always be keen on your surroundings and try to detect someone's move before they did it.

"It's almost interesting to see someone challenge you for the position of being the big boss, Lekati", it wasn't only at the reserved nickname Shuri used that caught your attention. The rest of what she'd said also made you pause mid-turn of the last page, eyes automatically shifting to her.

Now, instead of sprawling across the piece of furniture the women occupied, she sat upright with a smile ghosting her lips. Your eyes narrowed as you noted this.

"Oh, stop imagining using your sharp claws on me".

"I wasn't".

"You're a bad liar when you want to be", the tech mogul pointed out with a finger directed towards you. Your features stayed indifferent despite the fact that her remark had been correct.

"When will your brother be back?" The dark-haired women cocked a brow at your sudden change of topic.

"Any minute, I suppose, why?"

"He's more pleasant to have around while I try to work, less chatty", an incredulous snort left Shuri as she crossed her arms, leaning back against the couch's backside. Her reaction made your stoic facade drop somewhat, causing the side of your mouth to tug upwards. It was an act she caught and couldn't help but shake her head at.

"I never get tired of not knowing whether you're about to send half of the city after me or simply are in a playing mood", your repressed smile bloomed into a fully-fledged one, amused by Shuri's comment.

"Opt for the latter for as long as those couple of hundred thousand dollars are rolling into your account". Averting your eyes from the women you were speaking to, you once again inspected the bunch of papers before you. 

Having worked on them for days and ever since this morning re-reading the contract, you knew it was worded to perfection. There were no loopholes nor any unnecessary losses for either part. So, for as long as Steven didn't belong to the old saying of 'it’s hard to learn an old dog to sit', you knew his signature would decorate the last page. 

"However, you should worry about the day when the money is missing", you hummed while stacking the papers orderly, putting them back into the same folder they'd been stored since you'd gotten the paper copies of the transcript.

"Would that be my sign to start running?" You looked up again, instantly meeting Shuri's humoured look.

"It would probably be too late", you shrugged nonchalantly, placing the folder you would have to the meeting in your handbag in a swift motion while swivelling your chair to face her, rather than your desk as you'd done previously. As a chuckle was heard from the dark-haired woman, you crossed one leg over the other and leaned back in your seat.

"It's good that I'm your ally and not your foe".

"Good to hear you view yourself as a friend. Was fearing you would switch sides to my challenger's", you mused, arms coming to prop up against your armrest to support your head when you tilted it.

"I never would, even if I knew he had a chance to win", even though feeling somewhat relieved - because this world and one's alliances could change fast, no matter current contracts or friendships- when Shuri said this, you wouldn't show it. Therefore, instead of smiling at her belief that Steven had no chance of beating you at a game you had been the best player at for years, you simply kept observing the woman as she stood from the couch.

The young tech mogul started to make her way closer to you, a slight sheerness in her step that impersonated the glint in her eye. And you understood why for when she opened her mouth to speak.

"But you can't deny it's interesting someone is seriously trying to take you down", you rolled your eyes while you let your hand fall to tap against your thigh.

"Seems like you're more excited about it than me", you started, spinning your chair slowly to follow Shuri as she settled partly on the empty edge of your desk. She looked expectantly at you, waiting for an answer despite your deflection of it initially. For once, purely because of the topic, you complied. "But no, I definitely do not find it interesting", you sighed out.

"Oh, come on, Lekati...".

"Stop with the nickname", you cut her off with a roll of your eyes. However, instead of earning the quick nod of confirmation to follow your exasperated order, the dark-haired women grinned. Perhaps if it was anyone else than Shuri, you would've been irritated and sent them out of your office, but concerning you viewed her more as a friend than a simple job partner, you did neither when her teasing continued.

"Has the dog really gotten that much under your skin?" She chuckled. "Must be the first one... ever. Or correct me if I'm wrong?" You simply dropped your head and shook it. The young women were right and she knew she was. Steven was the sole one able to make you nearly lose your footing ever since claiming the crown of the underworld.

"Why couldn't he just stay put?" You mumbled under your breath, thumb smoothing out the wrinkles having settled between your brows. "We'd never heard of him before. Why decide to make himself known now all of a sudden? After years of silence?"

"Some men seek the satisfaction of bringing entities down, especially if they ruled it before and now it's overtaken by a woman", you looked up at Shuri. But instead of meeting her gaze, your eyes fell to the piece of paper she held up. Evidently, she'd plucked your Cartier pen and a sticky note from the stack always resting on your desk and written three letters on the piece of paper while you spoke. You, it stood on it.

"Thank you for the flattery", you replied, reaching forward to snatch the note from her. "But I would've prefered if Rogers hadn't, would spare me the task of crushing his ego", the brown-eyed women chuckled at that.

"Maybe he needs to take yours down a step or two too", you stood from your chair as she said this, dropping the slightly crumpled note you'd taken from her into the bin under your desk, then starting to head towards the mirror you had in your office.

"I don't have an ego. I simply know my self-worth".

"Sounds a lot like you're bordering on narcissism", she said in a sing-song voice. "Maybe you and his pride can go on a date. I bet they would rule New York happily ever after", you couldn't suppress a chuckle at Shuri's words, whether you wanted to show how absolutely hilariously unbelievable it was or not.

"Can't your brother come and save me from your antics?" You muttered, spotting the smile the genius behind you sported in the mirror. It was meant for her to hear, so you weren't shocked when she responded to the banter.

"I actually prefer his absence. The two of you together nearly drown me in the seriousness", Shuri complained dramatically. You amusedly rolled your eyes before settling to look at your chosen attire.

Compared to how far away you stood from tradition in the godfather's senses, it was one custom you fulfilled like the rest of them. You believed that the clothes made the man. And, for a meeting like the one you soon would go to, you didn't hesitate to strive for that effect.

You knew Steven was old fashioned. Everything he did cried it. So, of course, you would try to throw him off at every point you could. The skirt and dress were switched out for a suit, midnight black. It was a loose fit and probably matched the high-end fashion more than traditional meeting standards, but you didn't genuinely worry. You were here to show you are the new generation and wouldn't budge because you were the sole women in New York running a syndicate. Doing the best job at it as well.

However, if the man you would meet would frown upon women in a suit, the lace bodysuit, black as well, you wore instead of a dress shirt would probably give him a heart attack. It covered enough but were in no way domesticated and left the upper part of your chest bare. It was a great way to show off the two thin chains of gold decorating your neck.

For some reason, your eyes lingered on the golden metal shining from the light trickling into your office. You started to fiddle with the necklace then, concentrating on how they weren't cold but rather heated up from your body temperature.

You became lost in your own world, fingers splaying over the hollow in your throat to absentmindedly play with the chains there while you thought about the meeting that was rapidly coming closer.

The action, together with the far-away look you stared at your movement in the mirror, was something that caught Shuri's attention.

"Relax", instantly your eyes flickered up to watch her in the mirror's reflective surface as if snapped from a daze. She'd shifted, so she now sat on the front of your desk, head turned in your direction. "It'll go good".

"Wasn't it you who said that you didn't want me to meet him in the first place?" You began to challenge her words of reassurance, hand falling from your skin to instead hang by your side. Not until you'd turned and cocked your brow at her did you continue. "That must insinuate you don't think it will go good", she simply shrugged when you said this.

"I did say I don't like his sudden call for a conference and that you accepted it in the first place", she began, crossing her feet at the ankle and looking down at the movement momentarily before her gaze found yours once more. "But that doesn't mean I don't think it will go good. I know it will. You're good at your job", you smiled at that. You already knew that you worked great under pressure, or else you wouldn't be standing on top of the empire you ruled. Although, it was always comforting to hear it from someone else.

Fittingly, in the next second, a knock on your door echoed in the room, effectively putting an end to your previous conversation with the women perched on your desk.

"Enter", you called without hesitating, as soon as both your and Shuri's attention also turned to the entrance. The guard stationed outside of your room didn't need to inform you of who'd wanted to enter. You already knew it was T'Challa. And as the guard opened the heavy door to your office and held it open for whoever had requested it, indeed it was Shuri's brother stepping through the doorway.

You didn't more than slightly tip your head to acknowledge the guard's nod of respect your way before he closed the door. Primarily because you spotted the slate grey folder the older of the children of T'Chaka held. It was the call about the seemingly insignificant object being completed that had interrupted the earlier discussion you, Shuri and T'Challa had. Your assemblage hadn't been much more than some minor last discussions and to wait for the folder the man now walking through the room held. Thus the portfolio contained a report, the ultimate attempt of finding anything that could aid you in the meeting with Steven.

"Anything good?" You skipped the unnecessary greetings as you gestured to the portfolio in T'Challa's hand while walking closer to your desk, which also was where he was heading.

"Look for yourself", when he said this, the brown-eyed mad held out the folder for you to take. You did but didn't open it until you'd rounded the counter and sat down in your chair again.

You didn't know what you'd expected to meet you, but a photo and a single sheet of paper weren't it.

For a moment, you stared at the picture resting on top of the report underneath it. Presumably, it should've been a photo of Steven sitting in some club. Although it was blurry and had no great exposure, which made it impossible to tell much about his appearance. Still, you knew it was him or else the picture wouldn't be here. However, it did nothing to help you paint a picture of the man which name so far seemed to be faceless.

Putting the picture to the side, you quickly started to eye the document. You scanned it, finding it contained random facts citing what properties the Canine boss had invested in, even owned. Apparently, Steven managed several clubs, which would explain why his first suggestion of a meeting place had been just that. Other than that, he owned some other businesses that wasn't much to cheer for. All infected by alcohol and drugs by the looks and names. Classical.

"This all?" You finally questioned after turning the sheet over, finding the backside blank. When glancing up, you saw T'Challa nodding. You clenched your jaw and looked back down at the paper.

Ever since Steven had asked for an official meeting, between your eyes only, as his message had been clear to state, you'd requested for the siblings to find out whatever they could about him. You wanted the advantage you knew he couldn't get over you. Thus, what was publicly known of you wasn't anything to hide. And frankly, he was more than welcome to read the articles that had written things about you. Yet, every secret of yours, or anything you'd deemed unfitting for anyone to know, had been wiped. No one could ever find something about you that you didn't want on the internet. Though, it seemed you weren't the only one sitting on resources like that.

Albeit the "new mob boss" was discussed in several articles, Steven's name had no face in any of them. In general, there was no picture of him or much information to track him down by either. So, despite your best efforts, now it seemed you didn't have much more than your hunch to go on during the meeting.

"I do not think it's wise to meet him", T'Challa said, much like his sister had earlier. With a sigh, you leaned back in your chair, fingers releasing the paper you'd gripped to pinch the bridge of your nose instead.

"Neither of you wants me to meet him, do you?" At first, silence met you, which made you look up the sibling pair. They shared a glance before Shuri turned slightly to look at you and her brother crossed his arms.

"No", they said simultaneously, which made you huff.

"I may like it as little as you two, but it put a temporary pause to the conflict. And if he comes to accept my terms, maybe that will remain".

"And what if he doesn't?" T'Challa inquired, receiving a frown from his sister, while you simply tilted your head down to look at your watch. "What if he refuses to tuck tail?" He continued to push.

"He won't", you stated, rising up from your chair, handbag now in your grip. It was three minutes until your driver would be here, so you needed to start heading down to the spot he would pick you up in. Yet, you were stopped in your tracks by a hand gripping your upper arm lightly.

"But what if?"

"T'Challa!" Shuri hissed at the unrespectful way her brother insisted on having his questions answered. She'd shot up from where she up until now had remained seated but before she could drag the man staring down at you with insistent eyes away, your raised the hand of your free arm. It stopped the younger women's movement, merely making her watch you and T'Challa.

There was a reason the siblings were able to run their tech operation as smoothly as they did. They complemented each other. What one lacked, the other possessed. For example, Shuri may own the belief everything was possible, then naturally, her brother would be more cautious. As in this instance. Hence, you didn't take any great offence to the dark-haired man's action, despite that your aloof tone could imply such a thing.

"What if he doesn't accept my deal after having me listen to whatever godawful settlement he offers me? Then I've kept my promise on meeting him for the parley he requested and one, which in the end, unfortunately, didn't establish an accord. Henceforth, our war will continue", you said, instantly feeling how T'Challa's hand fell from holding you back. Yet, you didn't pursue your track to the pick up you already was late for. Not until you assured him of one last thing. 

"Let me remind you that he was the one that asked me for a meeting, not the other way around. He asked me for a temporary truce and a chance to negotiate. In the end, that shows who's the most desperate to settle an agreement, no matter the terms".

Translation:

Lekati = Kitten

[sammysdewysensitiveeyes]

Back again, with my opinions that no one asked for.  This time, it’s my takes on the animated versions of Pyro.

1. X-Men: The Animated Series Pyro

This, this is my boy right here.  Look at this dork with his terrible 70′s fluffy hair, hanging out at the bar with his not-so-hetero life-partner Avalanche.  This was my first introduction to the character (in fact, the cartoon was my first introduction to X-Men in general, and sent me down the path of reading comics). 

This version of Pyro is an established career criminal and professional lackey, usually working for Mystique but not above a bit of robbery or kidnapping on the side if he’s bored.  He and Avalanche are presented as buddies who have probably been working together for awhile.  They first show up in the episode “The Cure,” hanging out on Muir Island waiting for Mystique to give  them orders, then completely screwing up Mystique’s plans when they decide to kidnap the scientist Dr. Adler for extra cash . Apparently Mystique can’t leave them to their own devices for even a day.  

Pyro also hilariously tries to flirt with Rogue by setting a chair on fire and making a bad pun.  It goes about as well as you’d expect:

Get your hands off of her, Pyro, she is too good for you.  (The best part about this is, I don’t think he even used his powers here?  He just tried to impress Rogue as “guy with a flamethrower,” rather than “fire-controlling mutant.”  No wonder she throws his dumb ass through the wall.)

Pyro and Avalanche both show up again later, alongside Blob, creating a distraction so that Mystique can try to assassinate Senator Kelly in the animated series version of the Days of Future Past storyline.  In a much later episode, the same trio cause trouble again to lure the X-Men out so that Mystique can try to win Rogue back to their side.  That episode feels out of continuity to the rest of the series, since a flashback shows Rogue previously working with the Brotherhood (alongside Pyro and Avalanche), but none of them recognize each other when they “first meet” in “The Cure.”  I can assume that maybe Rogue lost her memories in the trauma of absorbing Ms. Marvel, but I don’t know what Pyro and Avalanche’s excuse is.  Frequent head injuries?  Maybe they’re both just really dumb? 

I am fond of TAS Pyro, and he’s probably the closest to comics Pyro out of the animated adaptations, despite being portrayed as British rather than Australian.  He looks fairly similar to his comics counterpart, and fulfills the same role of being a hired pain-in-the-ass that annoys the X-Men, mostly for money, as well as being Avalanche’s BFF.  He’s also clearly a full-grown, experienced adult who’s probably somewhere in his thirties at least, which is about the age I estimate for comics Pyro.  He’s kinda dumb, but practical.  He just wants to commit crimes with Avalanche, get paid, and run away before the X-Men can beat him up.  That’s a reasonable dream, right? 

X-Men Evolution Pyro:

Well, at least the guy loves his work.  I give him an “A” for enthusiasm.

I have mixed feelings about this Pyro.  He’s a lot of fun, but not really the Pyro I know and love from the comics.  This Pyro is one of Magneto’s Acolytes rather than a member of the Brotherhood, working alongside Gambit, Colossus and Sabretooth.  He really, REALLY enjoys setting things on fire, and doesn’t seem to care who gets hurt in the process.  Or rather, he seems to also enjoy people getting hurt, and tends to laugh maniacally while torching things, to the point of seeming really unbalanced.  I can’t tell if he’s completely detached from reality and is viewing things like a video game, without a real understanding of consequences, or if he knows exactly what he’s doing, and just likes to hurt people.  Either way, Evo Pyro seems much less stable than comic book Pyro, who can also be pretty wild and over-the-top in his fights and probably enjoys fire a little too much, but still acts an an overall rational person. 

Meanwhile, Evo Pyro repeatedly watches a video of Magneto seeming to die and laughs hysterically at it:

He is delighted when Wolverine shows up looking for a fight (because he was “bored out of his skull,”), and seems disappointed when Wolverine leaves abruptly afterwards.  It’s interesting that, after Magneto’s apparent death (not really) in Evolution, the other Acolytes all go off on their own, but Pyro hangs out alone in their base, as if he doesn’t really have a life to go back to, or any real identity outside of being “Pyro.”  When the series ends, he is shown in the future as having joined the Brotherhood (with Toad, Scarlet Witch, Quicksilver, Blob and Avalanche), apparently working for SHIELD in some kind of Freedom Force style team.  I’d like to imagine that he’s super cheerful and friendly when he first joins up, and they are all a little bit terrified of him. 

The character design is different, but looks pretty good for a re-imagining of the character.  They’ve remembered the most important aspects of Pryo, namely “scrawny,” “fire colors,” and “crazy blond hair all over the place.”  He also seems to be actually Australian, judging by him using the term “down under” at one point.  In fitting with the “teen X-Men” theme of Evolution, this Pyro looks very young.  If the Brotherhood are all in high school, Pyro looks like he’s college age, like a couple of years older at most.

Like I said, Evo Pyro is fun, and surprisingly popular (I find a lot of Evo Pyro fan-stuff when I’m looking for comics Pyro), but it kinda feels like he got shafted, story-wise.  In both this series and Wolverine and the X-Men, cartoons where the Brotherhood got a bigger role and more development, Pyro didn’t make the cut as a Brotherhood member and wound up in a minor role as an Acolyte.  He feels kind of under-developed, and is mostly there to either be menacing or comic relief. 

Wait a minute....menacing....comic-relief....under-developed.......laughs hysterically at violence......

Maybe Duggan has actually been writing Evolution Pyro in Marauders this whole time?

I don’t want to take anything away from fans of Evo Pyro, but I kinda wonder what we could have gotten if he’d been a Bayville high school student and part of the more sympathetic teen Brotherhood.  Would he have a better developed character?  Would they have made him an annoying twerp like Toad (I say that with great affection, Toad is probably my favorite Evo character) or a smug secretly-insecure hot-shot like Quicksilver?  Or anger issues like Evo Avalanche?  Would they let him keep his original name and nationality, or would he be an American teen with a cutesy on-the-nose name like Ash Embers or Flameo Hotman?    We’ll never know!

Wolverine and the X-Men Pyro:

Again an Acolyte rather than a Brotherhood member, this Pyro has even less development than Evo Pyro.  He shows up in the first episode being rescued from the Mutant Response Division (along with Boom Boom, Dust, and others).  In that scene, he’s clearly meant to be Australian (saying “mate,”), and appears to be on friendly terms with Boom Boom and Dust.  Later on Genosha, he seems to be one of Magneto’s guards/lackeys, and doesn’t appear to mind Dust being thrown in prison.  He’s either a true believer, or is mercenary and practical-minded like comics Pyro, and has decided that following Magneto is his best chance for survival,  Pyro does apologize to Nightcrawler and offer a quick “Nothing personal,” when Magneto sends the Acolytes after him, so maybe he doesn’t revel in his work the same way Evo Pyro does.  The only other notable thing he does is get in trouble for telling Lorna news about Wanda going missing (Magneto is pissed enough to throw him into a cell for that), so I assume that this Pyro is also a massive gossip.  It’s the best I can do with what very little we get of him.  The X-Men don’t seem to have any issue with Pyro (or even recognize him) when they first rescue him, so I’m guessing that he didn’t have any criminal history before joining Magneto in Genosha?  Unlike TAS series Pyro, who’s overall attitude is, “Be gay, do crimes!  And by crimes, I mean arson and kidnapping!” 

I’m not fond of this design.  It’s a nice updated look, and really more stylish than what he’s worn in the comics, but the hair is too douche-bag frat-boy for me, and I can’t get past the little soul-patch on his chin.  Shave that nonsense, Pyro, you can’t pull off facial hair.  He looks older than Evo Pyro but younger than comics Pyro - maybe mid-to-late 20′s? 

This Pyro is sadly kinda forgettable.  I’m not sure why Pyro got largely skipped over as a Brotherhood member in later X-Men cartoons, but the fact that the character was long dead in the comics by the time the cartoons aired probably had something to do with it.  Kinda sad that they wasted the potential they could have gotten out of teen Bobby vs. teen Pyro in Evolution, though. 

(Come to think of it, Gambit got similarly shafted in Evolution and Wolverine and the X-Men, since they pushed him into a minor recurring side-character role.  At least in the original X-Men TAS, Gambit actually got to be an X-Man and main character.)  

Obviously, TAS Pyro is my favorite out of these, but I don’t want to step on anyone’s toes.  Nothing wrong with being a fan of Evo Pyro or even the barely there WatXM Pyro, they’re all good!

[hoboal87]

Elastic Heart Chapter One

Elastic Heart Chapter One

Characters: Y/N Y/L/N, Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, John Winchester, OFCs

Pairing(s): None

Summary: Y/N Y/L/N sees a familiar set of eyes in the crowd, and remembers the first time she saw them and how they changed her life.

Word Count: 4300+

Warnings: Show level violence, cursing, pre-Stanford era Winchesters

Notes: Series will be mostly canon compliant, taking place during season 8/9. Also, for purposes of this fic Sam was born in '84 instead of '83.

Please give a comment or reblog and let me know what you think!

Elastic Heart Masterlist

Chapter One - Senior Year

“Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N”

I don’t hear my name being called, I’m in my own world, looking out into the crowd for a set of familiar eyes. I spot them three rows back and smile. It’s been too long since I’ve seen them, and I miss the days where I would see those eyes nearly every day.

Life as a nursing student consists of going to class, lab work, interning at a hospital, and occasionally sleeping. I’ve spent the past two years doing nothing but that. I’ve always been one to do things early, but this was the one thing that, for once, I was on par with my peers. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. From the first time I saw those eyes, they altered my life, sending me down a path that I never planned to be on. Taking longer than we had thought, but eventually, I got back on track.

Finish school and get my fresh start. That had been my goal for the past two years. Move on, with or without those eyes in my life. I wanted them, but I knew that logically, it couldn’t happen. Our lives were too different, especially now. I lost my chance of having them with me always; now, I could only cherish the holidays and long weekends that allowed us to be together.

“Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N,” the announcer’s voice contains a bit of urgency this time, drawing my attention. I step across the stage, shaking my supervisor’s hand, and receive my metaphorical diploma. I look back out into the audience and connect with those eyes again, wide and filled with joy. I take my seat and think back to the first time I saw them and how they changed my life forever.

Fall, 2002

This was it, the first day of my senior year. This is the year I will prove to everyone that I am no longer a kid. This is the year, mom and dad will see that I can act like an adult and make ‘good choices’ but, I’m determined to have just a little fun.

For the last two years, mom and dad have insisted that I take extra courses and go to summer school to ensure I graduate not only with good grades but early. I’ll graduate in the spring and be off to college in the fall. All I really want is to wait, take a year or two, experience life outside of my parents’ house.

I make the point to do as many high school activities as I can. Activities that they discouraged me from doing for the last two years; choir, volleyball, anything that will get me out of the house but still considered a school activity. I joined the decorating committee, wanting to participate in homecoming as much as possible. I know as long as I do nothing life-altering, I’m gonna be free in May.

“Be mindful of your grades, Y/N,” dad said, reading over all the consent forms, “if they slip, you will need to cut these extracurricular activities.”

“They won’t slip, dad.” I roll my eyes. “It’s my last year, let me have a bit of fun, please?”

“Your average drops below an A, and I’m pulling you out of each one of these clubs, understood?”

“Yes, sir.” I mull over telling him the other part of my plan. “I was… thinking about getting a job.” I look down, not wanting to make eye contact. “Something part-time?”

“I don’t think that’s the best idea, Y/N,” mom enters the room, “You’re going to be so busy already, tell her Rob.”

“Your mother has a point, and if they accept you to all these clubs, when will you even have time?”

“I may not even end up in the choir or the volleyball team,” I argue, “and if I don’t I’ll have a free period every day, I can talk to the counselor about making it my last class and—it’s my Senior Year, please, don’t you guys think I deserve a little more credit than this? I should get to experience a little bit of independence, don’t you think? I’m gonna be away at college in a year, I’m probably gonna have some on-campus job, I need to learn how to balance between the two.” I catch my breath, hoping that they will agree.

“Fine,” dad sighs heavily, “the same deal goes. Your grades slip, no more working. Am I making myself clear?”

“Yes!” I throw my arms around him, “Thank you!”

“Maybe you could get a job at the clinic,” mom chimes in, “get some experience in the field?”

“I don’t think anyone wants a sixteen-year-old working at the clinic, Sarah. Maybe at the drugstore, though?”

“Yeah,” I sit on the couch, “maybe.”

I discreetly start looking at apartments that could be for rent after graduation. I look on the outskirts of town and find a garage apartment that a very sweet older lady agrees to rent to me if it is still unoccupied over the summer. Finding a job gets put on the back burner as the school year moves into full swing. It turns out I can’t sing, and I suck at volleyball, but the coach offers me the position of manager, allowing me to still participate with the team at pep rallies and travel with them on away games. As the season comes to a close, and with Thanksgiving break around the corner, I decide it’s time to actively look for a job.

The trouble is finding someone willing to hire a 16-year-old high school student with no experience. I try some local retail stores, but I know that mom and dad will never go for the hours they want me to work. I walk into Joe’s Burgers, my favorite place to get some dinner and continue looking through the classifieds.

“Hey, Y/N/N,” I look over and wave to the man behind the counter.

“Hey, Dan, can I get a Bacon—"

“Your usual?” he cuts me off, smiling.

“Yes, please,” I look down sheepishly, handing him the exact amount of money without being told the total.

“Whatcha got there?” he nods towards the paper that’s now on the counter as he hands me my receipt.

“Oh, I’m just looking for a job,” I tuck the paper under my arms. “Need to earn some money so I can get outta this town after graduation.”

“What’s wrong with the town,” his face grows serious, “I’ve lived here my whole life.”

“Shit—I mean, n-nothing. Fuck."

“Y/N/N!” Dan bursts into laughter, “I’m just messing with you! You think you’re the first person who hates living here? We’re a small-ass town in the middle of nowhere.”

“You’re such a jerk,” I say, relieved, “I’ll be in my spot, okay?” He tries to contain his laughter as I walk away, making my way to my usual table. I flip through the pages, seeing nothing that would really work for me.

“You know Joe has been talking about hiring another cashier,” Dan says, bringing my food over, “and you’re practically here all the time anyway, you may as well make some money while you’re at it. You want me to talk to him?”

“Really? Do you think he’d hire me? I can’t stay late on week-nights because of school, mom and dad would kill me.”

“Yeah, we need someone to work the register, Jana can’t do it all herself. Whaddya think?”

“Oh, my god Dan, that would be amazing!” I get up and throw my arms around him to give him a hug. I watch as Dan walks to the back of the restaurant, after a few minutes he returns, giving me the thumbs-up. Before I leave, he gives me paperwork to fill out and a uniform, telling me to return the next day for training.

For three days, I train, working with Jana on the register. She is a few years older than me, with absolutely no filter. She always has me hunched over, laughing at something she has said or done. The lunches are busier than usual with the break. On Friday, she decides it’s time to leave me on my own, ‘best way to learn,’ she quips.

I’ve never been a social butterfly, and the thought of having to deal with customers on my own genuinely terrifies me for a few moments. After giving myself a small pep talk, I turn around to see three large men waiting for me.

The shortest of the three looks at me, and leans over the counter, “I’m here, what are your other two wishes?” he asks, flashing me a wink.

“I’m sorry?” I can’t believe this guy is serious.

“My brother and I were wondering,” he gestures to the tallest of the three, “if it hurt when you fell from heaven?”

“W-what?” I feel the heat pooling in my cheeks.

“Dean, knock it off, we’re here to work.” the older man behind him smacks him upside his head, and I have to stifle my laughter. He offers a sympathetic smile toward me.

“Did your mother drop you on your head when you were a baby?” I shot back; it was the only thing I could think of, albeit an awful comeback.

“It’s okay, just blink if you want me,” I stare straight into those green eyes for a solid 10 seconds before turning away.

“Dean, leave the girl alone, how old are you doll?” he asks, turning to me.

“Sixteen,” I say, watching as he rolls his eyes at the other two.

“See, are you trying to go to jail, son?” he says, looking at me apologetically “I’m sorry my sons are two walking hormones.”

“I didn’t even say anything!” the tall one huffs. Green-eyes shrugs and rubs the back of his head.

“Don’t even Sam, I heard you when we walked in.” Their dad grabs them by the shirts and drags them both to stand in front of me. I couldn’t believe my eyes, this man grabbing his two grown sons like they were pre-teens, “Now apologize to…” he looks at my name tag, “… Y/N.”

“Sorry, sweetheart, didn’t mean to offend you,” Green-eyes says insincerely.

“That’s fine, it’s part of the job, learning to deal with frat boys who love to mess with townies,” I smile back curtly.

“What the fu—” green-eyes is clearly trying to contain his anger, but his dad chuckles at the remark, and his brother can hardly control himself.

“Yeah, frat boy, don’t mess with the townie,” the younger one laughs, pushing his shaggy brown hair away from his face, revealing gleaming hazel eyes flecked with hints of green and blue surrounded by dark full lashes.

“Listen, Y/N,” green-eyes looks at my name tag again, “we ain’t no frat boys, in fact, we’re here becau—”

“All right, Dean, that’s enough.” His dad gives him a stern look that is clearly a silent conversation. “Since we’re off to such a wonderful start, let’s start over, yeah?”

I nod politely. These guys are clearly passing through and will be gone in a matter of hours or days, but Joe wants us to make all people, even the ones we’ll probably never see again, feel welcome.

“I’m John, you already know Dean,” he reaches his hand out towards the tall one, “and this is Sam. We’re actually looking into the recent animal-related deaths,” he says, producing a Fish and Wildlife Badge. I study it for a moment before handing it back. “We’re interviewing some of the local business owners and residents in the area of the attacks. Have you heard or seen anything usual, smelled anything weird, anything that comes to mind?”

“Oh.” I look at the three men; here I was being a bitch to the people trying to help. “Um, I just started working here a few days ago, animal attacks?” I look back up to John, who nods. “The only animals around here are coyotes, but even they’re pretty rare. I haven’t heard anything, but I keep to myself. Joe might know something, he’s the owner and knows everything about everyone.” I offer a smile.

“Is Joe in today?” John asks. His grey eyes hold so much pain as he looks at me.

“Um… yeah. He may have a few minutes now that we’ve slowed down. I can see if he can come talk to you?”

“That’d be great, thanks, Y/N.”

“Please, Y/N/N,” I say, blushing, covering my nametag, “No one really calls me Y/N.”

“Y/N/N,” he repeats, “I’d really like to speak with Joe if it’s not a problem.”

“Yeah, shit. Let me go get him,” I say, walking towards the back. “Hey Jana, I’m gonna go get Joe. Watch the register?”

“I got it,” she hollers back.

“Dude! She’s 16!” I hear who I assume is Sam whispering loudly. “Shut up! How was I supposed to know that?!”

“Dean, she’s obviously not 18. Stick to girls your own age,” John responds. “Sammy—.”

I can no longer hear the men as I reach the door to Joe’s office. Jana and Dan had both told me that his door usually stayed open, today it was not only closed, but it was locked as well. I knock, waiting for him to answer. He looks a little frazzled when he opens the door, but smiles at me, “Hey, Y/N/N, what’s up?”

“There’s a guy from Fish and Wildlife; he’s looking into the recent animal attacks? He’s asking about strange occurrences or something? I don’t know, but I know you pay attention to that kind of stuff, so he wants to talk to you.”

“I—shit, yeah, let him know I’ll be out in a few minutes,” he straightens his shirt and closes the door behind him.

I nod and head back to the front of the building. I watch as the boys and their father seem to be in deep discussion. Turning away when I realize Dean has caught me staring. I gather their food, and as I walk towards their table, I can hear that for some reason, I am the current topic of discussion, specifically, my age.

“Actually, I’ll be 17 in a month,” I quip, dropping their food, unsure of why I am engaging with this odd group of men.

“Huh?” Dean looks at me curiously.

“Well, for some reason the two of you are overly concerned with my age, I’ll be 17 next month.”

“Still illegal, Dean,” Sam smirks.

“Yeah, but right up your alley, Sammy,” Dean winks at him.

“Boys, stop treating this girl like she’s a piece of meat,” their father doesn’t even look up from his plate.

I can’t help myself, I’m usually not this brazen, but something about these outsiders coming in, I have to say it, “Well, here in the Great State of Texas the age of consent is 17, it’s not technically illegal,” and before I can stop myself I wink at Dean.

“Oh, Y/N, you are killing me here,” he says, bringing his hand to his chest. “Unfortunately, I’m gonna have to pass, but Sammy here,” Dean grabs Sam by the shoulders, “may be able to help you out.”

Sam blushes furiously; it’s actually adorable. I can feel the heat coming up in my own cheeks, and know if I stay any longer, they will see it very clearly.

“Joe’ll be out in a few minutes,” I say, turning to go back to the register. I walk away, adding a little sway in my hips as I know the younger men are watching. “Lemme know if there’s anything else I can get you,” I shoot another wink, this time in Sam’s direction.

“Thanks, Y/N/N.” John’s baritone voice carries through the restaurant.

I watch Joe take a seat with the three men, the younger boys listening and observing their father very carefully. I watch John grab something—a fork?— out of his pocket and discreetly place it in front of Joe. Why would he do such a thing? Joe and the men continue to speak for 10 minutes until the dinner rush starts, and Joe excuses himself.

The three men finish their burgers and leave the restaurant; concern etched on their faces as they have a heated conversation.

Throughout the dinner rush, I notice that Sam is stationed outside of the building. It looks as though he’s watching somebody. But every time I look up, his position has changed. After it grows dark, I can no longer see him outside; I realize I shouldn’t let him occupy my mind. Jana and I work furiously until a few hours later when we finally close.

“First day on your own,” Jana says, letting her hair down and hopping onto the counter. “You did good Y/N/N, only a couple mistakes.”

“Thanks, it’s not always gonna be like that, right?” I say, sighing, mimicking her actions with my own hair.

“Nah, I mean, the Friday and Saturdays will be, but unless it’s a school break, the nights are not usually too crazy,” she reassures me.

“Thank God,” I laugh, “what about the customers? Did you see those guys earlier? The ones talking to Joe?” I ask, hoping that she doesn’t pick up on the fact that I am blushing at the mention of the men.

“Oh, you mean the green-eyed one who was clearly hitting on you?” She smirks at me, “With the older guy and the really tall guy?”

“Yeah… you have an excellent memory…” I laugh, “he was so cheesy. ‘Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?’” I mock him. “I mean, he can’t think girls really fall for that? Even the tall one knew it was a bad line.” I blushed a little, thinking about them.

“Oh my god, you like him, green-eyes.” She gasps, “You wanna jump his bones,” she sang mockingly at me, “you love him!”

“Shut up,” I threw my apron at her playfully, “I do not want to jump his bones. Besides, I’m jailbait. He’s at least 21 or so.” Jana raises her eyebrow at me. “He basically told me he couldn’t.”

“So… you’re saying you would if he was younger?” she giggles.

“Jana! No! He’s not my type. He’s way too cocky—he probably thinks he’s God’s Gift to Women,” I mock him again.

“What about the tall one? He was gorgeous,” she offers, “And the dad? He’s hot, like I will so call him Daddy. Let him just—."

“That’s way too much information, Jana. Anyway, if green-eyes is too old, how on earth is the dad not even more wrong?”

“That’s what makes it so hot… like, the wrongness of it…” she says mock fanning herself. “Okay, so clearly, the giant is the one you’re gonna have to do. You can just climb on top—" she says, moving her whole body onto the counter, “and take him for a ride.”

“Jesus, Jana.” I try to suppress my embarrassed laughter. But I blush furiously at the thought of Sam, especially with the image that Jana just planted in my head. I cover my face with my hands as I try to compose myself.

“Oh my god, you are so red!” Jana laughs, “It’s the giant! He’s the one you lo-ove!”

“I don’t even know him! They’re just passing through. You know the type, no one actually moves here. Not for real, at least. They’ll be gone in a week.”

“Y/N/N, that’s why it’s perfect. Hook up, get all that pent-up frustration out of your system, and then you’ll go your separate ways,” she offers. “Wham-bam-thank you-ma’am.”

“I’m really not into that one-night stand stuff,” I say, “I mean, what’s the point?”

“Come on, Y/N/N, that’s the point. Sometimes you just need a release. It’s not like you’re gonna fall in love with some guy you just met and hook-up with once. I mean, you’ve hooked up with guys before, right?”

I shrug my shoulders.

“Oh, my God. Y/N/N, you’re not a virgin, are you?” she whispers so that Dan and Joe won’t hear. I nod, I didn’t have a problem with my own virginity, but other people did. I know I have plenty of time. And with how busy mom and dad keep me, I have no time for boys. “Oh, okay, there’s nothing wrong with that.”

“I know. Besides, mom and dad don’t even like the thought of me dating; they’d make the guy ask for permission. It’s not that I would ever have time for it anyway. Either way, it’ll happen whenever it happens, and it will probably not be great the first time,” I laugh, trying to break the serious look on Jana’s face. “I have very low expectations, especially if he’s never done anything either. Most boys my age don’t know what they’re doing anyway.”

“Not to be all romantic or whatever, but you know it doesn’t have to be like that. Your first time doesn’t have to suck. It can be really nice if you get the right person.”

“I figure it will either be awesome or okay,” I laugh, “hope it’s awesome, but it’s not that big of a deal.”

“Okay, I’m gonna have one more mom moment with you, and then we can leave, okay?” she grows slightly serious, and I nod my head. “Bring condoms.” I choke out a laugh. “I’m serious. Don’t count on the guy to do it. And don’t trust the ‘pull-out’ method. Dudes always think they can time it right, and half the time…” she makes a gesture I don’t quite understand, I look at her confused. “Inside. Or at least not all the way out. And I’m sure getting pregnant isn’t a part of your grand plan.” She smiles softly. “If you ever need someone to talk about this stuff with, you can come to me, okay?”

“Thank you, if and when the day ever comes, I’ll be sure to tell you.” She raises her eyebrow. “I swear. Don’t count on it being anytime soon, though.”

Jana finishes counting the tips, and I count the register. We grab our bags, say goodbye to Dan, who’s still closing down, and Joe, who’s in the office looking at receipts.

Jana and I live about a block away from each other, and close enough to the restaurant that neither of us bothered driving. Every week it’s getting colder, and I know by the first week of December it will be too cold to walk home at night. But until then, Jana and I walk together, her house off of the main road that leads to mine.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to walk you all the way home?” Jana asks as we reach her street.

“Don’t be ridiculous. Then you’ll have to walk back by yourself.”

“Yeah, but I’m prepared.” She pulls mace and a small knife that’s attached to her keychain out. “If someone or something tries to get me, stab stab.”

“Jesus, Jana,” I laugh out of shock. “No, I’ll be fine, how about tomorrow before work I get me one of those and then I’ll be prepared as well.”

“Fine, but call me when you get home,” she jots a number down and waves goodbye, “I’m serious Y/N/N, call me. If you don’t, I will call your parents.”

“I will,” I yell, turning back to head home.

I feel that I’m being followed. Paranoid, I know. I swear I can hear footsteps behind me, but every time I turn around, there’s nothing there. Freaking Jana, this is her fault. I’ve never had issues walking home at night before, but now I’m hearing things that I probably wouldn’t have noticed if she hadn’t put “I’m prepared,” in my head, now feeling like a taunt. I’m less than 5 minutes away from my house; what could possibly happen?

I hear a growling, something inhuman; it grows louder as I try to will myself to move faster. I turn the corner, and that’s when it happens, someone, something, jumps out of nowhere and starts running towards me. I try to run, but my legs won’t move, “fuck.”

I hear yelling, but I still can’t move, the creature is getting closer to me, and I get a good look at it. Claws, it has fucking claws. Its eyes are yellow, and its teeth are huge. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say it was a werewolf. But werewolves don’t exist. This must be the creature that John was looking for.

‘It’s some kind of rare species of bear,’ I tell myself, ‘a bear.’

It’s only about a foot away from me; it looks like something out of a horror movie. It’s on its hind legs, unnatural noises leave its body, and before I can even move, it's swiping at me. All I can do is close my eyes and pray it doesn't kill me. A loud bang forces my eyes open, I stand there, still unable to move. I look up to see a set of familiar eyes before me, ones I hadn’t expected to see ever again. Sam.

Chapter 2

[justsassysworld]

Five Demons And A Baby Part 4

Five Demons And A Baby Part 4

Zhuk x Fem!reader

Warnings: Nsfw, Nsft, oral sex, vaginal sex, erotic massage

Waking the next morning, you find yourself equal parts nervous and excited. Today could very easily be a huge turning point in your life. You try closing your eyes for a few more moments of peace, when they fly back open. What the hell am I going to wear? What should you wear? Panic sets in as you try to plan with no idea what to plan for.

You bolt up, rushing to the lush closet holding your clothes. Your eyes flit from piece to piece, never settling on any one thing. Just as you start to hyperventilate two very strong, very large arms wrap around your waist.

"Breathe, svezda moya," the tall Russian growls into your ear. "There is no need for such worry."

You fold your arms over his, taking comfort in his embrace. Turning, you smile up at him, really taking in his handsome face, his strong, stubbled jaw, thick brows, full lips. The way his dark hair lightens at his temples, how the green blends as it curls at his collar, it really makes you happy you sent that letter.

Not letting yourself stop to over analyze, you slowly move your arms up his defined arms to wrap around his neck, once there you apply some pressure. His smirk lets you know that he knows exactly what you're doing, and he slowly starts to bend his head, as you rise onto your tiptoes. Never in your life have you felt as delicate and petite as you do in this mans arms.

When your lips are a hairs breath from his, you both pause, seeming to seek the others approval. Looking deep into his eyes, you see a hunger and a passion that must surely match our own. Wanting, no needing, to taste his emotions, you surges through those last few centimeters.

Your lips crash into his, your longings clear in your furiousity, a fever that doesn't go unmatched. He crushes you to him as his lips begin their languid and thorough exploration. Almost immediately, you notice how different this kiss is making you feel. Where Scarabee's kiss is a hundred shot firework lighting up the night sky, this is molten magma, flowing deep and true, changing you in ways you can't possibly notice until the passion cools.

He cradles you as he starts to pull you back to the bed. Lost to the moment, you don't care about the date or the wooing, you just want this man. This man whose hands haven't strayed from your waist, but still seem to caress your very soul.

Zhuk stops moving, making you think you've reached the bed and prepare to be dragged down and ravished. That's not what happens though. He slowly pulls up, not wanting to put any more distance between you than is necessary, his forehead against yours.

"Oh, zaika moya," he groans. "You will be the death of us."

He steps away, straightening his sweater, making you realize just how firmly you had gripped it. You both struggle to catch your breath, though he does compose himself a little bit faster. Moving back towards the door, he reaches it and turns. "For this morning, wear something light and comfortable,” he says before leaving the room.

"Something light and comfortable," you mumble to yourself, inspecting your closet. Finally, you decide to just wear your favorite warm weather outfit.

You take a quick but decadent shower vowing to really enjoy the grandiose space at another time. Debating on if you should wear any makeup, and what to do with your hair, you throw on your clothes. Looking in the mirror, you finally decide to throw your hair up and to just wear a light gloss on your lips. Shoes are a much easier decision to make, since you decide to just pull on your favorite sneakers. Giving yourself a final look over, you nod, liking your final look.

No longer hesitating, you throw the door open and find a very sexy Russian waiting for you. He looks you over, dragging his gaze over your body. You feel every inch of that gaze and answer his pleased smile with one of your own. You take his offered arm.

"Ready, svezda moya?"

Biting your lip, you nod and answer, "Yes." The smile he gives you in return is truly magnificent.

He leads you down several new halls and corridors, pointing out rooms along the way, but you don't even try to remember them, far too excited to even try. After many twists and turns, he finally moves to open a door. Walking in, you stutter to a stop.

You may not know that much about cars, but you can tell just how over the top the collection before you is. There are cars in every shape, size, and color. Some look brand new, others are timeless classics, and all are absolutely pristine. Well, all but the very familiar one at the end.

"Is-is that my car?" you ask, glancing up at him. A smirk is his answer. "What the-"

He pulls you in for a quick kiss before leading you to a luxury sedan. Opening your door, he helps you into your seat. The seats are incredibly soft and so much more comfortable than you could have imagined. While he walks around and takes his place in the drivers seat, you take it all in, the sights, feels, and the smells.

The engine purrs as Zhuk fires it up. With one hand, he steers out of the garage, as the other grips one of yours. There is a comfortable silence in the cab and you watch him while the world blurs by outside. For all his apparent strength and external gruffness, you watch his face soften and relax as you get closer to where ever you're going. All while you enjoy the peace and the warmth of his hand.

He pulls to a stop in a nondescript part of town and you feel your brows pull down in confusion. Before you can question where you are, he pulls out a thin piece of what looks like silk.

"Do you trust me, zaika?"

Deciding that honesty is your best policy, you reply, "I'm not sure yet."

A sharp grin is his answer. "Good, I will always reward the truth." You reward is another toe curling kiss.

"Wow," you whisper.

"Oh, svezda moya," he chuckles against your lip. "I know trust must be built, so I am asking you to let me do this. I promise, I mean you no harm, I just want to surprise you."

Nodding slightly, you turn your body and he slips the silken material over your eyes. His hands slip down to your shoulders. Teeth nip at the sensitive skin there and you let out a shocked moan.

"How-how long until we get there?" you stutter out, hoping it won't be long.

"Not long," he chuckles.

Thankfully, he's telling the truth. In less than five minutes, you feel the car pulling to a stop.

"Wait here," he orders before you hear him climb from the car. Less than a minute later, you hear the latch release and feel a slight breeze. A hand drags across your chest, pausing over your tits before he reaches down and unbuckles you.

Taking both of your hands, Zhuk pulls you from your seat. With one hand holding yours, the other resting just above your ass, he guides you, helping you over and around unseen obstacles. Finally, he pulls you to a stop.

Pulling your body flush against his hard one, he murmurs, "Are you ready?"

Nodding, you whisper back, "Yes." One arm wrapping around your waist, the other reaching up to your blindfold.

The bright sunlight momentarily blinds you. Blinking, you wait less than patiently for your eyes to adjust. Taking a moment, when they finally focus, you turn up your face to the man standing behind you in confusion. The only thing before you is a fairly unassuming building with tall fences snaking from it.

You open your mouth, but he cuts you off, "You'll see." Pressure at your lower back has you moving up to the door. Instead of knocking, he simply opens the door and ushers you inside.

A surprised squeal catches in your throat.

The whole room is filled with people holding, feeding, swaddling, and just looking at a variety of baby animals. Some are fuzzy, some are scaly, and others are covered in down, but they all have one very important thing in common; they all are so fucking cute.

A very kind looking woman with a huge grin approaches you both, her hand outstretched to take Zhuk's. "Mr. Sloggoth? It's such a pleasure to meet you."

"Mrs. Abbernath," he returns with a nod. "The pleasure is mine. Allow me to introduce my companion." He does and then asks, "Might we start the tour?"

Hours later, you lean your head back against the car's headrest, a huge grin stretching your lips. You'd seen, and even held and fed, so many unique and amazing animals. Apparently, Zhuk is a huge supporter of animals. So huge in fact, he set up multiple foundations that are geared to help them, including the one he took you to. The whole purpose of this one being rescuing "exotic pets" from, and you quote, "Entitled asshole with more money than empathy for living things.”

There were several snakes, none a species you recognize, a hand full of young penguins, and even a baby emu and flamingo, but the ones you were really drawn to were the mammals. You saw everything from tiny, adult hedgehogs, some slightly bigger adult fennec foxes, a fairly young wolf with wolf-dog pups, and a hand full of various big cat cubs, a couple of bear cubs, and even a full grown male lion.

"Fair enough," he grunts, taking your hand and steering you out of the parking lot, in the opposite direction from where you came. You give him a suspicious look, but he just keeps his eyes on the road and tracing circles in the back of a your hand with his thumb. Hearing you open your mouth to draw in breath, he says, "No. It is a surprise," in a tone that invites no questions.

Zhuk glances your way when you snort in derision. Before he can say anything, you ask, "What kind of jackass names a male lion Nala? And don't say someone who's thumbing their nose at gender norms. Anyone who's conscientious enough to think like that isn't going to have a lion for a pet in the first place, and anyone dumb enough to buy one, is dumb enough to not at least google "Lion King" before naming them."

Pouting, you flop back in your chair, but you refuse to let go of his hand.

You try to focus on the world passing by your window, but between the excitement of the morning and the exhaustion of growing another person, you find your eyes growing heavy. You try to fight it, but the smooth ride has you dozing, a deep voice humming sees you sinking deeper.

Feeling arms wrap around you and slowly lift you from the car, you slowly wake, blinking against the light. The first thing you see is a huge, opulent room, the likes of which you've never seen in person, but had always hoped to experience when you'd saved up enough money. This is the most expensive luxury hotel in the area, and Zhuk is casually strolling through, with you in his arms, acting like he owns the place. You wiggle, trying to get him to put you down, an action that's become a bit too familiar, but he simply gives you a warm smile and keeps moving.

Instead of stopping at the reception, he breezes right on passed, seemingly headed to the bank of elevators. At the last hundred feet, he turns, making his way to what looks like a nondescript section of wall, but it's no wall. Opening a small panel, he punches in a code so long you couldn't remember the amount of numbers, let alone the actual code. Finally, there's a quiet snick and an elevator shows itself.

He carries you inside and the door slides shut, starting moving immediately. As the elevator ascends, he finally sets you down, but instead of giving you space, he backs you against the wall. His large hand cups your cheek before he leans in and places a heart meltingly sweet kiss on your lips. Never in your life have you had so much casual, meaningful affection. These men are going to do terribly amazing things for and to you. The elevator pulls to a gentle stop, but still he holds you. It's a sweet kiss, a longing kiss. A kiss to make you long for more and beg to stay. He is making you crave him, making you wonder about the rest of them.

"Oh zaika," he groans, finally pulling away. "You tempt me so, but we have an appointment that I will not let us miss."

Dragging you through the extravagant space, he doesn't give you a chance to take it in before you find yourself in a fully equipped spa wing, including a couple people waiting for you with warm smiles.

Shock has you jerking to a stop, but gentle pressure at the small of your back has you moving again. An incredibly soft robe is placed in your hands.

"Mr. Sloggoth, we have everything ready for you," the young woman informs. "Just let us know when you're ready for us.” The pair both nod before exiting the suite.

"What's going on, Zhuk?" you ask. "I know I can't do most of the spa experiences."

His gentle chuckle is a caress just as firm as those given by his hands. He takes your hand and pulls you near.

Cupping your belly, he grins. "I know svezda moya, I have taken such limitations into account. If you are agreeable, I will give you a full body message before calling on the others to give us both facials, manicures, and pedicures."

"Really?" you gasp, voice and face doing nothing to hide your excitement. "But what about you?"

"This is for you, well," he tilts his head, a knowing smirk lighting his face. "I will be getting my own pleasures."

The look in his eyes shows you exactly what his pleasure will be, though you suspect you will definitely enjoy yourself.

"That is," he adds, watching your expression. "As long as you are comfortable with that."

You bite your lip, thinking before you ask, "Will this be a 'happy ending' massage? And will I be reciprocating?"

A growl rumbles through the air and a glow lights his eyes. Taking a deep breath, he closes his eyes and calms. "As much I would love that, this is for you. We have all night and I want you to be as relaxed as possible."

He's really willing to get me off without getting any himself? All because he's trying to woo you, to get to know you, maybe to fall in love.

"Allow me to escort you." He takes your elbow, leading you to a warm, dimly lit room, with candles spread throughout and soothing music playing in the back ground. Just being here has your heart rate slowing and your breathing calming.

"I will give you some time to get ready. If you are open to an... inclusive experience, disrobe and lay under the towel. If not, there is a bikini you can put on." Before turning to leave, Zhuk drops his lips against yours.

Leaning back against the table, you bite your lip as you watch him walk outside, or more accurately, his ass. Shaking your head, you force yourself to focus on the dilemma at hand, bikini or no bikini. You think about the others, would they be upset? No, is the immediate answer that comes to mind. They all knew this was a possibility and it seems they all have their own plans for you. So really, the only thing you truly have to decide is if you want everything he's offering right now, or try for more later. Holding up the tiny pieces of cloth, you make up your mind.

A few minutes later, Zhuk finds you laying on the massage table, on your stomach. Turning your head, you smile at him. "Hi

"Hello, zaika," he replies, coming to stand next to you, sleeves rolled up. "Are you ready?"

You nod, then ask, "Is it okay for me to laying like this?"

"Yes, you are perfect."

Your eyes follow him as he moves to grab a bottle of oil off a table. Thighs clenching, you force yourself to close your eyes, too tempted by the sight of him. Startled when you feel him pull the towel down your back, you know when he realizes you aren't wearing anything beneath it. The air grows thick with your combined arousal.

A splash hits your back, and he quickly rubs it in. Next comes both arms, then he moves the towel off your legs, leaving your ass as the only thing covered and without oil. Already you feel incredibly relaxed, sinking deeper into the cushion.

His deep voice blends into the ambiance, "Can I continue?"

"I don't know," you snark, too relaxed to know better. "Can you?"

"Careful, zaika," he growls, firm hand gripping your ass with a bruising force. "I may not be able to punish you fully for the time being, but I will keep track of such things."

His threat does far more to excite you, rather than instill fear, but still, you don't want to risk doing or saying anything that might have him deciding not to continue.

Turning your head to look at him, you practically beg, "Please, Zhuk, Please."

Smiling, he grazes one of his knuckles down your cheek. "Of course, svezda moya." He teases a quick kiss against the back of your neck, before finally removing your towel completely. Before you can truly adjust to the air caressing your skin, the oil is all ready rubbed in, and the massage can truly begin.

Zhuk is incredibly thorough, starting at your hands working his way way up to your shoulders and neck. Then he went down to your feet, kneading and working way up. Moans and gasps you've never heard escape you as he releases tensions you didn't even know you hand.

Your breathing quickens as he gets closer and closer to your ass, finger digging into your inner thighs, so close to where you desperately need him. Inching your legs apart, you try to tell him what you want without having to say a word.

Unfortunately, he doesn't take your silent plea, instead, he goes back up to your shoulders. His firm fingers find knots and kinks you never realized were there. Even as you tell yourself to focus on what you're feeling, what you're feeling has you more distracted than ever. An almost constant whine is coming from your throat as you desperately fight not to grind your clit against the table. Still, your hips start to move uncontrollably.

Chuckling, he finally starts kneading your lower back, occasionally grazing the top of your cheeks, which isn't helping at all. You clench your fists, wrestling for control, when his finger starts playing at your cleft. Legs spreading even more, you hope to draw him further, but even if it doesn't work, the comparatively cool air feels so good against your heated flesh.

"Oh god," you moan as his strong hands caress and grip your ass. His fingers dip and play, dancing over your rosette, sneaking ever closer to your increasingly desperate hole. You suck in a gasp when he ghosts over your wet pussy... and let out a disappointed scream when he immediately pulls away.

Frustration has you flipping over to glare up at him, not caring one iota that you're flashing him. Laughter is his only response. "I'm sorry, Suezda moya, but I did need you to turn over for me." But the look he's dragging down your body tells you just how sorry he is, not at all.

Still glaring, you lay back, legs splayed. You're already so incredibly horny you feel no shame. Looking right at him, your hand slides over your hip, heading straight for your mound, but just before you reach your clit, a hand grips your wrist.

Zhuk's eyes blaze as he warns, "Careful, your pleasure is mine to give. Try to steal that from me again, and I will tie you down and make you regret it." Part of you wants to test him, but you know he still has more planned for tonight, and you don't want that effort to go to waste. “Do you understand?"

Nodding, you decide to push just a little. "Yes, sir."

Growling, he pulls you into a punishing kiss. He bites and tugs at your lips, stealing your breath. Pulling back, he groans, "Volshebnitsa," against your ear.

With a glare, he takes your shoulders and pushes you back, ordering you to stay with his eyes. You bite your lip as you silently debate whether to keep your eyes open and watch him, or if you should just lay back and enjoy what you know is coming. In the end, you decide to trust and just feel.

Just as he did with your back, he starts by coating you in the lotion, only this time, instead of starting at your extremities and working inward, he moves up your arms and down your body, only avoiding the spot between your legs. In fact, your mound is the only place he truly pays no attention to.

Starting at your feet, he pushes and prods, making your toes clench and release.

As he moves up your calfs, you relish the occasional catch of calluses. Teeth catch your lower lip as you try to hold in your whimpers, not that it does much good. Firm fingers kneading your inner thighs has gasps and moans breaking free.

You so desperately want to play with your nipples or maybe stroke your clit, but you won't risk getting in trouble. Not wanting to blatantly defy him, you subtly rub your thighs together. Strong hands immediately pry them apart again.

They slip and slide up your slick skin, tips digging, nails lightly grazing. He reaches around and grips your ass before having his hands follow your hips, thumbs brushing the creases between your thighs and mound. And then he's gone.

You surge up on your elbows, making sure he sees your grumpy pout. There is no remorse in his answering smirk, only a malicious gleam that tells you he's enjoying your reaction to his teasing.

Falling back as his hand travels up your stomach, you resign yourself to having to persevere through his torture. I will not let him win, you think to yourself, deciding to hold back your reactions to keep a hold of as much control as you can. Even as he very gently massages your stomach, the rest of you clenches. Your eyes squeeze shut, you set your jaw, and tense your shoulders.

Slow, deep chuckles fill the space. "Zaika, you wish to hide your reaction from me?" he asks, obviously not expecting an answer since he adds, "Challenge accepted."

Before you can analyze what he means, his hands are on you once again upon you, but this time it's no gentle tease. He twists and pulls on your nipples, making you fight not to respond. Then, something warm and wet closes over your right nipple. Your fight is lost as you let out a strangled gasp.

His eyes glint up at you and you feel his sharp teeth nibble on your hardened nub. The other is being pinched tight.

"Oh god," you gasp, one hand weaving through his hair, the other covering his pinching one. Your reaction has you wondering what exactly is in that oil, but honestly, you're far too horny to care.

"Zhuk, please! I need you!" the voice coming from you is completely unrecognizable.

He places a gentle peck on your nipple before standing and removing his shirt. You follow him up, catching him off guard when he frees his head and finds you undoing his pants. With his help, you have him completely naked in just seconds. Kneeling in front of him, you glance up, asking with your eyes if you can touch him. He gives you a small nod, so you reach out, hands slipping up his thighs. Muscles twitch as you explore them. His fingers tangle in your hair. Your hands slide over his hips to cup his ass, which brings your face very close to his cock.

Looking up, you watch his face as you very intentionally breathe on his member. His eyes are squeezed shut and jaw is clenched, making you feel like the most powerful woman in the world. One hand plays at his hip, the other teasing between the base of his shaft and his balls.

Moving close, you treat it like an ice cream cone, alternately swirling your tongue and suckling at the head. A constant growling hum reaches your ears, with several moans and groans letting you know how he's liking it. His grip in your hair grows tighter when you start to trail your tongue up and down his shaft, following the veins.

Spitting on both of your palms, you start pumping him with both fists and playing with the tip. Your tongue dips and explores at his slit, tasting him. As a quick surprise, you take him as deep as you can, sucking hard.

A sudden roar rips through the room, and you find yourself cradled in strong arms, being rushed somewhere new. Flinging open a door, you shriek when you're suddenly flying through the air. Before your back has fully settled on the soft bed, he's there; one hand playing with a nipple, the other wrapped around a thigh, holding you down, all while his tongue starts its own exploration.

Starting at your clit, he slowly circles it, listening, feeling, learning your spots. Whimpers and whines fly from you, helping him with his studies. Once he's figured out some tricks, he moves lower, starting to thrust into you with his tongue, tasting you. While he drinks his fill, his fingers dance over your little bundle of nerves.

"Ah, Ah, Ahh!" you cry out, already so close to release.

His tongue disappears, only to be replaced by his finger while his mouth latches on to clit, sucking, sending you into orbit. The pleasure of the orgasm is so intense you try to jerk away, but he holds you tight. There is nothing you can do but lay back and experience.

Zhuk finally slows, letting the orgasm ebb. As you begin to regain control of your body, you reach down and pull him up, well, he lets you pull him up.

"Please, Zhuk,” you pant, body still craving more. "I want you."

Nodding, he positions himself over you, but still he asks, "Are you sure, svezda moya? Do you want me to wear a condom?" The concern in his voice almost makes you cry, telling how much he already cares for you.

You shake your head, "No, you can't get me any more pregnant, and if I remember right, I was told y'all can't get 'human' diseases."

He chuckles and shakes his head, before kissing you softly. "Yes, zaika."

Wrapping your arms and legs around him, you press kisses across his jaw as he lines himself up with your entrance. His lips take yours as he starts thrusting forward. Unlike so many men who start with long, deep strokes, Zhuk is more tempered. His strokes are slow and shallow, exploring with his cock what he'd explored with his fingers and tongue just minutes earlier, and it's so effective.

There are no words that can truly explain what you are feeling in this moment. It's more than just the physical, which is admittedly spectacular. It's the connection that's quickly growing between you, which ties into the feelings you've already built with Scarabee. It's the way he's already shown such care to not only you, but to the baby, and all those animals back at the rescue.

You can't say you're surprised by your new, but intense emotions you are feeling towards him, even if they have come on so fast. It may not be love right now, but you can see how easily it will be to fall for him, for all of them.  

Finally, he starts to pick up pace, still not going very deep, but consistently rubbing your g-spot. His weight shifts and there's a finger on your clit, rubbing in small circles.

"Oh god," you moan into his mouth, hips moving to match his, consistent pressure on your clit, inside you, combine with the feel of him on top of you and the way he tastes, and you cum again, muscles clamping down as you scream out in pleasure. Thrusting harder and faster, Zhuk quickly follows you over the edge, murmuring in a mix of Russian and English. Hot sperm fills you, making you shudder.

Zhuk practically collapses on top of you, rolling and pulling you on top of him. You both take a long time to relax and calm back down, sweat cooling and drying on your skin. You lie there for what feels like an eternity, probably falling asleep for at least a few minutes.

Moaning in displeasure, you clutch him, not liking him sliding out from beneath you.

"Hush, little one," he cajoles, managing to break free. "I need to get something to clean you, and I need to cancel a few reservations."

Disappointment fills you, "I'm sorry. I-"

He cuts you off with a kiss. "Do not blame yourself. I was no passive participate and I am very happy with the turn tonight took. I will call us room service and will ask you to accompany me to the shower."

You tap your finger against your lips, as if in deep thought. "I think I can accept your terms, but I do worry that I might not have the strength to make it all the way to the shower."

Laughter babbles up when he hoists you up and whisks you away, taking you to be prepped for more to come.

@janitor-boy @1-rosewiththorns @doyouhearthatsound-after-dark @dilfyjuice

[nadiaportia]

A Countess’s Masquerade

Summary: A surprising visitor makes an otherwise unpleasant party worthwhile for Nadia.

Word count: ~5.3k

Very much inspired and endorsed by @leatherandsaltybitters thanks to her July Prompt! As soon as I read it, the idea came up in my head and thus this little fic was born. It was quite fun to write and I hope it’ll be equally entertaining for everyone to read~.

“Noddy, darling! Where are you~?” Nadia flinched at her husband’s nasal voice carrying over to the private balcony. She wasn’t hiding from him, of course she wasn’t, but rather taking a break from… just everything and everyone. She liked a good party as much as the next person but this revelry? It threatened to overwhelm her, more than any party in Prakra had ever done. She had been in Vesuvia for three years now and this was her third masquerade so she felt that she should be used to this… or at least get used to it. 

Nadia leaned on the ledge, propped on her elbows and rubbed her temples. Everything was getting to her even though it was only an hour past midnight, and she was sure if she were to have another drop of cloudberry liquor, she'd have enough of it for the rest of her entire life. 

A good white wine would suit her well now and perhaps even lift her spirits to get through the night. With people such as Asra, Julian and their friends it was bound to be an entertaining evening, but besides them… the nobles cared more about getting as wasted as their livers allowed them to, some didn't even forget their agenda on a party and at least at her first masquerade she had to guide Lucio away from nobles trying to lure him into lowering their taxes or giving them money if they were to fulfill half-assed requests. But the man was a grown adult so if he fell for an obvious scam, that was none of her business. 

She took in a deep breath of the chilly night air and looked at the starry sky. The heat of the day had subsided and the gardens were full of masquerade guests. From the balcony she got a good view at those dancing, drinking and laughing, be it at the huge fountain in the middle of the garden or even the maze. 

She saw how a reveler dressed as an orange butterfly pulling another one dressed as a black cat along with them out of the maze and into the woods. Luckily if she had the need to hook up with someone, she had one of the various rooms in the Palace at her disposal, although she understood the thrill of doing so outdoors where someone could walk in at every moment.

"Nadi." She looked over her shoulder at hearing her name. "Here you are." Asra, wearing a opalescent white costume and a small mask with texture resembling snakeskin, leaned with his back next to her against the ledge and took a deep breath. Something about him… was decisively out of balance, and she could feel it wasn't just Lucio being himself or people acting up in general.

"Asra. Are you enjoying the night?"

He nodded, perhaps a tad too quickly, and put on an easy smile. "Yes, don't you worry about me." He waved a hand. "It's just… wow, the Masquerade." His eyes widened in exaggeration for emphasis. 

Nadia laughed. "Yes, truly. It's… quite the event. I don't know if I'll ever grow used to this particular flavor of revelry." She eyed her friend curiously as he brushed a white lock of hair behind his ear and unconsciously dabbed at a small collection of sweat beads with his sleeve. 

"Are you alright?" She reached out and gently touched his elbow. He gulped and nodded. 

"Oh, of course, why shouldn't I be? I think the cloudberry liquor is just so strong that it gives hallucinogens a run for their money." He laughed awkwardly, and Nadia decided to drop the matter. 

Asra could be very elusive if he wanted to, and there was never a way to coax anything out of him that he didn't give up voluntarily. In a way, he was the best secretkeeper you could ask for - he'd never tell. 

"Very well." She coughed. "How's the weather?"

Asra snorted. "Sayelle and Julian decided to hold an impromptu duet of a Galbradan folk song, it was quite impressive." 

Nadia smiled to herself. "Of course it was. They know how to work a stage."

"I'm surprised Julian didn't slur through his part."

"Noddy!" Lucio's loud voice rang over through the air, this time closer. The Countess and the magician looked at each other and simultaneously rolled their eyes. 

"Do you know why?"

"There's guests from Zadith and he wants to make a good impression - which on his own is nigh impossible already when he's sober."

"Well, at least it might be interesting to meet some new people." Nadia stood upright and straightened her dress. "It has been a while since I was in Zadith for the last time. Let's see how much things have changed."

They made their way through the groups of party-goers and entered the ballroom. Here the air was artificially kept cool and it really was a necessity considering that the majority of people were in there. 

"Oh, Asra, thank you for finding Noddy for me." A sweaty hand softly caressed her shoulder and soft lips pressed a kiss on her mask.

Asra's eyes were steely but he nodded in acknowledgement. "You're welcome, sir."

Lucio grinned and put an arm around Nadia. She smiled and touched his arm. "I heard something about a delegation from Zadith?"

"Oh, yes! Some alchemists and a bunch of nobles, small fish but we kinda need their backing because of the trade routes and all that other jazz." He made a vague hand movement. Nadia nodded slowly. "Very well… let’s see what we can do then. Nothing like negotiations during a birthday party."

Lucio let out a dramatic sigh. "So rude, I know. But let's get to it. Oh, hey, where are you going?"

Asra had turned and began walking back into the crowd. "Huh?"

"C'mon, the more the merrier."

"For 'negotiations'?"

"Hm, sure." Lucio grinned. "You're already in with the upper echelons, might as well see the inner workings." He let go off Nadia and put an arm around Asra's shoulder.

Asra's gaze met Nadia, who shrugged as a response. It couldn't do any harm, she thought. His eyes briefly wandered around the room as if he was searching for someone and then sighed.

"Alright, why not?"

They walked up the stairs and onto the upper level of the ballroom, where a group of people stood together in extravagant costumes. Lucio introduced them and Nadia was surprised that somehow he managed to come across as decently put together. The Zadithi nobles were eager to chat with her and were impressed by Lucio's military campaigns, falling easily for his charm. Nadia and Asra leaned back and she was about to suggest they'd leave to another party room, when -

"Oh, apologies, I was exploring some of the rooms in the West Wing! Whoever designed them deserves all the praise." A clear melodic voice rang over them and everyone turned their head towards the woman that approached them. Her costume could only be described with one word: pink - to be specific, the bright hot variant. The fabric was light, resembled ruffled silk and comfortably fit around her body, the dress ended halfway along her thighs but another extravagant piece of fabric continued in the back similarly to a peacock's tail without touching the floor. Her high-heeled shoes were of the exact same hue as the dress, just like the gems around her neck and her earrings. The mask she wore depicted a flamingo. On the vast majority of people, this outfit would have been considered a fashion sin and no doubt resulted in their imprisonment but somehow… it worked fantastically on her. Nadia had no idea how but it did.

The woman herself had impeccable posture as she walked towards them, shoulders low, back straightened and her head held confidently high. Her brown skin meshed well with the vibrant pink of the dress and her dark brown hair was fixed in an updo. Through the mask she saw a pair of eyes the color of dark honey and her full lips were painted a dark red, almost black. 

"Gentlepeople of the Zadithi court, I hope I am not interrupting something." She said as she inclined her head towards the delegation who apparently were her companions all along. 

"Oh, Marquesa, no, you're most welcome to enter the conversation actually." One of them, a tall man with golden skin, said and bowed to her. "We’re actually having a lovely conversation with our hosts - whom, if I recall, you haven't met as of yet!"

To Nadia's surprise, she heard Asra cough and turned to see him looking suddenly very out of it. 

"Really?" The woman made a surprised face and looked from Lucio to Nadia to Asra. "Well, we have already met, have we not, young magician?" Her eyes were on Asra for a brief moment and her eyes twinkled until she turned her attention back to the Count and the Countess. Nadia noticed that her gaze lingered on her for maybe a little too longer before she spoke next.

"Your excellencies: Lady Heloisa de Rubalcaba of Calpacia, representative of the Zaan of Cartagenth in foreign affairs." She made a curtsy and her costume rustled. "To your services, Count Lucio and Countess Nadia."

"We are very honored to have you, Lady Heloisa.” Nadia replied and nodded respectfully. The name vaguely rang a bell in her mind but she couldn’t recall precisely in what context. 

“Likewise.” Lucio added and nodded with a hand on his chest. 

Even though they were on Vesuvian soil and the local sovereigns, etiquette still demanded foreigners with a higher title were to be treated as guests of honor. She wondered what room this marquesa was given - although she did not recall invitations being sent out to the empire of Calpacia to the far West of the continent. Lucio seemed to think the same.

“Cartagenth, Calpacia… if I remember correctly, I stopped sending invitations after them being ignored for three years straight.” His tone was amicable but had an edge to it. Lady Heloisa shrugged. 

“That is very much true, Count Lucio. I was on a diplomatic mission in Zadith meeting my dear friends,”, she winked in the general direction of the Zadithi delegation, “when your invitation reached the council - and since they are allowed to bring guests and I was at the moment the guest of honor at court, here I am!”

“Especially because you mentioned never having been here, Marquesa!” A woman with a headscarf and a fennek mask claimed. 

“Yes.” The marquesa sighed. “The diplomatic relations between Cartagenth and Vesuvia are not the best, after the Vesuvians’, err, I guess one could refer to it as a “business”, in Karnassos, ancient allies of ours from back when they were the local military power.”

Nadia’s eyes went to Lucio who was busy inspecting the tips of his gauntlet. She remembered a history lesson many, many years ago in her childhood, about the nations to the west of Prakra where the kingdoms of Bizatena, Calpacia and Karnassos had joined forces to break down a merchant revolt. 

“C’mon, let’s get out of here.” Asra whispered. A single bead of sweat was rolling down his temple and Nadia raised an eyebrow. Was he that unnerved because of the marquesa?

“Give me a few minutes, Asra, then I’m with you.” She whispered back and gently touched his arm. Asra looked already more at peace and touched her hand reassuringly. 

“Mirror room.” With that, he turned and left.

“Either way, hopefully that can be water under the bridge now - who knows, maybe one day we will need to support each other.” 

“Hm, I think that Vesuvia is doing quite fine as of lately, but thank you for the offer, Lady Heloisa.” Lucio’s voice was honey but the slight curl in his lip indicated to Nadia that he was already displeased with her attitude. One corner of the marquesa’s lips turned upwards and she let out a sigh. 

“That might be true but you know - you never know. Unless you can see the future thanks to a crystal ball.” She winked at Lucio as if they were old friends planning a conspiracy together. Lucio’s cold grey eyes fixated on her warm brown ones and even though most of his face was hidden by the large peacock mask he wore, Nadia saw his ears turning beet red. The marquesa snatched a glass of rosé prosecco from the platter of a bypassing waiter.

“Which I quite frankly cannot - I possess no magical talents, unlike you.” She nodded at the members of the delegation. “For you, my friends, and the students of the alchemical academy of Zadith.” She toasted towards the Zadithi and downed the content of the flute in one go. 

“So this is all that brings you to Vesuvia, ‘diplomatic relations’? As for my husband’s military endeavors, that one has been solved after a court hearing - we paid reparations to the town of Karnassos, but of course I understand why its old allies might bear a grudge towards those who harmed the representative of their sister city.” Nadia stated curtly and tried to ignore Lucio’s questioning look that basically said ‘We paid reparations?’.

“Not exactly, it was also my own curiosity. Especially when I heard that the Countess happened to be a former Princess of Prakra.” Lady Heloisa’s eyes twinkled and her smile turned into something more genuine than the sardonic grin she had put on when talking to Lucio. “That certainly got my attention, and I am glad to know I did not come all the way here to be disappointed.” 

Was the marquesa trying to flirt with her, in front of her husband nonetheless? Bold, but… 

“Either way, thank you - I did not know that the matter had been solved, I thank you for clearing it up to me.”

“You’re more than welcome, Lady Heloisa.”

“And I mean it; your reputation precedes you, Countess Nadia; your work as a stateswoman in the service of your home country is known even to the Calpacian court and your sisters Nafizah and Navra have told me much about you when I was in Prakra two years ago. Quite a shame we did not meet earlier - you seem a most interesting character.” The last sentence was to Nadia’s surprised said in accented but very sure spoken Prakran. At the same time she remembered almost out of nowhere why exactly the name rang a bell. 

“Oh, you’re the playwright! The one who wrote The Dying Swan of Doña Astros.” Navra had raved about this play for at least a whole month and even attended a showing of it when the entourage and actors had travelled to Prakra.

Heloisa smiled and tucked a loose curl behind her ear. “Yes, the first play I ever wrote. I have a soft spot for it but Jocelyn y Templanza is the most dear to me. It’s just so much more personal.” 

“Oh, I haven’t seen either but… now that I recall it, I did read The Ballad of the Brave Knights of Crystalia. A good comedy with great social commentary.” 

“Ah, that one,”, she chuckled, “there are enough people who consider it a tragedy, partly because it’s based on real events. You certainly seem to have enough finesse and sharp wit to figure it out the right way, congratulations.” She winked and Nadia was glad for the mask on her face which hid her blush.

 “The Crystalian Knights were a real mercenary band - not one of them from Crystalia necessarily.” Lucio interjected. Nadia threw him a pointed look. Did he have to forcefully insert himself into the conversation?

“Why, thank you, I am well aware of that, your excellency.” Lady Heloisa’s mouth was a thin line. “My source is - well, was, since their era has ended - quite familiar with them; they were under her service after all.”

Lucio’s eyes widened and his lips pursed but he didn’t press the issue. 

“Reading the play could maybe give you a new insight on the events, darling.” Nadia suggested with a small smile and suppressed a chuckle when Lucio rolled his eyes. 

“Oh, don’t feel pressured to follow your wife’s recommendation, your excellency. Zero readers are better than one self-described expert.” She laughed. Nadia felt the corners of her mouth twitch. As if Lucio would ever finish a book in order to criticize it. Her husband meanwhile only stared at the marquesa who shook her head. “Pardon, I was just joking. A man of your standing, you must be quite educated and your military decorations say more than enough.”

“Oh, no offense taken, Lady Heloisa - or Marquesa? Which one is it? You are dressed like someone more important than you might actually be.” He slightly leaned forward with a grin that bared a little too much teeth.

Before Nadia could open her mouth, the marquesa answered cooly and with a steely look in her brown eyes that by now exuded no warmth whatsoever: “I am a representative of my house and since the actual marquesa is quite the busy woman, the political affairs fall to me, your excellency.” As quickly as her sharp veneer appeared, it was gone again and her tone became amicable again. “Either way… I take it you are quite busy with the delegation; the people who are actually interested in talking to you. Good day, and before I forget it: happy birthday - it is your party I am attending after all.” Lucio opened his mouth to answer, but Lady Heloisa turning on her heel cut him off before a word escaped him.

“Lucio.” Nadia hissed and leveled him with a displeased look. 

“C’mon, Noddy, from whichever backwater that woman is, they haven’t even invented manners over there.” 

Nadia raised an eyebrow which instantly made him shut up. “Have you ever heard of being the bigger person?”

Her husband put on a shameless grin. “Nope. Especially not on my birthday - why though, I’m already the greatest there is!” He looked down on himself and marveled at his peacock costume with a deep cut-out and tight shimmering teal pants.

Nadia sighed. “Like always it’s left to me to fix the messes you leave behind.” 

She didn’t even dignify Lucio with a response and followed the marquesa who with her hot pink costume was not only impossible to miss but also seemed to naturally draw looks to her. Nadia followed her through a crowd and before she reached her, she thought that maybe she was being ridiculous, this woman was a stranger to her but if Lucio just burnt a bridge to her and the Calpacian empire, that couldn’t be good.

“Lady Heloisa.” The marquesa turned at hearing her name. “Countess Nadia.” She said, with no little surprise in her voice. “What can I do for you? If you are here to apologize for your husband’s tactlessness: there is no need to.”

Nadia sighed. “Let me apologize regardless; I reckon you came to Vesuvia to make friends. Like any good host, I will not deny you the possibility to form good, better, bonds between Vesuvia and Calpacia.”

Lady Heloisa looked at her for a moment, then she nodded slowly. “I do not want to drag you from your own party, so feel free to deny me, but I need to breathe some fresh air - if you were to accompany me, I would be most grateful.”

“Well,” Nadia began, “I don’t have anywhere to be, by all means, and I was going to leave either way.” She remembered Asra, who most likely was waiting for her in the mirror room, that he probably left because of the same person who she was now talking to, but shook her head to chase away the thought. On the way to the balconies she saw Deirdra talking to a butterfly and a pigeon and told them as they passed by to tell Asra she wasn’t going to make it, and then the cold nightair hit her in the face. 

“Ah, much better. I thought I was going to suffocate in there.” Lady Heloisa fanned air into her face. “It's too many people in one room - as big as it might be, it is not enough.” She sighed. “Oh well. I don’t mean to be too forward but… how about the gardens? Less people, more fresh air - both sound like a good deal to me.” 

She grinned at Nadia and for a moment her eyes wandered over Nadia’s figure. “If you want to, Countess, that is. We can relax by the arbors too, as long as it’s away from all the spying little eyes. It is so hard to relax when you’re surrounded by just about everyone in existence.”

Nadia considered the offer for a moment and realized that entertaining the thought actually thrilled her. 

“The arbors sound good, you should just know that there's many people in the gardens right now, be it to catch some fresh air or… engage in risky behavior.” 

“Oh ho ho, how naughty! But oh well, it wouldn't be a party without some of that.” Lady Heloisa chuckled but then agreed to them going to the arbors. On the way there, she fell back for a moment but caught up a few seconds later, triumphantly holding a bottle of prosecco in her hand. "Not a party without some of that."

"You took it off a waiter?" Nadia raised an eyebrow but her tone was amused.

"Unless that was the last bottle in the Palace, in which case it'll be spent rather well." She said with a grin. They settled in an arbor far from any big crowds, surrounded by white rose bushes and with a block of marble in its middle. The two women sat on it, with Lady Heloisa wiping the block before doing so. 

"Stains won't show on my costume but yours… a swan should never stain her beautiful plumage." She winked and sat down cross-legged before she stripped the heels of her feet and rubbed her ankles. 

"Where did you even get it from? Considering you didn't even know the Masquerade was going to happen."

"Oh, I have an excellent and diligent tailor. I'm rather proud of what he came up with: it's very 'Me'."

Nadia straightened her long white feathered dress. "Well, it certainly is unique and quite daring, if I might say so."

Lady Heloisa laughed. "Both of us could surely go into the history books of masquerades as 'Best Dressed' of the evening if there was such a thing. No offense to any peacocks that might walk around the grounds at this very moment."

Nadia laughed.

“I apologize for making fun of your husband, I don’t mean to antagonize him.” Nadia highly doubted this, but didn’t say anything as she watched Lady Heloisa wedge the bottle between her knees and began pulling put the cork. “I’m here to mingle after all. Although I’m starting to think that you are much more amicable and approachable than him.” That easy smile was back on her but a loud plop make both of them jump and the marquesa let out a harsh curse as bubbly prosecco spilled out of the bottle.

“Oh, let me please.” Nadia quickly snatched the bottle from her fingers and put the bottle to her mouth, taking a big sip and put it down when most of the foam was gone. Lady Heloisa’s eyes didn’t leave her as she did so and went between the bottle and Nadia when she put it back on the marble block.

“I was about to lament I didn’t bring any glasses with me but… you don’t seem to mind.” She grinned and took the bottle, still stained with some of Nadia’s own lipstick, and took an equally big sip out of it. 

Nadia leaned back on her hands and curiously eyed the marquesa from head to toes. The fingers holding the bottle were long and slender; a silver band adorned her thumb and another her ring finger. Her dress had a thin but deep cut-out and was made to accentuate her long brown legs. There was a slight hint of fruity scent to her, and Nadia imagined her skin to be soft to the touch. 

As the conversation naturally progressed, she noticed that as soon as she was one-on-one and more at ease with someone, the marquesa had a shift in demeanor - her speech was less strained, less formal than when talking next to the Zadithi delegation. 

She told her about why she was in Zadith in the first place (a potential partnership and exchange program between the Guild’s First Magical Institute and the Alchemical Academy of Zadith), her journey (“I feel like a woman of the people now after sleeping on a field bed two days in a row”) and her last trip to the Star Lakes (where she did meet Nahara and Navra as it turned out and if Nadia read the signs correctly, they went on some very heavy nightly carousing) which in turn led to Nadia talking about Prakra and her life in Vesuvia. 

The marquesa hung onto every word that came out of the Countess's mouth and Nadia grew more and more confident the longer she spoke with her. It was so satisfying to talk to someone and have them actually listen to you, showing actual interest in your words and being a good audience. The only other person she had ever felt the same with after leaving Prakra was Asra; his friends were very sweet but she didn't know them that well yet, Doctor Devorak would tell his own tales in response which was fine but not always what one needed, and Lucio… everything was a competition for him and he would come up with an outrageous lie to make her feel small.

“So, how are you liking Vesuvia so far?”

“Hm.” Lady Heloisa pursed her lips. "It reminds me a bit of Bizatena, but... ,", she sighed, "less well organized. I won't lie, Countess, but there are parts of the city that look atrocious. Happy citizens are happy to be subjects, and unhappy citizens… well, I don't think I need to finish that thought. Prakra has a very high standard of life, its citizens enjoy many rights - how does it compare to Vesuvia?" 

Nadia's thoughts went to coliseum fights and the neglect of the aqueduct system. She felt blood rush to her face as she didn't reply right away, in shame of not doing enough for the city and its inhabitants.

"There isn't even a proper legal system." Why was she telling this woman about it? She had done nothing to prove herself trustworthy - in fact, Nadia thought about the look on Asra's face when he saw the marquesa, that surely had to mean something. 

Lady Heloisa shook her head. "For fuck’s sake. That… sounds horrible. My true condolences." She gave Nadia an empathetic look and reached out to touch her arm. "I hope that one day Vesuvia is ruled by the sovereign it deserves - the quicker the better."

Nadia looked at her for a moment as she processed what the marquesa had just said. Was she really implying what she thought?

"You clearly are a smart and cultured woman, Countess, there is no doubt about it. You surely have got to have some influence amongst the count's advisers or the Vesuvian council in some way, if your husband doesn't listen to you - which is a grave mistake on his part - then at least he should do so with his courtiers."

Nadia thought of the courtiers Lucio had brought to Vesuvia, those strange creatures of whom she wasn't even sure if there was a soul in their chest or not… slippery Vlastomil, mysterious Valdemar, boorish Vulgora and excessive Volta. The newest consul, a young Vesuvian named Valerius, son of a noblewoman who had faithfully served the previous Count and Countess, was the only one she felt some sort of kinship towards but even then she felt on thin ice with him. 

"I will try." She conceded with a sign. "You speak like someone who has plenty of experience with this."

The marquesa grinned and shrugged. "I don't kiss and tell, dearest Countess, all I will say is this: the Cartagense court is a lion's pit and its inhabitants are eternally starved and thus always down to rip you to shreds. I hope for your sake that the Vesuvians are nothing like that - even if I can see you surviving in a hostile environment.”

Nadia watched her as she sighed and reached up to her face to take off the flamingo mask. She didn’t know what exactly to expect behind the mask but she was anything but disappointed: the marquesa had a face that was quite easy on the eyes. Coupled with her magnetic personality, her charisma, her way with words… the woman was fascinating to put it in one word. And yet… she reminded her of those flesh-eating orchids from the jungles in Northern Prakra. 

Lady Heloisa turned the mask in her hand and scoffed. 

“I had this costume made last minute when your husband's invitation arrived in Zadith. Something that says 'I'm down for the fun!', no statement piece or whatever.” She brushed a non-existing speck of dirt off the mask. “Yours clearly positions you as the one with her head in the game, Countess: regal, gracious and with a protective, mayhaps even a little ruthless, streak.” She raised an eyebrow, her smirk confident. “Is it that what's underneath your mask? I'd love to know.”

She reached out to caress Nadia's swan mask but just as her fingers brushed it, Nadia took a hold of her wrist. The marquesa's eyes widened but she didn't protest, on the contrary, the corner of her mouth twitched upwards. Nadia's lips curved into a smile as she gently stroked with her thumb over the skin of the marquesa's inner wrist. The smell of fruity perfume intensified. 

“I don't kiss and tell either, Marquesa.”

Lady Heloisa's eyes were fixed on hers for a moment and then seemed to collect herself. “I have never been one to back down from a challenge.” Her cheeks darkened a bit and she lowered her hand a bit - Nadia let her until she stopped just shortly above her thigh covered by the white satin of her costume. 

“You certainly are daring, Lady Heloisa.” Nadia gently let go of her and in the process trailed over her delicate hand, caressing the knuckles of her long fingers. 

“Is that what you prefer?” The marquesa scooted closer to her, their legs almost touching. “Daring women?”

Nadia felt her face heat up but leaned in, tilted Lady Heloisa's chin up with her finger and replied: “Who says I am not a daring woman?”

The marquesa let out an light chuckle at that. “Countess Nadia, you do have some surprises up your sleeve. I don't know what I expected from Vesuvia but it wasn't someone like you.” She reached for the bottle and frowned. 

“Damn… guess we killed that one.” 

Nadia laughed. She stood up and gulped as she swayed slightly on the spot but held her balance. “I suppose that's the sign we should get back to the ballroom.”

“Ah, yes. I suppose you are right.” Lady Heloisa put her heels back on and when she stood there, there was little to no sway at all - impressive, given the fact the marquesa had drunk more and was also smaller. 

“Maybe,”, Nadia hooked her arm in with the marquesa's. The flamingo costume rustled and the marquesa sucked in a breath as Nadia pulled her close, “you can surprise me in return with your dance moves.”

The laugh Lady Heloisa let out was loud and so very uncharacteristic for a cultured noble woman such as her. Nadia gave her a curious look as she tried to regain her composure. Maybe they were both a bit more enthusiastic after sharing that bottle. Lady Heloisa ran her fingers along Nadia's arm; her pink nails scraped a bit on her skin.

“Oh, that I surely will.”

[justahopelessssromantic]

Runaways- A Mayans MC Fanfic

Runaways Masterlist

Part 21

A/N: I finally did it and uploaded the day I wanted to! Man I don’t know about all y’all but all my days are so mixed up I hardly even know what day it is. Saturday really snuck up on me but I still got the next part finished 💕 As always thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoy 😊

*gif not mine*

Warnings: Some angst but mostly fluff

EZ and Angel took turns keeping watch, one outside and one in the living room. Eventually a plan would need to be made but right now it was hard to even think straight. Having everyone around at least eased some of my anxieties and I’m sure everyone else’s as well.

The words from the note echoed in my head: ‘I can’t wait to see you again.’ I could hear his voice speaking to me clear as day as if he was whispering into my ear piercing straight through me. The chill that followed would not fully shake from within me but I tried my best to ignore it. I could certainly wait to see him again.

Laying on my back on the decent size queen bed that occupied my bedroom I was wedged between David and Nicky making the space feel much smaller but I didn’t mind at the moment. We hadn’t shared a bed since we were little and it brought back the nostalgia of childhood days gone by, days when we didn’t have a single worry. Days when we were just free and innocent. I hoped so desperately that my child would have that comfort, that she would always feel safe and protected. And I wanted her to know how loved she was.

Hopefully one day we would look back on this time of our lives as if it was only just a bad dream.

We laid together in the dark staring up at the popcorn ceiling above us. With a hand in each of mine we were connected in unity. It was a way for us to be there for the other even in complete silence. All our thoughts and emotions were heavy, none of us felt like talking a whole lot right now.

However I needed to break the silence, to get the last secret I was keeping from the, out and in the open before it was too late. The weight of it felt just as heavy as the past events and I felt like it might come crashing down on me, crumbling like everything else in our lives had. I wanted the moment I told them to be perfect and special but there was no time like the present I supposed. Our lives were messy and complicated and very dangerous. If I didn’t tell them now then I may never get the chance to.

“I have to tell you something,” I spoke out into the silence. I was perhaps more nervous to tell them than anyone else. I wasn’t certain how their reactions would be. It could really go any way.

David squeezed my hand tighter in encouragement as if he could feel my nervousness, “We’re listening.”

I took a deep breath exhaling slowly. Compared to everything else this should be something minor but still they were the two most terrifying words to me in this moment. “I’m pregnant.”

There was a long pause where no one uttered a single word. The moment felt like it dragged on forever doing nothing to dissipate my worries. I wondered what must be running through their minds. Were they angry or disappointed in me? Excited or happy? It was incredibly hard and frustrating to try to read someone’s emotions in the dark especially when they wouldn’t say anything. Plus I was too afraid to look either of them in the eye.

“Please say something, anything.” I couldn’t take it any longer. I had to hear them say something even if it wasn’t what I was wanting. I would take anything at this point.

“I’m gonna be an uncle?” Nicky spoke up first. I could hear the smile playing at the corner of his lips.

“Yes,” I smiled, relieved. Taking his hand I placed onto my still relatively flat stomach to emphasize my news.

“Wow,” I Nicky whispered out, his large hand warm against my shirt. I tilted my head to look at David. His face was still looking up and I could just barely make out the profile of his face as my eyes adjusted. He appeared contemplative from what I could make out.

“David?” I asked, pulling his attention to me.

He snapped out of whatever had been holding his mind captive. Turning his head to look at me he smiled and the sight alone was enough to make me feel lighter instantly. The heaviness of the day melted away and there was a pure moment of joy between us, a moment we so desperately needed.

“That’s amazing Willow,” he said, squeezing my hand even tighter, “You are going to be an amazing mother.”

“You really think so?” One of my greatest fears in this new chapter was that I wouldn’t make a good mother. I never really had one myself to look up to and she wasn’t here now to help me through everything during the pregnancy or after. I was completely on my own.

“Of course you fucking will be.” Nicky said matter of factly. Turning on his side and propping his head up under his hand he looked at me grinning.

“What do you think you’ve been doing most of your life?” David asked, adding on to Nicky’s statement. “You’ve not only been a mother to Nicky as he’s grown but you’ve been a mother to me as well Willow even though you’re younger than me." He added chuckling lightly. "You are the most nurturing and caring person we know. Your kid is really lucky to have you.” He reassured me a grin plastered across his face as well.

“And EZ’s a good guy. He clearly loves you and you him. The two of you are going to be great at it” Nicky added.

I smiled wider, my eyes filling with tears from all the love. Fucking hormones I thought as I wiped at my cheeks where the liquid spilled out.

I wasn’t truly alone in this and I had to remind myself that. Despite not having our parents I still had my two wonderful brothers, I still had EZ and his family, the club, Letty, so many wonderful people who had become part of this new big family of mine. I wasn’t alone, we weren’t alone.

“Do you know if it’s a boy or girl?” Nicky asked excitedly, distracting me from my rush of emotions, "I bet it's a boy. How much do you wanna bet David?"

I rolled my eyes. Of course Nicky would already be making bets on something like that. It was a welcome distraction however so I just rolled with it. I already knew what EZ thought and if I was betting I’d lay it all on his. Somehow I agreed with him. Deep down I felt as if she was a girl no matter how crazy that might sound to others. It was just a feeling. Or maybe EZ is just very persuasive and got into my head.

"Nah,” David shook his head, “I think it’s a girl.” Separating his hand from mine he took his turn in feeling my belly, “How far along are you? You still feel pretty flat.”

I laughed at that, “Thanks David. I’ll take that as a compliment.” I placed my hand over theirs, “I’d be about ten weeks now.”

“When did you find out?” Nicky asked.

“Just about a week ago. We wanted to tell you all together but shit with everything that’s happening I didn’t want to wait another second.” They didn’t have to know they were the last ones to find out, at least not right now. Letty would for sure brag to Nicky how she knew before him but that was fine with me. There was no need to worry about it now, it wasn’t important.

“So that’s why you’ve been so sick and crabby as shit recently.” Nicky teased earning a smack on his arm.

“Ouch!” He complained as David laughed at him knowing he deserved it for being an ass.

“Why don’t you two get back to your betting,” I suggested, “that’s enough questions for now.”

"Fine,” Nicky agreed, “As long as you promise not to hit me again.”

“As long as you are nice I won’t,” I teased sticking my tongue out at him. We were three grown ass adults but I think the children in us would always be present when we were together.

“Deal,” He agreed, kissing me on the cheek, “Sorry for being an ass.”

“Gross,” I complained playfully, wiping my cheek as if it was the worst thing ever.

“Alright back to this bet” David cut in “How much are you thinking ? Twenty? Fifty?" He turned over on his side as well now so he could face Nicky and negotiate over me.

"Why don't we make it real interesting." Nicky suggested. I was a little worried to know just what my younger brother had up his sleeves.

"I'm listening.” David replied leaning in closer. Now I just felt like I was in the way and was ready to get the fuck out of here before the terms got started.

Sitting up I patted them both on the sides, "Well while you guys are discussing terms I'm going to go check on EZ." Scooting to the edge of the bed David caught my wrist gently turning my attention to them.

"We love you, Willow." He said serisouly.

I looked between my two brothers. Giving them a half smile I replied softly with an "I love you too."

Making my way completely off the bed I listened as they continued their discussion behind me and slipped out the door closing it tightly behind me. Padding down the hallway the aroma of coffee filled my senses warming my soul. Oh how I’ve missed my dear friend coffee.

Smiling to myself I watched as EZ stood in the kitchen in front of the coffee pot. The sputtering from the machine was booth alarming and comforting. The old thing would surely die out soon but for now as long as it produced what I wanted I was just fine with using it until that day came and we would be forced to buy a new one.

Wrapping my arms around his torso he flinched slightly before easing into my embrace. My face rested against his back as I felt the rise and fall of his breathing, a steady and rhythmic pace.

“You really need to get a new machine,” EZ stated, listening to the horrendous sounds, “I’ll buy you a new one.”

“Maybe someday,” I hummed into his back, “but it works just fine right now. There’s no need to be wasting money on that.”

EZ’s chuckle vibrated through his bake shaking my head gently, “I’m not sure I’d call this working just fine.” He ran his thumb across the back of my hand before twisting around and placing one large hand on my hip. With the other he brushed the hair out of my face and behind my ear smiling when he could see my face better. "How are you doing, mi amor?"

I looked into his calming brown eyes instantly feeling at ease in his presence, "I'm doing better."

"And how's mi princesa?" His hand traveled from my hip slipping under my shirt to rest firmly against the middle of my stomach. He ran his thumb back and forth across my skin, his touch warm and loving.

"She's behaving herself for the most part," I said looking down at his hand picturing the child beneath it.

"I should have known.” He said out of nowhere looking down at his hand as well.

I looked up at him resting my hand against his face and pulling his attention to me, "Don't do that. There is no way you could have known."

"I knew I didn't like him. He gave off this bad feeling but I just never thought he could be a real threat." He said leaning into my palm, “At worst I just thought he could be some guy trying to steal my girl away.” He chuckled bitterly to himself, “I guess in a way I was right.”

"You didn't even know about him and I should have told you sooner," I rubbed my thumb back and forth against his cheek, "I'm sorry about that. You deserved to know everything a long time ago."

He shook his head grabbing my hand in his and giving it a kiss, "Doesn't matter. No more worrying about what should have happened or what was supposed to be, remember?"

I nodded glancing down at the floor before back up to those soft brown eyes of his.

"All that matters is here and now. We are going to figure this out together," leaning down he planted a kiss on my forehead before resting his against mine, "And if I ever get the chance I will kill him.”

He meant every word, I knew that. If it really came down to it EZ would kill him without a moment of hesitation, but this was my family's enemy, my family’s mess to clean up. If anyone was to kill him I strongly believed it should be one of us. I would love to do it myself but out of the three of us it should be Nicky. At the same time however I didn’t know if he could handle that.

The sputtering of the coffee machine finally ended after a particularly guttural sound came out as the last drops sprayed into the pot. EZ pulled away from me grabbing another mug from the cupboard motioning to me with it, "You want some?"

"What kind of a question even is that?" I teased,” I would love that, yes.”

Chuckling he poured some of the hot liquid into my mug before opening the fridge and topping it off with my favorite creamer. I crossed my fingers hoping our little princess would let me enjoy this one cup of coffee without tearing my stomach up. As of right now the scent wasn’t repulsive so I took that as a good sign.

Mugs in hand we made our way back into the living room settling down into the sofa. Wrapping his arm around my shoulder EZ pulled me close. I snuggled into him inhaling the scent of his leather.

"I never got the chance to ask," he murmured over his mug before taking a sip of the nearly black liquid in his mug, "How'd it go with Galindo?"

"Good," I replied simply, "I don't think he suspects anything. It seemed to be just a normal mundane lesson, no sinister intentions."

"You can't be too careful with Miguel. Remember that Willow." EZ warned. I didn’t think the two would ever be on good terms and ever though I liked Miguel, I even seemed to hit it off with him, I trusted EZ more.

"I will, I promise." Raising my mug I took a small sip savoring the sweetness on my tongue. Thinking back on my day before everything went to hell I remember those words of warning that Marcus Alvarez had given me to tell EZ. "There was one thing though." I said turning slightly so I could look at him. I pulled my legs up onto the couch with me as I resituated myself, "It was something that Alvarez said to me. A message for me to give you, really more like a warning."

EZ set his mug down on the coffee table in front of us before returning his attention back to me. His brows furrowed, "What did he say?"

"He said to tell you to be careful," I said looking in his eyes for any indication that he knew something more about this specifically coming from the man who started it all for the club "Do you think he knows something?"

"I don't know," he admitted, "He did question me about my involvement with Emily and the agro-park project but I didn’t tell him anything. He’s smart though. He didn’t get to the top for nothing.”

“We need to be careful, there are so many secrets to keep tight.” I took his hand in mine, “One slip up and we all go down.” I said rather somberly. How anyone could keep just half the secrets we had was beyond me. They all almost consumed me causing me to snap and I couldn’t slip up like that again. There was too much at stake. At least now I had EZ to help carry to load. As long as we kept our no secrets rule between us and hopefully wouldn’t add anymore I had a little hope that we could handle ourselves, more importantly that I could handle it all.

“We will be,” he assured me cupping my face in his hand, “I’m not going to let anything happen to either of you. Our family, all of our family is going to make it out of this whole,” he looked into my eyes, his gaze serious, “I promise.”

Tagging: @themeanestlittlewitch

[indig0g0]

I saw a lot of third party asks stepping in but hi, ACTUAL Gabriel anon back now. No, I did not know he didn't like that nickname because all I know about him is the callout blog and the more recent callout. But that isn't the theft I am talking about. I don't care about Opal. Gabriel has been called out for tracing before. And scamming people. Why is on theft fine but another isn't? Why are you okay with giving one person the chance to change despite the fact that they have given shotty excuses

I wanted to break this ask down into pieces here because there's a lot to unpack here! Also bear in mind this is the LAST ask I will be answering on this, because again... this is about Altar, stealing with definitive, irrefutable proof, from artists in this community and others.

No, I did not know he didn't like that nickname because all I know about him is the callout blog and the more recent callout

If... this is all you know about him as a person, why are you even here?

Why are you trying to derail an entirely separate situation, which has affected 6 or more artists, 2 of whom are IN this community?

Why are you derailing a conversation about someone who has displayed clearly that he's only really ashamed for having been caught? And trying to GOTCHA me, instead of.... actually addressing the problem at hand?

are you okay anon or do you just have a one track mind and are incapable of dealing with and caring about multiple problems at once?

But that isn't the theft I am talking about. I don't care about Opal. Gabriel has been called out for tracing before.

Here's where I'm addressing this piece! Hi!

That callout blog you only know gabriel for? Doesn't present evidence, anywhere on the blog. If I had visual evidence, CONCRETE proof of Gabriel "tracing", that was made within the last 1-2 years when gabriel was an adult... and was more than just the circumstantial "he used the same design motif that i used, clearly I'm the originator of this design which i totally didn't get insp from elsewhere"

don't you think that I... someone who loudly called out someone else for stealing.... would have said something about it by now?

As a grown ass man, I'm perfectly comfortable holding my friends accountable for their bad behavior. I don't believe in enabling people. Because I'm not a yes man.

And scamming people.

So I have a lot of mixed feelings on this part in particular, because like. A lot of the criticisms of Gabriel's professionalism ARE valid criticisms! And he is working on them! With help!

Communication when you have a long wait time is EXTREMELY important!

But "taking a long time to do a commission because you have an unmedicated mental illness, and having to take more commissions anyway because you're poor and have bills to pay a family to feed" and "taking commissions and running away forever" is not the same thing.

Being poor and buying one thing that makes you happy with commission money you received after you've paid your expenses. Is not scamming.

Being poor is not the crime that blog (and many others!) make it out to be, and poor people ARE allowed to have nice things even when they're poor! It's not like he begs 200$ for rent and spends all 200$ on a new switch! Like!

Come on people!

Why is on theft fine but another isn't?

Don't put words in my mouth.

As I mentioned previously in the ask, if you can prove beyond reasonable doubt that Gabriel stole from another artist, I am ALL ears and I will happily have a long conversation with him about it!

Because I'm no one's yes man besides mine and my boyfriend's!

Why are you okay with giving one person the chance to change despite the fact that they have given shotty excuses

Again with the words in my mouth!

So here's the thing!

I'm not opposed to Altar growing from this as a person! I'm not saying we should cancel him forever! In fact, i hate cancel culture as it exists in the vacuum of the FTC because...

All of yall will conflate an actual pedophile making a comeback in the community with someone using the same design motifs and having personal beef with someone else, and act like they’re the same.

But guess what! The pedophiles and their friends are still around and no one says anything (because tragically the original person who called them out was ALSO a fucking freak so OBVIOUSLY it meant the actual proof we outside parties found that those people were lying wasn't real!), but you're all hell bent on driving Gabriel, his sole source of income, and every artist around him into the ground, because none of you wants to think critically about anyone besides someone you ALREADY hated!

BUT BACK TO ALTAR!

I want him to grow from this!

But I also want to hold him accountable for his actions, which have directly and PROVEABLY harmed other artists, in this community AND others! And frankly, his apology left a LOT to be desired!

Even in DMS (which there were many of mind you!) he circled back to how he didn't know/think about how it was wrong, and how he feels bad, but never once ACTUALLY apologized, he ONLY made excuses/“explanations” for himself on why he did what he did and how I should understand his decisions even if I don’t accept them. ):

And you know what?

I challenged him to prove his mettle, settle up with Reikii with definitive proof of the person who gave him the design so Reikii can deal with THAT person, And write an apology that actually addresses our concerns instead of sounding like wishy-washy damage control

and I’m still fucking waiting.

[mustardprecum]

27 for harringrove please 🥺 (it’dbe appreciated if steve’s the one that’s preggers thank you!)

[27 “I’m pregnant.”]

Steve had decided to try and get pregnant. The notion came to him shortly after El’s birthday, when Steve realized that all his kids were over twenty-one. The abrupt ache of an empty nest got the ball rolling, and after more researching and reading than he’d done during any one year of school, he made his decision.

Most of the people in his life were well meaning when he told them, but also rudely disbelieving. After all, Steve was a single omega in his mid-twenties, mostly living off a trust fund from his parents and a hefty inheritance from his great aunt. Money he was very grateful for, considering he’d never be able to afford owning a house in the new development near downtown with his sporadic part time jobs. 

(Good ol’ Aunt Phyllis would have been stoked to find out that he choosing to be a single parent.) 

The issue with the public perception of his personality was the fact that it was largely based off the person he was in his sophomore and junior year of high school. Steve had grown and changed from the flakey teenager. One could almost say he was literally an adult. 

At least Dustin supported him. Mostly. 

“Steve, you can’t be serious.” 

Dustin sat at the island in Steve’s kitchen, eating a bowl of cut up strawberries that Steve had put out for him. Old habits die hard, and Steve had been one of the few people who could get a young Dustin to eat his fruits and vegetables. “I mean of all the people in Hawkins, in the world, why him?” 

Earl grey tea was kind of gross, but Steve was trying to stop drinking coffee for his caffeine fix. He took his time stirring in a packet of stevia while he considered his answer. 

Billy Hargrove had come along in Steve’s senior year of high school and had promptly become a massive pain in the ass. Although, one thing that set him apart from all the other alpha meatheads was the fact that his taunts and jabs were purely personal for Steve, and never once did he resort to misogyny. 

God, the bar had been so low at that time. 

Over the past ten years, Billy had mellowed out slightly but noticeably. He worked at the mechanic Steve frequented for oil changes and tune ups, and lived in the periphery of Steve’s life because of his association with Max. And he still seized every opportunity to try and rile Steve up by getting in his personal space and commenting on his ‘ugly’ shirts. 

(Steve didn’t know when Billy developed a hatred of polo shirts, but it was apparently long lasting.)  

In the grand scheme of things though, none of it mattered more than one thing: Billy’s genes. He was a dick of the massive variety but goddamn if he hadn’t spent the past ten years being the most gorgeous person Steve had ever seen in his entire life. 

He smoked like a chimney and often had a beer in hand, but his skin was clear, his hair was soft, and his abs were extremely enviable. 

“I don’t want to go through a clinic,” Steve started. He quickly held up his hand before Dustin could start ranting. “I’m not going to ask someone I babysat to donate. I’m not really close with any other alphas in town, and an alpha is my best bet.” 

Dustin knew all of that. As a male omega, Steve would have fertility issues with a beta for scientific reasons he didn’t actually understand. Mike and Lucas had both been presented as options in Dustin’s argument, but the idea was too wrong. 

“Billy is…close enough, but far enough. You know?” Steve set his mug down; he honestly didn’t want to drink his tea. “If he says yes, working on inception will be pretty easy. If he says no, it’s not really a big deal. We’re not friends, so it won’t have to be awkward.” 

Privately, Steve assured himself that it had nothing to do with the crush he used to have on Billy. Therefore, it wasn’t inappropriate to ask. 

“But he’s such a tool,” Dustin said around a mouthful of strawberries. “Do you think he won’t be a tool about it?” 

“God. I know he’s going to be a tool about it. But,” Steve shrugged. “Just think of how cute my baby would be.” 

Dustin raised an eyebrow. 

“I would have a really cute baby, Dustin. And you would have a really cute little baby pseudo-sibling.” 

Poor Dustin, the only child, twenty-three and still wanting that younger sibling. He perked up, still looking skeptical but finally chewing quietly. 

“Plus, it’s all going to be in a contract. No parental or financial obligation,” Steve added to sweeten the deal. “I’ll get a positive test, pay him, and he’ll fuck off to wherever he spends his time.” 

Dustin hummed, drumming his fingers on the table. “I’m still godfather?” 

“Obviously.” 

“Okay,” Dustin bounced, smiling broadly. He was excited for a baby, and when he smiled, he looked like a cheetah cub. “Well, Max said she’d text you his number so…good luck?” 

“Thanks.” 

-

Sending the text was nerve-wracking, even though all he sent was ‘can we get lunch?’ Steve had put his phone face down and tried to distract himself with scrolling through reddit and Tumblr, but waiting for a response was even worse than sending the message. 

He’d followed up with several messages explaining who he was, once it occurred to him that Billy probably had no idea who was texting him. Eventually, Billy finally responded telling Steve to stop blowing up his fucking phone. 

Despite Steve’s fears of Billy’s attitude after that response, he was invited to a Starbucks in between their homes. Steve distantly recalled Max mentioning that she was envious of the studio apartment that Billy was renting over a storefront. How privileged was he that he couldn’t imagine having the same room functioning as the bedroom/living room/public space? 

Billy was already there when Steve arrived. He was sipping a green frappucino and staring down at his phone. 

The last time Steve had seen Billy even in passing was the month before during the Hopper family’s Fourth of July party. He was even more gorgeous than Steve remembered even looking a little grimey like he’d come straight from work. 

“Hey,” he approached the table, trying to smile when Billy’s blue eyes snapped up. “Thanks for meeting me. Mind if I grab a drink real quick?” 

“Depends, pretty boy,” Billy leaned back, smiling in that special way that gave Steve a major sexuality crisis in high school. “Why did you ask me out?” 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Steve whipped his head around as if anyone else cared about the two of them meeting up. No one was looking. He sat down heavily and sighed. “I’m…I have a favor to ask. But I kind of wanted to ease into asking.” 

“Interesting,” Billy drawled. “What could ‘King Steve’ possibly want from little ol’ me.” 

“I’m almost thirty, Billy. Please don’t call me that.” Steve looked down at his hands, maybe this was a bad idea. There was no way Billy would agree to being a donor. 

“Look Harrington, I’m leaving in five minutes so spit it out.” 

“Oh come on,” Steve whined, bouncing his leg. “It’s not the sort of thing you just spit out!” 

Billy slurped loudly at his drink. “You want me to murder someone?” 

“Obviously not. Kind of…the opposite?” Steve winced when his voice went squeaky toward the end. He cleared his throat, deciding to continue because Billy had wrinkled his nose. “Okay, so, I used to babysit a lot and I know how to take care of kids. I miss taking care of kids. And, well, I have money and time, right?” 

“Right,” Billy said blankly. 

“Right,” Steve nodded and took a deep steadying breath. “So I’ve decided that I want to start a family. With a baby. And me. Single.” 

Bringing up starting a family generally brought up the question of Steve finding someone to settle down with. The issue was that he didn’t want a partner or a romantic relationship; he didn’t feel that having a child should presuppose finding a mate.

“But I need a sperm donor and, uh, well,” Steve’s nerves were completely frayed at that point. Which was probably why he ended doing the saddest jazz hands. 

The blank look was gone and Billy’s eyes were practically sparkling, which Steve translated as trouble. He bit his lip, knee still bouncing noisily under the table. 

“A donor,” Billy practically purred. “You want me to get you pregnant.” 

When he phrased it like that, Steve couldn’t help but blush. He cleared his throat, wishing he’d just gotten a drink before bothering to speak to Billy so that he could sip it and buy some time. “Basically. You don’t have to sleep with me, the cup method works fine.” 

“And other than not-sleeping with you,” Billy sounded a little snotty. “What’s in it for me?” 

Only a little mocking was infinitely better than outright refusal. And he was getting to the part Steve was actually comfortable with. “$600 for each attempt,” he said. It was a lowball, but considering it was under the table, the supplemental income wasn’t half bad. “I’m tracking my cycle, so we’d only need to try about two days each month.” 

“And after?” 

Steve paused. “After inception I’ll give you an extra thousand.” 

“No, I mean once you’re pregnant, how does it work?” The serious look on Billy’s face was unnerving. Steve was briefly worried that he was about to say he wanted to stay in the picture. “You know how to take care of kids that don’t go home at the end of the day?” 

“Does anyone?” 

Billy’s face hardened. “You don’t just have a kid on a whim, Harrington,” he said lowly. “Can you actually take care of one for the rest of your life?” 

Living in a town like Hawkins and having a direct relationship with Max meant Steve was familiar with the Hargrove family history. How Billy’s mother abandoned him, how his father abused him, how long he’d lived in that toxic place before finally escaping and taking Max with him when it seemed Neil was turning on her as well. 

Despite how horrible that was, Steve couldn’t help the warm feeling in his chest. 

“I don’t yell, I don’t believe in corporal punishment, and I’m on book four of twenty on my parenting book reading list.” He didn’t add that they were all audiobooks because he had such a hard time reading. “I wouldn’t try to have a baby if I wasn’t ready to do everything I could to give them a good life.” 

Steve hoped his face was as open as he wanted it to be as Billy searched him. Of all the reactions he expected, this hadn’t been one. It made him feel better about Billy as a candidate. 

Finally, Billy slurped his frappucino again and grinned wolfishly. “When do we start?”

Continued on AO3

[miracleboiz]

Hectic

Life is hectic. People need to run everywhere and be in different places, no one ever just sits down and relaxes anymore. Kenma knows life is hectic, and with two boyfriends it means his life is twice as crazy. It also means it’s twice as loving and Kenma doesn’t mind waiting a little bit for those moments.

Words: 8.5k

Chapters: 4

Relationships: Kurokenyaku

Warnings: None

Read below or on AO3, Don’t forget to reblog!

Mornings are hectic. There’s no nice way to put it, no matter how many times Kenma thought it over. There’s no peaceful awakenings like there had been when his boyfriends were in college. Sometimes, if he was lucky, one of them would have the day off and no morning plans and he could relax with them at least while the other ran off.

Already he could hear their voices from the kitchen. Mori was arguing with someone, probably over the phone. Tetsuro was calling out jovially, the barest hint of Sawamura’s voice drifting through the wall. Their two cats were calling angrily for their food bowl, the last one on Kenma’s back. Docosahexaenoic just curled up tighter when Kenma shifted, uncaring about the bright white hair she was shedding or the claws in his skin.

Kenma sighed, pulling the blankets further over his head. He could still feel the warmth of Mori’s spot behind him, could smell the rich scent of Tetsuro’s fruity shampoo, and his chest ached. He wanted them here, with him.

Sure, he knew they had their jobs and his was easier. He did what he loved every day, with only occasional meetings for his company and the rest was done over Skype or email. Yet he wanted nothing more than to just wake up with his clingy and snoring boyfriends and lay with them.

“Kenma~” Tetsuro’s voice came through with a crack of the door opening. “Hey, hon. Get up, you have a meeting today at three and you need to eat.”

“No.” Kenma pulled the blanket down just enough to stick his tongue out and covered himself back up.

“I can tell you’re a very mature and grown up adult.” Tetsuro said dryly and Kenma immediately rolled himself tighter into the blanket, more then well aware that Tetsuro would rip the blankets off otherwise.

“Make Sawamura go to my meeting. He’s mature and grown up.” Kenma grumbled. It was the new year, which meant it was payroll time which meant he was going to have to keep himself from firing everyone who wanted to give themselves raises without offering raises to anyone else.

“Sawamura~ has to keep people safe in Miyagi, he can’t come all the way up here because a certain Kitten doesn’t want to get out of bed before noon.” Tetsuro hummed, fingers poking around Kenma’s wrapped form, looking for a weakness in the blanket. The cat hissed before submitting herself to Tetsuro’s petting and jumping off the bed to join her siblings.

“It’s seven am, the meetings not till three.” Kenma complained.

“Yes but Morisuke won’t be back until late and might have to spend the night at work-“ Tetsuro started, pulling back as the blanket monster started to wriggle free.

“Why didn’t you just say that?” Kenma sighed, slipping out of the blanket and reaching out for Tetsuro to take his arms and pull him the rest of the way from the bed.

“Why does that work? I have literally begged and pleaded and you’ve refused to get out of bed. I can’t believe this entire time Mori was your favorite.”

Kenma gave him the driest look he had in his arsenal. He didn’t stand even as Tetsuro had to shift his hold to keep him up at head height. Even five years out of highschool, Tetsuro’s bed head was still untamed and Kenma wondered if he’d be upset if they shaved his head in the middle of the night. Not too much, maybe an undercut… Or copying Yamamoto’s mohawk.

“I thought it was obvious from the beginning.” Kenma said, rolling his eyes at Tetsuro’s gasp of betrayal. Kenma finally pulled his legs under him, standing up and pulling away from his taller boyfriend and making his way to the dining room.

Morisuke had four papers in his hand, his phone pressed in his ear as he tapped away at his computer. His brow was creased in genuine annoyance as he growled out a response and tried to fight the cat food bag at the same time.

“I don’t care if I have the copies, you need to be more responsible with the paperwork or else it will be your ass I’ll be handing to Hanamaki Eiichi when he comes looking for someone to fire when we lose this case.” Mori glanced up at the sound of their footsteps. His gaze softened, lips twitching up into a gentle smile. He put the papers down and leaned up to press a kiss to Kenma’s forehead, arm moving up to lead the sleepy head onto his shoulder. He stroked through his long hair, tilting his head to kiss Tetsuro gently.

“Look. You take what I just emailed you. You print them. Get them signed and if you’re not done by the time I get there then I’d better not see you until you are.” Morisuke hung up without waiting, gently scratching at Kenma’s scalp. “I swear Sato-san lives to make my life hell. Go sit down Kenma, I’ll grab breakfast.”

Kenma groaned comically, lips twitching slightly at the chuckle he got from both of them. Tetsuro’s hands moved to his hips, leading him over to the table as Morisuke disappeared behind the wall. He returned a moment later, one plate held up where the curious cats couldn’t jump to try and eat it before Kenma could.

Tetsuro took the plate and slid it in front of Kenma before turning and tilting Morisuke’s chin up. Kenma leaned back against his chair, head on his hand as he watched, carefully feeding a piece of chicken to one of the cats. Kirby’s giant mouth reminded Kenma a bit of Lev, and he considered officially changing the Russian Blue’s name to Lev.

“I’ll bring dinner by later, ‘round seven. So let me know if you start craving anything. I gotta go already, school waits for no man.” Tetsuro hummed, kissing him lightly before Morisuke reached up and cupped his face. Mori didn’t let go, dragging out the kiss before finally letting him go, a smile on both of their lips.

“Bento is in the fridge, actually eat it this time. Don’t forget to text your dad and tell Bokuto we’ll see him next week and stop calling Sawamura just to harass him, he has enough shit to deal with.” Morisuke grumbled, straightening Tetsuro’s shirt. Tetsuro just laughed, kissing his head and moving closer to Kenma.

“Were you watching us kiss? You pervert.” Tetsuro gasped, snickering when Kenma swatted at his face. He caught his hand and pressed a kiss to the palm before leaning in and kissing him fully on the lips.

Kenma melted, kissing back and wanting the moment to last forever. Medical school was Tetsuro’s dream, well other than somehow making his own fungus that was a rainbow that he could name himself but Kenma wasn’t holding out on that dream coming true. He knew Tetsuro had to go, and yet... he kissed a little deeper, a little needier before Tetsu’s hands both folded over his own and he pulled away.

“I’ll see you later Kitten.” Tetsuro murmured, eyes gentle and warm as he leaned in to kiss his forehead once. He let go, looking like he didn’t want to leave anymore than Kenma wanted him to. Then he turned and disappeared into the kitchen, the sound of the fridge opening and closing before Kenma and Mori could hear him leaving. One cat watched him before turning back to her other humans, curious as to why they still weren’t being fed. Kenma didn’t really know how to explain that the other food bowls were filled it was just the one in the kitchen that was empty but he doubted they would care even if he could explain.

“You gotta go too?” Kenma asked, burying his chopsticks into his rice. Of course Mori did, but sometimes he’d stay at-least until Kenma was done with breakfast. Mori’s face dropped slightly, reaching out to cup Kenma’s face and gently cradle his cheek.

“Unfortunately. I’m sorry love. I’d stay home if I could, but this case is major. It took us two years to prove the cyber attacks came from our competitor and if we don’t get everything taken care of we’re going to be out who knows how much money and they’re just going to do it all over again. Once this case is over though, I am taking a vacation. Me and you, get to hang around and do absolutely nothing and mock Tetsuro for having to put effort into things.” Mori teased, thumb gently tracing his bottom lip before Mori leaned in and kissed him. It was shorter than Tetsuro’s, Morisuke actually had self control and wasn’t as easy to distract, but it was soft and Mori peppered three more across his cheeks and nose.

“I have to go, Kenma.” Mori murmured, fingers finally dropping off his face. He turned away, grabbing papers and closing his laptop.

He hesitated in the doorway and turned back to Kenma, looking at him affectionately. He tilted his head and smiled softly at him, a gentle one that had Kenma feeling like putty even in a chair. How long had they worked together for this? Mornings together and laced with love instead of heartbreak trying to stay apart from each other.

“I love you, Kenma. I’ll see you as soon as I can.” Mori said, then he was hurrying out the door, leaving Kenma alone with the cats. Two caterwauls rose up and Kenma sighed, burying his hand in the bag and pouring a small handful into the dish. Immediately all three of them rushed over... and then walked away.

Yes mornings were hectic. But he wouldn’t trade it for the world.

Chapter 2

“Kenma~ Kenma~ Kenma~” Tetsu’s voice came through the house, getting louder and dripping with annoyance though Kenma could easily hear the smile on his face. The sound of the refrigerator closing echoed through the house and Kenma turned to face his probably smiling boyfriend. Sure enough, Tetsuro was grinning when he poked his head into Kenma’s computer room.

“Are you aware,” Kenma drawled, leaning back in his chair to look at his boyfriend, “that just because you get more annoying does not mean I’m more likely to pay attention?”

“Weird, because I’m pretty sure I annoyed you into being my boyfriend.” Tetsuro snickered, a hyena like cackle coming from him before he was stepping up behind Kenma. He tilted his head and planted a kiss on Kenna’s forehead, sticking out his tongue when Kenma glowered at him.

“Perhaps you did.” Kenma rolled his eyes, making sure to accent it to annoy his boyfriend. Tetsuro didn’t seem to care, however, simply stepping more to his side and leaning down to kiss him.

Kenma grabbed onto his arm, fingers sliding over the rough material of his sweater, and used him to swing the chair around. He wrapped his legs around Tetsuro’s waist, arms reaching up and around his neck and resting them there as their lips brushed.

Kenma relaxed after a moment, pulling Tetsuro as close as he could and burying his face in his neck. The sweet scent of cherries still lingered on his skin from his late night shower and Kenma couldn’t help but nuzzle closer. Tetsuro grunted and put out a hand against the chair to stop himself from falling, but he didn’t push away. Instead, Kenma felt his nose on his hair gently brushing against the bleached strands moments before a gentle kiss was being pressed there.

Kenma missed this, missed having one of his boyfriends just an arms length away. He ached for the days of walking through the apartment to cuddle against one of their sides when it got to be too much to be alone.

He didn’t mind being alone, in fact he loved it. Leave him alone with his games and some food and he’d be fine for hours, content with his own company and the occasional text from Shoyo or Tora. It was the day after day loneliness that got to him, when he couldn’t remember the last time he’d spoken out loud or heard someone call his name. When his boyfriends rose before him and returned after he was asleep and all he had for proof of their existence was bentos in the fridge and well fed cats. When his skin prickled from lack of touch, craving the heat from another person and the gentle stroke from hands in his hair.

“You okay, kitten?” Tetsuro murmured softly, his free hand moving to run soothingly up and down his arm. Gentle kisses, barely brushes of lips against his scalp, peppered themselves over his head everywhere Tetsuro could reach without dislodging him.

“I’ll be fine.” Kenma muttered back, tightening his hold for a moment. He would be. In a few minutes he’d be perfectly fine again, ready for another week of stolen moments between the hours of solitude and work.

“Not what I asked.” Tetsuro pulled back slightly, feeling Kenma’s hold lessen in response. He ignored the legs around his waist and straightened, both hands moving to cup Kenma’s face. He brushed a few strands of hair from his eyes and gently smiled at him.

“ Are you okay? Right now.” Kenma melted into the hold, letting his body relax until Tetsuro was holding his face up. He understood why the cats did this now, it was very nice.

“Yeah… I am now.” Kenma said, lips barely moving enough to get the words heard. Instantaneously, Tetsuro’s face blazed red to the tips of his ears. Kenma’s lips twitched in a smile nearly giving him away but he managed to squash it, wanting to tease him a little longer.

“Keeeenma.” He whined, dropping his head down until their foreheads were pressed against each other. “Why do you have to do this to me?”

Kenma let out a soft snort, twisting his wrist so he could gently stroke the hairs on the back of his head. Tetsuro hummed, pressing harder against his forehead to encourage it.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“ I’m ridiculous? You’re the one being… being…”

“Being?”

“Geh. Forget it. All that matters is… that I love you. Even if you’re a big bully-bully.” Tetsuro said, rubbing their noses together. He pushed gently, knocking their heads together like an over affectionate cat and Kenma loved him even more.

He kissed him, gently scratching through his hair. His chest warmed as Tetsuro kissed back, leaning back in the chair until Tetsuro was pinning him down again. Tetsuro’s breath was hot against his lips as he pulled back minutely, teeth tugging at Kenma’s bottom lip before he was kissing the smaller man harder. His tongue slipped into his mouth and Kenma let out a soft groan, pulling his legs in tighter until Tetsuro was flush against him.

Then Tetsuro pulled back, breaking free of his hold easily and kissed his forehead. He grinned, managing to kiss his nose before Kenma came back to himself and swatted him away.

“Sorry kitten, but as much as I would love to spend the day with you, you have a meeting.” Tetsu reminded him, making Kenma groan again this time with frustration. “It’s until seven and we need to leave in the next forty five minutes and you’re still in your pajamas ... actually I think those are actually Mori’s pajamas that started out as mine.”

Kenma glanced down. He was right.

“What’s your point?”

“.... I…. don’t have one, but get up and go put clothes on. I have a job shadowing that starts at three so I need to drop you off a little early to make it on time. I should be off by the time you’re finished.” Tetsuro patted the legs around his waist, chuckling when they slid off with an annoyed groan. “C’mon baby, you love starting discourse at work and you know it.”

Kenma glowered at him, allowing himself to be harassed out of his chair. Just because it was true didn’t mean Tetsuro had to point it out.

He made his way to the bedroom, eyeing the three cats splayed out on the bed who opened an eye at his entrance. He debated joining them, snuggling under the blankets and letting them drown him in fluffy affection especially after someone decided to leave him hanging.

“Don’t you dare lay with those cats.” Tetsuro called and Kenma flipped him off despite knowing Tetsuro couldn’t see him. “And put down that middle finger, there are children in the house.”

“The only child here is you,” Kenma called back, ignoring the fake gasp of offence. The cats settled back down as he stripped and pulled his clothes back on, well aware they wouldn’t get any attention during this routine.

Kenma tugged on his work shirt, finishing the last button when he heard steps behind him. Strong arms wrapped around his waist and tucked him against a muscled frame. He leaned into it, head tilting back against Tetsuro’s shoulder.

“I’m proud of you.” Tetsuro murmured softly, affectionately nuzzling his cheek. “I know it’s not much comfort, but this will only be a little while longer. Mori-kun is almost done with this case and then his hours will be more stable and he’ll have time off. I have a little longer but once my internships are over and I’m a full pediatrician I can settle in the hospital and have a set schedule and we can be together more.”

“... Tetsuro.” Kenma said softly, turning his head to run his nose on the underside of Tetsuro’s chin. “It’s the most comforting thing of all. Knowing we’ll all be happy and together.”

Kenma leaned his head comfortably against his shoulder, smiling softly up at him. It would take time, but he was patient. He waited three years to get both of them within reach, he could wait a while more for things to finish falling into place. He didn’t care how long it took, as long as they got there.

He turned and reached up to cup Tetsuro’s face, his chest warm and feeling soft at the dopey affectionate look on Tetsuro’s face. Tetsu was a nerd, a big giant, adorable nerd and Kenma didn’t want to live a moment without him. Kenma leaned up and brushed his lips against his cheek.

“We have to get to work, stop distracting me.” Kenma drawled, letting go of his boyfriend and escaping the room. Tetsuro spluttered behind him, calling Kenma’s name in a drawn out cry before Kenma heard him cooing at the cats. He rolled his eyes, wondering how he’d managed to get stuck with this doofus for all eternity.

He grabbed his laptop bag while waiting for Tetsuro to leave the cats alone, slipping into the game room to grab his phone and send a quick response to Shoyo. Apparently, he’d run into Oikawa again and Ushiwaka tried to arm wrestle both of them. If the photo was anything to go on, Atsumu had his hands full trying to hold Bokuto back while Shoyo was trying his best to get Kageyama to join in.

“Kenma?” Tetsuro asked, probably wondering if he ran off.

“Sorry, I’m coming…. Tell Bokuto to stop bullying Atsumu, I think his arms are going to fall off and if that happens Shoyo’s going to come bother me about it.”

“Shrimpcake is going to bother you either way. Is it even bothering when you prefer him to me?” Tetsuro hummed as if genuinely thinking it over as he tugged out his own phone and sent a message to Bokuto. Kenma just rolled his eyes at his words and tugged him out of his room, pushing him towards the door.

Kenma paused to dash into the kitchen and grab Tetsuro’s bento from the fridge where he’d put it after returning home. He pushed it into his chest with a half glare.

“You forgot to eat it again.” Kenma accused and Tetsuro’s cheeks flushed light pink.

“I was busy…” Tetsuro mumbled, looking partly ashamed of himself and Kenma sighed. Tetsuro had always been that way, no matter what he said about Kenma, when it came to being too distracted to eat Tetsu was a hundred times worse. If he got it into his head he had to finish a book or essay or quiz, he wouldn’t stop unless someone took away his pen and put chopsticks instead.

“I know, now eat. It’s only a twenty minute ride to my work and a ten minute walk to your hospital, so we have about ten minutes for you to eat. Less than that if you keep staring at me like a weirdo.”

“Kenma.” Tetsu breathed, hand moving over his heart. Kenma smacked it back down and shoved him towards the table. Tetsuro laughed and listened, unwrapping the bento and digging in with a hum.

Kenma leaned against him, waiting for the outcome of the impromptu arm wrestling match when a message came in from Kai. Kai was backstage with… Ushiwaka and Shoyo?

I think you should see this . Was Kai’s message, followed by another photo of a familiar taller man with dark skin and a buzzcut under a thick top of hair who was shaking hands with Bokuto. Atsumu was nowhere to be seen but Kageyama and Shoyo were both attempting to squeeze between Bokuto and the other guy.

I just wanted to see Silver Swan backstage, I wasn’t aware it was going to turn into a reunion. Kai sent another photo, this one a selfie with someone else Kenma recognized from Fukunaga’s posters. Semi Eita, lead vocals and song writer for Silver Swan and ex-volleyball player from Shiratorizawa.

I thought Hinata’s head was going to explode when he saw me and Oohira waiting back here for Semi-san. Apparently Oohira and Ushijima always come to visit Semi after a show, they’re quite sweet. I would say they remind me of you three, but no one’s tried to bite anyone yet (^-^)

Kenma rolled his eyes, removing his weight from Tetsuro as he finished his bento and went to lay the container in the sink.

You may act cute, but I know you’re evil Kai Nobuyuki . Kenma sent back, though he knew it didn’t mean anything. Kai was the sweetest person he knew, which was saying something because Kenma knew both Shoyo and Shibiyama.

If that’s how you want to think of it, I won’t argue. I have to go, I’ll try and keep Hinata out of trouble for you. Don’t tell Fukunaga, but I’m getting Semi to sign a bunch of merch for his birthday. I can say some of its from you if you’d like, I know you’re busy and the others have been working non-stop. Let me know if you have any free time this week or next, we can get lunch! (◠ω◠✿)

“If I didn’t love you and Mori,” Kenma said as Tetsuro looked up from tugging on his shoes, confusion clear, “I would marry Kai right now.”

“.... I mean, who wouldn’t? The guys like, an angel. And I know Shibiyama!” Tetsuro snorted, holding out his hand for Kenma to take as he shoved on his own shoes and let himself be led out the door.

Chapter 3

Kenma didn’t move as the house shook with the front door closing. His fingers slid over the controller, deftly moving his character behind a rock to avoid being seen. He glanced at the time, 3:18 a.m. The only one who would be moving around that early was-

“Kenma?” Mori’s voice whispered, scratchy with exhaustion before his head poked into the room. He glanced at the game on the screen, then Kenma curled up in his chair with one cat on his lap and the other on the top of the chair.

“No, I don’t see it.” Kenma said into his microphone as one of his co-op players called out to him. “Give me a second.”

Kenma flipped the switch on his head phones, turning to look at Mori better without losing sight of the game.

“Lev abandoned me for Kuro.” Kenma said, glancing forlornly at the spot the gray cat had vacated a few hours ago. Mori snorted, rolling his eyes.

“Stop calling him Lev, you’re going to confuse Tetsuro when the real Lev comes to visit.” Mori said, eyes moving from Kenma to the game curiously. “Midnight release? Mind if I sit in with you?”

Kenma shook his head. “Charity stream, making people pay to listen to screams.” He hummed, turning his eyes over to the couch as he flipped his microphone back on.

“Kodzuken? Are you playing with your cats while I’m dying? I’m deducting this from your pay.” Sandixie called into his ear, echoed by ArcadeFox.

“No I am not being distracted by my cats… You don’t even pay me… You don’t pay me either! None of you pay me, go away or I’m leaving you all to die.” Kenma winced as three screams echoed in his head set as his team members found themselves being chased. “That’s why you don’t fuck with me… dammit now I have to bleep that out… I hate editing streams, you all suck.”

Morisuke laughed softly, careful to keep his voice too low to be picked up by the microphones. He made his way towards the couch, scooping up the orange tabby from the back of Kenma’s chair. Carolina Reaper meowed pitifully before Morisuke sat down and lowered him into his lap. Immediately the cat snuggled up, purring loudly at the presence of her favorite human.

Kenma glanced back at him, watching Mori’s eyes droop and sink before flashing open again. After a moment Mori noticed his gaze and stuck out his tongue, fingers buried in Reaper’s fur.

Kenma hummed, turning back to the game and heading away from the stalking Mike. He turned behind a house, pausing his movement to look up at his struggling companion, Zebstrikah. Through the headset he could hear complaints and the other two players laughing.

“Now, next time you want to harass me remember, I can and will leave you to die.” Kenma purred, then tapped the button to help the character down to his feet. “I’ll distract him, he’s about to hit stage three and I’m the only one of you who hasn’t been hooked yet…”

Screams erupted from his headset as Mike appeared behind them, scaring the rescued Zebstrikah. Kenma sighed, shaking his head and running his character towards the killer just as the music hit. Like he thought, the other player took the bait and downed him, quickly hanging him on the nearest hook and letting the other player go free.

“The things I do for you people.” He grumbled, gently flicking Docosahexaenoic off his lap. The white cat hissed as she landed, flicking her black tipped tail and strutting out of the room to join a less moving human. Sighing and keeping his eye on the screen so he could see who was coming to save him, Kenma stood up and moved the chair away from him and made his way to the couch.

He was free a second after making himself comfortable and quickly turned to run in the other direction, hiding away in a dark corner and healing himself before making a beeline towards the last generator they needed to get done. From the sounds of it, Zeb was getting hooked again, but it was his third time. No use saving a dead man. Morisuke shifted until he was leaning against him, easily falling into place as the screen lit up with the finished generator, two orange lights in the distance showing where both exits were.

“I should have played Monster Hunter,” Kenma sighed, listening to the frustrated shout of “Oh come on! A Mori?! Really?!” as one of his companions died, Sandixie if his cursory glance at the bottom left of the screen was any indication, though he was more focused on opening the exit door. “Then I would be able to play in peace .”

“You don’t talk enough as it is Kodzuken, your fans would fall asleep if you played alone.” ArcadeFox chirped into the microphone, loud enough for Mori to hear and nod in agreement despite Kenma’s glower of annoyance.

“I talk enough… Also Mike’s here at my gate, hope you know where the hatch is.” Kenma’s voice was almost sing-song as he crossed the border to freedom.

“SON OF A-” ArcadeFox cut himself off with a yelp as he ran straight into the killer on his way to the exit Kenma had opened, the game quickly ending with Kenma as the only survivor.

“Oops.” Kenma snickered, stretching. “I can’t believe we still have two more hours of this stream.”

“Let’s do it for charity,” Zebstrikah mocked, “It’ll be fun Zeb, so much fun. No one bothered to mention it’s the most terrifying game ever!”

“It is not, you’re just a baby.” Sandixie snorted and Kenma let out a snort.

“He’s not wrong, you are the biggest baby.” Kenma said into the microphone, flipping the switch to turn it off while waiting for the game to find another killer for their group. He turned to Morisuke, nuzzling his temple.

“You sure you don’t want to crawl into bed with Tetsu? He has Doco and Kirby.” Kenma murmured softly, one arm moving to slide small fingers through Mori’s hair. “And he won’t be talking like I will.”

“No, I want to hear you talk. I miss your voice.” Morisuke said softly, eyes already closed at the gentle stroking of his hair. Kenma’s chest bloomed with warmth as his face turned red and he was suddenly grateful he didn’t have a camera on him right then.

“Why don’t you lay on my lap then, c’mon, you can rest while I play.” Kenma scooted further down the couch and carefully directed Morisuke’s head to his lap and waited until his feet were comfortably on the couch before returning to the game. Still another thirty seconds. He flipped on his microphone.

“Hey, do you think people would pay more to watch Zeb’s face when he gets attacked?”

Kenma slid out from under Moriske to turn off the system as the charity stream finally came to an end, humming softly as ArcadeFox chattered in his ear.

“You’re really ending the game already? Usually you’re the one streaming for another few hours, you feelin’ okay?”

“Yeah, my boyfriend got home from an eighteen hour day and I have to make sure he takes care of himself. Otherwise he’ll drag himself into work again and work himself to death.”  Kenma sighed, looking fondly over at the passed out lawyer.

“Uh… Kodzuken… we’re still live.” Zebstrikah coughed into his ear. Kenma’s face warmed as he realized he’d just accidentally outed himself to the entire internet. Well…

“This is my last stream, goodbye forever, all of you.” Kenma groaned, face palming. That was great. Actually, he supposed it didn’t matter, he doubted he would actually lose many viewers and would probably gain some by being out and even if he did, he made enough money from his company to be perfectly fine.

“Don’t worry Kodzuken, we still love you, forever and ever.” Sandixie laughed as Kenma hovered his hand over the exit button.

“It’s still embarrassing… I’ll see you guys later, bye.” Kenma mumbled into the microphone before turning it off completely. He sighed and leaned back, letting his spine crack as he tried to work through what just happened. After a moment he shoved the thoughts away, well aware he couldn’t do anything about it now.

He let his gaze travel over the room, sliding over Morisuke’s frame as the shorter man curled around Reaper and Kirby started to climb his way onto Morisuke’s hip and lay as spread out as he could. Kenma stepped closer until he could kneel beside the couch and gently stroke through Morisuke’s hair, leaning in to press a kiss onto his forehead.

It had taken Kenma a while to admit it, but he couldn’t help but be more physical with Morisuke. With Tetsuro it was different, they knew each other so well  that Kenma could show his love in smiles or actions or even in calling him out on his nerdiness. But Morisuke… Being so close to losing him not too long ago just made Kenma want to hold onto him until Morisuke knew beyond a doubt that Kenma loved him, would continue to love him, wanted him around.

Kenma and Tetsuro were a rhythm written for each other, crafted to complement and support. Morisuke was a later addition to their rhythm and Kenma knew Morisuke felt that bridge was sometimes too big a gap but Kenma could never go back to just him and Tetsuro. Morisuke was the heartbeat to Tetsuro’s spine and Kenma’s brain, an integral part of who they had become.

“Kitten?” Morisuke mumbled, breath ghosting along Kenma’s neck. His eyes still weren’t open as he mumbled the nickname again and Kenma kissed his forehead again.

“Keep sleeping, I’ll be right back.” Kenma murmured, watching Morisuke’s shoulders go lax as he fell asleep again.

Kenma straightened and moved back to his feet, slipping into the kitchen and flipping on the rice cooker. If he was up, he might as well make breakfast for once.

He debated on waking Morisuke up, happy to see him sleep peacefully for once instead of tossing and turning and searching for a few minutes of restfulness. Kenma sighed, leaning down to push Morisuke’s shoulders gently. Morisuke hadn’t eaten, Kenma had to make sure he did, after all his boyfriends both went out of their way to make sure he had eaten all the time.

“Mori? I have breakfast ready.” Kenma said, laughing when Mori tried to swat him off but couldn’t move his arm far enough. “I made bacon.”

“...Not fish?” Mori hummed, cracking open an eye. Kenma wrapped his arms around Kirby, letting the cat shift until he was hugging Kenma’s neck in a move Kenma still wasn’t sure how Tetsuro had taught him.

“No fish, if Tetsu wants to cook himself fish he can but I won’t do that.” Even Kenma knew Tetsuro ate way too much fish and it was probably his way of pushing his agenda that fish is better than meat.

“Thanks Kenma.” Morisuke mumbled, hand dropping onto the carpet and eyes sliding shut.

“Should I bring it in here?” Kenma asked after a minute passed, curious if Morisuke was even still awake.

“Am.. I not moving?”

“Not even a little bit.”

“Son of a…” Mori sighed, sucking in a breathe before opening his eyes and sitting up. Reaper jumped off, pouting up at them before flicking her tail and walking out of the room, probably to stare at the food bowl and hope someone gave her a treat.

Kenma held out one of his hands, the other cradling Kirby, and took Morisuke’s and twined their fingers together as he pulled him up. Mori’s face pinkened when he realized Kenma wasn’t letting go but he just gave him a fond smile and allowed himself to be led to the kitchen and sat at the kotatsu.

“You’re being clingy.” Morisuke commented, not an admonishment, if he thought it was bad he would have told Kenma to stop doing it. It was a comment, especially when Kenma pouted at having to release Morisuke’s hand in order to hold the chopsticks. Kenma waited until he was nearly finished eating before answering.

“Well, I just outed myself to the entire internet as gay, and also you’re like a heater and my hands are cold.” Kenma said, finally letting Kirby go free in order to shove both hands under Mori’s shirt. Morisuke jolted in surprise, the bacon slipping from his grip.

“Outed yourself- are you okay?” Mori put the chopsticks down but Kenma just shrugged. He shifted until his feet were sticking out from under him instead of sitting properly on the cushion and could heat up quickly. He snuggled against Mori’s steady side, pulling the blanket a little higher up so they could both be comfortable and give Kenma time to think of a response.

“I’ll be fine. I just forgot the stream was still live and mentioned my boyfriend, you. It was a surprise and I’m… trying not to worry about it. I mean, logically I know that I probably won’t lose viewers and will actually probably get more and that I have more than enough money if I get suspended… But I never really ever meant to come out and I just hope no one figures out I mean you or Tetsu, I don’t want to put your jobs at risk.”

Morisuke’s arm wrapped around him a moment later, his free hand moving to tilt Kenma’s head up. Morisuke’s hands were warm as his brown eyes searched Kenma’s for any sign of upset or panic.

Strangely enough, there wasn’t any. Thinking on it, Kenma knew his highschool self would have cancelled his account and hid under his blanket until Tora or Tetsu came to drag him out. It’d been a long while since then and part of Kenma still wanted to hide himself but a stronger part, the side that had grabbed both Tetsurou and Morisuke and held them together, refused to let himself be shamed for what he was. He wasn’t a child afraid of rejection anymore, he was an adult with his own house, friends who didn’t care about his sexuality, two boyfriends who were amazing in so many different dorky ways, and more than enough money to live his life without any homophobic viewers.

Kenma tilted his head, bumping their noses together as Morisuke’s face softened and he tugged Kenma into his lap. Morisuke nuzzled against his back, pressing a kiss down and trailing a few more over his neck and jaw before finally resting his chin on his shoulder. Kenma shivered slightly as the breath rolled over his ear before wiggling to get more comfortable.

“Kenma, don’t worry about us. Hanamaki-san wouldn’t fire me for being gay, he already knows Sakusa-kun and Issei-kun are and he doesn’t care. As for Tetsuro, I highly doubt he hasn’t already told multiple people because he loves talking about you and he would rather be out then struggling with a homophobic boss. He’ll probably just have to be careful not to let the patients’ parents know and he’ll be fine… Then again… He loves talking about you.” Morisuke hummed, nuzzling Kenma’s cheek obnoxiously as Kenma groaned. He’d definitely been living with Tetsuro too long.

“Don’t remind me. I’m starting to think he might be in love with me.” Kenma sighed, fluttering his eyes purposely at Morisuke as he picked up the chopsticks and snagged a piece of rice to feed him. “What are we going to do if he confesses?”

“Mm… I suppose we could always kick him out.. Maybe give him a chance? He is attractive…” Morisuke hummed, taking the bite and kissing Kenma a moment later. Kenma smiled softly, the corners of his mouth just barely lifting as he kissed back, leaving a teasing nip on his lip as he pulled back.

‘Yeah but all those cat puns… Are they worth it?”

“Oh that is true… and his bedhead is the worst… If we kick him out, then at least Doco will go with him and stop being a bitch-”

“I cannot believe you just said that about my princess.” Tetsuro gasped, said cat curled in his arms with her usual grumpy scowl on her face. He was only half hidden but easily seen in the doorway from the reflection on the TV.

“I can’t believe you just sat there watching us, you pervert.” Kenma said, not even bothering to look back as he picked up another bite and fed it to Morisuke.

“I can’t believe he was more offended about the cat than his bedhead.” Morisuke said, leaning on Kenma again and nuzzling him affectionately.

“No I can, we all know he fails the mirror test.”

“Oh true, failed the one test Lev can actually pass.”

“You two are the worst boyfriends, Bokuto wouldn’t do this to me.” Tetsuro whined, making his way into the dinning room and taking a seat on the other end of the kotatsu.

“Keiji would.” Kenma said, reaching over to grab the bowl of bacon before Tetsurou could.

“Keiji would.” Morisuke agreed, taking a piece as Tetsu groaned.

“You two are the meanest people ever… Are you leaving me already?” He pouted when Mori finished the rest of his bowl. Kenma and Morisuke both stuck out their tongues, grabbing the dishes and making their way to the sink. Kenma returned a moment later as Mori washed them out.

“Mori just got home a few hours ago, and I was doing that charity stream. I’m keeping him at home today.” Kenma said, leaning down to kiss Tetsuro’s pouting face and pat his head teasingly.

“You two need to sleep more, doctor’s orders.” Tetsuro said, poking Kenma’s side and snorting when he got slapped away from the ticklish area. He grabbed Kenma’s hand and pressed a kiss to his palm, leaning backwards to snag Morisuke as he tried to sneak past. He tugged the shorter man closer until Morisuke gave in and kissed him.

“Sure thing, Dr. Bed Head.” Kenma sighed, grabbing Morisuke’s hand and tangling their fingers together.

“Do you know what the word respect means Kenma?” Tetsuro asked good naturedly, watching them head to the bedroom. Breakfast would be quiet this morning, but at least he would know they were getting enough rest. He glanced down as his lap got heavier, Kirby’s mouth already hanging open and ready to yowl, it wouldn’t be quiet after all.

“Nope.” Kenma called, holding out his middle finger before Morisuke pulled him down the hall with a laugh.

“You can be such a brat.” Mori laughed, face bright even with the dark lines under his eyes. Kenma fell back on the messy bed and pulled him over. He smiled up at the amused face and leaned in to kiss him.

“You love it.”

“That’s not the point.” Mori pointed out, smiling softly and kissing him sweetly. Kenma melted before finally pulling away and sliding under the blankets, moving to the middle so Morisuke could move in behind him.

Strong arms wrapped around him, Morisuke’s face tucking itself behind his back as they got comfortable. Kenma tugged the blankets up further, listening to Morisuke’s breathing until it finally smoothed out and he knew his boyfriend was asleep. Then he finally relaxed, drifting off.

Chapter 4

Kenma woke up alone. The blanket behind him was cold, though Kirby was doing his best to warm up Kenma’s head as he licked at his hair.

Kenma shifted, leaning up to glance at the clock against Kirby’s mewled wishes. Six in the afternoon blinked on the alarm clock, he’d slept for nearly twelve hours.

He sat up more, reaching up to scratch the tangles out of his hair. Hopefully Mori had probably managed to get four or five hours of sleep before waking up, he was never able to sleep in. He looked around the room, wondering if Tetsuro was passed out on the floor somewhere when a voice came from the kitchen followed by a laugh. Kenma slipped out of the bed, padding towards the kitchen curiously.

Tetsuro was standing against the fridge, holding a bag of sugar above his head despite Morisuke’s growled orders. The med student just laughed and leaned down, making kissing noises and Mori let out a groan.

“You’re absolutely ridiculous.” Mori snapped but his glare softened as he grabbed Tetsuro’s shirt and pulled him down into a kiss. Immediately both of them melted against each other, laughing softly as they broke apart and Tetsuro bumped their foreheads together. Tetsuro tilted his head, stealing another kiss as Mori managed to get the sugar. Twice more, Morisuke kissed back before he finally turned away towards a bowl filled with peeled apples.

Kenma’s heart warmed at the sight, the gentle look in Mori’s eyes and the glee in Tetsuro’s. They way they leaned into each other without hesitance, moving around each other on instinct. Something that would have been impossible three years ago, but now was becoming an everyday occurrence.

“Hey Mori, try the stir-fry.” Tetsuro hummed, snagging a knife as he switched places with Morisuke to grab the cutting board. He pressed play on the speaker above the fridge and music filtered in, making Tetsuro wiggle as Morisuke laughed at him.

“Needs more flavor, tastes bland.” Morisuke said, gasping when Tetsuro stuck his finger in the apple pie filling.

“Needs more flavor, tastes bland.” Tetsuro mocked back, easily moving out of range of Morisuke’s kick before making his way back to his side to slice the meat. “What’s wrong with my sauce?”

“It’s sweet.”

“Oh so you mean it tastes good.”

“I mean it tastes absolutely terrible, who taught you to cook? Bokuto?” Morisuke laughed, bright and clear at Tetsuro’s mock gasp of insult. They leaned in together naturally, kissing before going back to slicing.

“How was school?” Mori hummed, easily dicing the apples and popping one into his mouth.

“Ugh, I was a practicum all day, which normally I love but it was Nishimoto-sensei today and that guy could put even Kai to sleep. I’m not even sure what we talked about, it’s just a fuzzy gray memory.” Tetsuro groaned, slicing through the beef before tossing it in the simmering pan.

“Oh that’s not worrying at all, I hope you’re not trying to become a doctor.” Morisuke laughed, shaking his head as Tetsuro stuck his tongue out at him again. He held up an apple bite and Tetsuro leaned in, snagging it with his teeth and chomping down on it noisily.

“Why must you bully me, why must you harass and demean and be supercilious and-”

“I love you,” Morisuke hummed without looking up from mixing the filing with the apples. A yelp slipped out from him as Tetsuro wrapped his arms around him and spun him around.

Tetsuro dropped him back on the ground and turned him so he could pick him up again and kiss him in the air. Morisuke’s fake anger rant was cut off and he laughed softly, reaching down to cradle Tetsuro’s cheeks. Both of them ignored the sugar on Morisuke’s hands as the smaller man wrapped his legs around Tetsuro’s waist and leaned down to kiss him, teasingly squishing Tetsuro’s cheeks together.

“I love you too.” Tetsuro said, tongue flicking out and catching a bit of sugar on his lip. “Oh, have you thought of adding salted caramel?”

“Hm? Oh no I haven’t… That does sound really good, I don’t think I’d need to change the recipe much for that… Craving caramel?”

“Oh, am I that obvious?” Tetsuro gasped and grinned when Morisuke kissed him again. “Cravin’ you too, Mori-kun.”

“Don’t be perverse Kuroo,” Morisuke admonished but his eyes softened as he rubbed their noses together. Another gentle peck landed on Tetsuro’s lips, slowly morphing deeper and slower as Tetsuro lowered him back to the ground. Morisuke’s fingers finally moved from Tetsuro’s face, leaving handprints of sugar that Morisuke couldn’t help but laugh at as he flipped on the water and grabbed a towel.

Tetsuro watched him, lips turned up in a soft smile as Morisuke cleaned his hands and turned back to him. The med student bowed down as Morisuke approached, letting Mori gently brush off the mess. Morisuke paused, gently stroking Tetsuro’s cheek.

“I missed you too, Tetsu.” He murmured, smiling at the dramatic gasp that broke from Tetsuro. “You’re a brat. Of course I missed you, I miss you even when you’re only away for a few minutes. I miss waking up with you when Kenma crawled into bed at four in the morning and we’d hug him until he whined and settled down to sleep. I miss going to the zoo with you to take pictures of owls to fuck with Bokuto. I miss coming home and watching tv together or brushing Reaper, or reading. I miss you Tetsuro, I love you.”

“Mori...” Tetsuro said, voice barely above a whisper before he leaned down and pressed a kiss against Morisuke’s temple.

“Mm, we should finish cooking before Kenma wakes up, he’ll be hungry.” Morisuke said softly, smiling up at him before finally slipping free and moving to grab the caramel in the fridge.

Tetsuro stepped behind him, humming along to the music as he leaned down. One hand moved to his waist before brushing along the edge of Morisuke’s hair and dropping a featherlight kiss against his skin. Morisuke shivered before his shoulders relaxed and he tilted his head, inviting more.

Tetsuro gave him what he wanted, kissing his neck again and again, pulling him closer as Morisuke put the caramel on the counter. He sucked lightly, just enough to make Morisuke gasp and groan his name softly.

“You’re a terrible influence, we have to cook.” Morisuke said, but he didn’t step away even when Tetsuro’s teeth scraped over his neck. He moaned softly, turning to wrap his arms around his neck when he caught sight of a blur.

“Tetsu! Cat!” He yelped and Tetusro spun, grabbing Docosahexaenoic as the cat landed on the counter and was already trying to eat the raw beef.

“No! Bad! Raw meat is bad for you, princess. I’m sorry baby.” Tetsuro cooed, dropping the cat back on the floor. Instantly the white cat spun and hissed, tail fluffing out before strutting over to Kenma and curling around his legs.

Kenma was doing his best to hide his laughter but it broke out when he caught sight of Tetsuro’s pouting face. Tetsu just let out a low whine, pointing at Kenma when Morisuke just rolled his eyes at the two of them.

“You’re cute.” Kenma purred, a slow smirk growing on his face when Tetsuro’s cheeks flared red and his tongue stuck out.

“Why does Kenma make you blush, but when I say I love you you just get handsy?” Morisuke snorted, raising an eyebrow at Tetsuro’s whine as he turned to look at his other boyfriend.

“I’m being harassed, it hasn’t even been a few minutes and you two are already double teaming me.” Tetsuro complained and both of his boyfriends rolled their eyes together. Morisuke grabbed the caramel and turned back to the pie filling, lifting the lid from the cooking vegetables.

“Might want to throw that meat in soon, otherwise they’re going to go soggy and be even grosser than your sweet recipe.”

“ You’re grosser than the sweet recipe.” Tetsuro mocked, spinning back to the meat and picking up the knife again. “Kenma, watch the cats.”

“Yes sir, captain, sir.” Kenma said sarcastically, bending down to stroke Doco’s fur as the cat purred loudly. After a few moments she finally relaxed and turned to walk down the hall away from the cooking.

A few steps further and Kenma stepped between them to the sink, flipping on the water and grabbing the brush. He started scrubbing at the dishes already used, grabbing the cutting board as Tetsuro finished and the mixing bowl as Morisuke did.

A hand descended on his hip moments before lips pressed against his cheek and the mixing spoon joined his dishes. A moment later his other side grew warm as Tetsuro leaned against him and nuzzled his forehead, knife being passed over with a kiss.

The kitchen was warm between the three of them, cats scared off with flicks of water from Kenma’s hands. They nestled together as the music rambled in the background, effortlessly switching between jobs and letting Tetsuro drag them into more than one dance. Laughter and sweet kisses filled Kenma’s awareness and he smiled to himself as he pulled the pie out of the oven, listening to Mori and Tetsu tease each other over movies.

Mornings were hectic and so were nights, but Kenma wouldn’t trade it for anything.

[mininky]

Meanwhile, Back at the Ranch

Summary: Changkyun has been in love with you for as long as he can remember, and he’s determined to make you finally stop looking at him as your little brother’s best friend and see him as a man. This is a story of love, scheming, and hijinks with the help of Changkyun’s friend and a bad date known as the Hannibal.

Pairing: College student! Changkyun x Noona reader

Genre: Crack, fluff, romance, smut, slow burn

Word Count: 19.5K (I really outdid myself this time)

Warnings: unprotected sex, fingering, public sex

A/N: This is dedicated to @mzpandylu because I just love making you suffer with me over this brat.

   Changkyun has always been too smart for his own good. For as long as he can remember he's been able to weasel his way out of all possible consequences for his varying shenanigans. One might think that now, as an adult, he'd finally outgrown this. But honestly, Changkyun isn't sure if 'adult' is an apt description for him when he's still living in dorms and barely holding down a work-study job. He's honestly not sure how the lab hasn't caught on to the fact that he sometimes makes acid that he's turned a profit on occasionally. But that's neither here nor there. No the main reason why Changkyun doesn't feel like he's really an adult yet isn't because he's still in school, or because he isn't really living on his own yet. No the real reason why he doesn't feel like an adult is because you don't see him as one. A fact that perpetually insults and aggravates him.

   There are some facts he's just accepted, no matter how much it annoys him. He can admit now that his parents and you will always see him as a snot-nosed brat. The former he can accept easily, it's the latter that makes him feel the rage of a thousand suns. Not that suns have sentient feelings, but Changkyun's rather fond of the whimsical folly in such an absurd statement.

   For as long as Changkyun has known you he's been head-over-heels in love with you. You had this aura to you, and no matter how many times he's tried to pulverize his feelings for you to a bloody pulp they find a way to resurface and grow stronger with even more wide-spread roots. It's been this way for as long as he can remember really.

   He first met you when he really was just a snot-nosed punk. He was all of six years old, the new kid in town. You were ten, the cute next door neighbor who tolerated him due to your mutual voracious appetites in books but mostly because he became fast friends with your little brother, Hyungwon, who was a year older than him but in the same grade. There were a lot of things he learned about you that summer, most importantly he learned that you had mastered the armbar already and had no qualms with using it to get revenge on Hyungwon for saving over your Pokemon Yellow file.

   Three years later you got your period for the first time, a moment that Changkyun has seared into his brain because he continued pestering you about how tampons were used to which you threatened to shove your history textbook up his ass. Even then, he knew that you really would throw down and he never brought it up again.

   Flash forward to his thirteenth summer, this is the first time Changkyun would realize that he was in love with you. That it wasn't just that he thought you were cute or the epitome of cool. No no, this was the beginning stages of puppy love. Although, at this point in his life he was less concerned with his infatuation with his best friend's sister and what his budding feelings meant and was more concerned with the fact that he sprung boners just from hearing you laugh. To his credit, that's a very common problem at that age. Unfortunately for him...he still pops random boners from thinking about you. It didn't help that by this age, you at 17 years old, had already started blossoming into your body, something that would take many more years for the same to happen to him. Not that he'd ever admit it to anyone, but he sometimes still jerks off to memories of you lounging around the pool that summer.

   When he was fourteen he finally started high school. It was the only year that he was able to attend with you, but that one year was magical. Thanks to your overprotective nature for your brother who would fall asleep standing up in between classes he saw you very often. You were also his ride to and from school. He had been shocked, and deeply offended, to find out that you weren't considered one of the cool kids at school. You stuck mostly to yourself, or to whatever book was closest to you. A sentiment that still relates to him. That year though you had somehow managed to get him access to his first ever party containing illegal substances.

   The party had been held at Wonho's house, a senior who was that dude. You know that dude, the one that everyone loved and either wanted to be him or wanted to bone him? Well, that was Wonho. Changkyun can still vividly recall wandering around aimlessly out of sheer boredom when he found you making out with a guy he was sure was bad news. Shownu. Shownu was already out of high school and living on his own. He could easily have picked Changkyun up by the collar and flung him to the opposite side of the room if he wanted to. But no, he was usually too busy boning you to acknowledge his competition.

   Changkyun was always quick to point out to everyone that would listen that he thought it was gross that a grown ass man was dating a high schooler. The problem with this logic, however, was that you had started dating him while you were both in high school. The other problem was that Shownu was an infuriatingly nice guy. It makes sense that Shownu would go on to be a firefighter while Changkyun was the guy you called if you wanted to find out how to breach a firewall or score an ounce or cheat your way through exams.

   Luckily for him, you would eventually see reason and breakup with Shownu. Unfortunately for Changkyun, the reasoning had nothing to do with some terrible heartbreak that he would fix for you and then the two of you would ride off into the sunset. Nor would the root cause be you one day waking up and realizing that your little brother's nerdy best friend was hot with his cracking pubescent voice and rampant acne problems. No, you would break up with Shownu because you were accepted at a university far away from your middle of buttfuck nowhere small town.

   This brings Changkyun back to the present. He had somehow landed in the same university that you were now an alumnus of. Hyungwon had barely scraped into it as well, a feat that no one has really been able to understand. (The truth is that Changkyun had helped him cheat his way into the school. But hey, that's what best friends are for, right?) He's been here for a little over two years now, and none the closer to finally getting into your panties. Not that he hasn't tried. Literally, everyone else knows that he would willingly give up an organ just to go on a date with you. Everyone, that is, except you.

   "(Y/N)'s inviting us over for dinner again tonight, you coming?" Hyungwon peers over his phone for a moment, cocking an eyebrow up at Changkyun before giving a sardonic laugh. "Who am I kidding, if you had the choice between winning a million dollars and just basking in my sister's presence you'd choose her. I'll never understand why."

   "Because she's hot." Hot isn't wholly accurate. It is but a mere fragment of you. Witty, intelligent, terrifyingly strong, adorable, sharp-tongued. But somehow, Changkyun has a feeling that his best friend wouldn't find this little 'crush' all that hilarious if he spewed all of that out on him right now. So he'll keep these thoughts to himself. Playing dumb isn't something Changkyun is fond of, but he is good at.

   "I'm going to tell her you said that."

   "Please, be my guest. We both know how it's going to end. She'll probably hit you so hard upside the head that you lose your few remaining brain cells and then say something like 'stop being a dumbass.'" Changkyun can't help but let out an exasperated sigh at the sound of Hyungwon's barking laughter.

   "Yeah, you're right. When are you ever going to confess?" Ah, that's the question. The greatest question currently revolving around their collectively shared brain cells. It's not from lack of trying, it's just that you stubbornly refuse to see him as anything other than your little brother's best friend. He hates the term friend zoned and is a firm believer that dudes who use it are boring pricks who just don't know how to say what they want. But Changkyun? Well, he's been banished to the brother realm, no matter how many times he's tried to rectify it.

   "I've tried. A million fucking times. You were there last week when I asked her to go to the movies with me and she was all 'you're just using me for concession stand money.' Or the time before that when I told her that her new dress would look better on the floor and she just socked me in the arm and told me it wasn't that ugly? Or how about the time-"

   "-Christ dude, I get it. You're making me all depressed over here and I need to get a nap in before we head out for dinner. And depressed naps are the least satisfying."

   "You literally just woke up from a nap."

   "Yeah, well, it was only my second nap of the day. We all know that I need a minimum of four to function. How do you think I got to be this handsome? Beauty sleep, my friend. You should think of trying it sometime. Maybe then your ugly mug will stop scaring away my sister." Before Changkyun can respond, Hyungwon is turning over and snoring.

   "...this isn't even your room. And that's my fucking bed you lazy jerk." For a moment Changkyun contemplates picking up his pillow and smothering his best friend with it. But he figures murdering your brother will most certainly cockblock himself for life. A fate that his mere existence might already be cursed to, but he refuses to give the world more reasons to stop his one-sided love from being reciprocated.

----------------

   He would like to lie and say he didn't fret many times over what to wear before seeing you for just a simple dinner. But the truth is rather obvious the moment you take a look at the floor of his dorm. He's sure his dormmate, Jooheon, won't be very pleased about this. At the same time, he's pretty sure he'll never piss Jooheon off as much as when he woke up in the middle of the night to find Changkyun screaming at his computer screen in nothing but his birthday suit. Apparently, most men aren't that comfortable seeing other dudes naked. Especially when they're volatility angry after losing a video game. Who would have guessed?

   On the trek over to your apartment, Changkyun did what he was best at; he got lost in his own head. Visions of you fluttered through his mind's eye. In this altered reality, Hyungwon was nowhere to be seen and certainly not snoring next to him in the passenger's seat. No, in this world you had invited just him to come up for an evening tryst. He pictured you answering in a long silk robe with lacey underwear peeking out where you had it loosely tied together. Just as he was about to enter your home in his vision he could hear your dulcet tones telling him-

   "Earth to Changkyun. Come in dork. Or don't, just stand out there smiling like an idiot for all I care. But I'm not waiting on you until the food gets cold." Changkyun blinked as he took in your visage, the real you not the fictionalized caricature in his head. There was no racy cheeky lace or silk in sight, instead, you were in a plain white t-shirt and yoga pants. The real kicker though was your face, your absurdly pretty face with a look plastered on that screamed 'stop testing my patience, dumbass.'

   "My bad I just got lost in thought I guess." He stares at you for a moment, praying that maybe if he looks at you at just the right angle for just long enough you'll finally notice that he's started bulking up, shedding what was left of his baby fat and then you'll jump into his arms in pure joy. Or lust. He isn't picky. Shit, he's too desperate to be picky at this point in his life.

   "Yeah, I kind of gathered that already. So...are you coming in or not? I made way too much spaghetti, so please grab a million bowls of it if you want." He walks slowly behind you as you speak, his eyes trying not to superglue themselves onto your backside. And oh what a magnificent backside it is. He could write sonnets about it. He's pretty sure that in high school he actually did. Note to self, be sure to burn any diaries containing incriminating evidence the next time I go home.

   When Changkyun rounds the corner of your hallway he sees that Hyungwon has already made himself at home, sprawled out on your couch with an absurdly large pile of pasta on the coffee table while he browses through Netflix. Typical. Changkyun pauses for a moment as he turns in the kitchen, watching with careful eyes as you fix your own plate before sticking a fork out at him.

   "Hey, you know how this works in my place. I'm not your mom, I'm not about to fix you a plate. So get to it buddy boy." There are a few facts in life that Changkyun has come to learn due to his infatuation for you. One, he's completely whipped for you and he's okay with that. Two, he's probably a glutton for punishment with a hardon for your trucker mouth and insults. But thirdly, and most importantly, underneath your tough hardened exterior, there's a heart of gold that's softer than Wonho's plushy pile even if you refuse to admit that to the public.

   "You got it, boss, I remember the rules. You only remind me every time I'm here." He tries and fails to fight a smile at the way you roll your eyes at him.

   "Was that sass I'm hearing? That better not be sass." You grumble as you pour on a disgusting amount of parmesan before joining Hyungwon on the couch, smacking his legs away when he tries to stretch them across you. The sight shouldn't be so heartwarming to Changkyun. But here he is, smiling like a doofus as he fixes himself a plate. Hyungwon, unfortunately, looks back with an evil grin slapped onto his face before he turns back around to face his sister. Changkyun knows that look all too well. Hyungwon is about to meddle. That's the last thing Changkyun needs. Not when things are going so well. Okay, they aren't going at all but not going at all is still better than you karate chopping his throat before telling him that you see him as just another little brother.

   "So, noona, I hear you've got a date tomorrow." Deep breaths Changkyun, don't let this get to you he's probably lying.

   "What's it to you? I feel like you want something out of this. You're up to something, brat. I can sense it." Fuck, that's a yes. You're redirecting it onto Hyungwon because he's right. Changkyun's known you long enough to know your tell. He's grown used to you dating, but for some reason he's even more unhappy than normal at hearing this news.

   "Can't a little brother just make sure his older sister isn't attracting some creeps?" Everyone in the room knows that Hyungown doesn't really care about that, he's a terrible liar and has a penchant for snooping when bored. It's a terrible combination to witness when it rolls out of control.

   "What'll you do about it? I'd have better luck with Changkyun protecting me than your frail ass. Shit, you could practically blow away with one strong gust of wind." Changkyun tries not to pout at this as he finally sits down, shoveling food into his mouth to stop himself from saying anything obvious or painfully lame. Like 'I'd protect you any day noona!' Yeah, no. He'd rather shoot himself than admit that to you. With how annoyed you look right now you'd probably shred his ass to pieces. A death that's honestly preferable to dying alone in his parent's basements with the feds looking for him. (He was voted most likely to have this happen to him in his senior year.)

   "First of all, rude. I mean you're right, but rude. Second of all, have you not seen Changkyun lately? He practically lives at the gym." Changkyun could fucking kiss Hyungwon he's so happy. It's only taken him over a decade to finally be a wingman. Changkyun glances over at you to see you squinting at him as if trying to size him up.

   "I guess." That's it?? You guess? Christ almighty he really is going to die alone. "Anyway, that's beside the point. You have nothing to worry about, I can handle myself just fine thank you very much. And don't think that trying to bring up my love life will get me off your ass on your grades. Are you still failing your math class?"

   "I'm passing." Barely. He's at a solid seventy. For now. But Chankgyun isn't about to rat him out, not when he finally tried to help. "Why don't you ever ask Changkyun about his grades? Get on his ass too!" Aaaaaand the wingman has left the building.

   "That's because I know Changkyun keeps up with his studies, unlike you." He watches a sibling's quarrel break out for the next few minutes before he finally decides to speak up.

   "So, noona...who is this guy?"

   "Nobody you know. And for now, I'd like to keep it that way. Not that you brats would understand, but I'm going through a dry spell and I'd like to finally get to an oasis."

   "Gross." Hyungwon fake gags, trying to scramble away when you smack him upside his head. "Ow, ow, stop stop! And hey, ow ow ow that's my hair, Changkyun can relate!" That seems to stop your attacks for a moment, your eyes narrowing on Changkyun as if trying to sniff out the truth.

   "You guys are in your college heydays, shouldn't you be getting laid all the time? And aside from that whatever happened to that girl? What was her name, Jessica? No Samantha? No wait..."

   "Apple. Her name was Apple." Hyungwon pipes in to save his sister from going down the list of conquests in the last few years. Listen, Changkyun was in love with you. That doesn't mean he didn't still make it a point to get laid sometimes. It's not like he's actually in a relationship with you. Unfortunately.

   "Christ I was way off. Anyway, yeah whatever happened to her? Did you guys break up?"

   Changkyun tries to shrug it off, but before he can answer Hyungwon is interjecting. "They were more like casual friends with benefits. Until she finally let him turn on the light one night."

   "She didn't let you bone with the lights on?" You whip around to question him, but once again Hyungwon steals the light.

   "Nope, anyway so he turns on the light and goes down on her and he says that he saw an-"

   "Okay, time to cut this off. I swore you to secrecy asshole, imagine how you'd feel if some chick was spilling to her friends about your junk?"

   "Wait, wait. What was wrong with her junk?"

   "Catch this, she had like, an elephant trunk for a clit. It was just long flaps of skin like a second labia attached there. He tried googling pictures to find anything like it, but nothing."

   "Holy shit, what did you do? Wait, wait no I don't want to know. I don't even want to think of you having sex, that's just gross." If Changkyun had any feelings left in him he's pretty sure he'd be hurt by that. But as it stands, he's grown numb to the hellhole that is this moment. He takes back everything he said earlier about Hyungwon, he wishes he had indeed smothered him to death with a pillow.

   "Gee, thanks, you two. Also, need I remind you Hyungwon, but making fun of people for things they can't control is mean."

   "Says the asshole who asked the poor girl 'what is that?'"

   "Is it possible that you just...don't know what a clit looks like?" Changkyun takes back all earlier statements on being numb because now he can feel annoyance and rage bubbling through his veins.

   "I know what a fucking clit looks like. It wasn't my first rodeo, okay." He tosses a pillow at Hyungwon when the screeching laughter becomes unbearable. Et tu, Brute? Et tu?

   "Okay, wait, I can't just hear elephant clit and walk away. I need more details." Changkyun sighs, caving into your puppy eyes like the sucker he is.

   "Okay, first of all, this never fucking leaves the room. I don't ever want to hear you guys bring this up to anyone else, it's not cool. It was just...giant. I'll summarise, she was taking steroids to try to keep up with the other gymnasts and there were some unexpected side effects."

   "Wait, steroids for gymnastics? Is that even allowed?" Changkyun just shrugs at your question, trying to mentally throw himself into a daydream where you don't question his sexual prowess or where Hyungwon doesn't bring up his worst sexual moment to date. "I have so many questions for her-" you throw up a hand at the glare Changkyun throws you, "-but I won't. Trust me, I wouldn't want some dude spilling the beans about me like that either. I feel like I have to go scrub myself clean from all this sin now."

   "Changkyun can join you-ow hey wait! I can't breathe!" It only takes you a fraction of a second to get Hyungwon in a chokehold and Changkyun just smirks at his misery. That little shit deserves it. He went from being the best wingman ever to the biggest fucking rat in just a few minutes. He probably should have expected that though.

---------------

   That night Changkyun tossed and turned, his brain swirling around too quickly to fall into a restful sleep. His thoughts kept returning to one particular moment with you years ago, shortly after he had entered high school. He had been "struggling" with his English class, and his parents had enlisted your help in tutoring him to get his C minus up to their expectation of straight A's again. It ended up being a win-win, as you were struggling a bit in your coding class and he was a young teenager who spent far too much time on his Myspace page, he was the perfect person to help.

    "Changkyun, you're overthinking this again. I need you to shut the fuck up for five seconds and listen to me: the essay topic is about why you think Victor created the monster. Not about Mary Shelly's fucked up relationships, stay on topic here." He watches you spin around in your computer chair a few times before throwing your pencil at his forehead. "Are you listening, dork?"

   He wasn't. It was really hard to pay attention to anything when you were looking at him like that. Plush lips. Soft thighs. Bra strap falling down on your left shoulder. You were a work of art aptly titled 'temptation.' "Yeah, I'm listening." He paused, rewinding his mental tape. Right, essay topic. Relationship. "They were kind of sort of lovers."

   "You aren't completely wrong, but the teacher is lame and will disagree unless you go hard on this idea. So why do you think that Frankenstein and his creation are lovers? Or at least, that there's a homoerotic subtext in their relationship?"

   "Well, Victor Frankenstein had to marry his, like, sister cousin right? But it's really obvious that he didn't love her, and not for the gross incest reasons but more because he wasn't into chicks. So he creates this monster, this absolutely hideous man in an effort to kill off his gay desires. Except it doesn't work. Because it feels like he and that one dude, Henry, are totally banging during the voyage. Frankenstein's creation is one big metaphor for his gay desires and that's why he refuses to name him and that's why he wants to kill him even though the monster has done nothing wrong really." Changkyun watches you light up, moving in closer and nodding along as he continues.

   "Exactly! You're a smart cookie, kid."

   "Don't call me kid. I'm not a kid, Noona." He wanted to scream when you rolled your eyes at him. He was fourteen, just four years younger than you. But in high school that made a world of difference, unfortunately for him.

   "You are a kid, twerp. Now back on topic, you have a clear thesis but you need to make sure your argument is strong. You need to back this up with as many quotes as you can. And all those weird relationships Mary Shelly had that you were talking about earlier? Well, use those too. Her life will help strengthen your argument. You need to stop looking at papers as these boring outlines that you just have to throw together. I want you to look at it like you're about to stand on stage and win an argument in front of the whole school. That's how you write a solid paper."

   Changkyun nodded quietly, still slightly offended that you had just called him a kid and a twerp just moments prior. "Hey, Noona? You're really good at this. Do you want to be, like, a lawyer or something?"

   "Ew, gross no. That sounds so stuffy and boring. No, I'm going to be a linguistic anthropologist. I read about it, and it sounds so cool. It's about studying language and cultures and stuff. You know the field is dominated by women? Isn't that, like, so rad?" You gave another spin in your chair before suddenly stopping and staring at him rather conspiratorially. "Words are really interesting. For instance, it's a fact that you're just a kid but you get really angry when I call you that. Why is that? Is it because you're placed in a category of submission and it's a reminder of your place on the hierarchy? Or is it because your teenage rebellion has started to kick in and it makes you resent authority figures?"

   "Isn't that basically the same question just reworded?" You cackle at his question but you don't answer him. He waits for you to finish laughing before speaking again. "Well, I think it's really cool that you want to do that. And I think you'll be great at it. Even if your theories are a bit half baked right now."

   "Thanks, Kkungie. I really appreciate that coming from you. You're like my number two supporter. Behind Shownu, of course." He realizes at that moment that he doesn't hate being called kid by you because of age hierarchies or whatever bullshit you just spewed. No, he hates being called kid by you because it's a glaring reminder that you're so out of reach. The ever unobtainable temptation. He vowed then that someday, he'd make sure you'd see him as a man.

-----------

   Changkyun was sick of cafeteria food and damn tired of making instant ramen in his dorm, so for a change of pace, he decided to meander away from the university and over to the nearest Mexican restaurant. It was a little more than he was comfortable with paying for tacos, but he figured that the salivation inducing pork belly would be worth it. He still had last night playing on repeat in his head, that look of complete and utter disgust on your face at the mere mention of Changkyun having sex. Okay, well to be fair it was actually a really gross subject. You just can't make elephant trunk shaped clits sexy. It's just not possible. Damn Hyungwon! If only he had kept his mouth running on about these sweet new abs. Maybe then you wouldn't have laughed your head off and told him that he didn't know what a clit is. He really wishes that he could have just said something cocky like, "I can prove to you that I do" but he knows that would have resulted in either an armbar or a chokehold.

   He's still ruminating in anger when he steps into the restaurant, waiting for the hostess to come around so he can pick up his to-go order he already placed. His eyes lazily scan over the restaurant until they stop on you. This time you're not in your usual home attire of couch-potato activewear. No, you've pulled out all the stops. Your hair is done to perfection, you have on a full face of meticulously applied makeup, and you're wearing a tight little black dress that hugs all your curves. Or at least the curves that he can see from your waist up in the booth. You don't spot him staring at you, thank god. His eyes quickly swivel to the back of the head of the guy sitting across from you.

   He can't see anything other than the back of his head, but he can tell something about this guy is off. Changkyun has known you long enough now that he can read your facial expressions like a book, and right now you're saying that you want to set yourself on fire so you can get out of the restaurant. Before he can make any rash decisions to rush over and play knight-in-shining-armor the hostess pops up in front of him.

   "Table for one?"

   "Oh, no, I'm just here to pick up my order to go. It's under Changkyun."

   "Okay, let me see if it's ready yet." He watches the hostess disappear before his eyes swivel right back to the booth. You seem to be making a break for it, running straight into the direction that he can only assume is the bathrooms. Or maybe you'll try to escape out of the fire exit. You do look desperate enough to try. He's about to make his way towards where you disappeared to when the hostess makes her prompt return with a bag of food. He hastily grabs it, thanking her before immediately heading off towards your general direction. It doesn't take long before he finds himself in the hallway directly in front of the women's restroom with you nowhere in sight. He has a couple of options. He could either wait it out or he could walk away. But something in his gut tells him that he needs to wait for you, that for whatever reason either there are no windows for you to crawl out of or you're trying to give yourself a pep talk into braving out a clearly shitty date.

   Very little time passes before Changkyun finds out that he made the right decision. You're glued to your phone as you step out, almost walking right past him before he calls out to you. "You need some help?"

   He watches you jump back slightly, almost tripping in your high heels when you turn to face him. He's hoping that he looks cool, leaned up against the wall with his arms crossed and his eyebrow quirked. He's guessing that with your deer in headlights reaction that he probably looks more lecherous than cool, unfortunately. "Christ, you scared the shit out of me. What are you doing here?"

   He waves his to-go bag for a second before nodding his head in the direction of your table. "You looked like you were praying that the earth would swallow you whole so you could get out of that bore-fest. Do you want some help?"

   "What do you mean help? I can take care of myself just fine." You sniff in indignation but you still haven't walked away just yet, and that tells Changkyun that your pride doesn't want to admit that he's right.

   "Listen, noona, you clearly don't want to continue that date. Tell me I'm wrong and I'll walk away. But tell me that you just need some help and I can weasel you out of the situation. You know I'm good for it." He tries to bite back a smile as you chew on your cheek while thinking over his offer.

   "Okay, so the dude creeps me out. There's just something off about this. I've met him a few times. He's a friend of a friend of a friend type of situation. We've talked a little bit after he hit me up on Instagram and he seemed pretty normal, right? But then we get here and he just keeps talking about my skin. About how much he loves my skin and how pretty it is and he keeps trying to hold my hand and like...rub my skin. It's fucking weird and I would rather be run over by a semi-truck than have to endure another one of his sweaty hand-holding moments. Just promise me this, you never speak about this to Hyungwon. I mean it. Boy's a fucking blabbermouth and I don't want to hear about this for the next ten years."

   "Deal." Changkyun sticks out his hand for the two of you to shake on it before he continues speaking. "I have a plan, just go back to the table and act like everything is fine. I'll be over in a minute."

   "If that motherfucker tries to hold my hand again before you get back I swear to god-"

   "I've got this. Just trust me already." He gives a couple of pats to your head before pointing back to your table. "Come on, go. I'm sure he's probably already convinced you're taking a massive shit or something."

   You scoff, muttering something about how he's such a brat as you finally wander back. Now it's time for him to set his quickly thought up plan in motion. He gives it a few moments, scrolling through Instagram before finally making his entrance. He imagines badass escape music playing in the background, visualizing himself as Jason Bourne or Tom Cruise or that dude from Prison Break. Except in this scenario, he's leading someone else to their freedom. A man on a mission. As he rounds the corner and nears your table he can see the villain. He's not ugly, but he's shooting way out of his league aiming for you. The dude's a solid five, plain and boring in every single aspect.

   "Did your mother age well? Because I can see skin like yours as aging flawlessly. It really is perfection. How often do you see an aesthetician if you don't mind me-"

   "(Y/N)? Is that you? Holy shit, it is you. Baby, I've missed you so much. I'm so sorry, I know I fucked up but I'd do anything to get you back. Anything, I mean it." He watches your eye twitch for a moment, a look of pure annoyance stealing over your features before you break out into impromptu theatrical genius.

   "Oh my god, Changkyun I...I never expected to see you here. I...I don't know what to say. It's been so long. I mean, the last time I saw you was when I went back home to see my parents and you were hooking up with Apple, the local juice stand girl whose parents oddly enough owned an orange grove. We don't even have the right climate for an apple orchard. She was the forbidden fruit and yet you took from her."

   "Yeah, well I guess Citron makes for a weirder girls name so they ended up deciding on Apple. But I swear baby, I'm done with that. I wish I had never met her. I'd give up my spleen just to try to make you smile again."

   "Excuse me, but we're in the middle of a date."

   "Oh really? I'm...I'm so sorry it's just that-" Changkyun slides into the booth next to you, grabbing your hand as he speaks, "-you see sir I've always been in love with this girl. Ever since the first time I saw her back on her daddy's ranch I just knew she was the one for me. The way she used to light up as she collected all those eggs-"

   "-Excuse me, but I believe I just said we're on a date. If you could please let go of her hand, you're tainting her perfect skin." Holy Christ, this dude's probably a serial killer. Changkyun is expecting him to break out into Hannibal Lecter quotes any moment now.

   "I'm...I'm sorry. I guess...I guess I can't take back what I've done. I was terrible to you, (Y/N). I'm so sorry. I wish I could get another chance, but I can see I'm not wanted here." Changkyun hangs his head sorrowfully, giving a small fake sob before flinging himself out of the booth. "But I promise you, I would treat you right. This city slicker boy don't know how to handle a girl like you-"

   "Okay that's enough buddy, move along."

   "Well excuse me, but I'm trying to have a meaningful last goodbye with the woman I love. Have you no heart, sir? I just...I just wanted to make my peace. Try one last time. Love is a beautiful thing and I know that I ruined it but gosh darn it how can I walk away from the best yodeler I've ever met?"

   "Nobody but my Daddy has ever thought my yodeling was any good. You really mean that Kkungie?" You stand up dramatically, clutching onto your chest as you try to move closer to Changkyun but your date quickly interjects.

   "Woah, woah, woah. I didn't sign up for this, come on man just let me finish my fucking date in peace. Go home, no one wants to hear your bullshit about orange or whatever her name was and her fucking yodeling."

   "Don't you badmouth my yodeling, Jason! It has a special place in my heart! Come on Changkyun, let's go." Changkyun grins when you grab his hand, but before he can turn around and ride off into the sunset with you he gets cold-cocked by your creepy skin loving date. Right in the jaw.

   "What the fuck dude?" Changkyun stands in between you and the guy, cracking his neck and rubbing at his already swelling jaw before staring him down. He's slightly taller but certainly lighter than Changkyun. "I'm going to give you a few seconds to walk away before I destroy your face to the point that even your own mother won't want to look at you."

   "Do you really think that you can take-" Changkyun doesn't wait for him to finish before punching him square in the face, a startling crack wringing through the air when his knuckles make contact with Jason's nose.

   "Okay, time to go. Let's move it." Changkyun wraps his hand back around you, trying to pull you forward only to find you stationary staring in shock at the scene that just unfolded. "Christ, we need to move it (Y/N)." He waits only a few more seconds before throwing you over his shoulder. "I am not waiting around for cops. I have an ounce on me and I really don't need that kind of stress in my life."

   He books it out of the restaurant as fast as he can, pushing past the confused hostess and ignoring the shouts of whatever his name was coming from behind him. Good god do you owe him now. His jaw smarts, his knuckles are bruised, and he's currently carrying you over his shoulder while trying to run to his car as fast as possible. If this doesn't prove that he loves you, he doesn't know what will. Especially when you consider that he left his fucking tacos at your booth. Well, this is just shaping up to be a fan-fucking-tastic evening.

   He throws open his car door, setting you down on the ground of the passenger side before quickly jogging back over and slamming into the driver's side. "Noona, what the fuck, come on! I don't have all goddamn day!" The sound of Changkyun screaming seems to break you out of your dazed trance, quickly fumbling into the seat and closing the door as he peels out of the parking lot.

   "Drive to my place first please."

   "That was the plan. Also, why are you saying please? This isn't a fucking uber dude."

   "Can't I be polite sometimes?" Changkyun just snorts at that, tapping his fingers on the wheel in impatience when he pulls up to a red light. "Hey, um. Thanks by the way. I mean, I feel there were smarter ways you could have gone about that than pulling the 'old flame' routine out of your ass but I really appreciate your help."

   "Yeah well, I'm not the one who came up with the fucking hick routine. I mean really, Apple? Forbidden fruit? What the fuck was with that?"

   "I kind of just wanted to see how you'd run with it. I wasn't expecting you to go full force with it. Now I'm going to have to retire my yodeling career before I could even start it."

   "It's a shame, I know your daddy was so proud of it."

   "Oh shut it, smart ass." He glances over to see you staring out the window, brain going a million miles a minute as usual. That's how you've always been, in a state of constant thought. He's pretty sure that beyond the immense sexual attraction he has to you the real reason why he always gets pulled into your gravitational force is that you're much like him in that sense. Always trying to see twenty steps ahead, find every possible angle and solution and rework a problem over and over until you see every single way it can all go wrong. It's that same exhaustive thinking that helped you to graduate early and top of your class not just with your bachelors but with your masters just a year after Changkyun started University. It's what makes you uniquely you, but also oddly relatable. You're one of the few people that can keep up with Changkyun, perhaps even remain a few steps ahead of him at all times.

   "You're clearly thinking about something. Do you want to talk about it?"

   "Why did you help me?"

   "Because you're my friend."

   "I mean, yeah. But you just got decked in the fucking face and went on a tirade about your love of my yodeling just to get me out of a shitty date." Changkyun parks in front of your apartment as you speak, a small silence settling over for a moment when he turns off the car.

   "Listen, I wasn't about to just leave you alone with Hannibal for him to cut off your skin and eat it like pork rinds, okay. Friends help friends." He's not entirely lying. He's not telling the whole truth either, but he's hoping it'll be enough to get you off his back. He can tell by the way the gears inside your head are grinding that it's not enough to satisfy you, but for whatever reason, you leave it be for the moment.

   "Well, come on." You climb out of the car, staring at him when he stays stationary. "Are you going to let me put ice on your jaw or not? Besides, you never did get a chance to eat those tacos, at least let me feed you. I think I've got some leftovers you can eat."

   "As long as you don't feed me ramen, I'm fine with that." He follows you quietly to the apartment. Should he have just finally admitted his unrequited love to you then in the car? Do you know and you were just waiting for him to say something? Or do you have an inkling, perhaps suspecting and you're trying to figure out what exactly is going on?

   "Dude, why do you always freeze at my door?" Changkyun blinks, realizing you've already unlocked the door and the look on your face says that the two of you have been standing there for a hot minute.

   "Lost in thought?"

   "What's new." You sigh, ushering him inside before locking the door back behind you again. He stands awkwardly in your kitchen as you rummage around in the freezer before finally pulling out a bag of peas and walking back over to him. "This is going to be cold."

   "Gee, really? I thought it would be scorching hot, having just come out of the freezer and all."

   "Can it, mister. This is my house, which means that I'm the one that gets to be the sarcastic brat. Not you." He snorts in response, flinching slightly under the feeling of the cold bag pressing against his swollen skin. He tries his best to look straight ahead, away from your prying eyes. But try as he might, he's weak to your magnetic gaze. For a moment it's like the world stops, it's almost as though for the first time you're really seeing Changkyun. Not your brother's best friend. Not the snot-nosed brat next door. Not some questionable chemistry major. For once you're looking at him like the man he's become. He can see it in the spark in your eyes, hear it in the hitch of your breath, feel it in the way your hand shakes slightly while trying to hold up the bag of peas.

   And for the first time in his life, Changkyun feels his brain halt functioning. Everything becomes silent, frozen under your stare. As if there's nothing to think about, nothing to worry about. He almost wants to say something, do something. But he's terrified that if does the spell will break, he'll turn into a pumpkin, and you'll go right back to treating him like a little brother. But his eyes betray his decision to do nothing, and he knows you see his gaze flicker down to your lips before traveling back up to your eyes. You never do miss a beat, in fact, he's always questioned how in the fuck you've managed to remain oblivious to his infatuation with you for so long. Unless it's willful ignorance. It's the only thing that makes sense. Which is why he's even more confused by the sensation of your soft lips pressing onto his.

   It's feather light, over in an instant, but he chases after the sensation. One hand wraps into your hair to pull you back for more. You taste like cilantro and flour tortillas and steak, and maybe it's because he's really fucking hungry but he can't get enough. Of the way you taste, the way you feel, the way you sigh softly into his mouth when his free hand presses you closer to him, gripping onto your hips. He'd gladly be punched in the face a thousand times if the end result was you kissing away his wounds each time. Christ, he's dreamed of this moment for so long he was terrified that it wouldn't be that amazing in real life but it's even better. Way better.

   But good things never seem to last long for Changkyun anymore. Because when his dick springs to life you suddenly seem to come back to reality, pulling away with a look of utter confusion and shock. A look at stark odds with the dazed bliss he's sure is playing on his face.

   "This...I'm sorry I...I shouldn't have done that. I don't know what I was thinking. We really shouldn't, um I should. Yeah. I should get the food for you. Um, here just uh hold this to your jaw to stop the swelling. Do you want some ibuprofen or anything before you eat? Are you good? Maybe some water? I'm sure you're thirsty. I can't believe I didn't ask you earlier if you wanted some water."

   In all 14 years of knowing you, he's never once seen you in such a state. He really didn't see this twist coming. He expected you to want to do backflips with him or sing praises to the heavens and then maybe hopefully screw his brains out. Instead, you look horrified, confused, lost, and possibly sickened by what just transpired. Which is just as heartbreaking to him as it is infuriating. If there is a god, he's cruel and unjust. That much Changkyun is certain of right now.

   He watches you zip around the kitchen, flitting from thing to thing for the next few minutes before he finally speaks up. "Are you okay?"

   "Peachy, perfectly fine. Why wouldn't I be okay? It's not like I just made out with my little brother's best friend in my kitchen after he got punched in the face by my possible serial killer date." You top off your jibbering with a high pitched and short-lived laugh. As if to really bring it home to Changkyun that you've officially thrown yourself off the cliff and dived into insanity.

   "I mean...I'm kind of more than just your little brother's best friend. I am my own sentient entity separate from Hyungwon. We aren't like...fucking conjoined twins. And it's not like we're actually related. But yeah that dude did seem like he was going to skin you alive, so I won't argue there." You ignore him, rummaging around the fridge before aggressively slamming a leftover bowl of soup into the microwave. Well, this is just going swimmingly. "(Y/N)...noona, come on. Just talk to me, please."

   "What do you want me to say Changkyun? I fucked up. We fucked up. And it's never going to happen again. I can't let it happen again. It's just...it's not right."

   "Why? Why isn't it right?"

   "Because it just isn't!" He watches you angrily ruffle your hair before spinning back around to face the microwave, your foot tapping away impatiently as the seconds slowly roll by.

   "Fine. Whatever. Listen, keep your dinner. I'll figure something out. I'll catch you some other time." He's out the door before you can respond. It's petty of him, he knows this. He knows he should have waited for you to respond, try to talk this out. Express his real feelings. Explain to you that he doesn't see this as just some random kiss. No, this was much much more for him. But he's angry, confused, and heartbroken so really he's pretty sure taking some time to cool off would be the smartest thing for him to do right now.

--------

   "Dude, what the fuck happened to your face?" It's moments like this that Changkyun really wishes he just had his own space. He actually really likes his dormmate, he's become fast friends with him which is rather unusual for Changkyun. But he just isn't in the mood for any human beings right now.

   "Long story." Changkyun tosses the extra sandwich at Jooheon before flopping down on his bed. He really should have just gotten some tacos again, but somehow they seemed tainted. Worthless. Kind of like him.

   "Descriptive. Not at all cryptic." Changkyun rolls his eyes before glancing over at Jooheon. Maybe it would do some good to tell him. Unlike Hyungwon he won't fall asleep in the middle of explaining everything, although right now he's not sure he really wants to spill his heart out to someone who's going to pay attention.

   "You know (Y/N)?"

   "Hyungwon's sister? The chick you've been obsessed with your whole life? Yeah, you've only brought her up more than a thousand times. What about her? She finally turn you down or something?"

   "How do you know that she didn't confess to being madly in love with me tonight?"

   "You might have the emotional range of a rock most of the time, but I'm pretty sure even you wouldn't be moody and depressed if she suddenly decided that she was into you. Besides, there's kind of that seriously swollen jaw of yours."

   "Fair enough."

   "So what happened?" Jooheon turns back around to resume typing up his paper as he speaks.

   "She kissed me." Changkyun can hear the typing halt almost immediately, silence filling the room for a moment before Jooheon responds.

   "She kissed you?" Jooheon repeats this slowly as if the words seem foreign or the concept impossible. Changkyun glares at Jooheon. Anger and humiliation bubbling up at the sound of complete and utter surprise in Jooheon's voice.

   "Yeah, and then she freaked the fuck out. Said that it was a mistake and she couldn't do this. Said that I was basically her little brother and it was wrong and some other shit."

   "And then she punched you in your face?"

   "What? No. Why would you think that?"

   "Oh, I don't know it might possibly have something to do with the giant bruise forming on your jaw."

   "Right. That. No that happened because I busted her out of a shitty date with some dude who wouldn't shut the fuck up about her skin."

   "Her skin?"

   "Yeah, he was a total basket case. I just happened to be there and noticed how she looked totally miserable so I helped bail her out. Except the dude wasn't too happy about it. Long story short, I got sucker punched. I think I broke his nose. We made a run for it. And then she kissed me when we were at her place and I'm pretty sure I'm doomed to the brother zone for the rest of my life."

   "Please for the love of god stop calling it the brother zone. It sounds creepy and very Alabama."

   "Fine. Whatever, she freaked out okay."

   "So what did you do?"

   "I left. What the fuck else was I supposed to do?"

   "I don't know. Tell her your feelings maybe?"

   "I didn't exactly want to spill my guts to her in a fit of rage."

   "Yeah...I guess I get that. So are you going to tell Hyungwon?"

   "Fuck no. And neither are you. Dude doesn't know how to keep his mouth shut. He's almost as bad as Minhyuk."

   "That's valid. Alright, I won't say anything. But if you need to talk to anybody, I'm here for you bro." If Changkyun had any capacity to feel his emotions left in him, he's pretty sure he'd be touched right now. As it stands though, he's just kind of hoping to wake up and realize that this was all just a shitty dream.

--------------

   It wasn't just a shitty dream. No, in some sick and twisted way he had you for just a fraction of a second before you're even further out of reach. It reminds him of a time that he was so close once before. It was about a year ago, towards the end of his Freshman year.

    You had just completed your capstone for your masters and you were holding a small celebration at your apartment with your closest friends. Once again, Changkyun had felt a bit like the odd kid out of the loop, straying away from human interaction in favor of sipping his cheap shitty beer in peace and quiet out on the patio. It's not that he didn't like parties, he just never knew how he was supposed to behave. Especially when he was around you. For some reason, he was perpetually nervous that he'd seem like the uncool dweeb who was your pity friend. You constantly told him that wasn't true whenever he'd bring it up but isn't that exactly what you'd tell someone who was only your friend because you felt bad for them?

   Hyungwon was convinced that Changkyun was on his man period, and while he'd tried to drag him back into the party a few times he'd clearly given up about an hour ago. That was perfectly fine with Changkyun. He'd had his own finals to contend with, and honestly, his brain was too fried to focus on a conversation for long. At least, he was sure of that until you stepped out onto the patio with two beers in your hand. You silently handed one to him before popping open the other and sipping from it. Somehow, you always knew how to find him. And he appreciated that you never chastised him for doing his own thing away from everyone else. "I know you hate coming to parties. But I really appreciate that you came. Don't tell anyone else, but I think you're my favorite guest here tonight."

   "I don't hate them. Hate's a strong word. Shouldn't you know that ms 'I'm about to get my masters in linguistics?'"

    "I can't believe it. That I'm finally here, that I've reached my goal. It feels like just yesterday you were helping me pack everything up to start university and pilfering my underwear. And now I'm getting my masters."

   "I didn't steal your underwear!" He knew that his bright red face gave away his lie. He totally stole a few pairs. But he isn't about to admit that. He knows it's...incredibly creepy. Crosses a lot of boundaries. But to be fair, these were clean pairs. He also would never in a million years do it again. He lacked impulse control then, but that doesn't save him from the burning embarrassment he's feeling now. Oh god. You probably think he's a closet perv.

   "It's fine. I thought it was funny. Don't worry, I never told anyone about it. If anyone else had done it, I would've been pissed. But for some reason, it's impossible to be mad at you. Maybe he was right."

   "Who was right? About what?" He hated when you got cryptic on him. At the same time, he loved that about you. The way you lived in a world of puzzles and riddles and sometimes cracked open for only certain people to see. It was as infuriating as it was attractive.

   You took a long pause before guzzling down the rest of your beer, staring off over the patio before speaking just above a whisper. "You know...in another life, maybe we would be great. Two fucked up peas in a pod." Before he could even respond you were gone, slipping back into the party and leaving him to dwell on the weight of your words. In another life? No. You'd be great together in this one. And now he wanted, more than ever before, to prove that to you. Because now he feels like he might really have a shot at this.

--------------

   It's been nearly two months since Changkyun last saw you. This is the longest he's gone without seeing your face with the exception of the three years he was in high school and you were in University if you don't count the weekly skype calls. At this point, he's run out of excuses and it's clear that Hyungwon is suspicious. He was given little choice but to either expose what happened to his best friend and be mocked for the rest of his existence, or finally go with him for Sunday brunch again. Which is how Changkyun finds himself standing in front of your door, fidgeting restlessly and trying not to imagine every doom and gloom possibility.

   Changkyun fights the urge to run away when you open the door, your mouth falling open in shock for a moment before you plaster on an uncomfortable smile and usher both of them in.

   "It's been a while Kkungie. What mayhem have you been up to?"

   "He's been an oddly good boy. A total square dweeb. I keep trying to get him to come hang out, but he's been doing nothing but studying." Hyungwon pipes up, grabbing a slice of quiche without asking before he meanders over to his usual spot on the couch.

   "You could learn something from him. There is more to life than sleep and girls."

   "Laaaaaame. I came here for free food and Netflix, and honestly, I am feeling so attacked right now."

   Changkyun shakes his head at the bickering, relaxing a bit as he grabs a plate. Everything seems like it's gone right back to normal. As if you didn't kiss him and then have an existential crisis just a couple of months ago. Changkyun isn't sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing. Then again, he wasn't really expecting for you to leap into his arms and throw yourself at him the moment you finally saw him again. Hoping for it, sure. Expecting it, not really. The odds of it were slim to none and Changkyun is, unfortunately, a realist through and through.

   The feeling of eyes on him has Changkyun glancing up, you look oddly unsure of yourself for a moment before quickly looking away. He swears that he sees a slight blush on your cheeks, but maybe that's just that stupid bit of hope in him that refuses to fucking die already. Life would be so much easier for him if he could just move on already. It would probably be easier for you too. But the heart wants what the heart wants, no matter how ridiculous or improbable it is.

   After that small moment, the rest of the time seems to pass by easily. Comfortably. Normally. He likes to think of himself as a master of deception at this point. A man completely in control of his own emotions. Because really all he wants to do is kiss you again. He didn't think that he'd be this obsessive with it, but seeing you again has his memories playing on a loop. How soft you were, how quickly you switched from hesitance to hunger before it all went downhill. Really fucking downhill. Straight into the ocean actually.

   "Shit, I forgot I have a date." Hyungwon's bizarre spike of energy has both you and Changkyun freezing.

   "With who? Your hand?" Changkyun tries, and fails, at not laughing at your jab to Hyungwon.

   "Rude, unlike you, I'm not having problems getting laid. If you must know, I have a date with Lisa. And I'm about to be really fucking late. Changkyun, can I borrow your keys?"

   "Just my keys? I would have figured that you'd want the car that comes with those keys too."

   "Har har jackass. Can I borrow your car or not?"

   "Why not just borrow mine?" You pipe up, nodding your head in the direction of your key ring resting on the kitchen counter.

   "Because the backseat of your car is always a mess of random clothes."

   "Okay, that's just gross. I didn't need that visual."

   "What? I didn't say anything gross." Hyungwon tries to play coy but the damage has been done.

   "You basically alluded to fucking your date in the back of a car to your sister."

   "Et tu, Brute? Et tu? Fine, just for that, need I remind you of the time you got caught sleeping with Rose in the park?" Changkyun rolls his eyes before digging his keys out of his pocket and tossing them to Hyungwon.

   "Thanks for just airing all my shit out. Again." Changkyun rolls his eyes before digging his keys out of his pocket and tossing them to Hyungwon. "You know the rules. If you're going to have sex in it, get it detailed before you bring it back."

   "Yeah, that's not going to happen. The detailing, that is. Later losers." Before either of them can respond he's out the door. He might usually move at a snail's pace, but when he wants to the lanky little shit can certainly move fast.

   "Does he do that a lot?"

   "Run his mouth? Yeah. Have you never met your brother?"

   "No, use your car for exhibitionism."

   "Way more often than I care to think about."

   "I'm never sitting in the backseat again."

   "It's a wise choice." An uncomfortable silence fills the air for a moment before he finally tries to speak up. "So-"

   "I was-" Both of you stop, and he fights a smile at the way you laugh. You've never had a particularly cute laugh. It's one of those cackle-snort-choke laughs that makes everyone else pause for a moment when they hear it. It's endearing. Heartwarming. God, he's missed even your ugly laugh. He's definitely whipped. "Sorry, you first."

   "I was just going to ask how you've been. If you're okay." Changkyun stares at the floor as he speaks, afraid to look you directly in the eyes.

   "What?"

   "Well, I just kind of dipped while you were in the middle of an existential crisis which wasn't cool of me. I'm sorry about that. And then I've been blowing things off because I figured you needed your space, but I want you to know that I have been concerned. I care about you, you know. So I'm sorry for running away. And I want to know, are you okay?"

   He watches you slowly blink when he finally glances up, the gears grinding a million miles a minute in your head before you finally speak again. "I've been...I've been okay. Confused. Unsure. Scared."

   "None of that sounds okay."

   You give a snort, shaking your head as you look at him. For a moment he swears he sees that fire again. That look that tells him that you're looking at him, looking into his soul. Figuring him out. Reading him. Wanting him. He likes that look far too much for his own good, especially because it's over in a flash. Almost imperceptible. He's sure that if he didn't know you as well as he does he wouldn't have even noticed it. He guesses he's not the only master of deception. "Listen, you weren't the only one that fucked up. I shouldn't have freaked out on you like that. I'm the adult, I shouldn't have taken it all out on you like that. I'm sorry for that."

   "We're both adults. Stop acting like your this old sage grandmother, you're only four fucking years older than me. I know that I'm a bit of an oddball, and I might not be like all the guys you date with their own places and a steady career, but I am an adult."

   "In the eyes of the law sure." That stung way more than it should have, and he knows that for a moment his mask breaks and you can see the pain flash in his eyes by the way you rush to fix your fuck up. "I'm sorry, that was rude. I just. I have a hard time seeing you as all grown up. The same way I have a hard time seeing Hyungwon as anything other than my stupid little brother who always stole my video games."

   "So what exactly do I need to do to make you see me as a man? Not some little boy, not your little brother's best friend. Just me."

   "I don't think I understand what you're asking."

   "Noona, you know exactly what I fucking mean. Do I need to spell it out? Because I will if that's what you want. I've been in love with you for as long as I can remember. And I know you might see it as just some dumb crush, but trust me. It's not. I want you, all of you. And I don't know what I need to do for you to finally see me as a worthy candidate for you, but whatever I need to do I will. We both know that I'm stubborn as hell, so if you don't tell me what I need to do don't think that I'll just give up."

   "I...what?" You stop, freezing under his stare for what feels like eons before you finally manage to speak again. "I don't know what to say. I don't know."

   "Well think about it. Because I'm not going to back down easily. Tell me that you don't want me, tell me that you aren't at all interested and I'll back off. But if there's even the slightest fucking chance that I can get you to finally see me for me and not just your little brother's best friend I'm not about to back down. I'm a patient man, I've waited this long to get you to even think about it. I have no problems with waiting longer if it means getting you at the end." He doesn't like to think of himself as a cocky man, and he knows that if you've ever paid a lick of attention to him in all these years you'll know he only speaks when he knows he can back it up. He watches you closely, trying to gauge your reaction but your face seems completely blank. He isn't sure if this is in his favor or against it. Whatever the case might be, he's finally said what he's needed to say.

   "I'm still not sure what to say. Or think. I had no clue that you felt that way."

   "We both know that's bullshit. You had to have known, you aren't that dense of a person."

   "That's a valid point. But I just assumed that...I don't know that you were just like every other dumb horny boy out there. I didn't think that there was anything deeper to it. I'm just...speechless. I can't give you any answers right now Changkyun, I'm sorry."

   "That's okay. I don't need answers right now. I told you, I'm a patient dude. Just do me a favor and think about it." He grabs the dishes left on the coffee table and brings them back to the kitchen, rinsing them off silently before throwing them in the dishwasher. He has no interest, truly, in doing the dishes to get brownie points. No the real reason why he's done this is because it gives him a prime and unobtrusive view of you. The way you sink slightly into confusion, cogs moving slowly as the calculations begin. This is good, this means that you're thinking about it. You aren't simply blowing him off as you usually would. Perhaps he does stand a chance.

   Changkyun watches you for a moment longer before clearing his throat. "Well, I appreciate the food. I'm going to head back now, I've got some papers I want to finish up." That's a lie, he's been caught up on everything for weeks now. Now that he hasn't been spending any time at your place or going to parties he's been working as far ahead as he can. He figures though that it's a simple enough of a lie that you'll believe him. Which is important, because he needs a way to give you some space without making things awkward.

   "How are you going to get back? Hyungwon took your car. Do you want me to drive you?"

   "Nah, it's no biggie. I can just skip going to the gym today and walk instead."

   "No, no I insist. Either we wait for my dipshit brother to come back or I'll drive you. But I don't feel right with making you walk."

   "It's two miles, I'll survive. I promise. On cardio days I usually run for five, trust me, I'll be okay." He watches you glare at him, your mouth opening and closing repeatedly before you finally sigh and nod.

   "Fine. You know you can really be stubborn when you want to."

   "I know. I go for what I want and I usually try to find a way to get it. You, for instance. That's at least the big picture goal."

   "What do you mean big picture goal?"

   "Jesus, Noona, I meant what I said earlier. I'm not just thinking about this as some one-off thing. I want you. Emotionally, sexually, hell I'll tack on spiritually for good measure. Everything about you drives me crazy, I want that in my life. I want you in my life. Not as a friend. Not simply as my childhood friend. I'm not sure what part about that is so difficult to understand, but I mean it. I'm not asking for you to jump into my arms or my bed right now, although I wouldn't turn it down either, I just want you to honestly think about it. Because for as long as I can remember I've been in love with you, and I don't want to pressure you into anything but I do want a shot at this. I don't want to just be passed off as 'oh it's just a cute crush.' Because that's not what this is." He pauses for a moment, assessing the way you squint and try to analyze everything. Ever the thinker, always trying to find logic even in the midst of a romantic confession. Or at least a passionate confession, Changkyun would like to think. "Just think about it. Thanks again for the breakfast, I'll catch you around." He waits for a moment before pressing his lips to your forehead and striding out the door. Well more like ran out the door, but in his head, he walked out with confidence and gusto and was most certainly not tripping over himself before victory dancing at that small peck.

   The only problem that Changkyun sees in all of this is that he's a man of carefully calculated planning, usually. Being a man of brute action just isn't his style. He wants to be sure that all pawns are in their places before a glorious victory. He's the type to always think five steps ahead. But something happened to him when you kissed him after he rescued you from the budding Hannibal. It rewired his brain, or maybe his dick because he's a bit foggy on everything. He's positive that this will help you finally look at him, but at the same time, he isn't one to be so brash. He's just hoping that perhaps this was still the right method needed. Whatever the case might be all he can do for now is try to craft some sort of a game plan to prove himself to you.

----------------------

   "So you finally confessed to her?" Jooheon is tossing snacks into Minhyuk's mouth as he asks this, Minhyuk almost choking when a pretzel gets nearly lodged in his throat.

   "Yup. She said she didn't know what to say. She really thought that I was just, I don't know, some annoying horny kid or something. Maybe? Or maybe she doesn't even want to acknowledge that I have a dick? It's really all hard to say right now."

   "Pun intended or??" Minhyuk ducks when Changkyun throws a pillow at his face. "Sorry, sorry. I get it you're all serious and whipped for this girl."

   "Woman. Have some respect."

   "Christ." Jooheon and Minhyuk speak at the same time. The double trouble twins back at it again. Changkyun should have known better than to tell them anything, but he needed comrades if he was going to carry anything through. And as much as he loves Hyungwon, he's pretty sure that he'll either sleep through his battle planning meetings or simply spend the entire time razzing him. Neither of which are very helpful.

   "Well, knowing you, you have a plan. So what is it?" Minhyuk sprawls out on his stomach, kicking his feet behind him as he blinks up at Changkyun.

   "I...I don't have one."

   "WHAT?" The double trouble twins really do excel at synchronization.

   "That's my problem, I didn't think any of this through. I kind of...I don't know I figured that my confession would have more of an impact maybe? I didn't expect a deer in headlights response, although I suppose I really should have taken that into consideration. It is the most logical of responses really. And I told her that I'd prove to her that I'm a man now. I don't know why I said that. The more I think about it the more...embarrassing the whole situation becomes. Christ guys what am I going to do?"

   "Defeat the Huns?" Minhyuk really isn't the most helpful person sometimes. But he does strike genius every once and a while. Especially when it comes to nefarious plottings. Unfortunately, now is clearly not one of those times. "Don't give me that look. I'm thinking. Okay well, has she seen your abs?"

   "Yes, I just flash them at random to people." Changkyun holds back the urge to roll his eyes as he deadpans his sarcasm. "Of course she hasn't you nit-wit. The need for her to see them has never really been there."

   "Oh, but you have no problem walking around here naked."

   "For fuck's sake Jooheon, you caught me one time and I promised never again. And it was in our room for god's sake, not out in fucking public. Let it go, man."

   "Back on track, I say you show her your abs. That should get her hot and bothered. Works for all the football players here at least." Minhyuk nods his head as he speaks as if agreeing with himself will somehow make Changkyun more likely to agree.

   "And how, pray tell, do I go about this in some semblance of normalcy?"

   "Pool party!" Jooheon pipes up, before stopping. "Wait...none of us have a pool."

   "But...she does. Her complex has a pool there, and summer is almost here."

   "Okay, so here's what you do. You drop random hints about girls in bikinis, lazing outside under the sun with hot girls around him, and eventually just casually ask him about the pool at (Y/N)'s complex. If you do this slowly enough, and we all drop hints randomly together, he'll think it's one hundred percent his idea and he should go for it. The real question is, will she?" Minhyuk is animated as he speaks, lighting up as the plan forms in his seedy little brain.

   "She would have rules and provisions for allowing it, but yeah she'd say yes to him. She pretends to acts all tough, but she rarely says no to him. The real question is though, how are showing my abs off really going to win her over?"

   "A bit of jealousy my friend. I know some girls who've been interested in you. We invite them, we watch them latch onto you like the harlots they so desperately want to be with you, and ignite the secret yearning in (Y/N)'s heart for this forbidden love." Minhyuk adds on an evil cackle at the end, stopping only when a cough takes over.

   "This seems all very...I don't know, cliche and high school if you ask me. I mean, no offense to your plan I just don't think that her seeing my abs and other chicks are going to make her magically say 'ah yes this is a man I can see myself seriously dating and possibly spending my life with.' I appreciate the effort though."

   "No, no Minhyuk has a point. And let's say it doesn't go as planned, at least we all get a pool party out of it. I promise if you're right and we're wrong we'll help you hatch a different plan of attack. But for now, let's at least see how this goes. On an unrelated note, I'm starving. Do you guys want to go grab some pizza?"

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   A month and a half later and Changkyun is sipping a beer from a plastic cup (no glass allowed near the pool as per lease terms and your strict warnings) as he takes in the sight before him. The first half of the plan went swimmingly (pun intended), but the latter half Changkyun still isn't so sure about. You barely even glanced at him before running back up to your apartment to grab some ice. Oh well, if it all goes to shit at least he gets to see you in a bikini again. He's been needing to update his internal spank bank material if he's honest. His sights still linger on your door, waiting for you to come back out when Hyungwon floats over to the edge where Changkyun has his feet dipped in.

   "Dude, what's the point of being at a pool party if you aren't even going to talk to babes or get in the pool?"

   "I'm enjoying my drink without dealing with the taste of chlorine mixing into it, and I'm not here for the babes." Changkyun is here for one babe, one babe currently avoiding him. Plan ABduction (named by Minhyuk) is so far failing spectacularly. What's the point of showing off his newer more manly physique if you aren't even here to ogle him like a magnificent slab of meat before ravaging him?

   "Now that's just not fair. Seulgi and Joy have been staring at you the entire time and you haven't even taken the hint. If you aren't going to get them then I will. You know they're in like an open relationship or whatever? I'm just saying, I feel like a threesome is on the tables with them. I've heard-"

   "Dude, they aren't just objects to be passed around. They're real human beings. I mean listen, if they're down then that's between you and them as three consenting adults. But you've been hanging out with way too many frat fuckers if you think that you can just talk about women as if they can be passed around to the highest bidder. Stop letting your dick talk, no one wants to hear it speak."

   "Woah, calm down you know I didn't...no I guess you're right. I didn't think about how that would come out. Maybe I should lay off the drinks. And the frat parties." Hyungwon floats in the other direction after that, leaving Changkyun to his solo bliss.

   It's a small party, per your rules. There are about 12 people total including Changkyun and you. Not surprisingly, Hyungwon invited mostly girls (who weren't friends with his currently off on again off again girlfriend Lisa), along with Jooheon and Minhyuk. Everyone else has been congregating by the more shallow end of the pool, drunkenly trying to play cards against humanity without getting the cards wet. He's pulled out of his thoughts by the sight of your feet dipping next to his.

   "I heard what you said to Hyungwon. Thanks for not letting his head get too far up his own ass. I don't think I give you enough credit for keeping him somewhat normal. Well, as normal as frog boy can be."

   "I don't think we can call him normal, I mean you can't even call me normal. I just try to keep him...safe for public consumption. He's just going through that college freedom insanity phase still. He'll get over it eventually."

   "Oh, I remember those days."

   "You? I can't see you as ever flying off the handles noona."

   "Oh but I did. You've got to remember, Hyungwon and I grew up in a pretty conservative home. My freshman year of college was a blur of parties, random hookups, and various substances smattered between cramming and making sure my grades didn't drop. Unlike Hyungwon, I made sure I was never on the verge of failing a class and having to explain that to my parents. I wanted to look like a model student to keep them off my asses. And it worked. Until I realized that I wasn't actually having fun and the parties and hookups felt empty and I started settling back down. I've got to say though, I didn't take you for the more level headed of the two. Hyungwon was always so uptight I figured you'd be the free spirit and he'd be the anchor."

   "I mean, I wouldn't say I'm entirely level headed, I just think things through more than him right now. Most of the time, that is." There's a pause after he looks at you. It's breathtaking, the way your profile glows under the setting sun, a small coy smile lighting up your face.

   "I have to ask, why aren't you talking to those girls? They've been stealing glances at you the entire time and they don't look all too pleased with me right now. They're pretty girls you know."

   "Sure, they're very pretty. But they aren't you. It's as simple as that." Changkyun watches a blush creep onto your cheeks as you quickly look away and clear your throat. Now that's a response he was hoping for but not expecting. Perhaps Minhyuk's plan hasn't entirely gone to shit.

   "Well, that was rather matter of fact of you."

   "You're cute when you blush."

   "I'm going to choke you if you don't stop."

   "I'm into that. I mean I usually prefer to be the one giving, but I think I'd be into anything with you." The look in your eyes threaten a possible painful death for him, but the way you've turned beet red tells him that his words affect you. That's got to be a good sign. Right?

   "You weren't kidding when you said you were stubborn and weren't going to give up. That I can tell. I think I'm just still iffy on the why. I mean, what exactly is it about me?"

   "There are too many reasons to count. I think I knew you were the one when you said that pokemon yellow was superior because it showed you the emotions of Pikachu but the pitfall of the game was that you couldn't see all of their emotions and it was limited to just Pikachu."

   "That's...absurd. How in the fuck do you even remember that?"

   "I don't know, but I can tell you that love is absolutely absurd and convoluted and I've stopped trying to fight it or understand it. For the longest time, I tried to get over you, mainly because everyone had decided that you and Shochu-"

   "-Shownu?"

   "Yeah, sure, him. Everyone figured the two of you were going to get married and pop out babies and be the town's most beautiful couple or whatever. The point is, I figured that I had lost my chance and it was time to tuck tail before even trying. But then you guys broke up. And then you moved away, and I thought well maybe now I'll get over it. Except, the funny thing or infuriating depending on how you look at it is I couldn't get you out of my fucking head. The way you smile, the way you laugh, the way you have to reason absolutely everything, but most importantly the way that you see five steps ahead almost every time and somehow you see things how I see them when no one else does. Except for probably right now guessing by the look on your face. Do you finally get that-" He's cut off by the sensation of your lips pressing firmly to his own. It's not like the first time you kissed him, where it started off unsure and soft, no this one radiates the confidence he's always admired in you. The take no prisoners attitude of yours. And boy oh boy if he isn't melting like a high school girl hearing a 'sup' from her crush.

   He can feel his soul depart from his body for just a moment before blood threatens to rush to his dick in a very public place with only a flimsy pair of swim trunks to shield him. As much as Changkyun would like to pull you closer and turn this into a makeout session, he's pretty sure that popping a boner is against your pool rules. So instead, he quickly pushes himself into the pool at around the same time he realizes the others are whistling and hollering while Hyungwon lets out a wail of sheer disgust. Oh well, you can't win them all.

   He almost expects you to run away again, but this time you're just smiling. As if all is well in this shit hole of a world and as if you're actually happy to kiss him. Oh my god, you really are happy that you kissed him. Sweet mother of fuck, he could die right now and he'd be okay with that. "Wow. That was...wow." He ignores the finally dying out enthusiasm around him, instead just trying to focus on taking in your visage.

   "Fantastic description, you really are such a wonderful poet."

   "Are you ever not sarcastic?"

   "Are you?"

   "That's valid." He pauses at the sound of your laughter, that familiar dying seel noise making his heart thud against his ribcage and sets a frenzy of butterflies loose in his gut. When you finally stop he can't help but ask, "So why did you kiss me? I mean, don't get me wrong it was a solid 10 out of 10, would most certainly do it again. But I mean...now I'm the one who's iffy."

   "Truth be told, I've been thinking about it a lot. Probably longer than you would think, as in before the first time I kissed you. You're not exactly bad looking if you haven't noticed. And while your personality is rather questionable it's questionable in all the right ways. Most of the time that is. But as you know, I'm a chronic overthinker. And I just figured I'd look like a cradle robber, or worse, a cougar on the prowl. I figured that you weren't super serious about it, and I'm just past that age of just fucking for the sake of fucking and I would especially never cross that weird boundary with someone I'm so close to. I know I say you're Hyungwon's friend because you are, but you're just as much my friend too. And that makes it kind of scary. A little too vulnerable for my normal liking, you know? But after your third confession, I realized that you couldn't still be trying this hard just to simply get in my pants. Third time's the charm I guess."

   "So where exactly does that place us now? I'll leave that one hundred percent in your court, but I'm not opposed to a shotgun wedding."

   "I'd have to be pregnant for it to be a shotgun wedding you absolute dork."

   "I'm not opposed to that. Just picture us, lots of little hellions running around as we have exhausted five-minute quickies during their short-lived naps. Living the dream."

   "That sounds absolutely terrible and I'm going to have to pass on that nightmare. I figured we could start off like normal human beings, you know, dating? As in actually going out and being boyfriend and girlfriend and not rushing into a Las Vegas wedding with fat Elvis as our officiate."

   "I'll agree, but I'd like to negotiate on fat Elvis at a later date please."

   "Deal."

   "Did you dorks just enter into like a dating contract or something?" Minhyuk swims over to them, trying to rapidly flee when you start splashing water at his face. "Woah, woah watch the money maker there miss. I am the mastermind behind all of this, I expect to be the best man!"

   "Ignore him, he's an idiot." Changkyun glares at Minhyuk before turning back to you. He kind of wants to squeal, he's that happy. He had never thought about the possibility of you having actually already liked him. You having a near panic attack after the first time you kissed him kind of killed all of those illusions of grandeur. "Noona, can I take you out on a date right now?"

   "And leave these dumbasses to burn down my apartment and get me evicted, ruin my nearly perfect credit score, and leave me homeless? I think not. How about tomorrow?"

   "Tonight?"

   "It's already six. God clearly did not bless you with patience as you've so boldly claimed to me before."

   "I'm not going to pretend to be patient when I have this opportunity right in front of me. So we'll tell them all to get their asses home at eight. Do you really want to stick around them for that much longer? I mean, they're already trashed." He watches you squint at the college kids splashing around, loudly giggling as incoherent babbles slur out of one person after the next.

   "You make a strong argument. Alright, fine. Eight o'clock it is. But you get to tell everyone that they have to wrap it up, I refuse to be the bearer of bad news to them."

   "OY FUCKERS!" Changkyun watches as almost everyone slowly glances over at him with glazed over eyes and alcohol-induced smiles. "You've gotta get your asses out of here by 8!"

   "FINE MOM." Jooheon hollers back before they all return to their still ongoing game of cards against humanity. He's pretty sure half of the deck has sunken to the bottom of the pool at this point.

   "Well, that was easy. As much as I'd love to stay for you to herd the flock back to safety later, I've got to go set up for our date. I'll pick you up." Before he pulls himself out of the pool, however, he makes sure to swim up to you and pull you in for another deep kiss. God, your lips just feel so right. So perfect. Like he's finally found his home and he never wants to leave. If he's honest he wants to do this date so quickly just to prove that all of this is real. He didn't expect you to respond to him in earnest so quickly, and now he feels both a sense of extreme exhilaration and joy coupled with looming anxiety that if he doesn't actually take you out on a date soon he'll wake up and find out that this was all an elaborate dream. Or worse, a prank.

------------------

   It's currently just a few minutes past eight and Changkyun is sitting uncomfortably straight on your couch as he waits for you to finish changing. He can't remember the last time he was this nervous for a date. Middle school dance perhaps? Shit, his palms are even sweaty now. He wipes them on his jeans and takes a moment to stare at his reflection. He doesn't look too shabby. The leather jacket, beanie, black t-shirt, and fitted ripped black skinnies are a classic look. You can't go wrong with that, right? Oh god, what if you wanted him to look classy? Does this look too much like a college kid? No...no this is fine. It kind of has to be, you've already seen him. You didn't comment much though. Shit.

   In the midst of his self deprecating anxiety riddled thoughts running rampant, he sees you step into the living room. You're wearing a simple white sundress and sandals, but there's something about it that drives those obnoxious butterflies wild in his stomach. Maybe it's just you. He swears you could wear a potato sack and he'd still think that you're the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. It's not fair how little you have to do to captivate him while he's worried about simple things like if his t-shirt is too casual to impress you.

   "Are you ready to go? I'm surprised with how impatient you were to get on with this date that you weren't hollering at me to hurry up while I changed."

   "We have all the time in the world tonight. And I'm glad I didn't rush you because you look...stunning."

   "Well, I hope I'm dressed okay for whatever you have planned. You still aren't going to tell me where we're going are we?"

   "Now who's the impatient one?" Changkyun can't help but smile at the way you roll your eyes before linking hands with him. Christ, you're really going to be the death of him. He still can't believe this is happening. He might have been the one who rushed into this date, but his brain still can't wrap around the fact that you've now kissed him twice and asked him out. Over the moon doesn't even begin to describe his enthusiasm. "No, I'd rather not spoil the surprise."

----------

   It isn't long before Changkyun is pulling up to a secluded back entrance to a lake. You had once brought Hyungwon and him here during a summer visit the summer of your sophomore year. He was attacked by leeches and you had to rummage through your backpack for salt packets you pilfered at fast food places for no apparent reason. But for some reason, he felt that this just had to be the place to take you. That same day you had opened up to him about the gnawing loneliness that had occurred after leaving home, but how you refused to come back with your tail tucked between your legs to be another small town girl who just couldn't make it in a bigger city. It was the first time that you had ever confided in him, the first time that he had seen the infallible you seem so scared and lost. It had started a shift in your friendship, you had trusted in him at that moment with something you hadn't shared with anyone else.

   "I can't believe you actually remember this place. I feel I should warn you, I don't carry pilfered salt packets around with me anymore so taking a dip in the lake probably isn't the best idea."

   "Are you kidding me? I'd rather try to tame a wolf than enter that godforsaken water ever again."

   "Taming a wolf sounds badass."

   "See, you get it. Please, tell that to Hyungwon." In just a matter of seconds, he's getting out of the car and jogging around to open up your door before rummaging around in the backseat for his backpack. Unfortunately, or possibly fortunately for you, he doesn't have a kitchen to even try to make some sort of picnic evening meal from scratch. Instead, he's spent his time zipping around the grocery store for easy enough things like premade and overpriced salads, a bottle of grey goose (he'd rather not spend that much on alcohol, but he knows that you're a staunch advocate for top-shelf liquor), and a bottle of lemonade. He grabs the blanket from the back and leads the way to a small clearing before setting everything up.

   "I can't help but wonder how long you've had this date actually planned. This seems like a lot for something so last minute."

   "Does it? Well I mean, I guess I've kind of had this idea running around my head for a while. I kept hoping that you'd ask me to actually prove myself and take you out on a date and bam I could surprise you with a moonlit dinner by the lake that would be so beautiful and thoughtful you'd go 'oh Changkyun you're so sweet' and fall madly in love with me. But I'm not going to pretend I'm not ecstatic about the way how everything worked out in the end."

   He watches you take a sip of the drink he pours for you, the way you gaze at him so intently before slipping into a comfortable silence as you take in your surroundings. It isn't until he's handed you your salad that you finally speak up. "You know...this lake holds a very important memory for me." You take a long pause, glancing over at him before continuing. "God, how long ago was it that I took you guys here? Four years ago? No. Shit, it had to have been about six years ago now, almost seven. I was going through this really rough patch. When you're a kid you think you have everything all figured out and then life hits you repeatedly in the face until you realize that you actually don't know shit. But just like you, I'm a rather stubborn person. I tried so hard to look like I was doing well when you guys came out to visit me for summer, tried to pretend like I wasn't emotionally falling apart at the seams. But I knew you could see past that facade. You've always been eerily observant of those around you, even if it looks like you're completely oblivious. But you didn't say anything, you just played along with my act of complete happiness at being miles away from everything I've ever known. Isolated and struggling to find decent friends. Until we got to this lake, and you finally asked me why I looked so hollow when I smiled when I was in the middle of pouring salt on those disgusting leeches. You wouldn't let me play it off. You said that it wasn't healthy to keep it all bottled in and for the first time in a long time I came clean. And I realized something then. Not only were you wise beyond your years, but I had always relied on you more than I had realized. You were always around to listen to me bitch about boys and parties and my parents. You had always supported me when I said I wanted to get my masters in linguistic anthropology, a very obscure field that everyone figured would amount to nothing."

   You take another long pause, taking a few bites of food and sipping on your drink before looking straight at him. It's the look of analysis, that look that says you can see right through him and into his soul. Almost as if you've found a way to dive into someone's psyche and rummage around all of their thoughts. "It wasn't until a couple of years later that I understood the full weight of this realization. I figured you were just my closest friend. An ally in the midst of an internal battle, if you will. But then one night I was having an argument with Kihyun and I told him that he wasn't supportive the way you were. which is a really fucking weird thing to say to your boyfriend, you know? He was quick to point that out to me, and then he said that he didn't want to be my second choice. I think I fell in love with you at this lake, and I was just too arrogant to realize it. I'm sorry that I'm a bit of a mess. And that I keep kissing you without properly explaining or resolving things. I can't tell you how long I've wanted to tell you all of this. It feels nice to finally come clean. I guess what I'm trying to say is, I love you Changkyun. I love you for you. For all the weird things you do. For being there for me when no one else was. For just simply existing. For being my number one supporter. For working so hard all these years to keep up with me when really you've always been ahead in your own ways. I love the way you look at me, the way you make me feel like everything is good and pure and safe when I'm around you. I love that I can just be myself around you and how you don't hold back when you're around me. I love you."

   "Holy shit." He expects to hear another quip about his failure of eloquent words but instead, you just laugh. Never in a million years would he have guessed that his unrequited love had been reciprocated for so long. To be fair, the two of you have tangled yourselves in rather complicated webs. It would be nice if life could be so straight forward in a way that the two of you could have just said all of this years ago, but neither of you are the same people now as you were back then. You've both grown, changed. He knows that he would've felt too unsure of himself, that the relationship would have been doomed to failure had you actually been honest back then because he really was too young. A bit too inept to keep up with you, a bit too insecure to have been able to confidently be by your side. But now? Now all he can think of is how much he wants to grow with you, for you, for himself. But his brain isn't allowing him to just get the damn words out.

   After what feels like an eternity he finally manages to croak out, "I've been in love with you for so long that it's surreal hearing that you've felt the same way. I've dreamt of this moment you know? And I'm a little disappointed that a rainbow isn't shooting out of the night sky with a leprechaun showering us in gold because it feels like that damn magical. It just feels all...I don't know rather anticlimactic I guess, but I don't mean that in a bad way. Because this is real. It's not some romanticized fantasy. It feels natural and right and real, and holy shit do I really want to kiss you. Can I? Kiss you that is?"

   He watches the way you tilt your head back and laugh before pulling in closer to him, a smile on your lips as you cock an eyebrow up and say, "I think that sounds perfect right about now." That's all he needs to hear before he places one hand on the back of your head and drags you into a slow kiss.

   Every time he's kissed you it's been different. The first time was unsure, then heated, and then finally very cold. A microwave meal kiss seems an apt description to him. The second time, earlier today, that one was a declaration. It was bold. Firm. A statement. That you weren't holding back. That you wanted him. But this one is slower, more sensual. There's something lingering just underneath the surface, the sexual tension that's been building for years is trying to crash through the tidal waves of emotions. This time the two of you are confirming all the unsaid things. All the time it's taken to grow. All the time it's taken to reach this point where you could be honest. And happy. And in love. A budding love, sure. But it's mutual.

   It's when he slips his tongue into your mouth that the sexual tension finally breaks through. The soft groan from your throat reverberates through his body, lighting a hunger in him as his hands quickly pull you into his lap. You respond in kind, your hands quick to roam under his shirt and across the firm planes of his abs. Perhaps Minhyuk was right. Abs are indeed a golden ticket. Not that Changkyun will ever tell him that. His hands grip tightly at your hips as he places open-mouthed kisses along your neck before stopping at the top of your breasts before you pull back to take off your dress before tugging his shirt over his head.

   "I'm not usually a first date kind of gal. Not that there's a problem with that, but I have trust issues I guess. What I'm trying to say is I want you. I really want you, I don't care where we are or that this is really rushing into things, but so help me god if I don't fuck you soon Changkyun I might combust."

   "Spontaneous combustion is one of my favorite myths but I'd really rather not witness that before I get to finally feel you. Shit, I want to be inside you so bad. Do you know how many times I've jerked off to the thought of you?"

   "Many a tube sock ruined in high school, I can imagine. I pray that you did your own laundry."

   "Of course I did! God, there is no way in hell I'd make my poor mom go through that. Puberty is awkward enough without having to explain jizz stains to your mom." His hips thrust up instinctively when you palm his already prominent erection through his pants. Good god, he prays that he doesn't nut too fast.

   "Very true but you know what I'd like? For you to stop waxing poetic about the past and fuck me right now." He can feel all air leave his lungs when you pull him into another kiss before unzipping his pants and pulling his erection free. "If you want to, that is."

   "Noona, I really want to fuck you. I want to, holy shit, hear you scream my name. I want to watch you cum on my cock...fuck...probably more than I want to do anything else in life." He struggles with his words when he sees your fingers wrap around his dick and slowly pump him. The way you maintain eye contact with a coy smile only has his insides boiling over. Shit, he figured you'd be the type to take the lead but it's a whole other world experiencing it than fantasizing about it. It's almost like you've put him in a trance. As if the outside world doesn't matter right now. Who cares that his dick's right out there for the world to see in front of a public lake at night, or that the two of you have barely just confessed your love and should technically be enjoying this picnic he's put together when you're looking at him like that? Certainly not him. No, all that matters right now is that he wants to feel you. Taste you. Hear your moans. And the feeling is clearly very mutual.

   When you finally detract your hand to take your bra and underwear off he's both relieved and more excited than before. Holy shit, this is really happening. He's only temporarily dissatisfied that you undress so quickly, his thoughts quickly shifting when you straddle his lap and guide his hands to your core. You're already dripping wet, and even the softest flick of his thumb on your clit has you sighing contentedly into his neck. It's a bit difficult at this angle, but he's determined to hear those sighs turn into moans. He works one finger into you slowly, slipping in a second after a moment. When you arch your back and grind down he moves his thumb in slow circles around your swollen clit before speeding up at the sound of your quiet command, "faster."

   It isn't long before sighs turn into mewls and then turn into moans that you muffle in the crook of his neck. "Like that, fuck, right there." He can feel his dick twitch at the lack of attention, but he doesn't care. All he wants right now is to see you climax, feel you cum on his fingers. When you do he feels you tighten, hears you cry out a loud "fuck" into his shoulder before biting down. It's magical. Fuck the leprechaun, this is the real pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. He slows down when you go limp against him, breathing raggedly before smiling up at him with a dazed expression. Christ, he wants you. "Can I...can I fuck you now or...do you need a moment?"

   "I mean...I could give you some head if you want."

   "Yes, no, I mean. Yes, head sounds great, but no not right now. I'm about five minutes away from blowing my load, not going to lie."

   "I can work with that." You take a moment to adjust before gripping his dick in your hand. "Lay back, that'll make this easier."

   "Yes, ma'am." You roll your eyes when he salutes you, but you respond only by sinking onto him. You move so slowly he's afraid he'll die at this rate. It's as delicious as it is torturous, the way he feels you adjust and stretch around him as you slowly guide yourself further down his cock. He could die right now a happy man. He's had sex, but this. This is different. Better. It's fantastic, perfect, his own slice of heaven. And maybe that's why when you've taken all of him and moan softly before rolling his hips he blurts out, "I love you." Because he does. He loves you with every fiber of his being, and he doesn't want you to think that all he thinks about is sex. He sort of does, but that's not what this is about. This is more than that. this is more than sex even. It's not a random hookup, or a random girlfriend to pass the time with. No, this is you. And that makes everything different. Like he's floating on cloud nine. Like he's finally found the secret to life buried somewhere deep in your pussy.

   When you roll your hips again and position his hands over your breasts you pause to respond for a moment, "I love you too." It's simple, a matter of fact. And it brings emotions rolling into it. For a moment neither of you moves. The two of you just basking in the profundity in the realization that this means something more. That the two of you are finally more. Your lips come crashing down onto his, a hunger chasing at the two of you as his hips rut in tandem each time you roll.

   "Shit, shit, I'm not going to last long. I'm so sorry. I promise I'm normally not, fuck!" He stops functioning when your hands grip his balls.

   "It's okay, I already came earlier. Let go, Changkyun." It only takes you grinding down on him once, twice, three more times before he's spilling inside you. His orgasm hits him with a force he's not used to. A loud groan leaves him before he pants out your name, goosebumps rising up on his flesh as his hands move to quickly grip your hips closer to him.

   "Fuck, fuck. Holy fuck, Noona." He loves the way you laugh, squeezing around his rapidly softening dick before peppering kisses around his face. And even though he's limp and sliding out of you and smearing cum all over your thighs and his jeans neither of you care. The two of you just bask in soft stolen kisses, quiet declarations of love and adoration, and bouts of giggles. He isn't sure how long the two of you stay like that. It might have been just a few minutes or an hour. It's easy to lose track of time when he's with you. But when the two of you do finally break away to get dressed it's more because of the chill in the air than anything else. As you pack up your long forgotten salads he grabs your hand and pulls you into another kiss. He's always wanted to be able to do that. Just hold hands with you. Kiss you. Be by your side. In a way, somehow, that's even better than the fact that he finally got to sleep with you. But he's pretty sure that would sound lame so instead, he says, "Noona, I really love you. And I don't know where life is going to take us, but I do know I want it to be with you. I mean, I know that sounds dumb and serious considering that we technically only started dating, and I'm totally rushing into things but-"

   "Changkyun. It's okay. You don't sound dumb. I'm glad you're telling me all of this because I really love you too. And I'm really glad that I can finally say that. So please, stop thinking so damn much."

   "We both know that's never going to happen. We're both chronic overthinkers. But...I am really happy."

   "Good. We have a lot to talk about, and think about. But right now I'm freezing my ass off, so how about you spend the night with me and we can cuddle in my warm cozy bed and think about all the possibilities life has in store for us there?"

   "That sounds perfect. Hey, how soon do you think we should tell our parents?"

   "Oh my god, you complete and utter dork. Save it for the warm bed, please."

-------------------

   That night the two of you did, indeed, cuddle and wax philosophical for hours although that was sometime between showering and going for a round two. That day was the start of many moments with you. There were, of course, hiccups in it all, but it always ended up working out. He learns that love is constantly evolving and changing. The love that he held for you that night doesn't remain. It grows into something much more than any daydream could have ever seen for the two of you. Sometime's it's softer, especially on nights that the two of you lay in bed and just comfort each other after hard days. Sometimes it's a bit smug, like the time the two of you go home for Christmas and run into Shownu or the times you run into his previous flings. Sometimes it's a passionate frenzy. Sometime's it a bit haggard, especially on the nights that follow one particular passionate frenzy that results in your daughter who doesn't know how to sleep through the goddamn night until she's four. But the core concept that is love, the fact that the two of you want each other and want to face the world together? Well, that never changes. If anything, it grows stronger. Although, he still refused to admit even decades later that Minhyuk had a helping hand in sparking the moment that would start everything.

[atamascolily]

AND ANOTHER THING

So I’m putting together a timeline for the Star Wars Sequel trilogy based on Wookiepeedia, and I noticed some things:

5 ABY - Ben Solo born (conceived after Battle of Endor, yikes). 15 ABY - Rey born. 10-year-old Ben Solo begins training with Luke.

28 ABY -Ben is 23. He learns the truth about his heritage when Leia is ousted in a political scandal. Destruction of Jedi Temple. Ben turns to the dark and becomes Kylo.  Luke goes into exile (???). 34 ABY  [six years later] - Events of TFA. Rey is 19. Kylo is 29. TLJ picks up where TFA leaves off.

First of all, Ben isn’t a child when he and Luke have that kerfuffle; he’s a grown-ass adult. I don’t believe Luke Skywalker would try to murder his nephew, even though canon insists that he does, but I have zero sympathy for the manchild we see in TFA and TLJ who ought to know better and doesn’t. If he were Rey’s age, I’d be willing to cut him a lot more slack. 

Luke standing over him with a lit lightsaber is traumatizing, yes, but Kylo doesn’t even ask, “Hey, what the hell are you doing?” either before or after he reacts. He just blasts Luke away, sets the place on fire, and runs. (It’s unclear in the films if he deliberately kills the students or if their deaths are accidents. It’s also unclear in the films if the students he takes with him are kidnapped or if they’re co-conspirators / turn to the Dark themselves. Given how cavalierly Kylo murders people in TFA and TLJ, however, I find TLJ’s decision to suggest, “hey, you were wrong to jump to conclusions about Kylo” is... odd. Even if he wasn’t evil then, he chose to become evil. That wasn’t Luke’s doing!!! Rey is right on the money when she tells Luke that “Kylo failed you”.) 

Keep in mind that the OT never tried to justify Vader’s crimes ex post facto by saying he was misunderstood. Vader is presented as genuinely evil, right up until the point where he saves Luke, and it’s a surprise for everyone because there’s literally no warning that it’s coming. That act doesn’t undo all that’s come before. It just shows that there was room for him to be different. That’s different from what I see TLJ trying to do.

I’ve noted the age gap between Kylo and Rey before; it’s one reason why I am personally squicked by a romantic relationship between them. Though they would both be considered legal adults in the US, there’s a big age and experience gap between most 19-year-olds and most 29-year-olds, and so while a relationship could work in theory, it would likely be an exception rather than the rule. (Per XKCD, the general rule of thumb for age gaps in relationships is [half your age + 7] - so Rey is 2 years younger than the rule suggests is appropriate.) Rey is exceptionally mature for her age; Kylo notably less so--I don’t see it working out.

Of course, the age gap isn’t the only reason this pairing doesn’t appeal - the torture/mind rape sequence alone would make this a NOTP for me - but it really doesn’t help.

Also, as an aside, please note that 28 ABY was a hell of a year, and there’s barely any information about it in canon, despite the fact that it’s so freakin’ pivotal in shaping the ST’s world. There’s Bloodline, which is about Leia’s heritage becoming public (which I have not read, so I’m super-fuzzy on the details) and the Rise of Kylo Ren comic series... and that’s pretty much it.

But the reason I mention the age gap is because The Rise of Skywalker decided that Kylo and Rey were two halves of some mystical “Force dyad” (try saying that with a straight face!) and I... have some questions. Like was Kylo always one half of the dyad for ten years, just hanging out all by his lonesome until Rey finally popped into existence to “complete” him (ugh) or what? How does that even work??

(Wook says The Rise of Skywalker: Expanded Edition includes a bit about how Palpatine tried to make a Force dyad with Vader and I just...how would that even work?? Please stop, you’re embarrassing yourself.)

The only way the stupid Force dyad business could even possibly make sense is if Kylo and Rey were Secret Twins--but the age gap makes that impossible. Literally all of the stuff that the narrative uses to establish them as Star-Crossed Lovers would make just as much sense--if not more--if they were Secret Twins, but they can’t be Secret Twins because of the age gap. And I suspect the age gap was deliberate, precisely to rule out the prospect of Secret Twins in the first place because... the OT already did it? (I dunno, they didn’t have any problem re-creating most of the stuff from the OT into the ST, right down to superweapons and Emperor Palpatine, so I honestly don’t know why they drew the line at the Secret Twins thing, which would have at least made sense.)

But you know where else we see this kind of age gap?  Let’s roll over to Legends, shall we?

7 BBY - Kyp Durron born.

9 ABY - Jacen and Jaina Solo born. Kyp is 16.

11 ABY - Events of the Jedi Academy trilogy by Kevin J. Anderson: Kyp Durron turns to the dark side based on the urging of a Sith ghost, fights Luke, destroys the suns of several systems, and is brought back to the light by Han Solo. Kyp is 18. Jaina is 2. 

So there’s a slightly bigger age gap between Kyp and Jaina, but everything else maps out so perfectly between those two and Kylo and Rey that it’s just... blindingly obvious the writers were trying to have it all ways by mashing a Kyp/Jaina storyline with the Jacen vs. Jaina storyline, plus mixing in the Dark Empire plot  in for good measure. In my opinion, it does not work.

Also, lest you call me a hypocrite because I admit to shipping Kyp/Jaina on occasion, let me be clear: I don’t ship this pairing when Jaina is 19 and Kyp is 35--not only because of the age gap, but because Kyp is her teacher at that point, and that is is a major squick for me. But when Kyp is 50, Jaina is 34, she’s not his student anymore, they’ve both matured, and the creepiness equation cited above is in their favor. Context matters.

Anyway, I don’t understand how a Force dyad works, and I don’t think the writers do either, because none of their explanations make any sense. The only reason Rey and Kylo are a dyad is Because The Writers Said So. That’s it. It’s the Soulmates trope taken up to 11 because in theory everybody should have a soulmate, but there’s literally only one Force dyad ever, because they’re just That Special.

And the whole business was  even more offensive once I realized that Anakin was allowed to be the Chosen One all by his lonesome, but Rey is only complete when she’s bonded with Kylo as a Force dyad (despite someone being able to embody All of The Jedi At Once without him). What, and I mean this literally, the fuck.

Anyway, in my fix-it fic, things are a little more straightforward: Kylo tried to mind-rape Rey in TFA, as per canon, and when Rey fought back and pushed him out of her mind, the trauma triggered a lot of her latent Force powers. Each of them picked up stuff from the other’s mind as a consequence of Kylo’s unskillful digging, and it left them with a lingering connection that shows up in TLJ’s “Force Skype” conversations at unexpected intervals, which Rey believes Kylo to be doing on purpose.

Legends!Luke postulates that Rey is unable to keep Kylo out because of her own internalized self-doubt and trauma and works to change that as he works with Rey. The culmination of that arc is for her to deliberately set her boundaries and defend them successfully with skill and control, rather than pure instinct--basically, to revisit the trauma in TFA and change the ending.