#also trying to use the tags for additional answer bits it looks kind of awkward but it will come into play later. trust

[ask-opsys]

Where do you think all of these marketable plushies of the managers are coming from? I mean, cogs inc don't really seem like the type to make plushies, or... anything fun, really.

[cinnamoonblue]

Chapter I | Lucky you

Summary: One reckless night leads to the biggest and most unexpected change in your life. How will this affect your current life and how you and the charming stranger you met only once will manage to handle the bringing of a new life to this world together is a challenge yet to be discovered. Will you be able to make the right choices while battling your own demons? Who knows, all you must be worried about now is that your period is late...

Main characters: Portgas D Ace x Reader

Supporting characters: Marco, Thatch, Whitebeard, Luffy, Sabo, Nico Robin, Boa Hancock, Isuka

Description: Modern AU | Firefighter Baby Daddy!Ace

WARNINGS: english is not my first language, explicit language, NSFW, 18+ only, contains explicit sexual themes and content, use of alcohol, slow burn, conflicted feelings, conflicted relationship, emotional distress, jealousy, suggestive themes, previous toxic relationships, mention of depression, mention/description of pregnancy, strangers to co-parents to lovers, mentions of a lot of anxiety, mentions of cheating, mentions of mental trauma, social anxiety (+ more warnings will be added if needed to)

Additional tags: Reader is super awkward and has social anxiety and low-self esteem but this changes (I don't want to spoil), Ace is emotional invalid when it comes to love, but this also changes (no spoilers)

WORD COUNT: 16,2K

main masterlist | story masterlist | next chapter ->

NOTE: I'm so excited for this story and what is about to come out of it and the journey I have planned for Reader and Ace. I really hope that you guys will like it as much as I enjoy writing it. I'll yap more in the end note, so for now enjoy ♡

Positive. All three tests show the same results, from the cheapest to the most expensive one the answer is clear – you are pregnant. Or better said – knocked up. This is everything else but a planned pregnancy.

Sitting on the tailed floor of your bathroom you try to take deep breaths but nothing your therapist has taught you works. Your heart is about to explode, and your mind is going wild. Panic is slowly overtaking you.

How did this happen? It was just one time. The one single time you let yourself have a one-night stand after almost two years without any sex or interaction with a man of any kind and you end up knocked up? This must be some kind of a joke.

5 weeks earlier

The waiting room of your therapist’s office has an inviting atmosphere, with two comfortable white fluff armchairs to sit on while you wait for your turn. A plush rug lay on the floor, muffling the sound of footsteps and creating a sense of serenity. Magazines and books are neatly arranged on a small modern glass table, offering a variety of reading material to distract anxious minds. Potted plants and tasteful artwork adorned the room, and the smell of lavender fills out the space.

Despite the calm atmosphere you are always a bit anxious before your therapist visits. Playing nervously with your fingers as you pull the edges of your hair has been a habit of yours when you are nervous since you can remember.

The reason why you went to therapy was because you have ended a three-year relationship, or your ex-partner did. During those three years you have lost a big part of yourself and who you are... were. If someone three years ago told you that you will end up in a toxic and mentally abusive relationship you most likely wouldn’t have believed them. The man you had fallen in love with, wasn’t the same man who you felt out of love and broke your heart and spirit.

It has taken you a lot and it still does to bring yourself back piece by piece, but slowly and steadily with the help of your therapist and close friends you are getting back on your feet.

The door to her office opens and you slightly lift your head. Watching your therapist sending her current patinate away with a warm encouraging smile, with whom you don’t dare to make any eye contact with; with that same smile she looks at you and invites you to enter her office. Giving her a small nod you get up and leave the comfort of the soft armchair and walk to her with a shy smile.

Walking into the now very familiar office, you take your usual spot on the nice light brown leather sofa placed in the middle of the room, next to her comfortable armchair made of the same leather. The walls painted in soothing shades of white and beige create a harmonious and calming backdrop. Natural light filters through large windows, gently illuminating the room and casting a warm glow. Potted plants add a touch of nature, while the painfully familiar artworks on the walls contribute for the minimalistic aesthetic of the office.

Once you put your bag and jacket aside you turn to your therapist as she closes the door and takes a seat on her chair. Nico Robin, a nice, intelligent and extremely gorgeous woman, an expert in her job, is the person who helps you to get back on your feet for the past ten moths. A close friend of yours at work has recommended you her and until this day you feel like you own your friend a huge favour for this. Who know how deep of a hole you would have dig yourself into if it wasn’t for your friend suggestion one day for you to go to therapy.   

“How are you feeling today (Y/N)?” She asks crossing her legs one over the other as she opens her notebook and waits for your response. “I love how your hair is today. Have you been to the hairdresser?”

Nodding with your head you give her a confident smile before your response, “I’m good and quite excited. And yes, I was before I came here. I thought to myself – why not treat myself today.”

 “I’m so happy you’re slowly getting this mindset back. You deserve it. What are you feeling excited for today?” Taking her glasses off she leans back on her armchair with curiosity spread across her features. So far into your sessions you have never mentioned being excited as current feeling; sad, lonely, confused, scared, lost, from time to time good, are your usual response, but excited – so far until today she hasn’t heard it from you.

“Well-” Leaning back on the sofa, you cross your legs and fix your posture to straighten your back a bit, but mostly to look more confident in what you are saying. “My best friend has a birthday today and we are going out, and surprisingly I really do want to go out. I haven’t felt like this in... well, you know. Months.” You chuckle with a half shrug.

Your self esteem and self worth have been broken to the ground after, and during, the time spent with your ex-partner. You recently gain some confidence to go out like you used to before. Because of all the things said from your ex, you felt like you must hide from the world. You felt so belittle that the thought of strangers outside of your family and friends to see you made your blood run cold, which also affected not only your personal, but professional life as well.

Now, thanks to the weekly therapy sessions with Nico Robin your confidence is slowly but steady coming back. Some weeks are better than the others, but you try not to get too hard on yourself, because the progress of getting yourself back together is acknowledge even by you.  

“I’m so glad to hear this. Have you threated yourself with a nice new outfit as well?” Robin smiles, more to herself than you as she hopes that you will give her a positive answer.

The first time you have walked into her office broke her heart a bit. She always keeps her professional behaviour, but seeing and hearing how a young beautiful woman like you had been constantly put down and unappreciated, while being the complete opposite off all those things made her blood boiled, especially from unsuccessful insecure men like the man who is now your ex.

“Yes, I did.” And you feel amazing about it. You don’t remember the last time you actually bought something that made you feel so desirable and sexy without doubting yourself. “Can you guess?” You playfully challenged your therapist.

She hasn’t seen much so far of this playful side of yours and she would be lying if she says that she doesn’t enjoy it. Parts of Robin feel like this is a glimpse of the old you, the one before your three years of hell. “A dress?”

“Mhm.” Humming you encourage her to continue with further guesses about the dress.

Bringing one endpiece of her glass’ frame close to her lips and biting it Robin takes her time to answer you. No matter where this outburst of confidence comes from, you won’t be so bold to go for something revealing, so it should be still something nice and convenient. “Maybe a long floral or one-color dress.”

“No.” You shake your head with a small sly smile.

“Knee high length?” Robin raises one of her brows.

Pulling one strand of hair behind your ear you shake your head again and give her the answer. “A little black dress.” A big smile spreads across your face and a laughter escape past your lips as you see the surprised reaction written on your therapist’s face. “And high heels. Red bottoms.”

For a moment and entirely purposely Robin drops her therapist persona and replies to you as a friend. “As you should and as you deserve. I’m proud of you.”

But this moment doesn’t last long as you are quick to brush it off as nothing. “It’s just a little black dress, me and probably twenty other women will be wearing the same outfit anyway.”

And here is the you she knows. Quick to belittle yourself as you are someone who doesn’t turn heads when she walks somewhere. You do, but sadly, you are too blind to see it yourself.

Going back to her professional persona, Robin moves a bit on her chair to make herself more comfortable, before she starts with the questions for which only you have the answers to help yourself. “Why did you belittle yourself again?”

The smile on your face fades quickly. “I don’t know.” You slightly shrug. “As I said, I won’t be the only one wearing this and this type of dress is always a safe play.”

“That’s true.” Robbin nods, agreeing with what you have said. “But you do know that you will get noticed tonight, right?” For some people the way Robin picks her words now might sound unprofessional, but she makes the choice of wording it that way purposely.

As much as you don’t want to have any kind of connection with any man right now, deep down you will be lying to yourself if you say that you won’t mind a glance or two from someone. At the end of the day, you are a young woman in her prime years trying to gain her confidence back and of course a man is not the key, but we are all human beings, one way or another we all look for some kind of validation or a sign that we are desired.

“In a way.” You quietly say, your voice comes out almost as a whisper. “But I doubt. I’m more looking for… for the feeling of looking myself in the mirror and say ‘wow, I still got it’.” Lifting your fist in the air and faking a fake enthusiasm makes Robin shake her head slightly.

“You’ve always got it.” She tells you confidently. “You must see it as well. Feel it.” Writing a few things down in her notebook, without looking at you she continues to speak. “But I asked you this not because I think you are looking for male attention, I’m asking because I know you will get some, and I want to know how you feel about this. Do you think what happened last time can happen again?”   

Taking a strand of your hair between your fingers, you swirl it around as you take your time to answer Robin. What will you do if someone approaches you? Definitely cut them off. You are not interested in any kind of interaction with a man, and you don’t think that you will be any time soon.

The last time a guy tried to hit on you was two months ago when you and your best friend Boa, went out for a drink in a bar close to your place. It was the first time in months that you got dressed up and ready to party, but sadly it didn’t last long. The guy was polite and nice, but the memories of your ex came back in the moment you felt the smell of the guy’s perfume as it was the same as your ex’s. It made you so uncomfortable. You had to grab Boa by the hand and drag her out of the place as fast as possible as you felt like you were choking for air. The night ended with you curled up in your best friend’s arms while crying on the sofa in the middle of your living room, reliving memories you have been trying to erase so badly.

“I don’t know what I will do.” You sigh avoiding your therapist’s eyes. There is a stubborn slip end on one of your hairs and you decide to focus on it while opening yourself up. “I don’t think that I’m ready to do anything, yet. Mostly because it’s hard to trust their intensions. My ex was also nice in the beginning, but it was all a mask.”

“But you must learn how to trust again, don’t you think?” There is no scolding or judgment in her voice nor eyes. Robin doesn’t want to make you feel bad; she wants to help you get out of your shell.

Nodding a few times you clicked with your tongue, shrugging still focused on your hair. “I know. I just don’t know how ready I am to do so.”

“Baby steps.” Robin says encouraging.

The rest of your session goes with talks about how you should try to relax in places such as bars and clubs. How you should slowly start getting out of your comfort zone, or like Robin likes to call it – your fear zone and start letting yourself going out a bit more.

“Imagine going out for a drink as another commercial deal you seal.” She gives you an example. “How do you manage so good at work if you feel so stressed out about something as simple as going out with friends in a place where a lot of people happen to be?”

A loud sigh escapes past your lips. “It’s different.”

“How so? Elaborate.” Playing with the pen between her fingers, Robin leans on the palm on her hand and waits for your response.

“First – when it comes to work, I’m quite confident in what I do.” This is something no one can deny you.

While you were in university studying business and marketing, your mother arranged you a job as an intern in a television commercial company. There you met a lot of interesting people and got close to your boss, who happened to be an old college friend of your mother, who soon after you graduated, offered you a permanent job as marketing advisor for the company. You have been working there for five years now and just two years ago your interest changed and you decided to become an agent at the same company, representing mostly models from across the country.

“But also, work me and personal life me are two completely different people.” Most of your colleagues barely know who you are outside your job. You have always been very private in your life, only your closest friends know what is going on in it, and you are very selective with whom you let close to yourself.

Of course, in the past year, your work and personal self-mixed up due to the depression you had fallen into, but you are back on track now and you plan to keep it that way.

“Why do you think work you manages better?” Her intense blue eyes pierce through you.

“Because as you know I work mostly with models, and these people are always so confident or they fake it so well, therefore I must fake my confidence, too.” Letting go of the hair strand you wrap your hands around yourself, trying to protect yourself from being exposed, slowly getting back into your shell, your voice lowers almost to a whisper. “Fake it till I make it, I guess.”

Putting her notebook aside, Robin sits on the edge of her chair and reaches out, placing her hand gently on your shoulder. “There is the answer.” She says with a smile. “If you can fake it for the people you represent to sign them jobs, then you can fake it as something as simple as going out for a drink.”

“But you know the problem isn’t the going out for the drink.” You jokingly chuckle, trying to hide the uncomfortable feeling behind the lightness of your tone.

“I know.” Pulling away from you, the dark-haired woman nod. “That is why tonight I want you to do exactly what you said.” She gives you a challenging smile as you turn your head in confusion towards her. “I want you to fake this confidence the moment a man approaches you and just try to not think much of it, and remember – you always, and I mean it, always have the choice over what you want and need.”

With a deep sigh you nod. “I’ll try my best.”

“You said it yourself – fake it till you make it. Sometimes we must do things that make us uncomfortable for the sake of overcoming them. You’re strong. I believe in you.” She gives you a little wink before you continue with another topic.

-

The laughter around the table and the cheers of another round of champagne echoes as you celebrate your best friend’s birthday. You have gathered in one of the latest most popular and fancy restaurants in the city, and Boa, being Boa, has booked one of the private dining rooms in the restaurant for only you and the rest of your group of friends.

The room is dimmed lighted, creating this nice and welcoming atmosphere. The walls are painted in a serene shade of off-white colour. The centrepiece of the room is a long oval dining table made of white marble. A lush arrangement mix of white peonies and lilies are arranged along the centre of the table, their delicate petals contrasting beautifully against the neutral backdrop, among with the white candles and their soft, ambient lighting casts a warm glow over the table, the gentle shadows of them dancing on your faces.

The overall effect is one of understated luxury, something Boa has grown up with and always chase, where every detail has been carefully considered to create an atmosphere of refined elegance and comfort for her special day.

You two have been best friends since first grade. She has been your rock many times in life, and you were hers. Boa is the sister you have never gotten to have, and you are the same to her, even though she has two younger sisters, you have a higher spot in her heart than them.  

Before you know it, you two and the rest of the girls are saying goodbye. All of you are tipsy, and tomorrow all of you must work as it is Wednesday and Boa is leaving in the afternoon for a photoshoot abroad for a famous brand, which means she will be gone for at least a week, and she doesn’t want to miss celebrating her birthday with her friends. Till this day you can’t believe that she trusts you so much to a point that when you decided to become an agent, she immediately left her old one and switched to you and the company you work for.

“Girl, you and I are not going home yet.” She wraps one arm around your shoulders and leans on you, clearly drunk.

Giggling, as you have also drunk a bit too much of champagne, you try to reason her. “But we have work tomorrow, and you have a flight to catch. Don’t you wanna be fresh in the morning?”

“I wanna party with my best friend.” She leans more of her bodyweight on you, which makes you trip almost by sending you both on the ground, as maintaining your balance on high heels while being quite tipsy is something you are not very good at.

You both laugh loudly as you pull away from one another. “Okay, okay. Where should we go?” You raise your hand up to call a taxi to pick you up and drive you to some bar you two usually end up going to.

It doesn’t take long for one to stop. Both of you take a seat at the back and as you are about to tell the taxi driver where to drive you, your friend has something else in mind interrupting you before you can tell the driver where to take you. “Mister, please take us to some cheap old rock bar.” She drunkenly laughs.  

“What?” You turn your head to her in disbelief.

Boa laughs ones again, before nodding to the driver to drive to where she has told him to. “Relax.” She pushes your shoulder playfully. “We are trying something new tonight.” With an unbothered shrug she leans back on the seat and closes her eyes for a minute.

“I don’t mind, but… is it safe?” As much as you are drunk, you are still quite aware of all the possible dangers there might be, especially in a place such as cheap bars.

“It will be, trust me.” Boa replies and takes your hand in hers, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I need to let go a bit tonight, so I thought maybe a game or three of pool might help with some cheap tequila.”

You are about to protest when you remember what you had promised your therapist earlier today. That you will try to fake it till you make it, and this is an opportunity to do so.

“Fine, but nothing too crazy.” Pointing your finger at her warning, she just laughs at you.

The taxi driver soon stops the cab in front of some local bar that looks more like a pub, but neither you nor Boa protest. You pay the man and both of you get out of the taxi. “I just hope that they have a pool table, that is all I want.” Boa tells you as she takes your hand and leads the way inside.

Entering the place a lot of eyes are on you two. You with your little black dress with sheer black high stockings and Boa with her long red dress with a slit are definitely not dressed for a local pub.

“I don’t like this.” You whisper to her as she makes your way to the bar. “A lot of people are looking at us.”

Looking over her shoulder, she winks at you. “They always are.” Reaching the bar, she lets go of your hand and turns towards you. “Plus, the place is not bad.”

Boa is right. The place is not bad. It is not the usual place you and she are used to hanging out in, but it is not a bad place.

The bar is quite big and there are a lot of people around it or sitting around the tables across the main floor. The dim lighting casts a warm glow over the space, and the walls are covered with posters of legendary rock bands. The air buzzes with youthful energy as groups of friends laugh and chat, their voices blending with the rock music playing in the background.

Towards the back of the pub is the area with a few well-worn pool tables. The clinking of billiard balls and the occasional cheer from a winning shot add to the lively atmosphere.

Despite the initial wariness, you find the environment surprisingly inviting. It’s a place where everyone just seems to be enjoying the night, letting loose and having a good time.

“Here.” Boa says as she hands you a beer in hand. She knows that you are not a fan of beer, neither is she, but by the looks of it tonight you both are doing something out of your usual comfort zones. “I also got us a shot of tequila.” Following her gaze, you see the bartender pouring two shot glasses with the transparent liquid.

“You’ll be the death of me tonight.” You sigh, shaking your head as you grab the shot glass and cheers with her before drinking the shot in one go. The after taste burns your insides and you bite on the lemon as fast as you can so you can get rid of it. “God, I hate tequila.” Your whole-body shiver as the sourness of the lemon hits your tastebuds.

“Your nineteen years old self used to say otherwise.” Your friend makes fun of you, reminding you of the times when you were wild teenagers.

Sarcastically rolling your eyes with a shake of your head you tell your friend, “Uh, I wish I was her again.”

Boa gives you one encouraging smile before raising her own beer glass “I think we are slowly getting her back.” Hearing her saying this gives you a little boost of confidence. Clinking the beer glasses you both take a sip of it and make a face after swallowing the alcohol beverage.

Shaking your head with disgust you put away the beer and tell your best friend to go wait for a pool table while you buy new drinks for you. Boa doesn’t need to be told twice before she turns around and makes her way to the back of the bar.

While you are busy ordering your new drinks, not paying attention to the people around you, a few tables away from you three men are sitting, sipping beers and playing cards.

The day shift at the fire station has gone smoothly, which means there were no emergency calls. The three men sitting around the worn-out wooden table at the bar are here not only to relax a bit after long hours at work, but also to celebrate the possible rank promotion of one the youngest member in their department.

“I still can’t believe Pops select you for a Captain, skipping two whole ranks at the time.” Thatch, a tall man in his early forties, with a light brown hair styled with a lot of gel to stay sleek back, chuckles amazed but proudly as he puts a card down, waiting for his colleague and friend to make his move.

Marco, a man in his forties, sitting right next to Thatch, lightly hums as he pushes his glasses on the bridge of his nose. “Our boy is slowly making sure to catch up to us.” Glancing with his light brown eyes at his young colleague and dear friend, he waits for his next move.

Taking his sweet time with his next move the raven-haired young man in front of them just smirks before taking a sip of his beer and placing it back on the table. Running the tip of his finger on top of the cards in his hand he finally picks one and confidently places it on the table.

“Am I catching up to you or are you slowing down?” His cocky smirk grows bigger as the card wins him the game.

“Your luck is through the roof today.” Thatch groans as Ace reaches to take the pile of cards.

“Lucky me, what can I say.” Ace says handing the cards to Marco to shuffle them so they can start a new game. “Still, just because I was selected doesn’t mean I’ll be approved.”  

“You will be Ace.” Marco encouraging nods as he shuffles the cards. “If Pops recommended you himself, that means he sees a lot of potential in you and your skills.”

“Plus, the salary you’ll get once promoted will get you that dream car of yours faster.” Thatch winks at him, knowing how to motivates the younger guy, who is like a little brother to both him and Marco.

Letting out a boyish laugher, Ace nods a few times. He has been saving to buy his childhood dream car for four years now and he is so close to reaching his goal. For a lot of people, the amount of money and time he has spent on saving for something such as a car is ridicules, but to Ace – it is the most logical thing he could do in his mid-twenties.

Independent and in his prime, Ace is living life the way he has always wanted to live it – freely and without regret for anything. Every choice he has made so far has let him to better days. He regrets nothing. He doesn’t regret dropping off college to become a firefighter. Helping people has always bring him joy, but so does the adrenalin of doing dangerous activities, and what is more challenging than throwing yourself in the flames of a burning building while trying to save someone’s life.

“Until they approve Pops’ recommendation, I can’t get my hopes up.” Taking the cards in one hand and looking at the hand he has gotten, Ace mentally smirks to himself – another win is on the way to him.

“Don’t think much about it.” Marco calmy tells him, putting the first card on the table. “After all, getting approved is the easy part, the exams and the physical test on the other hand ar-” Before he could manage to finish his sentence, he gets interrupted by his phone ringing. Pulling it up from the front pocket of his pants, he excuses himself from the table once he sees that it is his wife calling.

“I’m so happy I don’t have these problems anymore.” Thatch points with his eyes to where Marco left. He and his ex-wife divorced a year and a half ago, and since then the relationship between them has improved. The tone has gotten friendlier, no more fight, but more agreements as they must share custody over their teenage daughter.

“And I’m so happy I’ll never have them.” Ace snorts as he draws a card from the pile.

Thatch can’t help but laugh at his young friend’s comment. “Oh, Ace. I can’t wait for the day you’ll get swept away by a girl and I pray I’ll be there to witness it.”

“You can only dream about this day.” The young rebel guy response. He has made up his mind a long time ago about relationships and the whole family idea – he doesn’t want it. He has seen what married life or being in a relationship has done to most of his colleagues and friends, of course not all of them are bad – Marco being the best example of them all. He and his wife were high school sweethearts and have been together for more than twenty years with three kids, the youngest being five years old.

But this doesn’t come only from his friends’ experience, it also comes from the way he has grown up. Ace never understood the relationship between his mother and father. His father was gone most of the time, working as captain on cargo ships, and while it provided good for their family, Ace can say that most of his life he grew up without a father as he was never home.

“Didn’t it almost happen?” Thatch knowingly raises one brow at Ace.

Rolling his eyes with a sarcastic chuckle, Ace shakes his head. “No, not even close.”

“Really? I’m quite sure it you two were almost there.” Placing a card down on top of Marco’s one, Thatch leans back on the benched seats.

“What?” Ace looks at him with a surprised look on his face. “No, Isuka and I were not even close to anything as being in love or whatever.”

“Yet, you spent two years being on and off.” Putting his cards faced down on the table as Marco hadn’t returned yet, Thatch crossed his arms across his chest.

Doing the same thing with his own cards, Ace places them face down on the wooden table and leans back on his chair, propping his hand on the top of the chair next to him, he looks at his friend with a look that says that he is very wrong. “We spent two years on and off because when she stopped chasing me, I was interested in chasing her and vise versa.”

He and Isuka haven’t been in contact in more than six months, and this has been a big relief for Ace. The situation between him and his ex-girlfriend, if he could even call her this, was nothing else but a hot mess. Both were not ready at all to make any compromises, both thinking in many cases and situations being better than the other, both playing games, but most of all neither of them ready to settle, or at least Ace wasn’t ready.

The last time they saw each other was also the last time they fought over where they stood. For Ace it was clear – just people who have sex with each other from time to time and hang out if they really don’t have anything else to do. But to Isuka it wasn’t like this. She wanted something more than just being fuckbuddies with a man she has fallen for. She was tired of the games and so was Ace, but in the end while she felt like he was the right person for her, he did not feel the same way about her.

There was something that was missing. Ace couldn’t never find full comfort in her company or look at her and be like ‘Wow, I’m so lucky to have this woman by my side.’, even though Isuka was the full package – beautiful, smart, well established in her carrier, but Ace just couldn’t see himself with her. He couldn’t see himself with her or anyone else. Not because he didn’t want to. He tried. He tried many times, especially with Isuka, but at the end of the day something wasn’t enough for this magical moment of a click between two people to happen.

That is why, six months later now, he never tried to contact her again or response to one of her messages she sent a while ago.

He doesn’t mean to be rude to her or an asshole, but it just doesn’t feel right to let her on once again or tired to be friends as this has been clear from the start that it would be impossible between them especially after sleeping together for the past two years.

Ace has always believed that the friendship between a man and a woman who have had intimate relationship is impossible, and his situation with Isuka has been already complicated it doesn’t need to get any more than that.

“I’m actually glad we ended it.” He murmurs more to himself than Thatch.

Walking back into the now a bit too crowded bar, Marco grabs his jacket in a hurry before turning to the guys. “I’m sorry guys, my youngest is with a very high fever and we must get home.”

“Oh, poor champ.” Ace says, giving Marco a sympathizing look. He knows Marco’s family very well. On a few occasions he and his wife have even dropped the kids off to Ace to look after them while they go out for a date night or they must do some kind of a work which doesn’t allow them to have the kids around. “Tell him I’m buying him some ice cream when he gets better.”

“He’ll make sure to keep this promise, you know.” Pointing with his finger at Ace warningly, Marco lets a little laughter escape his lips. “It was nice to hang out with you guys. See you tomorrow.”

“Take care, say hello from me.” Thatch calls after Marco before he leaves. Turning back to Ace, Thatch gives him a mischievous look, one that tells Ace that nothing but trouble will be following them for the rest of the night. “As much as I love Marco, with a married man around is hard for two single men to have fun, am I right Ace?”

“You were married until a year and a half ago yourself - don’t forget that.” This reminder from Ace made Thatch roll his eyes.

“But I’m not anymore.” Leaning with his body closer to the table, Thatch put his elbows on the table and nods at Ace to lean closer. “I saw two gorgeous women walking in like ten minutes ago. I think they are by the pool tables. Wanna go say hello?”

Turning his head where the pool tables are Ace tries to see the girls Thatch is talking about but there are too many people standing on the way for him to take a look. Shaking his head he turns back to his friend. “Nah, man. Not tonight.” Grabbing the handle of the beer mug Ace lifts it to his lip to drink the last sip of it. “You want one more?”

Thatch rolls his eyes with a click of his tongue. “Sure, but you’re not fun.”

Laughing at him, Ace stands and makes his way to the bar. It doesn’t take long to get new beers but coming back to their table he finds it empty. Taking a deep breath in, he turns to where the pool tables are and see his friend standing there talking to a girl a bit taller than him, in a red dress, dressed up a bit too much for a local bar like this one.

Shaking his head in disapproval, Ace makes his way to his friend. “Thatch!” He calls out the man’s name who sometimes tends to go far and beyond for the lady’s attention.

“There he is.” Thatch excitedly announces, reaching with his hand to Ace, signalling him to come faster. “This is my friend Ace – Ace this is Boa.”

Leaving Ace, no choice but to shakes the girl’s hand, he places the beers on the side of the pool table, before taking her hand in his to introduce himself. “I’m sorry if he’s bothering you.” He is quick to apologise.

It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that Boa is far from Thatch’s level. Tall, gorgeous, built like a model, who knows she might even be one, would never pay attention to a man like Thatch, who even for his forty something years still looks very good.

“Are you kidding me? Your friend here is so much fun.” Boa gives Ace a small smirk before she turns back to Thatch. “So, you’re saying you can beat me on pool?”

“Well darling, I’m not just saying it, I plan to prove it.” Thatch returns the smirk, grabbing the cue stick from the table. “Would your friend mind?”

“No, she won’t.” Boa replies as she accepts Thatch’s challenge and leans over the table to collect the pool balls. “You can play one game with her after I made your friend cry.” She tells Ace while placing the balls in the triangle.

“Oh, Boa now you get me fired up.” Thatch chuckles. “Where is your friend by the way?”

“Toilet. She’ll be here any second now.”

Hearing this Ace rolls his eyes a bit. The last thing he wants right now is to watch his friend playing billiards, while he must entertain Boa’s friend.

Despite what people might think of Ace, usually being either a player or a guy who gets lot of attention from girls, he is the quite opposite. He is very selective. Yes, he might flirt here and there, but that’s it. Neither he is a fan of one-night stands. Not like he hasn’t had his fair share with them, but it isn’t something he really is looking forward to, especially tonight.

Taking his beer from the pool table, Ace steps back and leans with his elbow on one of the side high tables. Pulling his phone from the back pocket of his jeans he starts scrolling, not paying much attention to his friend and the girl in front of him.

Coming back from the toilet and seeing your best friend playing billiards with some man made you sigh. ‘Great, now I’ll be third wheeling.’ you can’t help but think. It is not a surprise for you though. Boa has always had all eyes on her. Usually when you two go out, or with the rest of your friend group, men tend to go and try to hit on her first. They are never successful most of the time, so seeing this man who is obviously older than you two, playing with her is a bit of a surprise, but tonight is all about trying something new, right?

Walking next to her, you tap her on the shoulder, as she is waiting for the man to shoot his shot. Turning around to face you, a big smile places on her face. “Oh, there she is.” She excitedly exclaims, catching the man’s attention. “Thatch this is (Y/N), (Y/N) this is Thatch.”

The man walks to you and gently shakes your hand. “Sorry for taking your place here.”

You wave you hand to brush him off. “It’s fine don’t worry. I’m not even good at billiards.” Cucking softly, you reply.

Coming next to you Boa places the palms of her hands on your shoulders as she leans closer to you with a smile. “Thatch here is not alone. He’s here with a friend.”

It takes all your willpower not to roll your eyes. Last thing you want to do tonight is wasting your time engaging in conversations with some forty years old man’s friend. Faking a laughter and a smile you reply, “Oh, how nice.”

“Hey, Ace come meet (Y/N).” Thatch calls out his friend’s name. Turning your head to the direction where both Boa and the man are looking, at the same time a guy your age looks up from his phone and your gazes meet.

Strangle enough your heart skips a beat the moment your eyes lock. Getting up from the chair and putting his phone in his back pocket the guy takes a few steps and stands in front of you. He is tall, well built – muscular but not too much to a point where to question if he takes something to be built like this or not, raven black hair with dark brown eyes and freckles all over his cheeks, dressed in a simple white T-shirt and a pair of blue jeans, he is pretty good looking. A bit too good looking. You don’t remember the last time you have found a guy this attractive from just one look at him.

Ace on the other hand is starstruck on his own. To be honest, he has imagined everything else, but a cute pretty face like yours. He thought that if Boa is this pretty there is no way that her friend could possibly be prettier, but he was wrong. Very wrong. Your eyes, your lips, your nose, the colour of your skin and the way the little black dress is hugging every inch of your curves makes his heart beat a bit faster than it should.

Clearing his throat, he reaches with his hand for yours. “Ace.” Is all he says. In response he gets your name. Your hands staying a bit too long in a handshake. When the realisation hits you both you are quick to pull away.

This doesn’t go unnoticed by neither Thatch nor Boa, but he is the first to speak. “You know, my boy Ace here is actually very good at playing pool, maybe he can teach you how to do it better.”

“Are you Ace?” Boa turns to him with a smile as she hands him her cue stick. “Go ahead, please. She really needs someone to teach her a thing or two about billiards.”

Shyness and awkwardness take over you in seconds. “N-no, it’s fine.” Turning to Ace you shake your head and pull your hands up a bit like a little kid who just got caught shoplifting a candy. “You don’t need to do this, I-I’m a lost cause.” An awkward chuckle leaves your lips. “Plus, they are not done with their game, right guys?” Turning to your friend and Thatch, you are met with disagreement from them.

“No, we’re pretty done, right Thatch?” Boa smirks.

“Yes, I think we are. Wanna go out for some fresh air?” He totally ignores the looks Ace is giving him. In Thatch’s mind his dear friend needs to get laid, and by the looks of it there has been an immediate spark between you two, so it will be a shame if you don’t get some alone time to get to know each other.

Without wasting any second Boa agrees to Thatch’s offer and before you and Ace can protest, they are out of your sigh.

An awkward silence takes over you both, despite the loud music and the people around you. Seeing how tense you are, Ace feels bad, so he decides to make the first move. Taking a step to you, he leans a bit closer so you can hear him better. “I’m sorry about him. I told him to not bother you or your friend.”

This closure gives you goosebumps, so you take one step away before you turn to face him. “No, please, no one is bothering anyone. He seems nice.”

“He is, but if you want us gone, let me know.” Winking at you, he walks to the pool table with the cue stick in hand. “Wanna play one round while they are out?”

Biting on your lower lip, you nod. “Sure, why not? But keep in mind I’m very bad at it.” Grabbing the other cue stick while he is rearranging the balls in the triangle, you shyly walk closer to him.

“Nice.” Ace says more to himself than to you as he removes the triangle and turns to you with a charming smile. “Wanna go first and break them?” Taking his cue stick again he goes to the other side of the table to look for the chalk. Finding it, he walks back and gives it to you.

Taking it from his hand you thank him before applying it to the tip off your cue stick. Leaning your body and positioning your fingers to stable the stick in your hand better on the pool table, you take a deep breath before hitting the white ball in the middle. It rolls and hits the rest of the balls, but they barely move.

Scrunching your face from embarrassment you turn to Ace. “Told you, I’m bad at it.”

“Nah, it was good. All you need is a little bit more force.” Instead of going for his turn he takes all the balls again and puts them for a start break. “Go on, just a little bit more force.”

Doing the exact same thing, but with a little bit more force now, this time when you break more than a few balls move. Sadly, none of them roll to one of the pockets in the table so now it is Ace’s turn.

From his first hit he manages to get one of the balls in one of the side pockets. After it he gets two more balls in before missing and it is again your turn.

This goes back and forth a few times, none of you speaking much, until the game is finished and of course, he wins.

Ace wants to engage in a conversation with you, he really does, but he can clearly see how tens you are, almost like you are uncomfortable around him as you keep your distance like you want to run away, which makes him a bit sad, but who knows maybe you have a boyfriend or you just don’t feel attracted to him at all. Your distance has grown even bigger after he has asked you to help you fix your posture while you were about to make your move, to which you give permission to him to touch you.

You on the other hand are still on fire after that touch from him. The way he has gently placed his hands on the back of your shoulders to straighten them and then the way he wrapped his fingers around your hand, moving your arms with his to make the hit. The feeling of his touch on your bare skin made you feel something you haven’t experience in a long time, and you can’t be sure if it is because of the alcohol or the effect this charming stranger has on you, but for some reason you could feel how your body temperature has risen up.

That is why, you create a bit of a space between you two, which for some weird reason does feel wrong. You want to speak with him, but there is this pressure in you, this feeling of anxiety that is slowly creeping up that you will mess things up, so maybe is better to now say anything at all. But saying nothing also feels wrong.

Building all the courage you can built in a span of a second you turn to him with a small smile, your fingers immediately find their way to the edge of one of your hair strands and start playing with it.

Clearing your throat to catch his attention better you finally speak up. “So, Ace – what brings you here tonight?” Leaning the back of your lower body on the pool table, your head is turned to him as you observe him.

This question takes him by surprise. So far all you have talked about was billiard or how bad you are playing it, nothing too personal. Leaving the cue stick on the pool table, he walks closer to you, half charming smile on his face as he leans with one hand on the table next to you. “Let’s say little promotion from work. What about you?”

“It’s Boa’s birthday.” You reply shortly, you breath caught up in your lungs from how close he is standing next to you. Giving him a quick glance before you look away, you shoot another question.  “W-what do you do for work?”

“I’m a firefighter.” His response catches your attention quickly.

“Wow, really? That’s amazing and so brave.” Letting go of your hair now your eyes are on his. “What made you become one?”

“It was a mixture of a few things.” He replies, a bit more focused on your face, for whatever reason trying to memories every spot or line there is on. “I’ve always love helping people, but I also love adrenaline rush, so this sounded like the best opportunity a few years ago.”

This sounds a bit familiar to you or the you, you used to be like. You still help people as much as you can if you are being asked to, but the adrenaline part? It has been years since you have done something spontaneous or crazy. “So, you’re a bit of adrenaline junkie?” You chuckle with a little playful smile which you don’t realize has appeared on your face, but Ace catches it immediately.

“Maybe a bit too much sometimes.” He smirks, crossing his hands over his muscular chest, he nods at you. “What about you?”

“What about me?” You awkwardly laugh, not sure if he asks about your job or if you are adrenaline chaser like him.

Ace can’t help but laugh a bit. He has notice that the moment the attention is turned towards you, you froze, which is in a way adorable, but it also made him wonder if he is the reason why you are so tens, or this is how you are usually. “Are you an adrenaline junkie, silly?”

You can feel the heat rushing to your face when he calls you ‘silly’. It is something in the way he says it, so unintentionally playful, yet made you feel like you are sixteen again. “No, I’m not.” You say with a shake of your head. “Used to be, but not anymore.”

The slight change of your tone doesn’t go unnoticed by Ace, for which he decides to test his luck and see if he can play around this. “So, there is a wild girl hidden somewhere behind the shy one I’m speaking to right now?”

He is smooth, you give him that. Biting on your lower lip you shyly shrug. “Yea, maybe.”

Nodding his head, Ace can feel that he is slowly starting to make you relax. After all you haven’t broken eye contact with him for a while now, so this is a good sign. “What can I do to get a glimpse of this wild side of yours?”

“What can you do, huh?” Laughing at his question you place two fingers under your chin, acting like you are trying to think of something before you answer him. “Hmm, maybe if you have a time machine and you meet me back in college then you will definitely have a glimpse of wild me.”

Clicking with his tongue he raises one brow at you. “Okay, which collage you went to, so I know where to go to?” Telling him the name of the college you went to makes his brows raise in surprise. “No way. Me too. Which year?” You tell him the year you started and graduated making him snort. “What a coincidence. Me too, but I dropped off after a year or so.”

You are as surprise as he is. Sure, your college was pretty big, but there is no way you two have never crossed paths before. You are sure you would have noticed him, after all he is quite the charm. “What program were you in?”

“Something about social studies. To be honest I don’t remember anymore.” Shrugging he brushes off the subject, as to him it doesn’t really matter. “This means you must be twenty-seven? Twenty-eight?”

“Twenty-seven.” You nod with a smile. “You?”

“Twenty-seven.” He returns the smile.

Ace is about to ask you something more when he gets interrupted by your friend Boa and Thatch, who comes after her with four shots in hand. “Hey, there you two.” Boa says as she wraps her arms around you. “How did your game go?”

“He beat me.” You quickly reply, looking at Ace from under your lashes as he gives you a little wink.

“She almost got me though.” Even though he is speaking to Boa, his eyes don’t leave yours.

“Guess we can take over next?” Thatch comes in between you three giving every single one of you a glass of shot in hand.

Bringing the glass to your nose to smell what’s in it, your face scrunches from the smell. “What is this?” You look at your friend with disgust.

“I don’t know.” She shrugs. “We just told the bartender to make something strong and... well, strong.”

Taking a step closer to you, Ace leans and whispers in your ear. “You don’t need to drink it if you don’t want to.”

Before you can answer, Boa interrupts having guessed what Ace might have told you, she points her finger at him warningly. “Oh, she must. This one needs this drink more than any of us here.” Moving her finger in your direction she commands you to drink.

“Thank you for trying.” You tell Ace as you raise you glass to your lips and drink whatever is in the glass. Boa and Thatch follow, leaving Ace no choice but to do the same.

Whatever was in this shot, it is now burning your insides. “God, I need water.” You say more to yourself than anyone else.

“Come with me.” Ace tells you, taking your hand in his as he leads the way to the bar where they have water.

To your surprise, you don’t feel as tens as you used to a like ten-twenty minutes ago. He somehow managed to build a bit of a trust in you, so having your hand in his, letting him lead you somewhere, doesn’t feel alarming at all. It feels okay. It feels like you can trust him.

Reaching the end of the bar where the water station is place, Ace pours a glass of water and hands it to you, but to do this he has let go of your hand, which you wish he could hold for a little longer. Thanking him you take the glass from his hand and quickly drown the glass.  

“Are you okay?” His voice sounds calm, but also concern for you, and you can see the same thing in his eyes.

“Yes, I’m. Thank you for asking.” Putting the empty glass to the side you give him a small smile.

“You know if you don’t want to do something you can always say no.” He doesn’t like the way your friend forced you to drink the shot, leaving you no choice when you obviously didn’t want to drink.

“I know. Don’t worry.” You are not sure what made you do this, it is probably the alcohol, but you reached for his hand and gently squeezed it. “She did it out of love, believe me.”

Ace is a bit too shocked by your action to acknowledge what you have just said to him. Part of him feels like he is a teenager again. All you have done is take his hand in your and give it a little squeeze, yet this simple gesture made his whole-body freeze.

Whatever was in this shot it starts to kick in. Your eyes are all focused on his hand. His skin is surprisingly soft, the palm of his hand is big, his fingers long and running your eyes up him arm, you can see the way his muscles are flexed, freckles here and there. “You know, if they are going to play now, I don’t really want to stand and watch, mostly because my feet are killing me in these heels.” Finally looking up to meet his eyes you give him a curious look. “What were you guys doing before joining us?”

Swallowing hard, trying to keep his cool, trying to ignore the way your fingers play with his, he gives you a short answer. “We played cards.”

Your eyes lit up when you hear this. “Really? I love playing cards! What game did you play?”

“Poker.”

“Wanna play?” You ask him with playful flame light up in your eyes.

Raising his eyebrows in surprise Ace smirks. “You know how to?”

“Maybe.” Returning the smirk, you trace your finger on the back of his hand. “Play with me and you’ll find out.”

You are drunk. There is no way that the shy girl a few minutes ago and this new playfully version of her now are the same person if there isn’t alcohol involved. Or maybe this girl is there all the time, hidden behind many layers of who knows what, but Ace is not going to back down now, when he is finally catching this glimpse of you.

“You want me to play with you, huh?” He can’t help but tease you. Biting on your lower lip you slowly nod. “Alright pretty girl. I’ll play with you.” Nodding slowly, he smirks. Looking down at where your fingers are tracing up and down his forearm, he gently grabs it and pulls you closer to him.

This action itself makes you instinctively put your other hand on his chest. His chest feels exactly how it looks – defined and muscular. Looking at him from under your lashes your breath gets caught up in your lungs, and he has caused this to you how many times tonight? Two? Three? More?

Leaning closer to whisper in your ear, as even with your heels on he is still a bit taller than you, the way his breath tickles your skin gives you goosebumps. “What do we bet on then?” Pulling away to look at your eyes, a cocky smirk grows bigger in his face. “I mean, what do I get after I win?”

Faking a dramatic gasp, you take a small step back, pulling your hands away from him and crossing them over your chest. “What makes you think you’ll win?”

Hearing the playfulness in your voice, Ace chuckles. “Just a feeling.” He shrugs. 

“What do you want then?” One of the tables next to where you two are standing gets available and you point with your head towards it, indicating to Ace to follow you there. Taking a seat facing each other you still await his answer. “Come on, tell me. What do you win… if you win.” You say, matching his coy smile.

“If I win, and I will.” He says. “I want you to show me more of this wild girl, you mentioned earlier.”

Sober you would have back off from such bet. Hell, sober you probably wouldn’t have the courage to go this far into a conversation with some man you have just met, despite how charming the stranger is. But sober you is long gone, and after all tonight is all about trying something different, so why not?

“And what if I win?” You raise one brow challenging.

“Whatever you want sweetheart.”

Trying to ignore the nickname and how charming and smooth he can be, you look away for a moment to think what you would possibly want from him, but nothing is coming up in your mind. “I’m not sure, but I can decide once I beat you. Deal?”

Reaching with your hand across the table for a handshake to seal the deal, he takes your hand in his and give it a strong, but still delicate squeeze. “Deal.”

“Go on, bring out the cards.” You say, making the pupils of his eyes widen as he realises that they are in fact not with him.

“Um, give me a second and I’ll be back.” Getting up quickly from the chair he stops for a second and turns back to you before he makes his way to where Boa and his friend play billiards. “Do you want something to drink?”

You are not sure if drinking is the best idea, but why not? Why not get loose for one night? Nodding you tell him what to get you and he tells you to wait for him.

It is hard to explain how you are feeling currently. You are all over the place. You are excited, you feel energetic, you feel flirty, playfully; yet you also feel a bit anxious and stiff, but despite all this you feel good. You are having a great time, and you feel good. Right now, you are not sure if you are subconsciously faking it until you make it, but you are content. Plus, the company you have found tonight is quite enjoyable.

You are not sure how many minutes have passed since Ace has gone away, but he is back, which makes you turn all your attention to him. Placing your drink in front of you, you thank him.

Pulling up the cards he starts to shuffle the cards. “Since we aren’t betting on money, should we play it three out of five?” Setting up the cards in front of you and then him he awaits on your answer.

“Sure.” You reply with a confident coy smile.

Three out of five, turns to five out of eight. Five out of eight turns to eight out of ten. Eight out of ten wins turns into you two loosing tracks of time to a point where both your friends come to you to check if you want to leave but you tell them to leave you, because you are not done yet.

At first Boa wasn’t very convinced in leaving you with Ace, but it was the spark in your eyes that she hasn’t seen in a long time that made her wish you a good night and to text her once you are home.

You are totally lost in the moment with Ace. He is fun, he is charming, he is silly, he is so easy to be around. And also, he feels safe to be around. For whatever strange reason you trust him.

“Accept it, Ace.” You giggle as you win yet another hand.

Running a hand through his messy black hair, he holds his head with the palms of his hands. “You have to be kidding me.” Looking up at you with a big smile on his face he finally gives in. “Fine. You win.” Taking his glass of beer, he raises it to give you cheers.

Drinking the last sips of your drinks you place your elbows on the table leaning closer to him. “So now what?” The tone in your vice is a mixture of playfulness and genuine curiosity. You don’t want to say goodbye to him, not yet, but due to how empty the bar is starting to look, you are guessing that soon they are closing.

“You’re the winner. We do as you wish.” Mimicking your actions, he leans closer to you as well. His eyes focused on your lips. Your lipstick long gone, but your lips still look as alluring as he first saw you. It takes him all his willpower to withhold himself from grabbing your chin and pull you closer to himself to capture the taste, the feeling of having your lips on his.

You see and feel the way he is looking at you. The way he is looking at your lips. The way there is a new kind of light in his eyes, causing the sparkling of the same energy to start burn into you.

“I don’t want to go home yet.” The words leave you before you can process or stop them.

“Wanna come over to my place?” Ace, despite how drunk he is himself at this point, is aware of the risk how this might push you away, but something in him is telling that it is now or never.

At this point you are not sure if it is the alcohol, his company or the burning feeling of your skin that makes you slowly nod, eyes more focused on his lips now than his eyes. Eager to taste the feeling of his lips on yours.

-

How you have gotten to his apartment is a bit of a fog in your mind. All you remember is that you have called a cab and now you are at his place. His lips finally on yours. They feel exactly like you imagined them to be – full, soft and very skilful. You don’t remember the last time being kiss with so much passion and desire. It has been years.

But right now, caged between his hard muscular body and the door of his bedroom all your drunken mind can focus on is his burning kisses and his hands roaming around your waist and hips.

Ace is drunken by the taste of you. He feels like he can spend hours just covering you in kisses. You taste like the sweetest fruit he has ever tasted, despite all the alcohol you both have consumed.

Hearing your quiet and desperate whispers and moan drives him crazy. Finally allowing himself, he lifts the edges of your dress up to your waist and grabs a handful of your ass, squeezing it, causing a loud moan to leave your lips. “Fuck, you’re so hot.” He whispers against your lips as he slowly starts making his way down from your jawline, slowly trailing kisses down to your neck and collarbones.

Tracing his hands up to your waist and back he finds the zipper of your dress. He slowly unzips your dress despite his eagerness to trace the rest of your body with his lips.

With the dress off your body, you are left in nothing but your black stockings and underwear. Taking his sweet time observing every curve of your body he gets on his knees and start tracing kisses around your tummy, while slowly running his hands up and down your hips.

You are barely standing on your legs. If it isn’t for the support of the door behind you and the way Ace has your body pinned you would have probably already melted on the floor. The wetness between your legs grows with every passing second and you are not sure how much more you can take from his teasing.

It is like he has read your mind as he traces his finger on the waistband of your stockings, slowly slitting his index fingers on each side of your waist and taking them down. With the stockings finally off, he takes one of your legs in his hands and places it on his shoulder while holding you with his other hand steady around the waist. Running his fingers agonisingly slowly to you calf up to the outside part of your thigh, he trails the tip of his nose along the skin of your inner thigh, making you arch your back from the feeling of his breath there.

“God, your skin is so soft.” He says placing kisses on your inner thigh after every word. “You smell so good, baby girl.” Giving you a harsh squeeze on the thigh he softly bites on it, making you hiss from the mixture of pain and pleasure.

With tremble in your voice, you finally manage to say something. “Please.”

Looking up at you and meeting your pleading eyes, Ace lets go of your thigh and gets up on his feet. “Please what, baby?” Hints of teasingly mocking in his tone. Placing his hands on your waist he buried his head in the crook of your neck, leaving small kisses all over it.

Nothing but soft whines and whispers leave your lips, making Ace smile against the skin of your neck. “Come on, say it. Show me how much of a wild girl you can be.” Lifting his head from the crook of your neck, your eyes meet.

Finally, you wrap your arms around him, pulling him in a passionate hot kiss. Running your fingers all over his broad muscular shoulders up to his messy locks. This man has unlocked something in you tonight that you have thought you have lost long time ago – your passion, your sexuality, your desire.

Breaking the kiss, you lock eyes with his. Your chest raising up and down, your heart beating fast as you try to catch your breath and make up your mind. “Please, fuck me.” You whisper. “Fuck me like I’ve never been fucked before.”

Ace doesn’t need to be told twice. He lifts you up in his arms, your legs wrapped around his torso, while he carries you to his bed. Laying you down on it he finally takes off his T-shirt, making you realise that he has been dress the entire time until now.

Now with his shirt off, despite the darkness in the room and the only source of light being from the streetlights coming from outside the window, you get to finally not just feel but see his define toned up muscle body. You push yourself a bit with one hand on the bed to lift your body up so you can reach up better and trace your fingers from the top of his chest all the way down to his tone up abdomen and happy trail.

His skin is soft, from what the light allows you to see, you notice that he has quite lot of freckles spread across the top of his chest and shoulders mostly.

Pushing you to lay down on the bed he hovers over you and lock your lips in another passionate messy kiss. Reaching down to his jeans, you finally find the belt buckle. Feeling you struggling with unbuckling it, Ace pulls away from the kiss and take it off together with his jeans, leaving only his boxers on, which seems to grow tighter with each second.

You can’t help but bite your lip from the sign of the outline of his cock, hidden behind the tight material of his boxers. With the tips of your fingers, you trace down a path starting from the top of his happy trail to the outline of the tip of his member, following down the covered length.

This action alone makes Ace flex his abs and buckles his hips towards your hand, a hiss of pleasure leaving his lips. Hearing the sound of pleasure leaving his lips, this gives you the confidence to continue by stroking his member over his underwear.

“Oh yeah, baby girl. Just like that.” Throwing his head back, Ace close his eyes from the pleasure, making you give him one stronger squeeze, causing him to moan. He is melting in your hand and you are not even touching him properly but over his still covered dick.

Seeing how much effect you have on him, you raise your body a bit to pull him closer to you with your free hand and he follows. Without giving him any time, you start covering his neck with kisses.

Despite all the distractions from you, Ace’s hands make their way behind your back and unclamp your bralet, tossing it to the side without a care. Pulling away from you he shamelessly stares at your naked breast. “Fuck.” He breathes out, tracing with the top of his fingertip on the soft squishy outline of your chest making his way to your already hard nipples, barely touching while circulating his finger around, giving you sweet agonising pleasure.

You pull your hand away from his cock, letting your hands trace over his back muscles. The feeling of him on top of you making you crazy, while he covers your chest with kisses and softly punches one of your hard nipples. A gaps leaves your lips as he finally takes your other breast in hand and gives it a squeeze before wrapping his lips around your nipple, sucking on it, making your back arch.

“God, fuck me already.” You whine under him, hands buried in his hair, pulling it a bit.

Letting go of your nipple, he gives it one last kiss before he looks at you. “Oh baby girl, I’m not a God, but your prayer will be heard.” He chuckles with a smirk, hands going down to your panties. Hooking in two fingers on the waistband of the lacy material he takes them off, leaving you in nothing. Ace places his hands on your ankles, slowly moving them up to your knees, where he spreads them apart, making you all exposed to him.

Your chest is going up and down, heart beating fast as he places himself between your spread legs and hovering over you, with one hand holding himself up to not crush you and the other tracing up your thigh slowly reaching your dripping cunt.

“You’re dripping wet, baby girl.” His voice has gotten a bit raspier as he whispers in your ear, his hand now covering your pussy. Sliding his middle finger in between your lips to spread you apart you both share a moan of pleasure – you of the feeling of him finally touching you where you wanted him the most, and he from all the wetness and warmth he feels from your pussy.

Running his finger up and down, teasing your clit and entrance, Ace finally enters your burning hole with it slowly, giving you time to adjust despite how wet you are, and then he slowly start to move it, trying to find that sweet spot in you, while his thumb is on your clit, rubbing and playing with it.

The moment he curls up his finger and finds that sweet spot in you, you are turned into a hot mess under him. “More, fuck.” A loud moan escapes you. “More, Ace. Please.”

Sliding a second finger into you, Ace smirks as he traces sloppy wet kisses along your neck up to your ear, biting the soft part of it. “You greedy little thing, aren’t you?” He teases you, increasing the peace of his fingers.

“Yes. Fuck yes, I am.” You breathe out, body arching as you feel the sweet burning sensation of release forming in the bottom of your belly. “Please, don’t stop now.”

Mocking laughter comes from Ace as he takes one look at your face, your eyes barely open, lips parted. “You’re close, aren’t you baby?” He coos, moving aside a strand of your hair that has fallen over your face. Whining and nodding at him, he just chuckles at you. “Then don’t hold back, baby girl. Because I don’t plan to fuck you properly until I make you cum at least once before that.”

He doesn’t need to tell you twice, nor it would have mattered as your first wave of pleasure and release hits, and you are falling into pieces under him. Your gummy walls squeezing hard around his fingers, coating him with your pussy juices. You’re a mess under him and Ace loves it. “Yes, baby girl - that’s it. Let it all out.” He says as he continues to finger you not cutting off your pleasure and he doesn’t stop until he sees you calming down a bit from your high.

Removing his hand from you, he unapologetically takes his fingers in his mouth and licks them clean. “Damn, baby. You taste so good.” He tells you as he pulls away from you to reach out to the nightstand next to the bed. Opening the first drawer Ace grabs the first condom he sees and takes it. Getting up from the bed he finally takes down his boxers, the feeling of release hitting his bare skin.

He is not sure if his dick has been this hard ever before, but it doesn’t matter, because he is finally going to fuck you, and he plans to do it good. Ripping open the condom package he takes it out and slides it on his length. Getting back on the bed and nestling himself between your legs, he props his hands on each side of your head.

“Are you ready for one more?” He smirks, moving one of his hands away to guide the tip of his dick to your entrance.

Spreading your legs a bit more you are aching to finally feel him inside of you. If he has made you seeing starts just with his fingers you hope, he can do the same with his dick.

You have felt how big he is when you tease him earlier, but now with him slowly entering you, inch by inch, stretching you open for him with the just the tip of his dick, it makes you roll your eyes in ungodly pleasure mixed with a bit of a pain.

“Fuck! You feel so good.” Ace moans throwing his head back from pleasure once he gets all of him inside you. Your gummy walls wrapped around him in a tight warm grip. Noticing that you need some time to adjust on having all of him inside of you he places some kisses across your collarbones. “Tell me when you ready, baby.”

Wrapping your arms around his neck you just nod, giving him the permission to move. He doesn’t need to be told twice. Slowly, but hard Ace starts to rock his hips, moving steady in and out of you.

“Don’t go all nice on me now, Ace.” You grab his hair and pull his head up to make him look at you. “Fuck me.”

Freezing on top of you, he grabs your hand away making you let go of his hair as he stands on his knees, his body towering over yours. “I tried to be nice remember this.” He tells you before he grabs your hips pulling you even closer to him as he puts them on his shoulders. Now with your waist arch he gets a better access to your ass and gives it a hard smack, before he starts slamming into you.

His thrusts are fast and hard – exactly how you like it. His dick hitting all the right spots in you while his hands are gripping your waist strongly, keeping you in place. Seeing how much you enjoyed the slap on your ass, he does it one more time, causing you to scream his name with pleasure and your pussy squeezing around him. But your pleasure is quickly cut as he pulls away from you and your needy cunt.

“Fuck no.” He curses grabbing his hair with both hands in frustration. The condom has broken. Reaching to his nightstand to search for another one he can’t find any. Taking the broken condom off him he throws it to the side. Looking back at you and the confused look you have on your pretty face, your naked body spread across his bed, your pussy covered in your juices squeezing around nothing missing his dick he makes a quick choice one he hopes he won’t regret later.

Grabbing your face in both of his hands he gives you a sweet sloppy kiss on the lips. Tracing his hand down on your body to your clit he starts to play with it. “The condom broke. Please, tell me you’re on a pill.”

You heard nothing from what he says. All you can focus on right now is how good is he making you feel, which leads to your response being a moan, which Ace overhears for a yes – yes, you are on a pill.

Instead of getting to continue with what he has been doing, Ace tells you to turn around on your belly and lift your ass as high as you can. Doing exactly what he has told you, you embrace yourself with what is coming. The feeling of his dick until now in you has been a bit painful, but in this position, you in all fours, he is going to abuse the life out of your pussy.

Seeing the red mark formed on your ass cheek from before Ace can’t help but slaps you once more, watching the way your ass juggles from the impact of his slap. Guiding his dick to your entrance he taps it a few times with the tip, causing you to buckle your hips at him, begging him without words to fill you up with himself.

Sliding his dick in, both of you share a moan from the new sensation, the feeling like you have never been this close to anyone before is driving you both mad. Grabbing a handful of your hair, Ace pulls it, making you arch even more. “Now be a nice bitch and take it as the good girl you are.” He hisses with pleasure as he starts to rock his hips in and out of you unapologetically hard and fast.

You are a mess of pleasure and moans. The last time you have had sex was more than a year ago, maybe even a year and a half, and it wasn’t even good. But this man, right here and right now is literally rocking your world and you are willing to take every inch he has as long as the pleasure never leaves you.

Pulling your hair to get you closer to him as he leans to you, he whisperers in your ear. “You like being fuck like this don’t you? Like a little slut ready to take every inch I give to her.” In response you moan, but he wants more. “No, no, no. Use your words baby girl.”

“Yes, yes Ace.” You say, your voice almost breaking. “I’ll take all of you, just don’t stop.” Letting go of your hair he pushes your head back to the pillows.

Your pussy is squeezing and dripping all around him, making a mess on the bed and you haven’t even cum yet, but he feels like you are close, very close and he himself is not far away from his own pique.

The feeling of your second orgasm for the night starts to build up. That same feeling he has made you feel earlier is coming back – the trembling in your legs, the heat in your lower belly, all of this is coming back but stronger.

One more smack on your red ass cheek follow by a hard thrust is all what is needed to send you to the edge. You cum all over his dick, your cunt squeezing around him hard, so hard that before he can stop himself and pull out, Ace is cumming inside of you. Coating your walls white with his hot cum.

It takes some time for both of you to calm down. After collecting his breath Ace finally pulls out of you, watching your little sweet pussy leaks some of his cum mixed with your own.

Leaning over your limp body he gives you a kiss on the shoulder. “Are you okay?” He softly asks.

You are not sure if you are here on planet Earth or somewhere far away in the galaxy. You have never been fucked like this. You hear Ace asking you something, but you are too wasted and tired to answer, all you can do is just look at him.

“Hey, please tell me.” He pleads with a soft tone. It’s obviously that you are exhausted, but he needs to know if you are okay, if he has been too harsh with you or not. “Was it too much? Are you hurt?”

Hearing the worry in his voice you try your best to answer him. “Don’t worry Ace, I’m fine. You’re fine. We’re fine. Let’s go to sleep now.” You tell him with a sleepy voice and very heavy eyelids, but with a satisfy smile across your face.

Seeing your sweet smile as you turn around on your back, gives him the peace and the satisfaction that you are in fact okay and obviously pleased. “Give me a sec. I need to clean us both.” He winks at you, but you don’t see it as your eyes are already closing and you are already asleep by the time he comes with a warm wet towel to clean the mess you to just made.

-

The sunlight coming from the open curtain of the window irritates you. Scrunching your nose and squeezing your eyes shut as you try your best to remain asleep and ignore the irritation. Giving up, you finally open one eye. You almost never forget to put the blinds down, how drunk have you been last night to forget it?

Lifting just your head, dizziness hits you up like a truck, making you grab your head and squeeze it. A groan leaves your lips. You haven’t felt like this in a very, very long time. Your mouth is dry, and you are extremely thirsty. Giving yourself some time to adjust to the light and the heavy feeling in your head, you blink a few times. Something is wrong.

Raising one eyebrow you wonder since when the ceiling in your bedroom has turn white? Are you still drunk? Running one hand over your face you look to your right side. Instead of seeing the door to your bathroom you are met with a big dark oak chest of drawers and a lot of basketball and rock bands posters on the wall.

The moment you realise you are not home, and in fact that you are in somebody else’s apartment, you freeze. “Fuck.” You quietly curse yourself. Slowly you move your eyes down to your body, wrapped up in dark blue light covers. You can feel that your body is bare, but you hope that you are wrong and when you look under the covers you will find yourself dressed in your little black dress. Sneaking a peak under the covers, you gasp. You are as bare as the day your mother gave birth to you.

Your internal panic is interrupted by a little shift of the covers next to you. The memories of last night hits you like a truck. The guy you met in the bar with Boa, and then staying with him to play poker, and then going with him to his place and you two having sex; all of this comes at once.

You withdraw a deep breath and stop breathing. What do you do now? Is he awake? You hope he isn’t.

Allowing yourself to breath again, you slowly turn your head to the left, eyes squeezed tight, afraid to open them. Counting to three in your mind, you slightly open one eye and thank whatever power is out there that he is still asleep and his head is turned to the other side, and you are met with nothing else but his messy dark locks.

You need to think fast and stop panicking. Whatever has happened happen. Now you need to get out of here before he wakes up.

Taking the covers off from you, you slowly slide you right leg to the floor, making sure that your movements are as quiet and quick as possible. Once you feel the wooden floor on the tip of your toes, you lift your body with one hand and get up from the bed, almost loosing your balance and tripping on the ground you managed to stay still.

Cursing yourself one more time as the headache hits, you grab your head but remind yourself that there is no time for this. You have stepped on something soft. Looking down you sigh in relief. It is your bra. One out of three, no five of your items found. Putting it on quickly and tiptoeing around the room, the next thing you come upon is your dress. With one quick swift move you put it on your body and finally you don’t feel so exposed. Walking to the other side to the bed your eyes land on your stockings and purse right next to the door. Four out of five found now what is left is your panties.

Where the hell could he possible thrown them? Walking to the door to pick your stockings and purse you turn around to make sure that he is still asleep and thankfully he still is.

You can’t help but stare at his sleeping form. He is cute. Laying on his belly, both hands wrapped tightly around the pillow, slow steady breaths leaving his slightly open mouth, some of his dark locks falling over his face.

Part of you wishes you haven’t slept with him, that way maybe you two could have been friends or something, but now you must remind strangers.

Looking down your eyes spot your panties. Right next to his side of the bed. Right next to the bed. But what is next to your panties makes your eyes widen. A condom. Obviously a used one. You are happy to know that you two have used protection so there is one last thing for you to worry about, but couldn’t he throw it away in a bin or something? Scrunching your face in disgust you look away.

You have two options – tiptoeing to there, maybe risking waking him up, but grab them, or just turning around open the door and run. The decision is taken fast. With one swift and quick move you are out of his bedroom, leaving your panties behind. A parting gift goodbye for the great time you had last night some might say.

Leaving his bedroom, you find yourself in the living room and from there it doesn’t take you long to find the entrance door. There you also found your heels. Putting them on, you quickly leave the place. Running down the stairs and then outside the street, as fast as you can considering the fact that you are wearing twelve centimetres heels.

After three or four streets away from his place, you finally stop to catch your breath. Your heart is beating fast. You still can’t believe what have you done. Laughter starts building up in you and soon you find yourself laughing loudly. You can’t believe what you have done – in the best way possible.

You feel alive. You feel you. The you, you have been once. The you, you have missed so much.

With trembling hands, you pull your phone from your purse. You barely have any battery left and a lot of missed calls and text, mostly from your best friend Boa. Looking around you see a taxi passing by, so you raise your hand to stop it. Getting in the backseat of the cab, you tell the driver your address.

With the remaining life of your phone’s battery, you call Boa. She should be leaving for the airport soon. She picks up almost immediately.

“Where the hell have you been? I’ve been texting and calling like crazy? Are you okay?” She doesn’t even bother to say ‘hello’ or ‘good morning’, she is straight to the point as usual.

Clearing your throat your response. “Sorry. I’m fine, just… lost track of time.”

“Lost track of time? Really?” She snorts mockingly. “Did you just get up? Your voice sounds so raspy. And why are you talking so quietly? Oh my, are you not alone?” If only you could see her face right now. It is all lighten up with curiosity.

Looking at the front mirror making sure that the driver is focused on the road and not on your phone call you quietly answer. “I’m on my way home, in a cab.” As much as you are a bit ashamed, you are also a bit euphoric. A small smile forming at the edges of your mouth.

The gaps from the other end of the phone is loud. “Did you sleep with him?”

Even thought she can’t see you; you nod while humming in response, a little giggle escaping your lips. “Yes. Yes, I did.”

“You slut.” Boa screams in the phone, giggling with you and sharing your euphonical feeling. “How was it? I want all the details. Was it good or bad? You know it doesn’t matter. What is important here is that after what – two years, you finally got laid.” You start laughing at the overly excitement of your friend over you sleeping with a guy. “Don’t laugh. Tell me. Now.” She demands.

“Well, I can’t right now.” You mumble, glancing at the driver. “But all I can tell you right now is-” Lowering your voice even more you whisper in the phone. “Two times, Boa. He made me finish two times.”

The memories of the charming stranger fucking you last night comes to your mind like a vivid picture, making your pussy squeeze itself, causing you pain, a sweet aching reminder of how good he has made you felt.

“Two times? Two real orgasms? Like real real?” Boa is in shock from what she has heard.

“Real real.” You repeat.

“Wow. I’m speechless. He didn’t give me the vibes of a guy who know how to fuck.” She chuckles.

A bit surprised by what you have heard, you ask in between giggles. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know.” She laughs. “I felt like he would be one of those guys who just stick it and move it you know, no beat, no rhythm, no nothing.”

“Yes, I get what you mean, but no.” You can feel the blood rushing to your face. “He was very rhythmic with both hands and, well… you know.”

“Lucky you. I’m so happy for you, you have no idea.” She tells you. “When are you two meeting again?”

“Yeah, about that.” You withdraw your breath with a hiss. “I ran away before he wakes up.”

“You did what?” Boa screams.

“Come on, Boa. You know how I’m currently. Last thing I need is a guy in my life.” You murmur a bit sad, the reality slowly coming to you as you remind yourself that you just had one good night, but one night like this doesn’t chance your current life.

“You don’t need to date him or anything like this.” You can’t see her, but you can feel over the phone the roll her eyes make. “You can use him for a booty call. Your personal sex toy.” She whistles.

“We didn’t exchange any contacts.”

“Oh my, you’re a lost case.” She sighs. “Anyway, at least you got laid pretty good. But want more details.”

“When you come back, I’ll tell you.” Running a hand over your face, you lean your head on the backseat.

“But this is in like a week or so.” She whines. “You know what? Fine. When I come back. I need to get to the airport anyway, but one last thing before we hang up.” She tells you know in more serious tone. “Go and buy a plan B.”

“We used protection.” Rolling your eyes and clicking with your tongue, a makeshift of a hum and laughter leaves your lips.

“Better safe than sorry.” You friend replies.

“Better safe than sorry.” The words of your best friend repeat in your mind like a broken record. You still can’t believe that all three-pregnancy test are positive.

How? How did this happen? You two have used a condom. You saw it with your own eyes. Did the condom break? It must have. But still, it is your fault for not taking extra precautions. You shouldn’t have forgotten to take the plan B when you should have taken it.

None of these matters now. You are pregnant. You are pregnant and it’s your fault – partially. It is the guy’s fault as much as it is yours. How could he have finish in you? Was he out of his mind when this happen?

Being pregnant right now is not the worst thing around this situation. The worst thing is that you have no idea how to contact or find him. All you know about him is … his name and if you remember correctly, he is a firefighter. But that is all. You don’t remember where he lives, you don’t know how usually he goes to the bar you two met at nor you remember where the hell this place is, you basically know nothing about this man except that you are knocked up by him.

“Good job (Y/N). Now what?” You ask yourself.

Now you need to find your baby daddy. No, now you need to decide if you are going to keep the baby, so maybe you don’t need to worry about finding the dad, right?

END NOTE: I have edited the beginning probably five or more times, (also side note - this was my second time writing smut, so any type of criticism over it is welcomed). I wanted to show how low Reader confidence is while still making it logical to say - fuck it, and go and sleep with a man she has just met. I hope I managed to deliver it good enough. Why she is the way she is will be revealed later on, so no spoilers, just be patient. Same goes with Ace. His past will be revealed on later on. This is just chapter one - the beginning of this journey, with I hope you are willing to follow ♡

Every like, comment, reblog and message is deeply appreciated by me so feel free to share ♡

Thank you for reading my storied ♡♡♡

Taglist - OPEN: @orange-milky @igoontoonepiece @m1kkso @boomboom-tanjiro2019 @aceismyloveforever @firelilyofthevalley @ye-old-hermit-woman @fulltravelerdreamland @ffinosie @sungiebby @mrstraffy @ren-ni @acidblack @certain-tragedies @pmgranate @praline357 @stuckinthewrongworld @hlkenoace

Comment down below if you want to be tagged when a new chapter is up ♡

writing, format, header & dividers © cinnamoonblue fanart by @usa_rinko_ on Twitter/X ©cinnamoonblue, do not copy or plagiarise my work.

[xtwinfantasy]

Dream About Me

(Chapter 7) (Mason Mount/Kai Havertz)

pairing: Mason Mount / Kai Havertz (m/m)

summary: The team had its best season in a long time; qualification for European tournaments was almost in Chelsea FC's hands. The problems came right at the end of the season, when their young star player had to leave training due to the sudden death of his father, and when came back, he seemed to lose all his ability on the ball, as well as the person he used to be.

Mason starts the next season trying to get his life back on track and put the pain of that summer behind him, but everything changes when Chelsea's newest player, Kai Havertz, appears in his life. And in his dreams too… Is he dreaming?

Now, his new teammate will flip his world upside down in the craziest ways he could have ever imagined.

tags: Slow burn romance, Crush at first sight, Eventual fluff, Romantic comedy, Awkward flirting, Dreams (or not?), Late night conversations, References to depression, Grief/Mourning, Psychological drama, Drama & romance, kinda AU but not really, Mysterious Kai lol, Additional Tags to Be Added.

Start reading on:

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

CHAPTER 7

After games at Stamford Bridge, traffic in the city was always a mess, and even more so when they coincidentally clashed with the home games of Arsenal, causing a complete mess on London's main thoroughfares. The complex of buildings in which most of the young men in the team rented flats was not too far from the stadium, usually taking only twenty or thirty minutes to get home by bus, but on special occasions like that, the time could stretch to two whole hours, even when Ben had offered to give him a lift.

—Hey, Ben —Mason called from the passenger seat. He wasn't looking at him, but at the traffic, at the cars almost completely stopped next to them, perhaps to keep him from noticing that his curiosity was less casual than he intended to make it seem— Can I ask you a question?

The older man raised an eyebrow.

—Uh, sure. What's the matter?

—Well, it just occurred to me... How do you know if a person is neurodivergent? 

The horns of the cars around them blared from time to time over the music they were listening to, chosen by the car's owner, who lowered the volume a little before replying.

—You don't mean you, do you? 

—No! No, no, no, actually it's just a bit of a, a curiosity about someone else, okay?

—Well, I want to clarify first that it would be unethical to talk to you about this being about you, let alone right now.

—It's not about me, seriously, it's not.

—Okey —He nodded, as the car moved forward under the green light at the traffic light. —Well, it's a little hard to answer that one, Mase. Neurodivergences are, in fact, very diverse, so they have very different kinds of particularities, and there are levels of functionality between the different types of neurodivergences, so it's very difficult to define common characteristics. The only thing I could tell you is that all neurodivergent people have mental and cognitive processes that do differ from the norm, but they don't always affect the same interactions with other people. 

—Uh, so... Would it be possible for a neurodivergent person to have processes that affect...?

—Any aspect could be affected, but not necessarily in a negative way, just different from other people.

—And they... Do they realise that they are different?

—They can, it depends very much on the way their mental and cognitive processes work. Also, if they do, some neurodivergent people make great efforts to hide the characteristics of their neurodivergence in their relationships with other people.

—Oh. Hiding it to prevent people from knowing that they are neurodivergent? 

—Yes, just as some people hide their ethnicity or sexual orientation, but that also depends on whether they want to do it or not. Some people find it too burdensome to have to do it all the time and may simply decide not to do it.

—Or do it only sometimes?

It made sense the way he had imagined it, and yet, taking into account the differences Ben had just mentioned, he felt completely inexperienced enough to even believe that he was now sure of the reasons for Kai's behaviour. It could explain a lot of things, but he wasn't going to ask Kai, was he?

—Yes, or only sometimes —he nodded. The older man was silent for a few seconds as they moved through traffic, but he had to speak again, this time looking at Mason— So, are you going to tell me who this is about?

—Uh, well... It's, it's something I've been trying to start talking to Jack about in therapy, I don't know if he's told you anything about it.

—We don't do that, dumbass —he laughed— He hasn't talked to me about any of it, at all, so I'm listening.

—It's bullshit, honestly, and I’m a bit embarrassed talking abut boy problems, but it’s Kai. Kai Havertz. 

—Oh. You think he might be neurodivergent?

—Well, there are a lot of things that make me wonder... stuff about him.

— "Stuff"? So there are updates on this, huh? —he smiled— I'm ready to hear all about it.

—As a psychologist or as a professional busybody?

—As your best mate who you might want to give an update on your life. 

—Well, I definitely owe you that, but it's not my fault, you should take me home more often after games —he joked, changing the music in the car to one of the suggestions he'd added to the playlist. At the same time, he took advantage of that space of silent time to plan his next words— I think... Maybe I should tell you all over again from the beginning, now that more things have happened.

—You're killing me with curiosity, Mase.

Mason wasn't an expert at summing things up, and though he'd tried in the previous session with Jack, now that he was under no time pressure whatsoever, he'd been able to tell Ben everything he felt about it, every detail he'd noticed since meeting Kai and how much was really going through his mind when he was with him. From the time when he'd wondered how much he could follow his instincts back when he still thought he'd dreamt it all, to now, when his visits had been a regular occurrence for a couple of weeks now and he felt much less and less surprised to see him show up on his doorstep, though his heartbeat didn't take it quite so quietly.

It took a while and some extra explanation to make Ben understand, but he managed after a while.

—You mean...? Okay, I'm not going to assume anything, so... How do you feel about him? —Ben asked. They were now in the living room of Mount's flat after finally arriving in the building only a couple of minutes ago. On the clock, the hands read eleven o'clock at night, the television was showing some reality show they weren't paying attention to, and in front of them both rested two glasses of juice.

—Uh, well, I mean, I haven't wondered about that at all. Who does?

—Everybody, Mason —he smiled. 

—Well, I don't know, I mean... Uh, okay, I think Kai's nice, he's a good person and... I like him a lot, he's someone really nice to be around —he said, shrugging. He didn't notice the insistent look Ben gave him after he said that, until it turned into a sneer— I don't have anything else to say, Ben, I, I think he's really cool.

—Well, if that's what feels right for you to say, that's fine. I think it's safe to say you're friends now, don't you?

—Uh, yeah, I think so. Yeah, we are. 

—Well, I'm glad. It's been a while since you've had a new friendship, and especially over the time your psychological process has taken. I think it's a positive development.

—Yes, well, the problem isn't really there. It's clear to me that we're friends, I suppose, but... I just wonder why he pretends that we're not sometimes. I wonder why he acts so different sometimes, in general, because it doesn't make sense in my mind, you know? And that makes me think that maybe his mind and my mind are different, I guess.

—Well, no two people are the same, Mase. So, do you think this could all be a sign that he's a neurodivergent person?

—I don't know, you're the psychologist. 

Ben didn't hide a wry chuckle at the comment.

—I'm a psychologist, not a fucking fortune teller, man —he said, pushing aside the ice cubes so he could sip from his glass— If you wanted to get a proper diagnosis, I'd have to diagnose him directly, and that would probably take some time. But, listen, it shouldn't necessarily have to be about neurodivergence, it could just be the way he is, or there could be some cultural reason, although it's also possible that he is indeed neurodivergent. Actually, I think it's important for you to know that, whatever the reason for his behaviour, that's not the issue here, the issue is how you feel about it.

His words, followed by a long silence, echoed in the other's mind. And his gaze could not help but sadden as he remembered that perhaps this was something he should worry about, or at least think about. He had been avoiding it, and he liked the idea of continuing to avoid it better.

—Uh... I mean, I... it's confusing to me. It obviously baffles me at times, but, really, I don't think he has any wrong motive for this. I don't want to misjudge him, anyway. Besides, why would I have to think about it so much? We're just friends, you know?

—Yeah —he smiled— I know, you're friends, that was clear to both of us the entire way. But, you know, Mason, people worry about their relationship with their friends too, it's normal.

—Yeah, well... I know. I know, it's just... It's a bit confusing, that's just because Kai is actually quite a strange person.

—Is that good or bad?

—It's weird. But I like spending time with him.

—Well, if he's here so often, he probably likes to spend time with you too. Relax —he smiled kindly. His mate, sitting across from him, was silent for a few seconds, his hand twirling his phone on the table. Sometimes, that kind of thought reminded him that maybe he made things a lot bigger in his mind—. Hey, but he's not coming to visit you right now, is he?

Mason smiled.

—No, no. I don't think so, he didn't say anything to me about it —he was about to remain silent without another word, but something inside him was urging him to talk more about it. Maybe it was his own mind, and if he was going to think about his teammate, maybe he'd rather do it with someone else— Hey, can I tell you something?

—You know you can, what's going on? 

—Sorry to keep going on about it, but... well, last week...

Read full chapter on AO3

[aja154ever]

BSD STAGE Dead Apple Spoilers

Mainly a report on the additional scenes or scenes that hugely differ from the movie

PLS DO NOT REPOST AND SPREAD IRRESPONSIBLY

Tag spoiler posts, Credit as necessary 

All photos come from the official press release

Please read these points before proceeding! ↓ ↓ ↓

Summary of the BSD Stage Dead Apple Synopsis

Under the cut for Spoilers!

▼Beginning

The play starts with Atsushi looking for Dazai (as tasked by Kunikida to attend the ADA mtg) Differing from the movie, he doesn't find him. 

Atsushi meets Shibusawa on the street instead when Shibusawa saved an elderly crossing the street, making him think that Shibusawa is a kind person.

Atsushi thinks that they have met somewhere before but can't remember it exactly.

Kyouka then meets Atsushi about the Ability Users Suicide Case.

▼Akutagawa pursues Shibusawa

Chuuya and Akutagawa are talking on the phone. Akutagawa is tasked to pursue Shibusawa as the perpetrator of the Dragon Head Conflict. 

However, Akutagawa was physically attacked by Dazai from behind - he snapped Aku’s neck, then stepped on him - causing him to lose consciousness (though he recognizes Dazai before passing out).

Dazai then comes with Shibusawa.

▼Chuuya and Akutagawa scene

The day when Dazai took Akutagawa to the Port Mafia is shown. Akutagawa wakes up from the dream and remembers Dazai attacked him.

An Ability user suddenly comes out of nowhere. Akutagawa fights him and realizes that he can't use Rashomon.

Chuuya comes to save him. Apparently, it's an Ability that got separated from its user.

Chuuya then explains Shibusawa's Ability and says that the mist engulfing Yokohama is actually the breath of a dragon.

Akutagawa then asks why Chuuya's Ability doesn't separate from him.

Chuuya answers that his Ability is quite special and isn't something small that can be taken easily by this fog. And if his Ability happens to separate from him, it will be the end of Yokohama.

Chuuya gives Akutagawa a new mission - to kill Dazai, because he's the one who took Shibusawa to Yokohama.

Akutagawa laughs, saying that he doesn't believe that because the Dazai now wants peace in Yokohama.

Chuuya laughs at him. He says that he's known Dazai for 7 years and were once partners so he knows Dazai - he knows that no one can tell what Dazai is thinking. There's a monster inside Dazai that no one can understand.

Aku claims that he can understand Dazai so Chuuya asks him why Dazai left the Mafia, but Aku couldn't answer. Chuuya says that he doesn't care if Aku looks up to Dazai but as for him, he's never looked up to Dazai even once. He then tells him to his face that Aku going all "Dazai-san, Dazai-san" and accepting everything he says - is probably the reason why Dazai doesn't approve of him.

Aku gets mad and attacks him to no avail. Chuuya taunts him further saying that if he doesn't do something about this mist, he'll remain weak.

Rashomon appears in the background. Chuuya says that Rashomon is just looking at him and not attacking him as if putting Aku to a test.

Chuuya says that without his Ability, Aku can never land a single punch at him.

Aku accepts the mission and says that he will beat Chuuya right after.

▼White Trio at Mukurotoride

Dazai walks to the center. There's a voice-over of Oda when he told Dazai that the good or bad side doesn't make much difference to him.

Shibusawa arrives.

Dazai says he's happy working with him.

Fyodor arrives saying that Shibusawa shouldn't believe Dazai. (Fyodor does a mini violin performance, talk about grand entrance lol)

It seems that Dazai didn't know beforehand that Fyodor is part of the plan.

Fyodor says that he's just a rat on the side that will help a bit.

Dazai realizes that Fyodor's role is to keep him in check.

Shibusawa says that he can actually accomplish all his plans on his own without them, but it would be boring.

Dazai agrees that it indeed wouldn't be boring because no one knows who will betray who.

▼Atsushi, Aku, Kyouka in the Mafia passage

Atsushi argues with Aku on the way, saying things that it's his fault that Kyouka suffered in the Mafia. He told them that he should never come close to Kyouka ever and talk as if he knows her.

Aku then retorts back asking Atsushi what he actually knows about Kyouka.

Atsushi says that he knows a lot stating things like Kyouka likes tofu and bunnies, and hates lightning.

Aku asks him about her past but Atsushi wasn't able to answer. Aku narrates that Kyouka's parents were killed by Demon Snow and she was picked up by the Mafia, and was then trained by a Port Mafia Executive known as the best Assassin in the world (in reference to Verlaine).

Aku then adds that he also knows that Kyouka hates flies and dogs, and likes ghosts and hydrangeas. He knows more about Kyouka so it's his win.

Unable to come up with other things about Kyouka, Atsushi resorts to bickering.

Atsushi: You're a sore loser!

Aku: Orphanage castaway!

Sushi, visibly hurt from Aku's comeback: You don't change clothes!

Aku, visibly hurt from Sushi's comeback:  I wash it every time!

Sushi: Huh? Do you also wear that when sleeping?

Aku: I'm gonna kill you!

They were then stopped by Kyouka.

Before they go out of the passageway, Kyouka attempts to check if her phone can connect somewhere. 

Aku gently stops her telling her that that phone is the one used to control her Ability and would be bad if it connects. 

Kyouka says that there's nothing to worry about because there's no signal. 

Kyouka asks him if Aku tried the Mafia's communication device and Aku says that it can't connect too.

(Note: When Aku talks to Kyouka his voice is calm and softer than usual)

Atsushi, feeling out of place, silently watches them from the side. "You two, you actually get along well, huh..." 

▼Demon Snow Battle

The trio go back outside the streets and comes to face Demon Snow. They ran back to the Mafia passageway but Demon Snow just follows them and slices the door. Byakko then also appears.

Kyouka's phone rings. When she answers it, the scene flashbacks to the time when her parents died (same scene with the manga) with her mom explaining what truly happened, and then advises Kyouka how to control Demon Snow.

They were able to beat Demon Snow after and the Ability goes back to Kyouka.

▼More Aku, Atsushi, and Kyouka

Aku, Atsushi, and Kyouka continue to walk in the mist-covered street. Atsushi suggests to Kyouka that they should hold hands so they don't get separated. Kyouka agreed and held out her hand, but then asked Atsushi about Aku.

Sushi: Eh?

Kyouka:

Sushi: Eh?

Kyouka: Should I hold his hand?

Sushi: No way!

Kyouka: Then you should hold his hand

Sushi: Ehhhh, t-there's no way I would... i-it's Akutagawa...

Kyouka:

Sushi: Aahh, there are no other hands in here so fine!

Atsushi settles to offer the dangling part of his belt for Aku to hold on to (lol he's pointing his ass in the process because the belt is on his back like a tail). Aku reaches for it, but was taken away by Rashomon before Atsushi and Kyouka can see him

▼Aku vs Rashomon Battle

Aku uses his gun to fight against Rashomon. Just when he thought he won, he is then caught and pierced by Rashomon. At first Aku thought that Rashomon is fighting him to test if he's worth it as Rashomon's "owner", but then realized that Rashomon is actually filled with wrath - Aku's wrath towards his weak self.

Scenes flashback to Chuuya telling Aku why Dazai doesn't approve of him, of Atsushi telling him that he lost against him and is still not recognized by Dazai, and of Dazai telling him that his new subordinate is better and he doesn't need Aku.

Aku makes Rashomon remember all these, of what they went through, of what they are mad about, of what they both desire. If Aku doesn't beat Rashomon then he will be a part of Shibusawa's collection and will never get what they desire.

Before Rashomon ends Aku, he sets the bomb off and beats him eventually.

Aku returns to Atsushi and Kyouka thereafter, and Atsushi was surprised to see him covered in bruises.

▼White Trio Betrayal Scene

Fyodor sees Dazai suspiciously trying to enter the Draconia room. They went inside after Fyodor tells him that Shibusawa is not there. Dazai reveals his motives to Fyodor, and Fyodor hands him the crystals. Before Dazai can touch them Shibusawa stabs him from behind. Dazai dies. (scenes are almost the same as the movie)

After Dazai dies, Shibusawa also kills Fyodor, grabbing him on the top of his head, lifting him up, and then breaking his neck.

Shibusawa laughs (like a villain) saying that his plans succeeded.

▼More Aku, Atsushi, and Kyouka

Aku, Atsushi, and Kyouka are riding an elevator, standing side by side. Because the ride is taking quite long, Atsushi tries to make small talk to relieve the awkward atmosphere.

Sushi: Your Ability has returned to you, right? How does it feel?

Aku: None of your business.

*silence*

Sushi: Looking from this angle, your nose looks nice. (literally "you have a high-bridged nose" used as a compliment in Jp)

*silence*

Sushi: Aahh, with this three the talk is going nowhere..

Kyouka: *tries to narrate Momotaro (a popular Jp folklore)*

Sushi: Ah, I'm sorry Kyouka-chan, I didn't mean to force you

▼Chuuya at the Special Ability Dept

Chuuya arrives at the Special Ability Department Office. He is stopped by the guards but Chuuya beats them all (fight scenes were shown).

Chuuya arrives at the main office, but Ango is only showing up in the scene via a video screen. Tsujimura is in the office btw.

Chuuya and Ango talk about the government's involvement with Shibusawa (same with the movie).

Chuuya threatens Ango that he will kill the people in the office if Ango doesn't tell him about the case of Shibusawa now.

▼White Trio

Shibusawa takes Dazai's Ability crystal, but realizes that it is not the one he's been looking for.

Fyodor suddenly appears from his back, shooting Shibusawa with a gun.

Apparently, the one Shibusawa killed earlier was not Fyodor himself, but his separated Ability.

Fyodor then kills Shibusawa with a knife, making him remember his death (same with the movie).

▼Dragon Appears

Fyodor does his poetry speech about the dragon lol

The dragon appears as animation in the background.

Deadly Drive plays as bg music after!

Ango asks Chuuya to fight the dragon, believing that only his Ability can do it just as when they fought Guivre in the past.

Chuuya complains that the government just always does nothing but order people around while not getting their hands dirty.

He accepts the mission and asks Ango's life in return.

▼Chuuya vs Dragon

Plane scene with Tsujimura is almost the same as the movie. Chuuya throws his gloves and activates Corruption.

This scene involves his actor Uechan flying in a harness, where he did flips a few times. On his background is an animation of the levitated rubbles and the building he used to throw at the dragon.

Bless Uechan's throat for all the screaming

▼Soukoku scene

Chuuya shouts Dazai's name, and punches him waking him up. Dazai touches his cheek to deactivate Corruption. (Same lines with the movie, yes Dazai is still Snow White)

Chuuya asks him to let go but Dazai refuses saying that the place they are in is where the mist is the most concentrated and Arahabaki will end up separating from him.

▼Atsushi reflection with Byakko

Atsushi realizes that the orphanage director must have known that he killed Shibusawa, but wondered why he never told him.

The orphanage director appears at the end saying that he hid the truth from Atsushi because he thought Atsushi wouldn't be able to accept it and would be crushed (mentally) once he knew about himself.

▼Aftermath

Bokura plays in the bg

Aku leaves

Dazai arrives saying that Atsushi was saved because of them

Atsushi butts in saying that Dazai was the one who did

(same lines with the movie)

After Atsushi says the "more beautiful" line, Oda's voice-over plays when he told Dazai to go to the side that saves people because that's a little bit more beautiful.

▼Aftermath Chuuya

Ango calls Chuuya saying that the battle is finished thanks to them, and now he's ready to give his life in return.

Chuuya just laughs at him saying that his life isn't enough to pay for this. He also tells him that he understands that Ango was just a small fry in the government six years ago so wasn't able to do anything about the Shibusawa case. Ango thanks him but still tries to insist but Chuuya hangs up.

Akutagawa shows up, but he doesn't bow at Chuuya (unlike in the movie) and just continues walking after Chuuya told him that Dazai is alive. Chuuya calls him to lend his shoulder because he can't move and gestures him to come closer.

Aku does and Chuuya laughs at how unwilling he looks and asks if Aku is still mad that Chuuya called him weak. Aku says that he's not bothered at all.

Chuuya tells him that he shouldn't worry because they're both included in Dazai's plans, which means that Dazai thinks that they are essential in beating Shibusawa.

Aku remains silent. Chuuya then tells him that as Dazai's ex-partner, he's gonna say it - that Dazai approves of Aku. At the very least, Chuuya does approve of him too.

Aku just says that he's nothing compared to Chuuya.

▼Days after

Atsushi and Kyouka are back at the Agency, where they wave off to everyone as they go on a new mission.

Voice-overs of the ADA stage play cast were played sending them off.

Tanizaki: Take care!

Naomi: Stay safe!

Kunikida: Don't forget your report after.

Ranpo: Get me sweets on your way home!

Yosano: If possible, go back here with injuries, okay?

Kenji: Let's eat some gyudon later!

Fukuzawa: Atsushi, Kyouka, take care and come back safely.

▼Closing

Chuuya talks to Mori on the phone, reporting that the mission has been accomplished. 

However, he gets instructed to do the send-off or the farewell greeting to the fans on the stage.

Chuuya, angrily to the audience: What are you looking at, huh? 

Send-off? *takes a sit elegantly and stares at the crowd*

Ugh, okay,, *stands up*

Be careful not to be engulfed by the mist when you go home, okay? See ya.

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

Thanks for reading! Please support the official accounts and releases as much as possible!

I’m no longer active on tumblr nowadays, so you may follow me on twitter instead @harukaja15

My translations on tumblr are compiled under the tag #bsd translation and #my works

[puppypeter]

🌹I couldn’t find a zexy picture so I went for the ‘awkward faces they might make during sex’ picture. All fics are complete, apologies if there aren’t many but I lean a lot more towards angst/whump than I do smut! But these are all lovely/hot and so I really wanted to share them! 🌹

Test Drive | 1318 words

Steve and Bucky try out Steve's post-serum body.

Practice My Maintenance (As Hard As You Can) | 8665 words | Part 1 of Give A Little, Take A Little

Bucky's nearly thirty and has never been spanked. For most people, this wouldn't be a pressing concern. Bucky is not most people.

Ring-A My Phone | 7194 words | Part 2 of Give A Little, Take A Little

What precisely constitutes a business arrangement? Also: is Steve flirting with him? Bucky's pretty sure Steve is flirting with him.

Big Ideas And A Little Behind | 14898 words | Part 3 of Give A Little, Take A Little

Bucky has no idea what to expect for his second session with Steve. Then he gets the email about the butt plug.

You’d Take Control So Easily | 6674 words | Part 4 of Give A Little, Take A Little

Steve thinks about Bucky a lot. Because Bucky checks the boxes. Ticks the dick. Makes Steve want someone in a way he hasn’t wanted anyone for a long time, and doesn’t that just scare the shit out of him?

Bit Warm, But That Don’t Mean I’m On Fire | 9537 words | Part 5 of Give A Little, Take A Little

Nobody puts Bucky in a corner.

Hold My Hands Down Beside Me, I’m Counting On You | 11863 words | Part 6 of Give A Little, Take A Little

Bucky misses his train, misses the mark, and misses an opportunity.

Customer Service | 19141 words

Steve has newly accepted and discovered his attraction to men and is tired of watching porn and imagining all of those experiences he's never had but is curious of. So, he goes to an sex shop, not intenting to leave with anything but a couple of options for his... alone time but ending up with one of the employees in addition to a nondescript bag full of goodies.

Rough Sex/Locker room sex, Athletes AU

College athletes au ft. rough sex, biting, slapping, degradation / humiliation, semi-public sex

That Girl’s A Genius | 18918 words (includes Bucky/Natasha)

Natasha looks up at Bucky with an evil look on her face, and before Bucky has a chance to say hello or ask her what she’s doing here, she smiles like a shark and says, “I have a plan.”

Bucky lets her in.

“A plan for what?” he asks, gesturing toward his sofa to invite Natasha to sit.

“To get Steve to pull his head out of his ass,” Natasha answers, “and finally act on how he feels about you.”

Bucky stares at her, blinking. “How he what?” he squeaks. Very dignified.

-

Steve waffles, Bucky pines, and Natasha schemes.

Unchanged | 4070 words

Steve's physique may have changed, but what he wants with Bucky hasn't.

Bottom Steve Christmas Smut

no summary, honestly the title says it all

Heavyweight Heart | 71021 words

Steve is the owner of a bakery, "Brooklyn Breads And Pastry", and one day Bucky walks in and turns his entire fucking life upside-down.

This is that story. However, beware that as this fic progresses it goes from a meet-cute, meet-heartbreak (on Steve's behalf), to a fic that's emotionally gonna be kind of heavy. Bucky will go through some shit that could be triggering if you struggle with weight or body imagine issues although I will say Steve's 1000% into his new weight (which is why the tags revolving around weight gain and belly kink are being used) and is very supportive with it so it also is gonna be soft. Give it a try if that sounds like your thing.

[bi-naesala]

Fantasy

Fandom: Yakuza Rating: E Warnings: / Relationships: Kiryu Kazuma/Nishikiyama Akira Characters: Kiryu Kazuma, Nishikiyama Akira Additional Tags: Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Nishiki isn't actually present but he's still Important, Sexual Fantasy, Fantasizing, BDSM, Trans Kiryu Kazuma, Trans Nishikiyama Akira Summary:

After the "How To Train Your Dominatrix" substory, Kiryu begins having thoughts...

(Also on AO3)

Once Kiryu is inside his apartment, he can finally let out the sigh of relief that he’s been holding through his entire way back.

Finally, peace.

Well, he knows this is a fake kind of peace, considering all that is happening, but at least here he can let his guard down a little bit.

 He walks to the small fridge and gets himself a beer, which he opens after gracelessly sitting down. Ah, he’ll need more than just one beer today, he feels like, because even that isn’t able to freeze the fire that’s burning inside him.

Meeting that dominatrix really got him good. Not that he’s thinking about her, but… does he have a talent for this kind of stuff? He was the one who instructed her after all.

To be quite honest, he never thought about this BDSM stuff, but now he can’t help but to wonder if he’d ever get to try it.

Even if he does, where would he even start? And with whom?

Well, at least for that, he has an answer…

 It’s easier and less awkward than he thought it’d be to imagine Nishiki between his legs, eating him out as Kiryu orders him to go slower or faster, depending on how he feels. It’s quite natural, actually.

He’d have him tied up, of course. As of now, he knows nothing of shibari, but he’d be willing to learn for Nishiki. He’d buy the pretties ropes for him, bright red.

He bets he’d look so good…

 Kiryu shakes his head, coming back to reality.

… Great, now he’s horny, very horny. He was supposed to let this mood of his pass, not encourage it.

Ah well, he guesses it really can’t be helped, huh?

 He goes straight to the point, removing pants and underwear. He can’t help but to grimace at how dirty he’s gotten the fabric, meaning that he’ll have to wash everything later.

And to think that he’d get so wet just by thinking about this…

He tosses everything away, running his hand between his legs immediately rubbing furiously at his clit to the point that it hurts, which makes him stop, take a deep breath, and go back to it, this time slower.

 Where was he? Ah, right, Nishiki.

As if the answer could’ve been different…

 He looks down, between his legs, but then he closes his eyes, enhancing his imagination.

Now he sees Nishiki, desperately eating him out as he tries his best to keep himself from crying. Kiryu would’ve attached a vibrator to his clit, but kept it as the lowest setting, just to give him something but not enough for it to actually bring him pleasure.

It’s cruel, he knows, but the idea of Nishiki gasping and grinding on the vibrator in a desperate search for more, pleading Kiryu with his eyes to stop being mean, makes him twitch, feeling wetter by the second, and so he rubs and rubs and rubs, always faster, always harder.

 One thing that he’d do is wait until Nishiki’s begging him for touch. He bet he’d look so cute and his voice would sound so strained, and still he would deny him, telling him that he’s going to give it to him only if he makes him come, only if he’s a good boy.

He can already imagine then Nishiki going back to eating him out, this time with even more fervor, desperate to make him come as fast as he can, so that he’d finally be allowed to find his release too.

Kiryu doubts he’d last long, but he’d still try to drag this on as much as he can, because this game of theirs wouldn’t be fun if he went easy on Nishiki.

 Still, eventually he’d come, but he’d keep Nishiki still, holding him by the hair as he uses his face to ride his orgasm, smearing his juices all over him. He’d be so pretty like this, looking all debauched and ruined.

“Kiryu… Please…” he’d beg then, finally using his words. “I’ve been good… Pleasepleasepleaseplease…”

He’d love to hear Nishiki beg him more, but he’s been cruel enough. What Nishiki needs now is to come, and Kiryu will give it him.

In his fantasy, he goes down, finally getting on the same level as Nishiki, and with one hand he’d pull him by the hair, forcing his head back, exposing his neck which he would immediately attack with his lips, biting and sucking marks that he knows he’ll have to cover with make-up later. With the other hand, however, he’d reach between Nishiki’s legs, towards the vibrator, turning it up…

Nishiki’s entire body would jerk, and a chocked moan would come out of his lips. He’d tremble like he’s feverish, and Kiryu would chuckle against his neck before selecting the higher setting, and then going up again until he hits the maximum. Nishiki’s screaming now.

 Kiryu comes together with the Nishiki in his fantasy, almost moaning his name as he does, though he manages not to. Not that it would’ve been bad, since nobody can hear him in his apartment, but y’know… It still would’ve been awkward - apparently, masturbating to your bro is fine, but not saying his name…

Speaking of awkward, as his eyes lower to his hand, covered in juices, he wonders how he’ll be able to look at Nishiki the next time they meet.

In a moment, his previous fantasy vanishes, and a new one takes its place: they’re meeting up for karaoke - a pretty standard scenario for them - and every time Nishiki moves a certain way, Kiryu will be reminded of what he did, of what he thought to get off. Shameful…

 Oh well, it’s not like he can change the past.

What is done is done, and still he can’t help but to wonder if Nishiki would be into this kind of stuff, and if he’d be into trying it with him.

… What if he asks him? What would happen then? Would Nishiki be weirded out, or would he be interested?

No, he shouldn’t think about this. He’s not going to ask him any of that, and he’s going to take this little secret jerk-off session of his to the grave. He can’t ask Nishiki about it, come on.

Can’t he, though? If he tries to pass it off as a simple curiosity, and if he asks whether he’d want to try it with a woman instead that with himself, maybe Nishiki would deign him of an answer even.

No! He said he can’t! It wouldn’t be worth the awkwardness!

 Asking Nishiki directly would be too risky. He can’t do it.

… Unless?

[confused-stars]

I saw your tags for the Sign AU, and I can't stop thinking about the possible interrogation. Shigaraki is preparing himself for hours of grueling questions about locations, members, quirks, and plans. But then his favorite hero shows up and asks how he knows his sign name? It's been two hours and Shigaraki still doesn't understand why they are asking about this. He is confused. Aizawa is confused. And AFO has no idea about all the chaos a sign name has caused.

*clears throat* may i-

It must have been hours at this point. Tomura is sure, from how drained he feels and how tight his stomach is with hunger. They’ve offered him a sandwich, sure, but he wasn’t about to accept it. Especially since the handcuffs around his wrists were clearly created with him - or touch-based quirk users - specifically in mind: rather than hold his hands behind his back, or loosely in front, they force his palms together, fingers pressed against each other as if he’s praying, secured together with five sets of dual rings that wrap around his joints. It’s not uncomfortable, but it also leaves him just a little more helpless. If he wants to eat, someone will have to feed him, and he absolutely refuses to even entertain the notion.

Kurogiri is still out there. The League is still out there. They’ll come for him if only he waits long enough. They’ll find out where he is. He’s not being moved to Tartarus, he knows that much, because Sensei is there and they don’t want them close. 

He almost wishes they would move him. That they'd just give it up already. He hasn't said a word since they brought him in.

Well... that's not entirely true.

When All Might was here earlier, tired and skinny looking and... and pathetic, with no right to keep his head held high like that, and he called Tomura by a name that's not his (it's not, it's not, it's not), Tomura did snap at him to shut up. To 'fucking stop it'. He hated the kicked puppy look. the gentle words that felt like poison to Tomura's ears, because who does All Might think he is? Tomura Shigaraki is still a villain. Tenko Shimura is dead. When he spat that out, All Might's resolve hardened, and he began a more traditional interrogation. At that point, Tomura couldn't have answered even if he'd wanted to. He still can't speak, now. They obviously don't know that. It’s a weakness he’s not just going to admit to.

Tomura’s head jerks up when a set of steps actually stops outside the door. He shakes a loose strand of hair out of his face, hating that he can’t even brush them aside himself. Who is it this time? The detective with the lie detector quirk again? Or someone who can actually force Tomura to speak? How far are these heroes willing to go?

But the door opens, and it’s the one person Tomura can’t help but be shocked to see. Eraserhead.

Tired-looking as always, the scar underneath his eye a new addition from when Tomura last saw him in person. What’s he doing here? Tomura wishes he could ask. Instead, he just settles for a somewhat confused glare.

Eraserhead looks him up and down, expression unreadable. All underground heroes must have good poker faces, Tomura thinks. He wishes he had that ability. Tomura is not a good liar. He never needed to be.

“When’s the last time you had something to drink?” Eraserhead asks, hands moving to sign along, and, okay, is he here to play good cop? Playing off the begrudging respect Tomura has for him?

Tomura doesn’t move. He keeps glaring. Eraserhead sighs and approaches the table, dropping down in the chair opposite Tomura. He fumbles with a pouch on his belt for a moment, and eventually pulls out a juice box. It’s almost enough to make Tomura laugh at the absurdity - it’s the same brand Kurogiri buys. Eraserhead stabs the straw through the little hole on top and pushes it over on the table. Tomura looks down at the juice box, then up at him. He is thirsty. His throat is dry enough that swallowing hurts a little, and the sugar in the juice will definitely be helpful, and when the League comes to break him out, he’ll need to be in the best shape he can hope for. 

He sinks down in his seat the best he can, and stretches his head forward until he can catch the straw between his lips. It’s still humiliating, though better than someone holding it for him, and he looks anywhere but Eraserhead as he empties the juice box within seconds.

“Well, that’s a start.” Eraserhead slumps in his seat and sighs, sounding very world-weary. Tomura knows the man is only in his early thirties, but he seems to have been aging rapidly lately. That’s probably due to Tomura’s own actions. He wonders what Eraserhead sees when he looks at him. A victim to be saved, like All Might apparently thinks? Just a too skinny kid who is in over his head? Or is he actually smart enough to understand that Tomura doesn’t want, doesn’t need saving? That Tomura is the monster they should all be afraid of and he lives for it?

Maybe Eraserhead sees a little bit of both. Those eyes of his are very sharp. Tomura should have had the noumu take them, back at the USJ. Then his quirk wouldn’t have been a problem anymore either.

“I’d love to know what you’re thinking,” Eraserhead tells him, voice dry as Compress’ favored liquor.

Tomura raises a brow at him. Shrugs. Looks away.

Eraserhead is silent for a little while. The seconds tick by, though Tomura can’t be sure that his count is correct. There’s no clock in here. No window, either, of course. He has no way of telling how long he’s really been here. If he ends up falling asleep eventually, he’ll be completely lost. Hopefully his rescue comes before that.

“... Shigaraki,” Eraserhead says finally, slowly, “If you wanted to talk to me right now, would you be able to?”

Oh. Oh, no. Tomura knows they're being watched, but he doesn’t know how the detective’s quirk works, if he can detect a lie when it’s just communicated through a gesture... but even if he can’t... Tomura nodding right now would kind of prove Eraserhead’s point, wouldn’t it? So he sighs and gives a jerky shake of his head.

Eraserhead nods, clearly Tomura just confirmed what he suspected. Because unlike most heroes, Eraserhead actually has the brains to back up his quirk and fighting skills. "Detective, I'm going to need the key to those cuffs."

There's a crackle from the speaker in the corner of the room. "That doesn't seem like a wise idea."

Ah, arguing right in front of him. Tomura smiles lazily, even though he hates having his face exposed like this. They took Father and the others, of course. He's going to have to find them before they leave.

"I'll erase his quirk if he tries anything. You want him to communicate, don't you?" Eraserhead asks, a tad snappy.

There's a long pause, then the door opens and the detective steps through. He doesn't take his eyes off of Tomura, even as he hands Eraserhead a single, tiny key. Tomura returns his gaze with an outward calm that he's not feeling at all. He can't make them go back on this decision, he wants so desperately to have his hands free so he can scratch that incessant itch that's been growing worse and worse with each passing minute.

"You're going to let me take these off you without trying anything, right?" Eraserhead asks. They have no replacement cuffs, but those would be a farce anyway, wouldn't they? And if they want Tomura to sign, he'll need greater range than a standard set of them would allow him. He rolls his eyes and nods, presenting his folded hands to the hero. The detective watches for another moment or two, then steps back out, undoubtedly to continue observing.

It takes a little fumbling on Eraserhead's part to get the cuffs off, with all their little moving pieces, and he's either being very careful so he won't hurt himself on accident, or, less likely, so he won't hurt Tomura. Tomura's own eyes drift to his elbow and he wonders about the massive scar that must be hidden underneath that sleeve.

Finally, his hands are free, and gently glowing red eyes turn to his face.

Tomura ignores him for the time being in order to scratch at his neck, deep and thorough until he tears skin.

Eraserhead makes an aborted movement, as if to stop him, but then seems to change his mind, fist clenched atop the table. Good. If he wants Tomura coherent, he'll need to let him fight off the onset of another episode that's been looming for a while.

"Did All for One teach you sign language because of your nonverbal phases?" Eraserhead asks. It makes Tomura very aware of the fact that he doesn't usually do interrogations. This is none of the usual bullshit, talking around the point for ages. This is blunt and straight to the point.

Tomura gives a headshake.

Eraserhead waits, expectant.

Tomura thinks the hero is lucky he's bored and his is an innocent line of questioning and he actually respects Eraserhead. That's why he pulls his hand away from his neck and signs 'Sensei doesn't speak sign.'

"Who taught you, then?" Immediate, no hesitation. Why does he want to know this, of all things? Literally anything else would be more important. He may as well be asking how Tomura got so proficient at darts.

He sighs, and spells it out. 'K-U-R-O-G-I-R-I'

Eraserhead's brows draw together. "He taught you things? How long has he been around?"

Tomura presses his lips together and glares. Like hell is he giving them anything on the rest of the League. Especially Kurogiri.

The hero sighs. "Look, kid." Tomura scoffs.

"... Shigaraki. Back at the USJ, you used a name for me that's different from my official hero name. It's a name very few people know."

Now it's Tomura's turn to frown. He knows what the separate signs of Eraserhead's name mean, of course, and he's often thought they were odd, but seeing as his own sign name is also anything but villainous he didn't think he had room to judge.

'Your sign name?' he asks, 'Eraserhead?'

"No." The hero shakes his head and makes a series of signs. "Eraserhead." He then repeats the signs Tomura just used. "Shouta."

Oh. Well, that's awkward. Tomura gets the entirely absurd urge to apologize.

Having his sign name used by an enemy who very nearly killed him must be pretty uncomfortable for Eraser. Tomura would never want his enemies to know his own. It's private, and it was a gift that Kurogiri gave him. Even the rest of the League doesn't know it, they only know the one Tomura made up for himself, reusing the name of his quirk for it.

'Not many people know?' Tomura questions.

Eraserhead huffs. "Do I look like the kind of person who goes around sharing information like that?" Probably not, no.

Tomura nods. 'That's why you're here?'

"There's a lot that's odd about you, ki- Shigaraki. A lot that doesn't add up. This, in particular, is something that's been causing me some problems."

Oh.

Oh. Tomura can't help the laugh that breaks out of him, his voice returning only for the giggles that shake his shoulders. Eraserhead thought one of his trusted few had betrayed him. Had given the information to Tomura. That's too good. He almost wants to make him keep believing it. Or even tell him a lie, but, again, the detective is on the other side of the two-way mirror.

"I'm glad this is funny to you," Eraserhead says dryly, "Care to let me in on the joke?"

Tomura is still giggling when he signs, and maybe that's why he makes the mistake.

'Kurogiri taught me,' he says, 'But good to know I created some mistrust among you.'

Eraserhead is frozen in his seat. Even his quirk is inactive now, as Tomura suddenly realizes. He's held out pretty long. His eyes have got to hurt. Maybe Tomura can make him overextend himself. But there's too many guns nearby. Tranquilizers, no doubt. He wouldn't get very far, even if a kill or two would be satisfying.

'Can I have another juice box?' he asks, just to be difficult.

Eraserhead jerks out of his stupor. "Who... who did you say taught you?"

Did Tomura use Kurogiri's sign name on accident? Huh.

'K-U-R-O-G-I-R-I. Sign name: Kurogiri.' His hands form 'fluffy' and 'cloud' like they have a hundred thousand times. It's a cutesy name for someone who is not cutesy at all. But so is 'Dust Bunny' and so is 'Sleepy Cat'.

Eraserhead takes a shaky breath. His fingers are trembling when he signs 'Fluffy Cloud' himself. "Oboro," he says, "That's... what that... who that name belongs to. Shirakumo Oboro." He looks like he's very far away, but at the same time couldn't be more in the moment. He's pale, but his eyes are focused and dark. "Shigaraki. Tell me about Kurogiri."

It's in that moment that the door gets blown into pieces by a blast of blue flames.

And the shouting and running and destruction that follow don't really give them much more room for idle chit-chat.

[starvonnie]

Love Languages

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Fandoms: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types Relationship: Megatron/Rodimus | Rodimus Prime Characters: Megatron (Transformers),Rodimus | Rodimus Prime Additional Tags: Kissing, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, In a way, Suggestive Themes

Prompt: Patience

Also on AO3 “Be patient with him.”

That had been Drift’s advice when Rodimus broke the news to him that Megatron and him were now “a thing.”  He’d little more to say on the matter at all.  Just that he was happy for him.  Oh, and that he’d kill Megatron if he hurt Rodimus.  Which was fair.

Rodimus regretted that he hadn’t really asked for clarification on what he’d meant.  Be patient with what?  Did he just need a lot of foreplay or something?  

Whatever.  He didn’t dwell too much.

They kept to themselves for a little while.  Just long enough to spread the news to close friends and to smooth things over with Ultra Magnus before it got to the rumour mill. It took a week or so before they decided to just announce it (which was weird and awkward… but necessary), so now the whole ship knew.  Now they could just be a normal couple, right?

Rodimus strolled onto the bridge happily, for once. He walked right up to Megatron, touched his arm, and went to get up onto the fore of his pedes when Megatron took a half-step away.

“Good morning, Rodimus.”

Rodimus tried not to look hurt.  “Morning.”

Megatron awkwardly patted his hand, then got back to what he’d been doing.

Rodimus sheepishly made his way to the office, feeling optics on him.  The day passed slowly in a haze of rejection and paperwork.

The next day, he tried to walk normally and keep up a smile.  Again, he made a beeline for Megatron.  This time, he wasn’t engrossed in any work, and noticed Rodimus before he got to him. He went to do the same thing, and again, he stepped out of his reach.

“What gives?” Rodimus hissed.

“We’re at work.”

“Hmph.  Fine.” Rodimus stewed for a bit, but managed to lose himself in his work.  Plus, it was easy to look forward to the end of the day.  Megatron had agreed to go with him to Swerve’s for trivia night. If I must, he’d said.  

Still.  They wouldn’t be at work.  He couldn’t refuse a kiss then, right?

“I’ve got an idea to make this a little more interesting,” Rodimus said later, sitting across the table from Megatron.  

“Oh?”  Megatron looked wary.

“Well, I know most of the people here are on teams, but what if we competed?”

“I thought the point of this night was to be a couple’s thing?” Megatron asked, looking confused.

Rodimus shrugged.  “It’s not like a rule or anything.  That’s just what tends to happen.  But we’re both pretty smart, so I think it’d be fun to see who’s the smartest.”

Megatron shrugged.  “If that’s what you want.”

“Hold on, I’m not finished.  I haven’t gotten to the stakes.”

“I’m beginning to regret agreeing to this.”

Rodimus rolled his optics, annoyance creeping into his field.  “Don’t worry, it’s nothing bad.  I just figured that if one of us gets an answer wrong that the other gets right, the one who got it wrong owes the other a kiss.  Kind of a win-win situation, y’know?”

“Or you could just ask for a kiss.”

“Come on, Megs,” Rodimus whined.  “Can���t we just have a little fun?  Please?”

Megatron sighed.  “Alright, Rodimus.”

Fortunately, or unfortunately for Rodimus, they were both either really good at trivia or Swerve was really bad at coming up with trivia questions.  Either way, they hadn’t gotten any answers wrong.  It was time to take matters into his own hands.

“Whoops, looks like I got that one wrong,” Rodimus said, sarcastically feigning disappointment.  “Darn! Looks like I owe you a kiss.”  He crooked a finger at Megatron, pursing his lips slightly.

“Here?”

“… Yeah?”

Megatron shook his helm.  “Just keep a tally or something.  I’ll give them to you once we’re back at our habsuite.”

The rejection stung again, but at least he was able to soothe it with that fact that Megatron had called it our habsuite.

“Fine,” Rodimus muttered.

He had no trouble getting the rest of the questions right.

At least when they were walking back, Rodimus managed to capture Megatron’s hand and he didn’t take it back.  He seemed surprised at first, but then squeezed back with a smile on his face.  What weird rules did Megatron follow?

Whatever.  They were holding hands and heading back to their room together.  And maybe once they were inside…

Finally, Rodimus got his kiss.  He’d been so starved for kisses that the first one sent a rush of electricity through his frame.  His knees literally felt weak.  Really, every trope he’d ever heard was taking over his frame.  He did his best to steer them towards the berth, but he had no strength in his limbs.  Megatron had to be the one to do it.

“Satisfied?” Megatron asked with a little smirk.

“With you?”  Rodimus pulled him down again.  “Never.”

Rodimus wished the hands sitting courteously on his waist would slide lower.  After all, it had been long enough.  Too long, in Rodimus’ opinion.  If Megatron were one of his exes, they’d be getting into the kinky stuff right now. But here he was, stuck on first base.

Maybe he was just being cautious.  There were a couple conspiracy theories circulating around the ship.  One was that he’d manipulated Rodimus or was blackmailing him.  The other suggested literal brainwashing.  So… Rodimus would just have to make his intentions crystal clear.

Rodimus fixed Megatron with a lustful gaze.  He softly bit Megatron’s bottom lip during their next kiss and tugged on it as he pulled back.  With a sultry smile thrown over his shoulder, he guided Megatron to the berth and lay down.  He put his hands above his helm and spread his legs a bit, giving himself wholly to Megatron.  Wherever he wanted to touch, he could.

“Could you move over a bit?” Megatron asked, a little irritation in his voice.

Rodimus gave him an annoyed look, but obliged.

“For someone your size, you manage to take up most of the berth,” Megatron commented as he climbed in.

“We’re supposed to share,” Rodimus said.

“And that’s a two-way street.”

Rodimus stifled a frustrated growl and rolled onto his side.  He pressed himself flush to Megatron’s frame and kissed him again.  At least he seemed to be okay with this.  

Trying to be subtle, he slid his hand down Megatron’s frame. Just before it got to his array, however, Megatron grabbed his wrist.  He froze, his field crackling with confusion as he met his lover’s gaze.

“Sorry,” he said, when he realized how forceful he’d been. He lifted his hand to kiss where he’d hurt.  “Not tonight. I’m a little too tired for that.”

Not tonight?  More like, not ever.  Why didn’t Megatron want to frag him?  Did he not think he was hot?

“Okay…”  Rodimus tried not to let it show, but disappointment flooded his field.  His spoiler fell, too.

Megatron lifted Rodimus’ fallen chin.  He kissed him and pulled him close, instead.  It was nice, but… all of these rejections were piling on top of each other and weighing him down.

Did Megatron not want him anymore?  Maybe there was something to those conspiracy theories…

It didn’t help when he woke up in berth, alone. Tears pricked at his optics.  He was going to look so stupid in front of everyone when they found out he’d already managed to screw things up.  This was Megatron.  He should be happy anyone looked his way!  And why go to all the trouble of telling people and announcing things and even filling out paperwork because of their “working relationship?”

Well, frag him.  He can go to hell and he wasn’t even that hot and—

Rodimus cursed when he knocked over a glass on the nightstand and spilled energon everywhere.  He was already berating himself for forgetting about leaving it there when he saw the note.

Had to leave for an emergency.  It’s nothing major, and I can handle it.  

Ah.  He hadn’t forgotten.  But that meant he’d spilled what Megatron had left for him.

Sighing, but feeling a little better about things, Rodimus cleaned up the mess and mixed his own ration before heading to the bridge. He was thankful Megatron was in the office when he got there.  After checking in with Ultra Magnus, he went to the office, ensuring that he left the door wide open, since he could feel Magnus’ optics on his back.

“Thanks for dealing with whatever.  And for getting me my ration.”  He left out that he spilled it.

“You’re welcome, Rodimus.  I know you forget some mornings and the last thing we need is a cranky mech capable of creating fire.”  He smiled at him.

Rodimus chuckled.  He considered trying for another kiss, but decided against it.

He nodded towards the stack of data pads.  “A lot of paperwork today, huh?”

“I’ve got it today.  You go keep an optic on things out there.”  Megatron gave him a small smile.

“Okay.  And, um… we’re still on for tonight, yeah?”

“I wouldn’t miss it.”

 Rodimus had gone through every possible reason for why Megatron might be late until he landed on the only one that really made sense.

He wasn’t late; he wasn’t coming.

He dangled his pedes into the oil reservoir, pointedly choosing to not look at the stars.  Maybe then he could just pretend he wanted to be here alone.  It wasn’t meant to be romantic.  Maybe he was just checking the integrity of the oil, or making sure they had enough or…

Or maybe he was alone because he was so undesirable that even Megatron didn’t want him.  He was ready to slink back to his habsuite—his, not theirs—and cry himself to sleep when he heard the door open.

“I’m so sorry I’m late, Rodimus.”

“Oh, did we have something planned?” Rodimus said sarcastically.  “Well, there goes my plans to drown myself.”

Megatron sighed as he took a seat next to Rodimus. He refused to look at him.  He’d see anger in his optics, yes, but also the tears threatening to escape.

“I was on my way here when I saw Brainstorm… being Brainstorm.  I had to get him to stop what he was doing and then find some experiment to give him permission for that wouldn’t blow up the ship or tear a hole in the time-space continuum.  You know how he is.”

“Yeah, and I know how you are,” Rodimus said bitterly.

“I truly am sorry, Rodimus.  I wanted to be here.”

“Uh huh.  Just like you wanted to kiss me all those times, or, or frag the night before or like a week ago or when you wouldn’t hold my hand, or…”  Rodimus clenched his denta to keep himself from crying. He must already look so pathetic. He certainly sounded pathetic. It all sounded so petty when he gave voice to his thoughts.

“I’m sorry, Rodimus, this is… difficult for me.”  He sighed again.  “I apologize.  I didn’t realize this was weighing on you so heavily.”

“I don’t care.”

“Yes, you do.”

“Yeah!  Well!  If you don’t want me why did you even agree to date me?”  He turned flaring optics his way.  His anger fizzled out a bit when he saw the apology in Megatron’s gaze.

“Because I do want you.”

Rodimus scoffed.  “You’ve got a great way of showing that.”  He swiped at the one errant tear that leaked from his optic.

Megatron took one of Rodimus’ hands in both of his. He sighed, deflating.  “Let me explain.  I should have told you this from the start, but…”  He looked away.  “I suppose I was hoping I would just be able to get over it, but it’s clear that won’t happen just because I get to court a beautiful mech.”

Rodimus said nothing, but a blush tinged his cheeks pink.

“I’m sure you know that war can change someone.” He met Rodimus’ gaze, but wasn’t able to hold it.  “For me, one of those changes was touch.  Affection, really.  It’s…” He sighed again.  “Believe me when I say I want to hug you and kiss you and everything you want me to do.  And I will, eventually.  It will just take me a little longer.”

“Oh.”

Megatron brought Rodimus’ hand to his mouth and kissed it.

“But… I mean, you let me kiss you when we’re alone,” Rodimus said.  “So it’s clearly not the kiss that’s the problem.”

“It’s not inherently the problem, but, yes, it’s easier to do when we’re alone.  I was caught off-guard at Swerve’s.  But if we’re on the bridge we won’t be kissing.  We’re at work.  We have to be professional.”

“Fine.”

“For everything else, though, it’s… complicated. The want is there, but doing it…”

Rodimus put his free hand over Megatron’s.

Megatron looked up and smiled at him.  “I think I’m just having trouble letting my guard down. It has nothing to do with you.”

“Okay… so… what can I do?”

“If you want to do something, just ask me.  At least for now.  Whenever you…”  His face scrunched up in thought.  “You know when you hear a loud noise you weren’t expecting?  How your weapons seem to power up on their own?  Or your plating clamps down to prepare for a fight?”

“Yuuuup.  Fun stuff.”

“It’s like that.  In a way.  If I’m not expecting someone to touch me, well, that could be someone coming to stab me in the back.  Or you’re trying to get me to let my guard down to launch an attack when I’m not prepared.  And before you say anything, yes, I know how crazy it sounds.  I’m working on it with Rung.  Because I know you don’t want to hurt me.  I’m fighting my instincts here.  Instincts that kept me alive for millions of years.  I’ll get there, eventually.”

Drift’s words made a lot more sense now.

“Okay.  I’ll be patient with you.  But you gotta be patient with me, too.  Or understanding, I guess.  I’m pretty touchy-feely.  If I’m honest, I thought you’d just already gotten tired of me.”

Megatron chuckled and then gave him a sympathetic look. “I don’t think anyone could tire of you.”

“You’d be surprised.”

“Well, I can’t see it happening with me.  That being said, can I kiss you?”

Rodimus beamed.  “Of course.”

[middleearthmama]

Finally decided to start posting my old fics here, and finally figuring out how to do it! This was my very first fanfic ever. 

Rating: Explicit

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: M/M

Fandoms: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit (Jackson Movies) Relationships: Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield, Bilbo Baggins & Thorin Oakenshield Characters: Bilbo Baggins Thorin Oakenshield Additional Tags: Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Anal Sex, Top Bilbo, Bottom Thorin, Awkward Bilbo Baggins, Smitten Bilbo, Hair-pulling, Don’t copy to another site Language: English

The knock at the door rendered the whole room silent. The unlikely band of merry drinking dwarves simply froze, which was amazing, considering the unholy racket they had been making since they arrived. The hobbit huffed impatiently at the thought of adding another boisterous voice to the rabble. He was muttering about “filthy carpets” and “ghastly manners” as he flung his front door open for what he hoped would be the final time that evening.

Bilbo's jaw dropped as he took in the gorgeous dwarf standing in his doorway. He was not prepared for the clear, brooding eyes as blue as sapphires, the mane of thick, wavy black hair, and the solid, muscular stance of the creature at his door.

It took a few moments, as Bilbo was gawking, for him to realize the dwarf before him was glaring at him. Brows furrowed, sapphire eyes full of mistrust and doubt, lips turned down in a scowl. Gandalf introduced the stranger at his door as Thorin Oakenshield, however, Bilbo wasn't sure what else was said as he was caught in a daze.

Remembering his manners, and realizing he had been staring unabashedly at his guest for a full minute, Bilbo shook his head quickly to clear the cobwebs. He stepped aside to welcome the dwarf into his home.

Bilbo closed the door and took a tentative step towards the newest addition to his guests. The dwarf scrutinized him, slowly circling with a bemused look on his face. “So this is the hobbit.”

* * * * *

Several hours later, Bilbo had sufficiently embarrassed himself more times than he cared to count. He found himself helpless to his wandering eyes that always seemed to seek out Thorin, ogling him until someone inevitably would see and give him a knowing smirk. He also found himself suddenly unable to complete a full sentence in the dwarf king's presence, his tongue feeling clumsy in his own mouth, his brain unable to process the simplest of thoughts.

Thankfully, before he could succumb to his inevitable death by shame, the hobbit found himself nestled beneath his quilt. He lay awake, staring at his closed bedroom door, unable to sleep. His mind was overrun with heated thoughts of clear blue eyes, rippling muscles, and thick ebony hair. What did Thorin look like under all those layers? Was there more of that dark hair over the rolling expanse of his broad chest? Did that bulky armor hide any soft cushy bits, or was he all solid rock beneath it?

Bilbo thought he heard a thud from outside his bedroom door, but must to have been mistaken. Then, no, he was sure he heard something.

Yes, there was the unquestionable sound of footsteps heading straight for his room. Bilbo swallowed around the lump in his throat and squeezed his eyes shut, feigning sleep as he heard his door slowly creak open.

A few moments later, he felt a rough hand graze his cheek. “Master Baggins?” a voice whispered. His heart raced to life like a hummingbird in his chest. He knew that voice. It was the voice that he had been drawn to all night. The voice that made his knees grow weak. The voice that made the room a tad too warm, that made his face and collar grow hot.

Thorin Oakenshield was in Bilbo's bedroom. Leaning over his face, whispering warm breath over Bilbo's cheek. He felt his hair above his brow ruffle under the dwarf kings slow exhale.

Bilbo slowly opened his eyes. He looked up at Thorin and was surprised at what he found looking back at him. He was not expecting Thorin to be filled with such longing. His eyes were dark, the corners of his lips lifted slightly, as though he found Bilbo's wondering glance amusing.

“I don't mean to sound rude, but what are you doing in here? And why are you smirking at me?” Bilbo meant to sound firm, but his voice came out kind of shrill. Thorin chuckled. “I came to ask a question,” he replied, “ and the emotions that crossed your face just now were most amusing.”

Bilbo huffed and crossed his arms over his chest as he sat up to face the dwarf, now perched on the side of his bed. “Well go ahead what is it you feel can't wait until morning?” he asked impatiently, gesturing for Thorin to continue.

Thorin placed himself more solidly on the edge of Bilbo's bed, effectively crowding the hobbit's space. “I've watched you the last hours since my arrival. Why do you stare?” Bilbo shifted a little and opened and closed his mouth a few times, rendered speechless at being called out on gawking at the king.

“I would assume you wanted to bed me,” Thorin continued bluntly, “but you never asked. I felt the urge to come to you at first, then it occurred to me that this may not be common custom to hobbits, so I decided to approach you in private.” Thorin finished simply.

“I'm sorry. What are you saying? Approach me? For what, exactly?” Bilbo asked as he felt the heat of a blush creep up his cheeks.

“If a dwarf feels compelled to bed another, we simply come forward and ask. So I am asking. Do you wish to bed me, Bilbo Baggins?” Thorin questioned simply.

“Well- - I - that is to say.... come again?” Bilbo was once again rendered a babbling idiot by the dwarf.

“I thought my meaning was plain.” Thorin responded with a wry grin. “Yes it is, but – if - what you're asking - you want.......why?” came Bilbo's eloquent reply.

Thorin grinned at the stammering hobbit and leaned closer, half crawling until he was almost on top of him.

“Because, Master Baggins, you are fascinating and adorable.” Thorin found Bilbo's leg beneath the quilt and slowly moved his hand up to his thigh. Bilbo closed his eyes and shook his head a little, trying to find logic beneath the blanket of arousal that was rapidly engulfing him.

“Do dwarves tend to sleep with anybody they find interesting?” he asked incredulously.

“No,” Thorin answered as he leaned in to press his lips to Bilbo's neck, just beneath his ear.

“I- I- don't think.....um.........we should.....” Bilbo attempted to remember exactly why this was a bad idea as a hand found it's way into the hair at the back of his head. “Don't think,” Thorin said as he pulled Bilbo into a searing kiss.

All reason fled Bilbo's mind as the dwarf's hot tongue plundered his mouth unmercifully. He buried his hands in Thorin's glorious hair and pulled him closer, matching his enthusiasm.

Thorin reached down and with one swift movement, stripped Bilbo of his sleeping pants. He pulled his shirt off between heating kisses, casting his clothing across the room.

Bilbo thought he heard a lamp crash to the floor where his clothes had landed. He should be embarrassed the other dwarves would no doubt know what was happening in his room, but he couldn't find it in himself to care. He was too caught up in staring at the dwarf in his bed. Thorin was on his knees, raised up above Bilbo. And he was a sight to behold. Bilbo watched as Thorin disrobed, pulling a thin undershirt over a toned abdomen and chiseled chest, then working his trousers loose, he quickly stripped them over his muscled legs and cast them aside onto the floor. Thorin's muscles rippled in his arms and across his chest with every movement.

Yes. Thorin was most definitely solid all over. His long dark hair fell beautifully down his rugged back, the silver streaks near his face catching the moonlight through the window.

Bilbo may have been drooling.

Thorin tossed his hair over a shoulder and turned back to the hobbit's lust clouded gaze. “Oil?” He asked simply.

Bilbo jumped a little at being pulled from his thoughts so abruptly “What? Oh. Oh! Yes yes.” Flustered once again, Bilbo threw himself over the dwarf's side to reach the night stand at Thorin's back. There was a bit of fumbling and what may have been cursing before he pulled himself back to sit next to the dwarf.

“Do you want, or would you like to...?” Bilbo stammered. Thorin simply laid back in response, setting his feet up on the blankets beneath him and spread his thighs slightly.

“Well that... ok then.” Bilbo would eventually have to get used to being flustered. He wasn't sure how he managed to keep stammering and blushing so continuously. He rose up onto his knees and scooched over to the dwarf who was spread so neatly before him. He uncorked the vial of oil and managed to spill it all over both of his hands. Well, that would have to do. Thorin peered down at the flustered hobbit and raised an eyebrow.

Well that did it. Bilbo was quite tired of feeling like a blushing virgin maid, thank you very much. He grabbed the over-confident dwarf king by the hips and rolled him over. Thorin let out a grunt of surprise at the hobbit's sudden audacity, but made himself comfortable, cradling his head on his crossed arms on the bed. Bilbo squeezed Thorin's powerful hips in his oil slicked grasp and pulled them up. He looked at the firm backside now proudly displayed before him. He slid one hand over it greedily and used the other to coat himself in oil.

Bilbo couldn't help the groan of appreciation that escaped his lips. Thorin turned his head and shot Bilbo an amused look. Bilbo scowled and quickly lined himself up with the dwarf's entrance, and, without any warning, thrust unmercifully inside. Thorin let out a most undignified yelp and the hobbit couldn't help the grin that overtook his face as the dwarf king squirmed.

Bilbo waited for a few moments for the poor king to acclimate to the abrupt intrusion. As soon as he felt Thorin unclench around him, he shifted his hips experimentally. Thorin let out the most beautiful moan Bilbo had ever heard in his life.

Sweet Yavanna. This would not take long.

Bilbo immediately took up a brutal pace, eliciting more of those delicious sounds from the dwarf beneath him. He watched enthralled as Thorin's glorious back arched, the muscles rippling in response to his thrusts.

Bilbo couldn't stand to just keep watching. He had to touch.

Bilbo ran his hand slowly up Thorin's sweat slicked back and groaned. It was far better than he imagined. Thorin's skin was smooth, like hot silk over rock. He slid his hand into Thorin's thick hair, pulling it to the side. He tugged on it, using it as leverage as he resumed his punishing pace. He wrapped his other hand around to grip Thorin's cock beneath him and stroked in time with his thrusts.

Thorin gripped the sheets beneath him and muffled his roar in the mattress as he came hard over Bilbo's hand. Bilbo's pace became erratic as the dwarf clenched around him. His eyes rolled back as his hips stuttered. He put his fist in his mouth, biting down to keep from shouting out as he reached his own release.

Bilbo took a moment to catch his breath. Then, he more or less fell onto the bed next to Thorin, a sated mushy pile of hobbit. The dwarf rolled over onto his back with a deep sigh. Dwarf and hobbit lay panting on the sheets, sweat glistening on their bodies in the ghostly moonlight. Bilbo turned his head to look at Thorin, who was eying him with a most satisfied grin.

“You are full of surprises, Master Baggins. That was spectacular,” Thorin chuckled. “Yes. Yes it was,” Bilbo commented between gasps. “Next time, my burglar, I will be on top.” “Next time?” “Yes. You will be joining us, won't you?” Bilbo sighed in defeat and wiped the sweat from his face with his clean hand. “Yes. Next time, you can be on top.”

[whaleiumsharkspeare]

Today’s Variantology theme is Team Awesome, and wouldn’t ya know it, I have another fic for you! Hope you like!

*note: this fic takes place in an AU where Varian didn’t become the bad guy and instead moved into the castle after QfaD until he could figure out a way to save his dad. It takes place between season 1 and season 2* Also I don’t really have a title for it so I’ll just make one up now

A Late Night Chat

Eugene was sleeping soundly in his room in the castle. It had been another long day of helping Rapunzel try to figure out the mystery behind the black rocks, as well as tagging along with her as she did her usual princess duties. Life in the castle with the royal family of Corona was busy, and sometimes it was a little crazy, but he couldn’t ask for a better life than what he had now. He considered himself incredibly luckily to even be in the same kingdom as Rapunzel, let alone to live with her in the castle. It was a charmed life for sure. As Eugene lay on his bed dreaming his cozy dreams, he suddenly felt his slumber be interrupted by a knock at the door. Shaking himself awake, he sat on his bed rubbing his eyes, wondering if he’d even heard the sound right. After a few moments, another knock tapped on the door.

“Who is that trying to wake me up this late?” Eugene muttered to himself as he felt around in the dark for the oil lamp he kept on the bedside table. “I bet it’s Cass,” he grumbled as he finally found it and switched it on. “Doesn’t she know not to interrupt me when I’m trying to get my beauty rest?” Eugene grabbed the lamp and went to the door. Opening it and looking out, he at first saw nothing. Holding the lamp up to Cass’ height and expecting her to be there, he was startled when he heard a voice that most definitely did not belong to her.

“Uh, Eugene?”

“Gah!” Startled, Eugene almost dropped the lamp but he managed to catch it before it could fall to the ground and wake the whole castle with its clatter. He held the lamp out again, this time a little lower, and its light illuminated the young face of Varian standing in front of him. His hair was a bit messier than usual and his soft blue eyes were tired. He was wearing a faded blue shirt, pants that went down to a little bit above his ankles, and white socks with gray patches on the heels. One of them was pulled up a little higher than the other, with the other sock starting to slip down his foot just a bit. When he saw Eugene acting startled, he held his hands up and stepped back a little.

“Sorry, sorry. I didn’t mean to freak you out.”

Eugene had grown accustomed to seeing Varian a lot more frequently now that he lived in the castle with them, and more specifically right next door to Eugene, but he still wasn’t expecting to see the young alchemist so late at night. Eugene took long calming breaths after startling himself.

“Oh, Varian, it’s just you.” He held the lamp up and looked him up and down. “I hardly recognized you without your goggles and gloves. Don’t you know what time it is?”

“S-sorry.”

“What are you doing up so late?”

“I, uh, I just-“ Varian shuffled his feet awkwardly and sighed. “I couldn’t sleep.”

“Oh.” With the light of the lamp, Eugene could see that Varian was trying not to meet his eyes and he had a look on his face like there was something bothering him, or at least something on his mind. He looked pretty tired from the late hour, but mostly he just seemed a little unhappy. Understanding, Eugene moved out of the way of the open door. “Oh. Uh, well, do you want to come in then? Maybe talk about it?”

Varian nodded softly, still not meeting his eyes, and entered Eugene’s room. Eugene closed the door behind him and set the oil lamp down on the bedside table and turned it up brighter and lit a few candles to give the room additional light. Varian stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, not moving to sit anywhere, rubbing his right arm nervously. Eugene sat on the edge of his bed, watching the boy.

“What’s on your mind, Varian?”

“Well, lots of things,” he replied. He started rambling off, going about a mile a minute. “I’m a scientist so I’ve always got something on my mind. Especially with these rocks. I mean we still don’t know what they are or where they’re coming from and no matter what I try my alchemy just can’t seem to break them. And I’ve been charting their growth and they seem to be spreading at an exponential rate, so that’s a concern of mine. And then there’s Rapunzel with her hair. I don’t know what that’s about or how she’s connected to them but it’s very unusual, and-“

“Varian,” said Eugene calmly, interrupting his rant. He knew exactly what was going on. After all, he’d been a young boy once too. He knew Varian was trying to sidestep over what was actually bothering him. Varian stopped his rambling and made himself look at Eugene, and Eugene looked him in the eyes knowingly. “What’s really bothering you?”

Varian sighed and hung his head low.

“It’s...it’s my dad. I just can’t stop thinking about him.”

Eugene looked at Varian with sympathy as he continued his thought.

“He’s been stuck in that crystal for a while now. I’ve tried lots of things to set him free but nothing seems to be working. And the more I try, the more I’m reminded of what a failure I am, and how reckless and irresponsible I was to disobey him when he told me not to mess with the rocks. I just wanted to...to prove myself to him. That I’m not just a screw up. That I can figure out a way to get rid of the rocks and save my village. I just wanted him to be proud of me for once. But now, all I really want is for him to be back. I just...just miss him.” He wiped a tear from his eye and glanced up just in time to see Eugene looking at him. Feeling embarrassed, his face turned a bright shade of pink and he looked away awkwardly.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to get all emotional like that. I know I should probably try to be a bit stronger about this.”

“No. No, Varian,” said Eugene, his voice warm and kind. He got off his bed and put his hands on Varian’s shoulders and knelt down onto the floor so that he could match Varian’s height. “Don’t apologize for feeling emotional. That’s totally normal. It’s not healthy to suppress your feelings. You don’t have to put on a brave face and act tough. You’re not very good at acting tough anyway,” he said in an affectionately teasing manner.

“I know,” Varian replied, cracking a slight smile and letting out a little awkward laugh. Eugene continued.

“No, but seriously. What you’re going through, that’s a very difficult thing. I can understand why it would keep you up at night. Nobody should have to deal with what you’re dealing with. And uprooting yourself to come here and stay in the castle, that was probably a very hard decision, and you’re brave for making it. Don’t be embarrassed for feeling sad about what happened. Honestly, I’d be more concerned if you didn’t miss him.”

“It’s just, he’s the only family I have left. My mother passed away when I was very young. I barely remember her anymore. Without him, I’ve got no one. I’m all on my own. And I’m not a little kid, I can handle myself, but-“

“You don’t want to be alone,” Eugene finished. Varian looked up at him. Eugene shook his head in understanding. “I know exactly how you feel.”

“You do?”

“Yes. It’s hard to tell because of my roguish charm and confident personality, but I was a lot like you growing up.”

Varian smirked at him for his comment, but he listened as Eugene finished his story.

“See, you thought me and Flynn Rider from the books were the same person, but that’s just not true. ‘The Tales of Flynnigan Rider’ books were just something that I adored as a kid, and I would read one every night in the orphanage to all the younger kids.”

“The...the orphanage?” Varian asked, his eyes wide in surprise.

“Yes. I’ve only told this story to two other people so you should consider yourself lucky that you’re hearing this. But I grew up in an orphanage. I was put there as a baby. I never knew who my real parents were, or if they were even still around. I always imagined they were these great adventurers, and that one day they’d come back and find me. But they never did, and no one ever wanted to adopt me. It was hard, growing up feeling lonely all the time. Never having answers about my parents and wondering why no one seemed to want me. I felt alone very often. But I loved the Flynn Rider books and the way that he could travel around doing whatever he wanted to do with no worries, just a life of adventure. He wasn’t a thief, but for a kid with nothing, I guess it just seemed like the better option. No one ever seemed to be coming, so my buddy Lance and I struck out on our own when we were about your age. I took the name from the books, and the two of us started our life of crime. Now I’m not telling you this to condone the idea that we were right in our actions. I know that being a thief was wrong. I’m only telling you this so that you can know that someone understands how you feel. Afraid of being alone, always seeking approval from others, I know exactly where you’re coming from.”

“Wow. I had no idea,” Varian said softly. Eugene shrugged.

“I guess we all have some element of our past that we’d rather not discuss. But if we can use it to help others, then it’s worth it. The important thing to remember is that our pasts don’t have to define who we are. Whoever we were in the past, whatever decisions we made, it’s true that they shape us into the people we are, but we don’t have to let it rule our lives. We have the power to change. What happened in the past is over and done, but the future is ours for the taking, and it can be whatever we make it out to be. Maybe I was a lonely thief then, but now I’m an honest citizen surrounded by people that I love. You don’t have to be defined by your past either, Varian. You are not a failure and you are not a screw up. You made a mistake, sure, but what matters is that you’re learning from it and you’re trying to fix it. Varian, you’re a good kid. A smart kid. I know that you’re gonna figure this thing out eventually. And until then, you don’t have to be afraid of being alone. You are surrounded by people who care about you. Rapunzel cares about you, Cassandra doesn’t have a soul but she still cares about you. And I care about you, too. And one thing I learned in the orphanage is that I hate seeing sad kids, so you better smile before you leave or this whole conversation will be pointless.”

“Thanks for talking to me, Eugene. It really did make me feel better.” Varian yawned and stretched his arms. “And you’re right. It is pretty late. I should probably get back to bed.” Varian walked over to the door and stood in the doorway for a moment.

“Goodnight, Eugene.”

“Hey, now, what about our agreement?” said Eugene.

“Oh, right,” Varian replied. He flashed him a quick grin, showing off his two little front buck teeth. Eugene smiled back at him and nodded.

“There we go! That’s better. Goodnight, Varian.”

He made his way out of the doorway and started to close the door behind him.

“And Varian,” Eugene called. Varian held the door open wider to catch what he had to say. “If you ever need to talk again about something that’s bothering you, or if you just want to talk about whatever, you know where to find me. You talk, and I’ll listen.”

Varian smiled and nodded, then closed the door softly behind him. Eugene sighed in relief for having helped the boy out. Then, with a yawn and a stretch, he blew the candles out and switched off the lamp as he gave himself back up to sleep.

And that’s it! Hope you enjoyed!

[capricornus-rex]

A Legacy Begun (2)

Chapter 2: The Wedding | Cal Kestis x Reader

Summary: After a long time of running and fighting, you and Cal decided to finally settle down after all these years to raise a family. However, it was never a life of peace whilst the shadow of the Empire looms over your heads.

Prompted by Anon: Hiya! Still taking any requests? If so, can you write something about Cal and JediReader finally settle down and have a kid or something.

A/N: Alexa play A Thousand Years by Christina Perri & Steve Kazee ;;;///w///;;;

Also posted in AO3

Additional prompt: My fic idea

Tags: Scruffy! Cal Kestis, Daddy! Cal Kestis, Adult! Cal Kestis, Jedi Family, Jedi Offspring, Force-Sensitive Offspring, Settling Down, Rebel Alliance

Previous: Part 1 | Next: Part 3 | Masterlist

2 of ?

Two days before the big day, Merrin woke up early—perhaps the earliest you’ve seen her up—and she told you to wash up and get dressed. She dragged you along to the town that sat on the valley, a trek away from where the Mantis sat in a forest clearing.

It is clear that she was excited for you and Cal, and wanted to be of help to you in time for your celebration.

“Have you ever attended a wedding, Merrin?”

“I can’t say I have, but that’s what makes me excited—I get to see one for the first time, and it’s yours, no less!”

Her enthusiasm was new to you, normally, when she’s curious about something—beyond the knowledge that she has from living in Dathomir—she would only inquire, question after question until her mind has been sated. But this display of hers was unique—there was a child-like glee in her as she tugged your hand in hers, leading you into the town with the objective of the perfect dress.

“Don’t the Nightsisters and Nightbrothers in Dathomir have a sort of union?”

“We’re not a celebratory kind, [y/n]. Once a Nightsister finds her mate in the Nightbrother village, that is that, apparently,”

“I see,”

The city, known as Reema, was a sizable settlement whose business districts and residential areas mingled together—as well as the peoples that resided there. It was a town abundant in textiles, exotic foods, as well as a sturdy, construction material whose raw state originates from a bluish-green mineral called Zakora found in the planet’s oceans and deeper reefs—giving the citizens’ homes a decorative, mosaic-like effect.

You made it clear that you want everything to be simple yet perfect. Merrin already understood that you were not one for grandeur. There was one street in the business district that had a whole row of stores that sold fabrics and pre-made clothes. Some of the shops had a dress or two displayed behind their glass window; but you two girls skipped most of them since they didn’t fit your taste or they priced the clothes unreasonably… or both.

“I think we’ve swept the entire street in search of your dress, [y/n],”

“It’s okay, there’s no need to rush. We can take a break if you like, Merrin,”

“Of course,” the Nightsister’s eyes trailed over your shoulder. “There’s some shade over there.”

“Perfect! Come on,” you take her hand and bring her along to the bench underneath a tree.

After taking a breather, you and Merrin agreed to have one last sweep before heading home. Hopefully by then, you would have found what to wear before heading back to the Mantis. The two girls walked together through the street, passing by the same shops but stopping to look at the ones you’ve skipped.

Merrin gave a slight tug of your hand when she stopped to see a dress hop that stood out from the rest.

“This looks promising,” the Nightsister commented.

“Come on, no harm in trying,” you added.

Perhaps, it might be the smallest atelier you’ve seen in this street. The person who greeted you was a young woman, you’re under the impression that she was an apprentice seamstress, but upon examining the studio, you realize that she worked alone.

She was startled by the sound of her door chimes ringing upon your entrance, she fumbled about on her work desk and she stomped through piles of fabric that pelted the floor.

“H-Hello,” she stammered shyly, embarrassed by the mess. It seemed that she wasn’t expecting any visitors.

“Hi there,” you warmly greeted.

Merrin looked around the place, “Do you work alone?”

“Yes, m-my name is Milana,”

“Hello, Milana, is it alright with you if we take a look around your shop?”

“Please, by all means, miss,”

You flashed a friendly smile as you thanked her, she managed to repay the gesture and awkwardly leaned against the edge of her worktable. She constantly fiddled with a strip of cut fabric, anxiously watching these two ladies who just entered her shop. The young girl’s head was racked with questions that she answered herself in her mind.

“For what occasion, may I ask?”

“A wedding,” Merrin answered, then bobbed her head to you. “For her.”

The young lady’s eyes lit up, suddenly enthused, and she tried to break out of her awkward demeanor.

“Oh! I have a section specifically for that,” she chirped. “Please, follow me here.”

Her studio had another room, neater and less cluttered than the main space, two racks hugged the walls and another work desk sat by the window of the room—but a dress on the works occupied the table instead of drawings and sketches. She helped you out in deciding the designs by asking you what kind of style you wanted.

“Just something simple, Milana, please. I don’t want to go through puffy skirts and wide sleeves anymore!” you joked.

The young designer had an array of dresses that nearly fitted your taste—pertaining to your preference of straight skirts, slim sleeves, and minimalist designs.

Eventually, after scouring every dress she has out in the racks, Milana spotted you pulling out a particular white dress—its transparent neckline gave the illusion that white leaves, sown and expertly shaped with beads, crawled up to a lady’s bosom, though it lacked sleeves; and the skirt is made out of billowy tulle. You instantly fell in love with it.

“May I?” you smiled.

“Oh, of course, miss!”

Merrin helped you in fastening the back of the dress, minutes later, you come out of the fitting room—which was only a nook covered by drapes—and the two girls gasped upon your appearance. You walked up to the front of the mirror, turning around to get a look of yourself in different angles, you even attempted to do a little twirl so the skirt flared.

“Aww [y/n],” Merrin fawned.

“This is it!” you giggled.

“It’s perfect, Miss [y/n]! Simply immaculate!”

When you announced in the studio room that you’re taking it, the young designer ran towards a closet that sat beside the mirror. She pulled out one of the drawers and produced a small box.

“Originally, when I made that dress, it had to go with this,” she flipped the lid open, revealing a silver headpiece. The designer explains that it should be worn on the back of the head and no particular hairstyle is required for it to be securely worn on the bride’s hair.

While Milana explained, Merrin already knew what to do with your hair on the wedding day. Milana also provided a selection of shoes for you, admitting that you were used to boots for most of your life, you decided to play it safe and chose the cream-colored heels that were only two inches high.

You couldn’t thank the young designer enough, you insisted paying a little extra for her help and she had no other choice but to accept—although she did it with great gratitude and bade well wishes to you for your wedding.

—–

Today’s the day.

You wake up with a rapid heartbeat and clammy palms.

The wedding happens in the afternoon, Cal had found the perfect spot where the ceremony will be held. It was customary that bride and groom don’t meet on the day itself, thus, both of you slept in separate rooms—you slept in the same bunker as Merrin and Cere last night while Cal remained in the original quarters.

For the rest of the day, Merrin and Cere delivered food and drink to you and would allow you to go around the ship—granted that Cal was absent in the Mantis—and this went on until three hours prior to the ceremony.

“How are you feeling, [y/n]?” Cere asked, placing her hand on your shoulder.

“Nervous,” you awkwardly chuckled.

Cal had already got himself cleaned, his red hair slicked back while his growing stubble remained undisturbed, and donned his crisp black ensemble piece by piece: starting off with a long-sleeved tunic over a short, black leather vest, and finishing it off with black pants and boots.

“How do I look, BD?”

“Beee! Trill, chirp!”

“Yeah? Thanks, buddy,” he chuckled. “Well, here goes.”

He marched out of his quarters, passing by the bathroom door and heard the water running, he heard you humming and giggling in between the song. He smiled to himself and imagined what you’d look like when you come marching towards him.

You finished washing yourself, returned to the shared room and Merrin delivered your entire outfit. The Nightsister assisted you once again in fitting the dress, only now did you realize that the dressed emphasized your curves, you put the shoes on while seated and she began working on your hair. Merrin’s slender fingers created an elaborate braid that crowned the back of your head, she secretly used a little bit of her magick to make sultry waves on the remaining length of your hair, and for the finishing touch, the crown of silver leaves nestled above the braid. You also splurged on some makeup for this day: you drew winged lines on your eyelids, painted your lips to a soft pink, and brushed your cheeks with powder and blush.

“There, you’re ready,” Cere cooed, examining you from head to toe and resting her fingers underneath your chin.

Merrin stood by Cere’s side to take a look at you as well, she smiled, triumphant and proud of her masterpiece on the bride.

“You’re so beautiful, [y/n], the most beautiful bride I’ve ever seen,” the Nightsister fawned.

"Thank you so much," you squeaked, grateful of the help you've received from the two ladies.

“We’ll see you there, okay?”

“Okay, Cere,” you breathed.

They embraced you and kissed your cheek one by one before leaving the room. Five minutes later, you finally walk out of the ship. Your bouquet of flowers rested on the lounge table. The entry ramp was left open and you take the deepest breath you’ve ever taken in your life.

“Here it goes, [y/n],”

You take the first step out of the ship, you were so nervous at the moment that you could feel your footing unstable—even though you practiced walking on the ramp with the shoes on for a whole day—but you managed to get to flat ground. You were surprised to find one of the male partisans back in Kashyyyk. It was a surprise to be sure, but a welcome one. He was to deliver you to the aisle, to your husband-to-be.

“Cere said it was a surprise,” the partisan added.

You gripped your bouquet and continued your march with the partisan guiding you, following the path showered with flower petals of all colors.

Cal stood by the lake, awaiting for your entrance; Merrin, BD-1, Greez, and the rest of the witnesses stood at the side of the path waiting for you as well. When a splash of white caught Cal’s eye, and you appeared in the arch that the trees formed, he almost stopped breathing. His heart leapt at the sight of you—dressed like a demure goddess, the length of your hair spilled over your shoulders, and your face naturally glowed with the sunset as you smiled while walking the aisle.

“Wow…” he gasped.

Cal found you more beautiful than the sunset behind him. Your eyes spanned across the lake’s clearing and found some familiar faces like Mari Kosan and a few partisans you’ve personally befriended. In the gradually shrinking distance, you and Cal traded shy smiles. It felt like your legs were moving on their own, but you didn’t resist them. You knew that you were walking into a newfound life to share with the man you love.

His tears instantly welled up and he had little to no time to fight them back, and then his heart pounded faster and faster for every step you took. You finally stood a mere inch away from him. He bit his lip as he smiled, you caressed his cheek and then a single teardrop escaped his eye.

“Darling…” you whispered, running your thumb across his cheek to wipe away the tear.

He offered you his arm and you linked it with yours. The both of you turned to face Cere who presided the ceremony.

“Here I stand before two individuals, whose bond was forged, grown, and then strengthened by time and by the Force. They have willed to nurture that bond through this ceremony of marriage and for the times to come,”

Cal couldn’t help but steal a glance at you, the gesture was returned when you turned to smile back at him as Cere stated her opening remarks.

“May the words of their vows express their unbreakable connection that run as deep as the Force itself.” She cued.

The bride and groom faced each other.

Cal reached for your hand and you willingly took it as he recited his vows.

“Lo, behold my Maiden, for she will cast away my fears that reside in the Dark. She is my torch that will lead me away from the shadows of doubt, to whom I will forever hold on to. To you, [y/n], my beloved wife, I commend my heart, life, and soul—all this as the Force wills it.”

Next, you reached for his free hand to which he gladly took as you said your vows.

“Lo, behold my Knight, for he will combat the haunts of the Dark. My shield to conceal me from the evils, to whom I will always find shelter in thy arms. To you, Cal, my husband, I commend my life, heart, and my soul—all this as the Force wills it.”

Finally, Cere took a step back and ignited what used to be Trilla’s lightsaber—instead of a bright red beam, a blade as white as bleach emerged from the hilt—and she instructed both of you to kneel.

“By the will of the Force, I dub thee, [y/n] Kestis—wife of Cal Kestis.” She hovered the saber above your shoulders and then concluded her dubbing by hovering the blade over your head.

She then repeats the gesture when it was Cal’s turn, “By the will of the Force, I dub thee, Cal Kestis—husband of [y/n] Kestis. All this as the Force wills it, and so shall it be for your joined days until the end.”

After her oration, you and your husband stood up.

“You may kiss the bride.” Cere declared.

Cal cupped your cheeks, pulled you in for the sweetest, most tender kiss of your life, his stubble tickled your face but you didn’t care; you wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing your lips against him as you smiled in between kisses, and applause and cheers filled the forest. When he pulled away, your new husband snuck another kiss on the tip of your nose, warranting a tiny chuckle from you.

“I love you,” he whispered to you.

“I love you too,”

The wedding was immediately followed by a banquet celebration courtesy of Greez. The Lateron really cooked up a storm when he served the slow-cooked Nerf roast to the table, a Jogan berry cheesecake, and Phillak steaks. Pouring two glasses of wine, the newlyweds linked arms with glasses in their hands.

“Bottoms up!” you and Cal said in unison as you drank the wine from each other’s glasses, chugging down the slightly strong liquor and fighting off the bitter taste.

Your guests laughed and applauded once both of you finished your wine. Evening had washed over Cerinda, the moonlight’s reflection rippled in the lake and fireflies dotted the space like starlight while you and Cal perform your first dance as husband and wife.

“To the newlyweds!” Mari Kosan proposed a toast, raising her glass and everyone followed suit.

They lightly tapped their glasses, urging the two of you to kiss, Cal was the first to cave in. When he spun you in his hand, he pulled you in closer to him so that his lips meet yours once more. Applause filled your ears once again, both of you could feel each other smiling in the middle of the kiss.

Your fingers raked his hair and then your hand trailed to his jaw, the prickly hairs of his stubble brushed roughly against your nails.

“This is the best day of my life,” Cal cooed.

“Here’s to forever?”

“Forever and ever, my wife, until the galaxy ends.”

[poorrichardslegacy]

Kacxa Week 2020 Day 2 - Late Night Adventures

The Melmachian Defense

SUMMARY: His family asleep, Keith sits alone with his thoughts. He is bothered by his daughter’s reaction to the story Soran told them about their parents first visit to the planet. Acxa joins him, knowing her husband is upset. To cheer him up they sneak away for what they think is a safe midnight stroll to reflect and talk. It proves to be anything but the romantic interlude they were hoping for.

NOTE: This is my entry for Day 2 of Kacxa Week 2020, and it is Part 3 of a 3-part Return to Braylar IV story line.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26834671

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Voltron: Legendary Defender Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Acxa/Keith (Voltron) Characters: Acxa (Voltron), Keith (Voltron), Keith's Wolf (Voltron), Original Galran Character(s) Additional Tags: Family Bonding, Meet the Family, Kacxa Week 2020, Family, Family Drama, Teenage Drama, Teenagers

---------------

Kogane Campsite, Braylar IV

Keith sits quietly at the entrance to the cave, alone with his thoughts.

He looks out at the night sky, thinking back to the last time he was here, at night, staring out into the darkness. Back then, Acxa was lying on a bed of straw covered with blankets, fighting off the effects of Hyena poisoning. Narti had just arrived on the planet and, thinking Keith had taken advantage of Acxa in her debilitated state, got into a brief fight that only ended when Sonai wolves backed Narti into a corner. Later that night, Soran emerged from the cave to warn him that a storm was coming.1

He sits here, 23 decaphoebs later, staring out into the same inky darkness that is nighttime on Braylar IV. This time, there is no storm coming. This time, his family sleeps peacefully in comfortable sleeping bags behind him.

His family. The last time he was here, a family was the furthest thing from his mind. Now, somehow, he is both the husband to the prettiest woman in the universe (his opinion) and father to two beautiful, independent, and frequently rambunctious girls.

Just as before, someone emerges from the cave to join him. This time it is Acxa, come to check on her husband.

“Hey you. What’s wrong?” She sits next to him, takes his hand, and brings it to her lips.

He squeezes her hand in return. “Hey…nothing’s wrong, I just couldn’t sleep. I came here to look at the stars.”

Acxa stares up at the night sky. “And you expect me to believe that? Keith, it’s a cloudy night, there are no stars out. I’ll ask my question again. What’s wrong?”

He leans back against one of the boulders at the cave entrance and exhales deeply. “The girls’ reaction to Soran’s story tonight…they must think their father is a real jerk.”

“Keith…they think no such thing. Why would you say that?”

“Oh, let’s see. How about ‘Not exactly good boyfriend behavior’, and a sarcastic ‘wow Dad that was really romantic’ for starters.”

“Oh, for the love of…THAT’s what’s bothering you? Keith they are teenagers! Of course, they are going to think their parents are the stupidest and most awkward people in the universe! That, biologically speaking, is what happens with teenagers in every known species! They’ll grow out of it and they’ll see just how cool their incredibly awesome mother and father really are!”

Realizing that emo Keith has settled over her husband and that he is not likely to snap out of his funk on his own, she stands and grabs his hand. “Come on.”

Keith protests meekly as his wife hauls him to his feet. “Where are we going?”

“We’re going to go for a walk by that lake we passed on the way here. It’s not that far away. The clouds are breaking, and I want to see what it looks like under the two moons of this planet. Especially since the last time I was here you called me, what was the term you used…loopy?” She grabs him by the arm, pulls him close, and nuzzles his earlobe with her nose. “Besides…I need some alone time with my husband.”

“Hmm…I like how you think, woman. Bring your blaster pistol, just in case. I know the Hyenas are supposed to be gone, but you never know.”

---------------

As they leave the campsite and head down the path leading to the lake, two pair of eyes follow their progress down the hillside.

“I don’t know, Mireya. Going to the lake this time of night doesn’t sound like a good idea to me.”

“Yeah. I think we need to tell Cosmo where they are going.”

---------------

Lakeshore, Just Below the Kogane Campsite

Keith and Acxa arrive on the lakeshore and are immediately blown away by the sight of two moons shimmering on the water. The walk hand-in-hand down the beach for a quarter mile before Keith slips his arm around Acxa’s waist and pulls her close.

Stopping, they put their foreheads together and stare longingly into each other’s eyes.

“Credit for your thoughts, love.”

“Oh, I don’t know if you can handle my thoughts right now my dear.”

She purrs softly, tracing the scar on his cheek, and speaks in a low, sultry voice. “I can handle anything you bring my way, Mr. Kogane. That includes you and your thoughts. Try me.”

Their moods change in an instant as a rustling in the woods causes them to freeze. “Keith…what kind of animals are on the prowl at night on this planet?”

“The bad kind.”

They peer into the underbrush, their eyes adjusting to the ambient light of the area. Four sets of yellow eyes peer back at them.

“Keith, are they what I think they are?”

“Yeah. Hyenas.”

“Pistols or swords?”

Keith vividly remembers what happened the last time they were in close quarters combat with the Hyenas. “Pistols first. Don’t let them get too close.”

He quickly scans the area looking for a close defensive position. Finding none, he tells her to do the only thing they can do. “Move to that little spit of land sticking into the lake. The water is deep. They can’t surround us there.”

Keith and Acxa move towards the spit but are cut off as the Hyenas emerge from the forest, slowly surrounding them. Like they did 23 decaphoebs earlier, Keith and Acxa go back to back to defend against the Hyena attack.

Sensing an easy kill, the Hyena’s charge their position and get the shock of their lives. Their easy prey is ready for them.

Keith and Acxa swiftly land blaster pistol shots on all four of the hyenas. The Hyenas withdraw and, while stung by the shots from the pistols, they are by no means seriously injured by them.

“This isn’t working. We need to draw swords.”

Taking advantage of the temporary disorganization in the Hyena’s attack, they reach the spit and put the deep-water lake to their backs, so that the Hyena’s cannot surround them again.

Assessing their position and the attack tendencies of their enemies, a thought strikes Acxa. “Keith, did your mother teach you the Melmachian defensive technique?”

Keith smiles. “Yeah, one of the first ones she taught me. A bit suicidal, don’t you think? This isn’t a game of Gorblonthian Checkers we’re playing here.”

“Look wise guy, do you want to have any chance of seeing your daughters finish growing up? We’ve only got one shot at this.” She shoots him a quick glance and a wink. “You ready, Paladin?”

“Oh, yeah. Let’s do this!”

Still stinging from the blaster pistol wounds, the Hyenas charge their position and immediately run into a problem. The Hyenas are so large and the spit of land so narrow that only two can reach Keith and Acxa at a time.

The pair swing their Blades in unison, stopping the first two Hyenas charging at them in their tracks. As the wounded Hyenas struggle to scamper backwards and get away, they stumble over the ones behind them.

“ACXA NOW!”

Taking advantage of the Hyena’s temporary confusion, Keith and Acxa charge towards the retreating animals. Nimbly clambering up the flanks of the wounded Hyenas before the startled animals realize what they are doing, they hurl themselves into the air and in mid somersault land solid Blade blows across the backs of the third and fourth Hyenas.

As the four wounded animals fall back to regroup, Keith and Acxa do the same and make their way back onto the narrow spit of land.

“I think it might have worked.”

Keith casts his gaze towards the snarling and drooling Hyenas. “Actually I think we just pissed them off. They don’t look happy.”

Before the wounded and now incredibly angry Hyenas can mount another charge, five bright flashes of light erupt in front of them. Their eyes clearing as their night vision returns, the Hyenas four wounded Hyenas find themselves confronted by five exceptionally large Sonai Dire Wolf males

A sixth Sonai Dire Wolf, Corima, appears. On her back are Keith and Acxa’s daughters Mireya and Cataleya.

The Sonai males growl and bare their fangs at the wounded Hyenas. After some pawing of the ground and a back-and-forth exchange of growls and snarls, the Hyenas retreat into the forest.

---------------

Cosmo quickly approaches Keith and Acxa as the males stand watch on the forest trails leading to the beach

“Are you two ok?”

“Yes, we’re fine. Sorry, Cosmo. When you told us the Hyenas had moved on, we thought it would be safe to come down here.”

“Yes Keith, but what I should have also told you is that they test our defenses every now and then. You two just happened to go for a stroll during one of their tests. When Mireya and Cataleya told us where you were, I knew there would be trouble. We got here as soon as I could round up some help. So…would you mind telling me why you two are down here in the first place?”

Keith and Acxa both visibly blush as they exchange awkward glances. Keith turns back to Cosmo to respond, but the crafty alpha male already has the answer to his question.

“Never mind, let me guess.” He sniffs the air, then looks disapprovingly at the pair. “Two people, alone by the lake, on a moonlit night. No need to tell me why you are here, I can smell the pheromones on you both. Great stars you two!”

Corima strides up to them, and not a moment too soon as far as Acxa is concerned. “Apologies, Acxa. Your pups told us where you and Keith were going. After they told Cosmo and I, they insisted on coming to help and make sure you were ok.”

“I see.”

Acxa looks sternly at her daughters.

“Your father and I will deal with you two back at the campsite.”

---------------

Kogane Campsite, Braylar IV

“So, you eavesdropped on a private conversation between your mother and I?”

The girls look down at the ground, dejectedly. “Sorry Dad. We heard you and Mom talking. You sounded upset. We wanted to make sure you were ok.”

“So, what did you hear?”

Cataleya hesitates before shyly looking at her mother to answer her question. “Pretty much everything.”

Acxa buries her face in her hand in embarrassment as Keith crosses his arms. “I see.”

“Dad, I know you’re not happy with us for listening in. We’re sorry for violating your privacy. But…if we hadn’t…I don’t want to think about might have happened to you and Mom.”

Acxa crosses her arms and looks to her husband. “She has a point, Keith.”

“Yes, she does. Ok. I think that’s enough excitement for one night. Let’s all try to get some sleep.”

As the girls slink off towards their sleeping bags, they stop and turn back to face their parents.

“For the record Dad, Cataleya and I don’t think you or Mom are jerks, or the stupidest people in the universe. What you and Mom did tonight… wanting to be alone together and taking a romantic moonlit walk on a lakeshore…that was cool. Not giving a crap about the killer Hyenas on the prowl…ok, sorry, that was stupid. But then using a suicidal Blade of Marmora defensive tactic to fight them off…that was quiznacking awesome!”

“Yeah. Mom, Dad, you guys are pretty special.”

Keith and Acxa rush forward and pull the girls in for a group hug. Acxa’s eyes fill as she kisses each of her daughters on their foreheads.

“You two are pretty special as well.”

 END NOTES: The full story of Keith and Acxa’s first visit to Braylar IV, when they were still on opposite sides, is found in Chapter 11 of Return of the Prince (Chapter title is Cry of the Wolf)

In the story yu’ve just read the Kacxa daughters are 16 years old. They are entering what I call the Mark Twain years. According to my father, Mark Twain supposedly related the following anecdote to a friend. “When I was 16 years old, I thought my father was the dumbest man on the planet. When I turned 21, I was amazed at how much he learned in 5 years.”

In my experience with my own father, I have to say Mark Twain was right. Dad, this one is for you.

[damienthepious]

oh boy. oh boy. oh fuck. oh boy. SCATTERED RETURNS????? y’know that reckoning chapter that tried to kill me? it happened again. also we ain’t done quite yet, darlins

Scattered On My Shore (Chapter 16)

[Ch 1] [Ch 2] [Ch 3] [Ch 4] [Ch 5] [Ch 6] [Ch 7] [Ch 8] [Ch 9] [Ch 10] [Ch 11] [Ch 12] [Ch 13] [Ch 14] [Ch 15] [ao3] [Ch 17] [Ch 18] [Ch 19]

Fandom: The Penumbra Podcast

Relationship: Lord Arum/Sir Damien/Rilla, Sir Damien/Rilla, Lord Arum & The Keep

Characters: Rilla, Lord Arum, Sir Damien, The Keep

Additional Tags: Second Citadel, Lizard Kissin’ Tuesday, Pre-Relationship, (for the three of them. it’s established r/d), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Injury, Injury Recovery, Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, (this will also be), Enemies to Lovers, (for damien and arum eventually lol), Mutual Pining, canon typical Arum ignoring feelings

Fic Summary: Strange things wash up out of the lake near Rilla’s hut, on occasion. But this monster… this monster is certainly the strangest.

Chapter Summary: A confrontation, of sorts.

Chapter Notes: This chapter took a long time, huh? I'd say I'm sorry but I don't want to make my friends sad by being overly critical of myself. It's rough right now, not gonna lie. We're all doing our best. I hope this chapter will do at least a little bit to make up a little bit of softness. Be safe. I love you.

~

On the balcony outside his workshop, Arum draws his claws through the air, plucking invisible threads, his intent aligning with that of his Keep to play the swamp beneath them like a harp.

Unweaving the new border surrounding his home is not a difficult task. In fact, it is of an appropriate delicacy that Arum can utilize it as a sort of test, as a way to measure how much he has fallen out of practice.

The boundary softens slowly beneath them, each branch and vine relaxing, relenting, returning to its former growth, and Arum can feel the Keep relaxing as well, as the reality of Arum's homecoming settles within them both.

When they have managed perhaps a third of the border, the Keep tugs at the edges of his mind, and Arum could argue, perhaps, could try to push the Keep to continue the work for a little while longer-

But he is tired, in truth. The journey, the quickened healing, the- the depth of emotion he felt to be reunited with his Keep, all have left him feeling shaky and faded. The borders have been like this for some time now, he reasons. He need not rush.

Besides, he thinks, his lip curling wryly, Amaryllis would surely give him that narrowed-eye look if she knew he tried to push himself so soon after coming home. He cannot risk the force of her stubbornness combining with that of the Keep. Arum buries a laugh at the thought, sighs instead, and steps back in from the balcony to his workshop.

The Keep sings softly as he reaches to pull down a familiar set of knives, as he straps the hilts on again, feeling them more as a talisman than a defense.

"I know," he murmurs, drawing his palms over the hilts by turns, sighing. "I would apologize, but-"

The Keep sings less softly, then. Arum laughs.

"Precisely. I did not think you would." He pauses, feeling the safety and familiarity surrounding him. "Keep," he says, very softly, and then he closes his eyes and tries to pour out the affection that is coiling within him, how deeply he missed his Keep, how warm and relieved his love. It is easier, this way, to let the Keep know how he feels. Words- between the two of them words do not always feel right. He is the Keep's Lord, its Creation, and he may brush their minds together as easily as reaching out to take a hand. He knows his Keep can feel it, his pulse of love, and he feels it brighten before he is twined again in vines, before the rush of love and contentment the Keep sends him in return nearly folds his legs with its fierceness.

It sings, closer to a lullaby than a message, cradling him close, and Arum pretends not to rub his eyes again, allowing himself to be held for a minute or so more before he squeezes one of the vines around him, silently signaling to be let back down.

"Yes, well," he mutters, tail flicking as the Keep gives a vague hum. "There is still much to be done, I imagine. Bring me down to the kitchens; I expect they will be hungry soon."

The Keep pauses, then, and lilts an alternative.

He chokes a laugh. "Oh, fine. Do as you will, then. I expect they will be grateful, anyway." He tilts his head, worrying the edge of his mended cape in one hand as the Keep hums an affirmative, slowly coiling a different doorway out of the floor. "I- yes. If they are waiting, then. Go ahead."

The Keep lets him out into the greenhouse, drifting its attention away to prepare a proper meal for its Lord and his guests, and Arum-

Arum sees them, Amaryllis and Damien seated close together on the mossy bark of a fallen tree, their hands clasped together in their laps, their heads ducked close together as they murmur something unknowable to each other, and when Amaryllis' jaw clenches, Damien lifts a hand, cups her cheek, and then gently brushes an errant curl back behind her ear as her expression softens again.

Arum's own hands tremble, but he shakes his head hard, ensuring that his footsteps are too loud to miss, even for their limited human hearing as he forces himself to approach.

The both of them startle as they hear him, leaning back to watch him, though they do not untangle their hands.

"I hope you have been amusing yourselves well enough in my absence," he says, feigning mildness, but his attempt at levity does not seem to work. Amaryllis glances to Damien, something silent passing between them before she stands, Damien standing a moment later.

"Arum," Amaryllis begins, gently, and Arum's scales shiver with nerves automatically. Her tone is… serious, which is both unusual and concerning.

He forces himself not to flinch in a visible way as he meets her eyes, noting the gentle curve of her frown, the tension in the way she is still holding one of Sir Damien's hands, and he narrows his eyes in concern, ducking his head slightly. "What… what is it, Amaryllis?"

He can feel it already. They've decided to leave tonight. Decided that staying in a monster's den is too much. He should have expected-

"I have a- a question, actually," she says, and then she bites her lip. "And I need to know- I wanna know that you're gonna be- that you'll answer honestly."

"What call would I have to lie to you?" Arum says, more surprised than insulted. "You have already seen me at my lowest, Amaryllis." He pauses, then snorts. "And Sir Damien has rather helpfully pointed out that he is perfectly able to discern when I attempt deception."

Damien's lip turns into a wry sort of frown, but he does not interrupt. Clearly, it is Amaryllis leading this charge. She worries her lip between her blunt white teeth for a moment, her frame radiating strange tension. More concerning still. He is unsure if he has ever seen Amaryllis display this sort of- nervousness, before.

"Well?" Arum says when the pause draws long. "Ask, doctor. You won't get your answer in silence, I can assure you of that. I have many talents, but reading human minds is not among them."

"How do you- feel about me," she blurts, her tone going breathless and weak on the latter half, and Arum chokes on his own breath in surprise.

"Wh-what?"

"I know we said- we talked about what happens after. And about trust and about- about we and- and how we're going to miss each other, but- but I still don't know if…" she sucks in a breath, wincing and glancing away, and Arum sees Sir Damien's hand squeeze her own, and after a moment her shoulders settle slightly from their tension, and she meets his terrified eyes again. "I don't know if you feel like I do. Mind reading isn't in my wheelhouse either, Arum, and- and I just want to know. Before we- before we leave. I need to know if we feel the same way about each other, or if-"

"Amaryllis, I- don't be absurd." Arum can feel himself panicking, can feel a distant buzz of confusion from the Keep as it feels his spiking distress, and he skips back an awkward half step as Amaryllis reaches a hand towards him. "You know that I am- am impossibly grateful for all you've done-"

She winces at that, too. She draws her hand back to cover her mouth for a moment, and then she shakes her head. "Is that- is it just that you feel- grateful? Just- still the same way it was when you tried to leave that last time- just- thank you for services rendered, such as they were? Is that all that it is? Is that all that you feel about me?"

Arum looks away. "I think you know perfectly well that that is not even remotely the extent of- of-" he breaks off, not knowing any safe way to complete that thought. "I think you know."

"That's-" her face splits into something that is not a smile, if only because of the way her eyes are wide and strange and sad. "I don't know, Arum. That's kind of the whole problem. I need to know how you feel about me because if I don't know then I can't do anything about it."

Arum goes still, panic easing into something calmer, more cruel.

"Do anything about it," he echoes. "You feel you would need to do something about it, were our feelings misaligned? If I do not feel as you hope I do? If I have- overstepped, if the depth of my emotion has infringed on his claim?"

Amaryllis blinks, and then she glances where Arum has pointed, towards a Damien who appears equally puzzled by Arum's words. "Wait, what?"

"Have no fear, little human," Arum growls, his tail coiling behind him in a threat. "I have no misapprehensions about what we are. I have no delusions about what has passed between us. A kindness and a mercy, both, but nothing more."

"What?" she says again, and then she releases Sir Damien's hand and tries, again, to step closer. "Wait, no, that's not-"

Arum snarls, and Rilla pauses, her hand outstretched in the air between them.

"I will be forever indebted to you, Amaryllis of Exile," he says, forcing his voice low and steady. "Indebted to your knight as well, as infuriating as that detail remains. But I will not be mocked in my own home. You have shown me kindness and mercy beyond what I deserve, certainly, but that does not free you to treat me cruelly in turn."

"Cruel-"

"In the morning, the both of you will leave, and if the Universe is kind we will never need see each other again. Do you not think it cruel, then, to draw that grief out? To force our focus upon it?"

"But if we just talk about it, we might not n-"

"I know I have made myself a fool," Arum spits, and then- he wilts, his shoulders sagging. "I would do so again, I think. But I will not abide you holding my foolishness to the light."

"Arum-"

He turns, the softness in her eyes too utterly unbearable. "I am… I am tired, Amaryllis. The Keep will bring the both of you food in short time. When you are tired, ask for a place to rest and it will provide one. In the morning it will open a way back to the edge of the swamp. Farewell."

"No- wait," Amaryllis says behind him, her tone sharp, almost scared. "No. Wait- I am not saying goodbye to you yet-"

"Keep," Arum says, voice flat and toneless. "Back to the workshop. Now."

There is a pause before the Keep obeys, but it is short. Arum relents to the pain behind his ribcage only barely, only enough to glance over his shoulder one more time. Amaryllis looks caught between misery and fury, looks half tempted to bolt after him, and Sir Damien- Sir Damien looks stiff, unreadable.

"Farewell," he says again, more quietly, and then he turns away.

He is only a step from the doorway when Sir Damien's voice rings out behind him.

"Lord Arum!"

Arum clenches his teeth. He should ignore the knight entirely. He has said his goodbyes. He has closed this chapter with his own hands. He has reshelved the book.

"Lord Arum, I demand you face me, now. I will not condone so cowardly a retreat."

Arum spins on his heel, exhaling a sharp shocked laugh. "Cowardly - how you dare is beyond-

"I see you are armed, now, Lord Arum," Damien says, his voice rather carefully even. "Armed, and healed, and there is still a duel you owe me. I would see that challenge fulfilled."

"The duel?" Arum wrinkles his snout, bares his teeth. "I should laugh. I am an artist with my blades, but even I could not best an archer with weapons meant for closer quarters than these."

"I still carry the weapon you sharpened for me; I imagine it should prove a reasonable match to your own steel. I would see our duel fulfilled," he says again, "blade to blade."

Arum scoffs. "A meager tool you use, but it would suffice. Do you wish to die, knight? Or have you finally remembered your duty?"

"You will you duel me, then?" Damien asks, insistent, ignoring Arum's questions.

"Oh," Arum says, something between a snarl and a bitter laugh in his tone. "Oh, so now the little honeysuckle means to kill me? Now you are amenable to-"

"I have no intentions of the sort," Damien says smoothly. "But you said yourself that you did not prefer to leave matters unsettled, and this matter remains so, between us. I believe you need be reminded of that."

"Ha," Arum snarls. "Unsettled. It would not be unsettled if you did your duty-"

"You conceded to my skill in wordplay, friend lizard," Damien says, his cheeks dark and his smile soft. "I am curious to see who will triumph in swordplay."

Arum narrows his eyes, and it is some combination of reckless despair and curiosity that compels him to draw his own blade, at last, in response.

"Very well, little fool. Keep," Arum snarls, though his eyes are still fixed on Damien. "Close the door, and then back as you were. I command that you do not interfere. This duel will be mine and mine alone, no matter which fate the Universe intends for me."

"Thank you," Damien says as the Keep closes the way again with visible reluctance, and Arum growls low, tail coiling as he brandishes the blade.

"Okay this is stupid," Amaryllis says, stern though her voice is still wavering, but Damien is smiling now, and he lifts a hand in her direction.

"Trust, my love. I will beg you to trust me. You know my heart, do you not?"

Rilla presses her lips together tight, her eyes meeting Damien's for a long, torturous moment, and then she gives a small grim smile and nods. "I do."

"How precious," Arum drawls, dancing his knife between his fingers. "You wanted this duel, Damien. Now fight me."

"As you say, Lord Arum," Damien says, closing his eyes for a with an utterly strange smile. "I am Tranquil, and I am ready. Face me as you will."

Arum coils, tense, for a long moment, feeling out Damien's steady, waiting stance, but the knight is more patient than he. Arum strikes first, a wild lunge meant to unsettle Damien's footing, but Damien in unmoved as their blades clash, and then he deftly steps sideways as Arum lunges again.

"A fine opening," the knight says mildly, as if they were discussing something so simple as the day's meal. "I was correct to think that your reverence for the blade would translate to a certain deftness with this sort of comba-"

Arum lashes out, interrupting with a snarl, but Damien's smile flashes brighter as he parries.

"Even in this you lilt, little songbird?" Arum complains. He is already beginning to feel warm, breathless- he has not exerted himself in this way in ages. Even with his body healing properly under the Keep's influence, Arum is stretching muscles he has not had cause to use in quite some time.

Arum struggles not to find the feeling exhilarating.

"I have a talent for prattling, Lord Arum, as I have been told again and again." Damien grins wide, flicking his wrist out to clash against Arum's next strike. "If you compel me to silence it will be a feat indeed."

"We shall see, little knight."

"So we shall," Damien murmurs, and they are- close, but Arum shoves and Damien spins away, stance defensive to await the next attack. "There is another matter still unsettled, however, more important than my own lilting tongue."

Arum struggles not to roll his eyes. "It is always something with you creatures, isn't it?"

"You failed to answer Rilla's question. Perhaps you thought your deflection sufficient-" he pauses to leap as Arum strikes with his tail, his footwork elegant enough to be repurposed for a dance. "Sufficient," he continues, "to distract from that fact, but I would have you answer, before you give your farewells."

"They have already been given, knight-"

"And yet," Damien says. His cheeks are dark, but Arum can hear that his breaths are still steady. He has barely begun to exert himself. "Prematurely removing yourself from us will not change how you feel, Lord Arum. Nor will it change how we feel."

Arum manages not to stumble, but only barely. He flicks his blade up just in time to keep the knight from pinning him, ducking low and rolling beneath Damien's arm. "I am- perfectly aware that I am incapable of changing your feelings, knight," he snarls, keeping low and defensive as Damien circles him.

Damien's expression softens, oddly. "You cannot change how we feel now," he says. "I am unsure if you understand, however, the degree to which you already have."

Arum leaps, nearly catching Damien's arm with the tip of his blade, but the knight sidesteps with a sliver of space between his skin and the edge.

"Arum, you cannot-"

Arum snarls, striking before Damien fully manages his footing again, but he cannot seem to unbalance the knight.

"Arum, you cannot conceal how you look at her, and I know you must- you must be able to see how she looks at you-"

Arum's scales shiver with a flash of cold, these words more than the risk to his life filling him with terror. "I see," he spits, tail thrashing and frill flared. "Of course. Insulted on behalf of your lover, of course, I remember- I remember quite early on I implied your Amaryllis might have grown some ill-placed fondness for me and you nearly killed me for that alone. Of course this- yes. Little knight, you must, of course, defend your Rilla's honor against so foul a beast as I."

Damien laughs, bright and oddly keening as he dodges another blow. "I should hate to contradict a Lord, but I am afraid you are as far from the mark as you could hope to be. She is radiant, Rilla is light and love herself, she is brilliance and glory and she is made to be adored, of course you would feel that glow, of course you would." He smiles, shocking and full of heat, and Arum hates himself for the way his ribs seem to clench around his heart like sharp cold fingers. "And you, Lord Arum, you-"

"And I am a monster," Arum hisses, and his next strike is sloppy with despair, and the edge of Damien's blade catches against the curved base of his own, and the knight flicks his wrist so deftly, so easily-

The knife flies aside, gleaming steel painting the air in flashes before it thuds to rest on the mossy floor of the greenhouse, and the blade Sir Damien wields is cool and close against Arum's throat in the same instant.

They pant, for a long moment, and Damien is so close that Arum can nearly taste the heat of him, his gentle eyes bright and focused on Arum's own.

"Well?" he breathes after the pause has drawn long. "Do it, then."

"Do you still believe, truly, that I have any desire to harm you?" Damien says, his tone lilting like song, and Arum's heart clenches again.

"Your knife certainly seems to say so," he growls.

"I told you, Arum. I only wished to remind you. Once, yes, I swore I would slay you, when we finally dueled. This I admit. But I am not the same man I was, so short a time ago."

Arum laughs, choking and desperate, the steel still tickling his neck.

"I have won this duel," Damien says gently. "I would have you answer me honestly, now."

Arum swallows, clenches his teeth. "Ask, then. Ask, and be done with it."

"Do you-" Damien pauses, a layer of his smooth confidence shifting aside, a hint of nerves showing through. "Would you- want us to stay? If we could, if- if we were not pressed by responsibility, would you have us stay?"

Arum would have expected nearly any other question, before the one Sir Damien has posed. He expected one particular question, first. He cannot remember how to breathe, for a moment, and the nervous tilt to Damien's smile makes him wish to lean forward, despite the knife, and-

And Arum's lips are parted, but there are no words upon his tongue.

Damien waits, though. In his periphery, Arum can see Amaryllis waiting as well, a hand pressed to her mouth.

"If-" Arum pauses, swallows, flicks his tongue. "If it were possible. If you could."

Damien's eyes are so bright they are nearly hypnotic, and his own lips are parted, now, though he does not interrupt.

"I only wish to see you gone," Arum admits, helpless and hopeless and keening, "because it feels like breaking again, to know you cannot stay. The faster the break-" he chokes, and looks away, and he knows his voice is breaking too, "the cleaner it will be."

"If we offered you anything you desired from us, what would you ask?" Damien asks, his voice low and steady, though Arum can feel his heart still thudding hard.

"I- I have answered one question already, honeysuckle, I do not-"

"You conceded to me in two contests, Lord Arum. I believe two questions is a fair exchange."

Arum snorts. "Fair-"

"What would you ask of us," Damien repeats, firm, "if we offered to grant you anything that was in our power to give?"

Arum presses his lips together tight, his throat thick and his eyes hot. "Anything?" he asks, his voice catching ragged, snarling, monstrous, but Damien only smiles even more gently.

"Anything."

"If… if I could have anything," Arum whispers, claws clenching, and then he closes his eyes. His pride is such a small thing to lose, in the end. "A place at your table," he says, soft and full of too much undeniable longing. "A place for me, seated at your sides, for as long as you would have me."

Damien's grip loosens, and when Arum blinks his eyes back open Damien's own eyes are wide and shocked, his cheeks darkening as his heart stumbles. Arum can hear that heart, can hear the way Damien swallows, then, as well.

"Oh," Damien says, too soft. "Oh, Saint Damien, your Tranquility, now when most I need-" he inhales, exhales with a smile, and then he drops the knife away from Arum's throat.

"Wh-what are you-"

Damien holds the blade out, hilt first, and presses it into Arum's palm.

"There is one more question before you," Damien murmurs as Arum's fingers curl around the metal, and though he is no longer pinning the monster against the trunk of the tree behind him, the poet is still close, is still crowding Arum with his heat and his scent and the rhythm of his heart. "I would hear your answer under no duress, if you choose to do so."

Damien seems so utterly unafraid of the blade that Arum now holds, the gleaming, newly sharpened edge that he holds close against Damien's collarbone. He is looking up into Arum's eyes, something in his expression nearly shy, and Arum-

Arum-

Arum drops his hand, slipping the knife back into the sheath at Sir Damien's hip. Damien's breath catches again, his dark cheeks going even darker, but Arum can only spare a hint of attention to that while he steels himself, while he clenches his teeth and inhales and lifts his head to look over Sir Damien's shoulder, to see Amaryllis where she stands.

Amaryllis stares both of them, her dark eyes wide, her hands clasped over her mouth, and-

Arum is not brave. He has never been. But Arum remembers every single time this creature before him has reached out her hand to him despite every reason not to.

... and Arum thinks that perhaps he can pretend to share even an ounce of the bravery she has shown him.

"I love you," he says, and there is a lightness that comes as the syllables escape him, a freedom that makes him feel reckless, and as Amaryllis' stares at him with something like awe shining on her face, he thinks he might have begun to smile. "I have for some time, now," he murmurs. "I love you, and meeting eyes with death was a small price to pay for the honor of knowing you."

Arum is certain he is smiling, now. He is just as certain that there are tears in his eyes.

He manages to pull his gaze from Amaryllis', after a moment, with no small degree of effort. "And you, little songbird," he says, glancing down, "as for you-"

Arum is interrupted.

Sir Damien's lips press to his own, muffling him to a humming gasp, and the poet's hands are upon him, one on his cheek and the other twisting in his cape, pulling him down. It arcs through him like magic, like- like poetry. Certain lines of which he cannot help but remember, just now.

"I love you," Damien breathes against him when he breaks the kiss, soft and sure as birdsong.

"Damien," Arum says, too shocked to say anything else, and the shyness slips back into Damien's eyes again.

"I understand if our former conflicts are- too much to move beyond, for you, if you do not feel about me as you do about Rilla, if-"

Arum pulls Damien closer, arms wrapping snug around him, slipping the claws of one hand into the poet's hair now that he can do away with pretense, now that he no longer needs to bury that temptation. Damien gasps against his mouth, and on instinct Arum catches his bottom lip with his teeth, careful and testing. "Ridiculous- ridiculous little bird-" he presses his lips against Damien's again, and his own words- they are insufficient. "So ascended I," he growls, pulling Damien closer, closer, "alight- and burning-"

Damien gasps again when he recognizes his own verse, something like a sob in his voice. "Arum-"

"I love you, honeysuckle," Arum whispers, and Damien chokes, folding against him, allowing Arum to hold him.

Just to hold him. So simple, and so much, all at once. Damien's hair is soft against the scales of Arum's palm, as soft as Arum imagined that it would be.

"Saints," Rilla breathes, and Arum blinks, glancing towards her again as she presses a hand against her chest and shakes her head. "I swear the two of you are trying to kill me."

"Amaryllis," he says softly, but he cannot think what to say beyond that.

She comes closer, her lip pulling like she's burying a laugh as Arum holds Damien more snugly against his chest, and when she is close enough he reaches out and she- she smiles wider, cupping his cheek and slotting herself in beside the poet.

"Amaryllis," he murmurs again, and she wraps her other arm around Damien, the palm on Arum's cheek slipping further to cup the back of his skull, making him shiver, making his chest rumble deeper.

"I love you too," she says, and Arum realizes- he realizes that he knew, already. Somewhere deep and hidden, somewhere he did not allow himself to look, before. "Can I kiss you?"

Arum chokes on a laugh. "I- of course you- ridiculous, Amaryllis-"

She rolls her eyes, and as the laugh bubbles from her lips he leans down, nuzzling against her lips and reveling in the brightness of her mirth.

"I love you," he says again, his scales tickling Amaryllis' skin, his hands holding Damien close. "I love you." He pauses, holds them both even closer for a moment. "I… I do not know what we are meant to do. What this will mean, for all of us-"

"Big questions, Arum," Amaryllis says gently. "Good questions, too, and we're gonna have to talk about them sooner rather than later, I think, but-" she wets her lips, giving him a cautious sort of smile. "But maybe that can wait until tomorrow? I- I just kind of- I just want to be like this, for a little while. Okay?"

Okay, as if he would possibly object. There is no possible way for him to hold her closer. Instead he presses his face into her neck, burying himself in the softness of her skin. "Of course," he whispers there. "It will keep, Amaryllis."

"It will keep," Damien echoes in his arms, and then his voice goes a little higher, a little more frightened as he fists his hands in Arum's cape. "I apologize for- I am sorry to have drawn upon you, I only-"

"Thank you," Arum says, before Damien can lose himself to the panic, "for making me stay."

Arum feels the tug in his mind only a moment before the Keep sings, bemused and uncertain, and and Arum reluctantly loosens his grip on the humans.

"Ah," he says. "Right. Er- I don't suppose… the pair of you are hungry?"

Amaryllis laughs, and Arum struggles against the desire to press their mouths together again. "Yeah, actually. Long, long day." She shakes her head as they disentangle from the embrace, still smiling, and then she- reaches out again, and tangles her fingers together with his own. Damien smiles, and on his other side the poet echoes her, slipping his warm palm against Arum's, and Arum's hands flex, his chest rumbling with something like joy. "Lead the way, then."

~

Dining together is familiar and strange and wonderful, all at once. He has shared so many meals with the both of them already, but never at this table, never with his Keep humming its additions to their conversation. Never with Amaryllis leaning against his side, the edges of the space between them softened to nothing at all. Never with Damien refusing to release his gentle grip on one of his hands for the entirety of the meal, his expression soft and adoring, his lips tumbling with new poetry, hopeful and loving verse. Never with the knowledge that he can reach for them, when he wishes to.

He spends most of the meal wishing to.

They do not seem to mind.

~

Eventually the meal is done, the conversation dripping off to quiet contentment. One human leans on each of Arum's shoulders, speaking slow and drowsy, Amaryllis playing with his hand, pressing the pads of her fingers against his palm, turning his wrist in her hands with fond curiosity as Damien murmurs something rhythmic and quiet against Arum's neck between kisses that are so gentle they make his scales feel electric. Eventually Rilla's grip upon him goes slack, her breaths evening out, and honeysuckle follows not long after.

When they have drifted into unconsciousness still beside the table, the Keep reaches out with vines, draping a blanket it has pulled from Arum's bedroom around all three of them, tucking it around their shoulders and then leaving soft new runners twining around Arum's shoulders, his horns, adding to the embrace.

Arum has never felt quite so warm, before. He has never felt quite so- so certain, so fierce.

He loves his Keep. He would go to war for it. He would fight and scrape and claw his way through anything for the sake of his home, his counterpart. He would die for the Keep. He would.

He would die for the creatures in his arms, now, too.

He shifts very slightly, brushing the backs of his knuckles down Amaryllis' arm, feeling Damien's heart beating soft against the hand that is pinned between his chest and Arum's side.

Yes. He would die for them.

But… Amaryllis wants him to live. She and Damien both. They want him to live. They want- they want more from him than that, even. They-

He cannot think it. His mind shies from it. He is not unsure, not at all, he knows, now, how they feel, but- it seems too fragile a thing, still. Too new and delicate to bear the scrutiny of his mind. He sets their words aside for the moment. He refocuses. They want him to live; that is enough. They, and the Keep, as well. It wishes him alive, it loves him, it is not mere duty that binds them.

“The Senate thinks I am replaceable,” he whispers above the sleeping humans, his memory of the attack still bright in his mind as he shares it with the Keep. The way the representative had shrugged and grinned with sharp white fangs and implied they had found someone better, to make use of the Hermit. “They think I am disposable.” The bright pain of the attack from behind, the further pain and rage that followed during his frantic attempt to defend himself, the bittersweet satisfaction of lifting the Hermit towards the light, the blow that cracked his horn and made his head spin, the choice in less than a breath of further claws or the fall, the water-

Not like his swamp. Not the familiar, still, life-filled water of his home. Water rushing and cool, the bite of sharp rocks until he whited out to almost blissful nothing for immeasurable time, and then the strange, strange stillness that came before the mud, before warm hands and voice and-

Amaryllis’ face, in the darkness. All concern and determination, framed by hair that looked as if the night sky were pouring down around her, before he lost himself to blissful nothing again.

The rest of it the Keep will learn in time. It knows the most important part, now. Arum feels the heat of affection bloom through his counterpart, sees the curling growth of small sprigs of white and orange flowers the Keep is blooming above his doctor.

“They think they can use me and discard me and I will simply die,” Arum murmurs. “Perhaps. Perhaps I may have simply accepted that, once. Perhaps.”

The Keep's vines around his shoulders tighten, secure, and when it sings of comfort and home and life life life, Arum feels it in his mind and in his bones.

“They were wrong,” Arum says, quite simply. “On all accounts.” He pauses, inhaling, feeling the strength he has been missing slowly returning to him, the gentle care of his doctor given new expediency by his home. “We will live, and we will not be used again.”

[->]

[yoshiscribbles]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Star Wars: Clone Wars (2003) - All Media Types Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: CC-5052 | Bly & Aayla Secura Characters: CC-5052 | Bly, Aayla Secura Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Office, Despite the amount of coffee this is not actually a coffeeshop au Summary:

Bly expected many things of his new job. Learning how to make different types of coffee wasn't one of them.

This was written for @blackkatmagic, for a 30-minute gift exchange on her discord server. The elements to include were Aayla Secura, bloom, and coffee. Fic under the cut, and hope you enjoy!

Aayla Secura was a confusing woman.

It hadn’t hit Bly immediately when he’d begun working at Jedi Inc. After all, his boss was Quinlan Vos and Secura was technically in a different division altogether for all that she shared an office with him and the rest of his coworkers. He couldn’t feel mad about her presence though. For all that he’d technically been assigned a mentor of sorts in order to help him acclimate to his new work environment, he hadn’t caught their name the first time they’d been introduced and hadn’t managed to find them again ever since. Secura had ended up filling that role despite her initially confusing attitude.

It was technically a coincidence that had them interacting at all. She’d stormed into the near-empty office one day (Bly having been ridiculously early because his clock had confused the date and decided it was daylight saving time), and heaved a heavy sigh at the sight of the office’s still broken coffee machine. Now, Bly was very familiar with the particular kind of despair that arose when one was in need of a fix of coffee and faced with its dreadful absence. His eyes drifted guiltily to the two thermos full of coffee he’d prepared that morning, knowing that he'd need them to last him through the day.

After a moment of silence, he cleared his throat to catch her attention, and instinctively straightened his posture when she turned her gaze toward him.

“I have enough coffee for two if you’d like.” He gestured awkwardly to his own thermos and belatedly pondered the awkwardness of her borrowing one for the rest of the day.

He wasn’t sure at the time whether it was her desperate need for a stimulant of some kind or simply her base personality that let her accept the offer without further consideration. Suffice to say that Bly was the first surprised when Secura approached his desk and leaned over his computer monitor to grab a thermos before bringing it to her mouth and draining a sizeable quantity in one long gulp.

Bly was still staring when she put the thermos back with a contemplative expression on her face. “Thank you,” she said sincerely, before turning to head to her own office. “It’s too bitter however.”

That was the extent of their first conversation, and Bly couldn’t for the life of him understand what had possessed him to take her words to heart. She was waiting at his desk the next time he saw her, this time with a pot full of dirt.

She smiled widely when she saw him, and Bly answered in kind for all that he knew his own had to hold a confused tinge to it. “Thanks again for the coffee,” she said as she thrust the pot toward him. “And here’s a little something extra to welcome you to the team.”

And she was off again before Bly mustered the wits to thank her for what would become the first addition to his desk. Staring at it closer, he could see that a little green sprout was visible, and would surely grow if he took good care of it. As far as welcoming gifts went it was a little bit unusual, but Bly felt a fond smile grow on his face. He had several plants at home and it wouldn’t be too hard to make sure this one flourished properly.

He kept bringing his two thermos of coffee, and Secura kept stealing a gulp of one of them every time she swung by his desk. Her comments never changed much, and Bly wouldn’t be himself if he let that stand without trying to improve. She’d given him a plant after all, the least he could do was make better coffee.

He wasn’t the only one entertained by his constant attempts to find a coffee she’d like the taste of.

“Hm, dark chocolate is good, but this one is a bit too bitter to go in coffee,” she’d said the first time he attempted to make a moka.

“Did you put caramel in this? I can barely feel it.”

“Oh, whipped cream! This one isn’t sweet enough however.”

As the months passed and his little sprout grew into the beginning of a flowerbud, so did his deskmate’s, Rex, enthusiasm for each critique and bewilderment at the entire situation.

“You know you can ask her to stop stealing your coffee, right? I don’t think they can fire you for not making a coffee she’d like, especially since she’s not even your boss.”

Bly understood the logic of the argument, but at this point it was too late to give up.

“You don’t understand,” he told Rex even as he mentally reviewed his past experiences to try and devise a mix Secura would finally approve of. “It’s a matter of honor.”

He also felt irrationally afraid of disappointing her.

He didn’t how many kind of coffees he’d ended up making that fateful day. He’d gotten used to the way Secura gulped down a mouthful before going on her way, but this time she didn’t stop at one. Bly stared as she took another mouthful, then another as he desperately tried to remember what he’d put in the coffee this time. Was it caramel? Milk? Maybe vanilla?

He didn’t know what to call the sensation in his chest when she looked at him with a beaming grin. “Perfect,” she sighed, and then curled both her hands around the thermos like it was the only thing keeping her warm. This time, she didn’t put the thermos back before she left. “Meet me after work and I might give it back!”

His lips spread into surprised smile of his own. "I will!" he answered in kind.

When he looked back at the plant on his desk, the first flower was blooming.

[thenocturnalmushroom]

Time to Heal - AshEiji (Chapter One)

Chapters: 6/? Fandom: Banana Fish Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Ash Lynx/Okumura Eiji Characters: Ash Lynx, Okumura Eiji Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Fluff, Lots of fluff, Angst/Comfort, Lots of comfort, Healing, Mentions of past child abuse, Happy Ending 

Read on AO3

“Is this city even on the map?”, Ash couldn’t help but ask after what seemed like long hours looking at the same empty landscape; dirt road and wild grass was all he could see passing by the window of the car, except for one lost cow or another.

Ash's entire life had happened among the skyscrapers of New York, and he had never imagined that it would ever change - not until a month ago. It wasn’t like he had anything left in the Big Apple; anything but bad memories and a past he'd like to erase from his mind. Even so, New York had been his whole world for seventeen years, and the prospect of being confined to a small town in the middle of nowhere made him feel a sort of reverse claustrophobia; the ridiculously high and imposing buildings of Manhattan added to the sea of people that flowed daily through the lively streets of his home island made him feel grounded to something solid and real. Without that to tie him to the world, the boy was afraid to float away and get lost forever in the immensity of the endless sky.

“Don’t be silly, kiddo! It’s obvious that Greenriver is on the map!”, Max laughed for a moment, but soon he seemed not to be so sure about that. “I mean… It must be there.”

Ash looked at the man next to him with a discreet side glance; he still didn’t know what to think about Max Glenreed. The boy had seen him only twice in his life, and now he was going to live with the man’s family, which he knew almost nothing about. Max seemed to be a little awkward and a bit distracted, as if he always have too much in his mind to think about, but he was kind enough to welcome the stepson of his deceased younger sister into his house - maybe being kindhearted and compassionate would be part of their DNA. Ash felt a pang in his chest at the thought, like a cold needle piercing his heart.

No, the boy refused to let those memories emerge to the surface of his mind, pushing them back to the bottom of the hole where he had tried to chain them and hide them from his feelings. Not here, not now, he begged to his own mind, stirring nervously on the hem of his black sports wristbands.

To Ash, having to deal with those feelings was like having a giant snake wrapped around his body, paralyzing him and choking him, while it piercing his skin with its fangs, letting its poison penetrate his veins, burning the life that there was within him until it turned everything into ashes.

**

Ash must have dozed off, because when he opened his eyes again, the empty landscape that had accompanied him for the last few hours had finally been replaced by some low builds and a few dozen human beings, strolling around, enjoying the sunny day. They had finally arrived at Greenriver city, and the setting was as disappointing as the New Yorker boy had imagined; Ash felt more as if he was in a movie set or a "boring small city" theme park than in a real city. He had the weird feeling that if he looked behind the buildings he would find out that they were no more than false facades made of wood and cardboard.

Deep in his heart, the boy knew he should be grateful for start a new life in a place as quiet as that one, away from all the hecticness and chaos of his hometown. After everything he had passed through in the last years, Ash felt he should crave some peace and security, but it seemed so far away from the reality he was used to that it made him feel uncomfortable, as if something essential was missing. It was as if he had left the chaos behind, but the chaos had not left him.

In a few minutes, after crossing a few streets through the residential neighborhood, Max's car finally parked in front of a house painted with a so faded blue that it could be mistaken by white for a less attentive person. The Glenreed family house wasn’t the biggest nor the smallest house on that street; it seemed to be the perfect size to comfortably accommodate a family of three on its two floors and little more than half a dozen modestly sized rooms. Ash couldn’t help but wonder if he would be able to fit in there, if his presence there wouldn’t just disturb the pacific life of that family’s members.

“Be welcomed to your new home, Ash!”, Max's words brought the boy back from his thoughts only to leave him lost in front of its kindness, for the strangeness of having such warm words being addressed to him - even more in a so sincerely and genuinely way – as well as for him didn’t know how to respond to them. Would one thank you be enough? Ash couldn’t tell, but since nothing better came to his mind, it was what he answered in an awkward murmur.

Since he didn’t have many belongs, getting Ash’s luggage out of the car didn’t take more than a half minute. Everything that was really important to the boy fitted into his old shabby backpack; the other suitcase he had brought with him had just a few clothes and things of no value from his old house inside it, things that Max had practically forced him to bring with him - the man had insisted that if he didn’t do it, he would regret it one day. Ash just gave up trying to argue, but he insisted on not touching that suitcase; he had plans to find a good hiding place for that thing and keep it out of his sight.

Max called for his wife as he passed through the door, pushing Ash's suitcase into the house, not bothering to look back. Ash felt grateful for that, for having no one to witness his moment of hesitation in taking the first step into the house that would be his home for only-God-knows how long. The boy allowed himself to take a deep breath before crossing the front door.

Ash had about half a second to let his eyes wander through the interior of the first floor before the figure of a tall woman with long blond hair tied in a messy ponytail came up from the back of the house, catching his attention.

“Hello, Ash!”, the woman smiled friendly, approaching to the newcomers. She wore a slightly dirty gardening apron with a pair of gloves hanging from the front pocket, as if she had begun to work with the land just before they appeared and hindered her in her task. “I’m Jessica, Max’s wife. It’s so nice to finally meet you.”, she made a small movement to stretch her hand out to greet Ash, but she stopped herself in the middle of the gesture, looking a little embarrassed. Max must have warned her about his discomfort at being touched. “Please, make yourself at home. This house is also yours from now on.”

“Thanks.”, his voice came out small and a bit unsteady, not knowing how to respond to gentle words once again. He blamed the lack of custom for that.

“Where’s Michael?”, Max asked to his wife, making Ash feel relieved for not being the focus of the conversation, even only for a brief moment.

“He went to John's house, but he must be back soon. I told him to come back early to welcome Ash.”, and, once again, the eyes of both were on the boy. Although their gazes were affable, Ash wished he wasn’t their target. “You must be exhausted from the trip, aren’t you?”, the boy nodded, but the truth was he didn’t feel so tired; he just wanted to have an excuse to have a few moments alone. “Why don’t you take a nap before dinner? Max will show you to your room.”

“I was about to do that.”, the man took Ash's suitcase one more time, heading for the back of the house. “This way.”

The former guest room, now Ash's room, was behind the last door in the narrow hallway at the side of the stairs, near to the first-floor bathroom and what appeared to be Max's office. The room was small and square like a box, containing only a single bed, a four-drawer chiffonier with a round mirror on top and a small desk in front of the window, with a view of the backyard. Ash could see through the butter-colored curtains the shiny of the sun reflecting on the surface of a small pool and a sort of shed in the end of the backyard.

“I know it's not that big, but... I hope you feel comfortable here.”, Ash could hear the silent apology in Max's voice. The man looked nervous, as if expecting a negative reaction from the boy.

Ash just shrugged, putting his backpack on the bed. “It's way better than a cupboard under the stairs.”

The boy didn't expect his silly attempt at making a joke would be effective, but it had Max letting out a good, loud laugh as result.

“Don’t worry, kiddo, the Glenreed family is more like the Weasley Family than the Dursleys.”, he assured him, forgetting for a moment about Ash’s issues of being touched and patting him on the back, making the boy shrink as an automatic response. “Oh, sorry!”, the man quickly pulled his hands away from him, a guilty expression on his face.

Ash shook his head, dismissing the apology. “So, can I have my own owl?”, the boy allowed a small, playful smile to reach his lips.

“If you’re talking about the plush ones, you can have as many as you want!”, Max laughed again, but more restrainedly this time, visibly watching himself out. Keeping a smile on his face, he pointed around the room and then to the boy in front of him, while he let out some more of his unending warm words: “This is your room, Ash. You can decorate it the way you want. If you want it, I can take you to the nearby town on the weekend to buy something to make this place look more like yours. They have a good furniture and decoration store there."

“This room is great.”, Ash affirmed and he was being honest. It had been a long time since the boy had stopped care about material things; a plain room like that was all what he could wanted.

Max's smile lingered on his face for a few seconds longer, before it start to fade away, making his lips taking the shape of a thin, stiff line. It was so weird to see him wearing such a serious expression that Ash couldn’t avoid the feeling of uneasiness that struck him as he faced it.

“If you want or need something, anything, please, don’t hesitate to tell us.”, both the face and tone of the man transmitted a mixture of concern and a hard determination - the same determination Ash had seen on his face the day he had declared that he was taking the boy's custody. “You’re part of this family now. Please, never forget it.”

Trying to swallow the hard lump that had formed into his throat, Ash just nodded, not trusting his own voice. Actually, he couldn’t trust any of the many feelings that were swirling inside his chest at that moment, seeming to be trying to force an exit out of the boy's body through his eyes. But he couldn’t let them out, not after he had promised not to shed any more tears for himself.

“Well…”, Max started to say as slowly as his expression started to softened again and the corner of his lips started to give life to a new smile. “I'll let you rest for a bit. The trip was long and, well, I’d like to rest a bit before dinner too.”

Making some effort, Ash managed to find some stability to his voice, at least enough to say a few words:

“See you later.”, and before Max closed the door, he added: “Thank you again. For everything.”

The man smiled the kindest smile to the boy. “No problem, kiddo.”, and then, he disappeared behind the closed door, but the feeling of welcomeness in his voice continued to hover in the air for a few more seconds.

Ash took a deep breath.

So, that was the beginning of his new life.

[adonis-koo]

Three’s a crowd

| 1 |

↳ Plot: (CEO AU) When your mom’s fairytale life begins to bleed over into your world you’re suddenly caught between two men and one big secret, what was supposed to be a relaxing trip soon begins to spiral out of control. All you wanted was a free vacation...

↳ Pairing: Jungkook/Reader/Jimin, Hoseok/Reader, Taehyung/Reader, (additional tags will be added through the story)

↳ Genre: Smut, angst, drama, angst with a happy ending

Word count: 7k

Previous | Next

Warning ⚠️ This fic touches on drug use, alcoholism and abuse. Please read with caution if any of these things are triggers for you 🖤

When people say they need to speak to you, often people instantly assume the worst. Work themselves up and get a nasty pit in their stomach and with shaky hands they’d nod while their entire life flashed before their eyes. You had done plenty of things in your life, but nothing to ever have warranted such a serious stare from your mother.

This however? You couldn’t have ever anticipated that this would be what she wanted to talk about. The situation being your mothers new perspective partner. You were relieved of course, but also a new sensation washed over you once the information sank in. It was almost as if a new sense of dread filled you. Dread of uncertainty, a new future you had never quite thought of before.

With tightly crossed legs you had a tense expression your face, attempting to smile but it wasn’t necessarily working, one might have easily sensed your defensive posture. You could see why she fell for him. He was soft spoken and charming. Charismatic and you didn’t even want to think about just how rich he was. He being Mr Park, the CEO of a large company apparently- who your mother just so happened to fall in love with.

This news- while happy for her also brought much inner confusion and insecurity within you. You were happy for her but you had never had a dad before. Not really, no one you could ever rely on atleast. You supposed that wasn’t the point though, you were already grown up and while the chance of Mr Park becoming your step father was strong it didn’t necessarily mean anything. 

Still the idea sat with you uncomfortably. All that aside you wanted to be happy for your mothers sake, she had been through so much hardship with your father that she deserved someone kind and sweet like Mr Park regardless of his social class.

With that in mind you couldn’t decline your mother when she said she wanted you to meet him, there was only one string attach. Said string being his son, your mother didn’t have enough time to brief you on him beside him being around your age. He was also late. Who was late to meeting their parents new partner? Apparently Mr Park must’ve felt the same as he flusteredly apologized after checking the time on his watch, “I’m terribly sorry on my sons behalf, he said his meeting was likely to go over time.”

“Oh no it’s fine!” Your mother instantly spoke with a dazzling smile and sparkling eyes before turning towards you, “We don’t have anywhere to be, right Y/n?”

Technically you did, you’d have to be at the ward by twelve that night, not to mention you also had to be at the bakery to open up shop tomorrow morning, regardless it meant you couldn’t be out all night. Attempting to push that to the back of your mind you mustered a weak smile, not wanting to ruin the nice atmosphere your mother had worked so hard to create, “Of course! I’m sure he couldn’t help it.”

Your words were semi honest, while you certainly weren’t a business women you supposed some things in meetings couldn’t be helped. There was a still a seed of doubt in your mind though, maybe he was dragging his feet just as much as you were about this. All bets aside it did clarify what you had expected. His son did in fact, work under company. Not that there was anything wrong with that, but you couldn’t help but feel a twinge of snideness, must’ve been nice having your daddy’s company to guarantee a good job for life.

Mr Park gave you a warm smile, one that made you feel momentarily guilty about your inner thoughts as he relaxed a little upon hearing your words, “You’re just as kind as your mother. I know its a little soon to ask but I was planning on taking a trip out to Dubai for business. I was wanting to take your mother along with me, but I’d like to ask if you could come as well.”

Your lips parted as your eyebrows shot up at the unexpected news while Mr Park added, “All expensive will be taken care of naturally. I want this to be a fun experience for you both- if you can come that is.”

Your mother looked giddy in her seat as she glanced at you, why did she have to be like this? You almost felt compelled now, seeing such an excited look on her face made you shift slightly whilst giving them both an awkward smile, “Well uh- I’d first have to ask when you’re going to see if my work would let me take time off.”

“Of course!” Mr Park beamed as if just remembering himself, nodding as he continued, “We’ll be departing by the end of next week, early Sunday morning. It’s just a week visit before we go home. One of my closest friends company is having their thirtieth anniversary there so we would be attending.”

It was a bit abrupt for a trip but seeing your mother so excited you could hardly find the nerve to say no even in your mind, “Well I’ll have to speak to my work about it but I hope I’ll be able to make it.” You gave a polite smile finally answering. And you were being honest, free trip to Dubai? Who would say no to that? But you worked two jobs and almost never had a moment to breath. Let alone for an entire week. But you promised to try and you never broke a promise.

“I apologize for my punctuality.”

A new voice had entered the conversation as you glanced up. This must’ve been Mr Park’s son, in fact, he was the spitting image of him, his black hair had been well groomed parting on the left side of his forehead.

Plump lips and dark eyes that seemed foreign but must have been his mother’s traits. The rest of his facial structure though, without a doubt was his father’s, Mr Park gave an almost relieved smile to see his son as your mother shook her head, “Oh no it’s fine. We were just passing the time waiting for your arrival, it’s pleasure to finally meet you! I’ve heard many great things from your father.”

Her smile looked nervous and her hands had clasped, another telltale sign of her anxiety. You though? You had relaxed back into your chair, your face running blank- not in an intimidating way but more of a poker face then anything. Unreadable, just the way you liked it.

“As have I,” He flashed a brilliant smile that had surely broke over a dozen hearts as he introduced himself, “I’m Jimin, the pleasure is all mine.”

But his gaze suddenly flickered meeting yours as you coolly crossed your legs, wine glass in hand taking a sip. The polite exterior you had worked rather hard to show melting into a more intense stare, some might even consider it a glare but you couldn’t help it, It was a classic defensive look on you, one you couldn’t help in your defense. 

Last time your mom went on a date it was with a three time sex offender, not that she had known at the time but everything was not always what it seemed and that memory was living proof of it. Jimin and his father? They were no exception either and it was gonna take a lot more then a pretty smile to convince you they weren’t a wolves lurking beneath sheeps clothes.

There was something about Jimin you felt unsure of, the flecks of amusement in his eyes didn’t surpass your sharp, intimidating gaze and it was as if he intended for it to be seen by you alone. You didn’t like it one bit.

“And you are?” Jimin took a seat across from you, shifting forward instantly as he curved an eyebrow noting your lack of greeting. What could he expect though? This wasn’t exactly what you depicted your Friday night looking like. In fact, you would’ve preferred to be in bed before work right now but again, for the sake of everyone at the table you’d keep your mouth shut.

Keeping the glass pressed against your lips, you let the bitter liquid slip down your throat before finally replying, “Y/n,” you tossed in a quick half hearted smile noticing your mother and Mr Park tensing at their children interacting for the first time, before adding in, “It’s a pleasure to meet you as well.”

The evening was- rather painful in your opinion. Not for your mother, but definitely you. The reasoning unfortunately being Jimin’s utter fascination by you. You weren’t sure whether to be flattered or offended honestly, there was never not a moment he didn’t drag the conversation in your direction. Was he really that curious? 

Or was he just being polite in attempt to keep you apart of the group? Regardless it came across more flirtatious then anything else, which made you inwardly cringe. Your parents were dating did he not have any respect at all? You both could potentially become siblings and you were not about that life.

“So Y/n, what do you do for a living?”

You opened your eyes, pausing your fingers mid motion from the circle they traced against the temple of your aching head. Maybe it was the wine, or maybe it was just from the draining evening, you weren’t quite sure at this point.

You half way wondered if you could get away with a short vague answer but quickly dismissed the idea when you saw your mother shoot you a glance, clearing your throat you gave a sheepish smile, “Well...” pressing your lips together for a moment you gather yours thoughts on how to approach the subject, it’s not like you had a glamorous life, “I haven’t decided what I’d like to do college wise yet so I’ve just been working two jobs. My first is at a local bakery. My favorite out of the two.”

You could ramble all day about your job at the bakery, it was a cute little shop with cakes a little too overpriced and the shop a little to intimate for your personal taste but it got you through the day. Jimin however glossed over the answer as he pressed on, “Oh? Is the other one not very pleasant?”

Feeling all eyes on you, you shifted in your seat thinking for a moment before giving another awkward smile, not quite liking all the attention he continued to shower you in, what was this guys deal? “No- It’s just boring...I just work maintenance at the hospital.”

You didn’t have the heart to admit not only did you work in the psych ward but you also worked as mainly a janitor. The most action you had ever got was being sent to give a patient their lunch on a busy rotation. Besides that? You got to clean out rooms all day. Not the most fun job in the world but taking night shift was the only reason you could afford an apartment- that you still shared with your mother of course.

“What a hard worker!” Mr Park praised, giving an enthusiastic nod, a small smile on his face that looked without a doubt genuine yet you couldn’t help but feel slightly patronized, “I can only hope It compensates well.”

And that was the question of the hour, you supposed it really didn’t to a wealthy family such as the Parks , but it got the bills paid and you hadn’t taken to e-sites yet so that was a plus, “It compensates enough to help my mother out so I won’t complain.” You offered a tiny reserved smile as you relaxed back in your seat. And it was true, as long as you could continue living in your little apartment you weren’t going to complain. It wasn’t a lot in life but it was enough.

Your eyes flickered over to Jimin’s, he appeared as though he was almost assessing you before meeting his own eyes with yours, a devilish smirk twisted onto his lips as if he discovered something. You frowned looking away, not liking that look one bit, but as soon as you saw it it just as quickly vanished. Jimin was still very conscious of your parents at the table, but he seemed to find one way or another to pass innuendo remarks your way through the night.

By the time the night had come to an end you were grateful for it, going home to sleep sounded incredible. You’d have the next two hours to yourself before clocking into work at the psych ward. It wasn’t a lot of sleep but it was a little less then roughly the average with both jobs. And whatever naps you could slip in during the day.

Eventually settling into bed you let your eyes collapse whilst sinking into the bed.

Your alarm clock had greeted you all too fast and familiarly as you groaned.

Rolling over to the other side of your pillow, makeup you had been to lazy to remove undoubtedly getting smeared all over your face in the process. Eventually you forced yourself out of bed and back onto your feet for your nightly grind, it was just another day at the job you supposed

“Wait hold on-“ Hoseok held up a hand, the other loosely clasped the mop that had begun to dry out from not having been dunked in so long, his nose scrunched in genuine confusion as he glanced at you, “Why are you trying to complain about your mom’s boyfriend when he offered to take you to Dubai for free AND his ‘hot’ son kept flirting with you. Where’s the cons in that?”

Your head shot up from its slouched position as you gritted your teeth, looking over your shoulder as you sent him a whither glare. There wasn’t any cons you understood that much but it wasn’t the trip or even Jimin you were talking about, “That’s besides the point Hoseok. Don’t you think this is all just going a bit too fast?”

You fixed your eyes back onto the bed sheet that had been stubbornly refusing to go under the corner of the bed, yanking the sheet once more before it complied, tucking it under as you sighed, “It’s just weird okay? I mean I guess it makes sense, she said they’ve been seeing each other for a little over six months but haven’t made it official until a few weeks ago,”

Pressing your lips together you paused to gather your thoughts before dejectedly dropping your shoulders, shaking your head as you turned to face your friend, “I understand why she didn’t tell me but- it would’ve been nice to know she was seeing someone a little bit sooner y’know?”

Hoseok nodded seeming to understand your reasoning as he finally dunked the mop back into the bucket before resuming his position to finish mopping up the unfortunate patients bile, “Well that’s understandable, it does seem a bit sudden but you might as well cease the opportunity for a free vacation right?”

You shrugged loosely figuring he was probably right, who wouldn’t take that offer? “Mhm, ill see if I can get the week off. It’d suck ass if I can’t go because of work not letting me.”

Hoseok grinned brightly as he dunked the mop back in the bucket once more, his eyes mischievous with a gleam you were all too familiar with, “You leave that up to me, Taehyung can cover his end at the bakery.”

“What’s that suppose to me?” You furrowed your brows, already not liking whatever your friend had in mind. Both of your friends were known troublemakers and you more than less got dragged through the mud on their adventures. That being said you also suffered the consequences as well.

None which were too pleasant and you had a feeling- just the tiniest sensation that whatever it was Hoseok was planning- would inevitably somehow come back to bite you in the ass. Regardless you wouldn’t be able to stop him as he only smiled, humming a falsely innocent tune as he resumed cleaning the floor.

Sighing you only shook your head before finishing making the bed, despite their mischievous tendencies you loved them dearly and knew they would only do this specifically in your favor even if the ends were unfavorable.

You and Hoseok were walking down the hallway to the next room when you both had heard a horrible screeching, it sounded as though someone was in agony though it was unfortunately a sound you had long since gotten use too.

The familiarity of the tone however made you frown as you glanced at Hoseok’s wide pupils, the woman’s hair was ragged and tangled, two of the psych nurses were holding each arm as they guided her past you in a rush despite the struggle she put up. Hoseok could barely put a foot forward before you caught him by the shoulder, his muscles tensed and his mouth in a hard line though he didn’t push your hand away, “Hobi you know the rules...”

His mouth twitched, annoyed at the reminder before he dropped his head in resignation, knowing you were right and knowing there was nothing he could do about it, “It’s the first time I’ve seen her all month...” he muttered under his breath as your frown deepened.

Your grip on his shoulder loosened before giving him a pat, unsure of what to do in realms of comfort as you sighed, “You just have one more semester to go...then you can take care of her. Cheer up you’ll be there in no time.” You finished your sentence brightly with a smile in hopes of letting it infect him. He didn’t succumb to it as much as you would’ve liked but Hoseok brightened at your words regardless, nodding solemnly before continuing your path to the next room. You knew it had to be hard to endure seeing your mother in such a state, knowing you were close to being able to help her but not quite there. In fact, you couldn’t even imagine how difficult it must have been for Hoseok.

He had a place here, he had a reason to be here, a goal. His mother had been schizophrenic since he was little, leaving him without a mother most of his life. After his father past away during his last year of high school it sent his mother- literally- insane, you could vaguely remember one of her hysteria episodes when you had come over to help him on his science project. 

It was quite frankly terrifying but Hoseok had never viewed it that way and certainly never held a grudge against her, after she was permanently admitted to the ward it had become his goal to become a psych nurse to stay with her full time and help her get better.

You had always admired his goal, but you yourself didn’t have a place here, you had mused over the idea of becoming a psych nurse yourself but was never quite sure if you could stomach the sight. It was one thing hearing it, and occasionally catching glimpses but it was another to be with them hands on everyday. 

You supposed the only real reason you were here was to get an extra pay check each week, that and Hoseok had actually asked you to join with him, sense no medical experience was necessary you didn’t see the harm and it wouldn’t interfere with your day job.

Sleep had become null in your life but it wasn’t as though you had gotten any to begin with, and to top it all off you were able to stay by his side each night to motivate him to keep going. It all worked out in the end.

By the time you had clocked out from the ward it was nearly seven in the morning and you would be at the bakery by eight. Stopping to get a breakfast sandwich on the walk to work you had picked up an energy drink along the way, it would be much needed during your late shift today. You checked your phone one last time, snickering at your group chats string of messages earlier that night.

To be fair your friends were your go to when it came to complaining. Except Taehyung really needed to stop staying up so late, especially when he didn’t have a reason too. Dragging your feet into the bakery the waft of fresh baked muffins made your mouth water but the sight before you was more then enough to make you lose your appetite as you groaned. 

Taehyung still had bed hair as he lazily finished tying his apron, looking at you tired but expectantly, still not happy at the fact that you left him on read, “So are you going to Dubai or not?”

“If I can get the time off then sure. But I don’t know if I can. Hoseok said he’d talk to our boss about it but I don’t really know what that means...” You looked towards the floor, the wood was a bright glossy orange tone with rough grooves making it look worn, “Then again...I don’t really think I want too...” murmuring it more to yourself then him as you walked behind the counter.

Plucking the apron from the rack as you pulled it over head. Taehyung didn’t so much as blink as he replied, “Oh I’ll talk to my dad about it.” His dad having owned the bakery made it pretty easy for Taehyung to make excuses to get out of work. 

Not that his dad appreciated it so much as he did tolerate it, for you however it was a bit different, you were one of Taehyung’s only friends and perhaps the hardest worker he had. Taehyung didn’t even bat an eye at the idea as he began prepping the bowl for a sour cream bundt cake, one of your favorite morning treats had there ever been any left over to spare.

“You really don’t have too...” you frowned, looking away. You loved your friends but they really didn’t need to go out of their way to help you get time off. But you understood in a way, if they were in your position you would’ve done everything physically possible to help them get time off, but it wasn’t them, it was yourself.

Suddenly a hand attempted ruffled your hair- which had been tied in a half attempted bun, rather then ruffle though it just tugged and yanked at your scalp making you scowl in displeasure, attempting to shove Taehyung away as he gave a boxy grin clearly enjoying tormenting you, “Of course I do, you barely have time to breath let alone relax, it’ll be good for you.”

Scoffing you crossed your arms looking away sourly, attempting to smooth out the bumps in your hair before sighing, looking out the large glass windows ahead as you asked, “Isn’t your mom coming by today?”

It was Taehyung’s turn to scowl as he looked away broodingly, “Yeah but only to get the rest of her shit.” It wasn’t the best topic change but you’d do anything to get off the discussion of yourself. That and you got worried about him from time to time, he always had a habit of bottling up his emotions, acting like his situation didn’t bother him, but deep down you knew it did. 

You weren’t a stranger to divorced parents, but it wasn’t like your dad ran away from his perfectly functional and loving family to chase after money bags. Taehyung was still very much bitter about the divorce having it only been officially a year ago now. He silently looking down, roughly stirring the bowl making the veins on his forearms pop out.

“Tae...” you sighed looking down at the cash register, waiting for costumers that had yet to come, morning rush wouldn’t be for another half hour, “It’s okay to talk about it y’know?”

You watched his jaw clench as he continued stirring, pausing for a moment to sift in the next cup of flour before resuming his previous action. After another minute he gripped the spatula tightly before looking ready to throw it as he growled out, “What’s the point? It’s obvious she only cares about her precious financial security. I...I thought she-“ 

His eyes had began to gloss slightly before his jaw clenched again, regripping the wooden handle as he angrily glared down the batter. But beneath his furious exterior you could only see the hurt his face held, the betrayal in his eyes as if the memories of last year had resurfaced. You had finished shift at the ward early morning but hadn’t even gotten to lay in bed when you heard a rushed knock at the door.

It had been four in the morning and Taehyung was crying at your doorstep saying his parents were going to start the process of their divorce later that morning. You would never forget that night, it had apparently come out his mother was having an affair with some upper class lawyer, his father was so broken he ended up asking you if Taehyung could stay the day with you.

It wasn’t as if you’d ever imagine refusing, the bakery stayed closed that day giving you both the day off, he had stayed in bed most the day with you refusing to talk. And ever since that day he had kept it that way. Most conversations about his mother ended up this way, he would come close to opening up but would inevitably shut down, only broodingly staring down at bowl he continued to pour into the bundt pan, “...What about you?”

You blinked confused, looking over at him as you tilted your head, “Pardon?”

“It’s Saturday I mean...” Taehyung replied, doing the same as you had before to change the subject from one sore topic to another, “You’re going to stay with your dad right?”

You shrugged attempting to play it off coolly despite the slight tensing in your muscles at the idea, “Well nobody else is gonna do it for me...”

Taehyung only grimaced at your reply, having put him in a bad mood, or maybe he was already in one. It was getting more difficult with each day to figure out the difference, “I don’t know why you even bother, he’s such a deadbeat, who the fuck keeps bumming off their kid for money? I mean seriously.”

Your face fell slightly at his bruising words as you sighed, fidgeting with your shirt as you glanced back down at the register, noticing your lack of reply Taehyung glanced up. His sharp features softening slightly at your dejected figure, realizing he had been a little too harsh he gently grabbed your arms, pulling you into a hug you genuinely didn’t see coming. 

Your face began to feel hot as he rested his chin against the top of your head, “I’m sorry for being such an asshole...” he murmured, his voice a deep soft dulcet tone as it always had when he spoke softly. You could barely register his voice that tickled against your ear.

You had never viewed Taehyung as a romantic interest, ever in your life to be honest. But you weren’t blind to how good looking he was, whether or not you liked him anyone that attractive could easily make you flustered, “I just get worried about you,” Taehyung confessed in a quiet murmur, arms still locked around you, not tightly but firm enough for you to not slip away, “I don’t want him to take advantage of your kindness, you really are too good for this world Y/n.”

Sighing you finally forced yourself to relax into the hug though still not having returned it, having been touch starved most of your life you weren’t exactly use to such an affection, “If...” you sighed again having barely started your sentence before agitatedly closing your eyes, there wasn’t much to look at anyways besides the white apron and black hoodie underneath, “If I don’t do it...then who will?” Your voice cracked slightly before your shoulders began to sag, “I know how it is but- if there’s a chance I can help him turn things around-“

“Then what?” Taehyung questioned, his voice still soft as though to not provoke you anymore then he already had, but firm enough to make you frown, “It’s not going to get your parents back together, and it’s not going to take away everything he’s done to you both.”

For a brief moment you were thankful he had hugged you, you were unsure if you could stand to face him any other way, “Well of course it won’t change the past but...I can change the future, I can have a father again, I can move forward and build a relationship with him. I-... I don’t want to be someone who has daddy issues the rest of my life Taehyung.” You finally broke away from him, unable to stand the physical contact anymore as you took a few steps to distance yourself comfortably as you glanced up at his tall figure, “If anything I’m doing it for myself, for a peace of mind. To know that-“

You stopped for a second as if to gather your thoughts before continuing, “If he can’t turn his life around, if he can’t get past the alcohol, then I’ll know there was nothing I could’ve done to help. Then...and only then will I be able to move on and let it go. There’s no point in me holding a grudge against him, sure, I have every damn right but- I mean...what do I have to gain from that?” 

Your voice finally softened as did your expression as you asked the question aloud. You let it hang in the air as the bell chime rang, letting you know the day had officially begun. Taehyung appeared in thought as you gave him one last look before attending to the first costumer, you had hoped, that maybe you changed some of his perspective.

He had been holding a grudge against his mother for the whole year, rightfully so. But just as you asked aloud, what did he really gain from that?

Sluggishly you began to walk up the old rickety porch steps with a loud yawn, the long day had finally began to catch up to your body that no amount of energy drinks could fix. Your body craved a long sleep you knew you wouldn’t get tonight especially with staying the weekend at your dads. Opening the door your nose instantly scrunched to the smell of alcohol, paper had covered the ground and was soiled with what you had assumed was beer. Once upon a time this house use to be an absolute hell, a private nightmare just for you.

But you weren’t a kid anymore and so your fears hadn’t taken root anymore, they had left scars for sure but you had become far too desensitized for it to scare you anymore, atleast not when you know you can always bail. You have another home you can ran too if this one goes up in flames. Stopping in front of the collapsed figured you sighed at your fathers passed out figured in front of the TV the monotonously played in the background. You tilted your head slightly as you mused over how unlike your father was to whom you had just met the night before, Mr Park.

They had to be opposite in every possible way, he was so soften spoken while your father was as loud as they came, gruff in appearance from all of the drinking he had accomplished he was no stranger to gambling either. You leaned down pulling him up onto the couch, pulling the blanket down over him before turning off the TV. 

Going to the kitchen it was a wreck as always when you first came over, you were sure the only time you ever saw it clean was when you were the one scrubbing it down. Cleaning off a glass before filling it with water you pulled out the medicine basket. You meant to be looking for some Tylenol but ended up scowling at the set of needles you had found instead. Was he even trying to hide it from you anymore?

Grabbing them you clenched your fist before dumping them into the trash, you could care less if he saw when he woke up. If anything he should be the one worried about your anger rather then the reverse. Pulling out the Tylenol from the bottle you grabbed both the glass before setting it down on the littered living room coffee table. Finally you trudged down the hallway, resting in your old bedroom, now ragged with chipped paint and a stained mattress. You didn’t even want to think about who had been in here when you weren’t staying during the week. Closing your eyes exhaustedly you let sleep over take you.

Sleep however didn’t stay for long. It was roughly eight at night when you were abruptly woken up to a slam on the door, “Why the fuck did you throw away my needles you inconsiderate bitch. That costed me half my check.”

Not the first thing you wanted to be woken up too. Slowly you sat up before glancing at the door where orange light streamed, making your tired face and dark circles prominent as you glowered bitterly. You were being honest when you told Taehyung there wasn’t a point holding a grudge, but it was something you still struggled with in moments like this, “Have you ever considered it’s not worth your check? All it’s gonna do is get you in your grave ten years early if sorosis doesn’t take you first.”

Standing up now you rubbed your eyes, but not for long as your oxygen was suddenly caught off, making you gag slightly as you grabbed his wrist in reflex, his hand squeezed tightly at you throat, “Don’t fucking touch my stuff again and don’t disrespect your father. I’m the reason you’re even here you worthless brat.” You were shoved back, knocked down against the bed as your eyes screwed into a glare, knowing well that provoking him wasn’t going to get you anywhere as you huffed watching him walk away, unable to resist a muttered, “Can’t respect anyone when you’re footing their main check.”

It was the truth, sadly. You wanted to badly to move on from all of this, you wanted your father to at least try to get back on track to recovering and to at least try to maintain a normal paycheck, you wanted a lot of things. Which he was none. Couldn’t he just try? If not for himself then for you? Anger bubbled beneath your figure and old wounds threatened to reopen.

“The fuck did you say!?” He whipped around sharply, honing in on you ready to lash out again as your face darkened broodingly, standing up again as you grabbed the half empty cup from you desk, taking a sip from the bitter musty water as you asked, cynicism biting in your voice as you replied snidely, “You really want me to repeat that?”

He instantly stalked back over to you grabbing you by the collar as he slammed you against the wall, “I don’t need anything from you, all you’ve done is ruin my life. So take your shit and your pity and get the fuck out of my house.”

Your body smacked the ground from where he threw you as you gritted your teeth, sighing as you got onto your knee’s. The alcohol still in his system making him more volatile then usual as you let him walk away. Having the final say as he always said, if it made him feel better. 

A lie because you’d always have some apology text from him the next day, just as he would tomorrow. There was no point in staying here, especially if he already found the needles again and got himself hyped again. The only thing you’d be is dead if you kept provoking him and you’d be useful to no one like that.

Grabbing your phone you sighed, running a hand through your hair as you groaned,

you could call her, but you didn’t want her to worry, and you knew she would rightfully so if she saw the state you were in. You could just go home but...you sighed looking down at your shaky hands. 

You didn’t want to be affected so much by your father but he still deep down did scare you. You had learned to contain yourself but you knew you were on the verge of a panic attack, would you ever learn to get past this? To not have anger burning through your vein that ran side by side with your fear? Swallowing thickly you opened your phone to call Hoseok. 

He was confused and sounded sleepy but naturally he said you were always welcomed to stay over.

Carefully you had made your way down the hall and slipped out, your father too out of it to really notice you leaving. It was a fairly long walk but you didn’t care too much. You were simply glad to be out of the house and eventually back into the warmth of your friends home. The spare key under the mat as it always had been. The entire apartment was dark so you assumed Hoseok must’ve went back asleep, deciding not to wake him you went to the freezer, pulling out a tub of ice cream as you made yourself at home.

Sitting at the small table you curled up on the chair as you dug in, not getting far in your meal as you heard a voice from behind, “Would’ve ordered takeout if you told me you were hungry.”

“I didn’t wanna wake you,” You pouted, spoon still tucked into your cheek before popping it out. Hoseok’s hair was ruffled letting you know he was indeed asleep before you had showed up, scratching his head he opened his mouth before quickly closing it as his eyes landed on your neck. Watching you carefully as your eyes visibly dimmed, looking away from him as you frowned, “Oh..so that’s why you wanted to come over...” he murmured as he walked over to the table, sitting beside you as he took the spoon from your hand, “Wanna talk about it?”

Your vision already blurring and hands beginning to shake as you shook your head, keeping your composure as you murmured, “Not really...” but it threatened to crumple as you covered your face with your hands, finally ready to let the tears out but you were stopped when you heard a knock at the door. Shooting your head up alert as you looked towards Hoseok confused, he shrugged loosely as he replied, “Taehyung called not too long after you wanting to stay as well, he didn’t want to bother you with it being the week end and all.”

Rubbing your eyes despite then being dry you furrowed your eyes, “What?” Taehyung had let himself in, you could already tell his mood had been soured as he huffed trudging over to Hoseok as soon as he saw him looking ready to vent for a good three hours. He stopped in his tracks though when he saw you. “Y/n?” His lips parted surprised, “I thought you...” he trailed off, catching sight of your neck as you looked away dejectedly, pulling the spoon back from Hoseok to continue whittling away on the coffee flavored treat. Avoiding Taehyung’s scowling gaze as if his mood just got ten times worse, “He did this, didn’t he!?”

Sighing Hoseok got up from his chair, instantly pointing to the short narrow hallway as he glanced at Taehyung, not saying anything in return. Taehyung opened his mouth again ready to object but Hoseok cut him off, “Shut up and go, now isn’t the time dipshit.”

His mouth screwed shut again, blowing a harsh huff of air through his nose as he glanced one last time at you before going to the single bedroom down the hallway, “I’ll be back in a minute Y/n.” Hoseok called out but you only shook your head.

“By all means, take your time. Looks like he’s gonna need it.” And you knew you were right, Taehyung was extremely verbal when he was upset and you knew seeing your situation must’ve amplified his already emotional mood. You were usually the opposite, quiet and broody. It had been another half hour before you saw them again. 

You had pulled out the Funtom couch to a bed with a movie in the background before you felt two people sandwich in on either side of you, groaning you began to wiggle, “The fuck? You know I’m not a cuddler guys- seriously I’m fine!”

“No you’re not Y/n,” Hoseok replied simply pulling you against his chest, stroking your hair as you continued to squirm, “And that’s okay, you don’t have to be strong right now.”

Your lips began to quiver at his words, the upset you had shoved down your chest began to bubble again. Taehyung had meanwhile made himself comfortable spooning you from behind as he pressed his face into the crook of your neck. Obviously ignoring what Hoseok was saying as he grumbled, “He should be in jail, you don’t deserve to put up with this shit Y/n.”

Hearing so many conflicting statements and feeling so confused you finally cracked under their coddling, letting your shoulders shake as you let the first tear drop down your face. They simply held you comfortingly, saying no more now that they had gotten you to stop brooding on your emotional state. Eventually when you had cried all the tears you could silence fell around you all.

It wasn’t uncomfortable, your friends...you loved them so much, they were your everything and you weren’t sure what you would’ve done without them. Facing the world was so much easier knowing you could fall back on them. Hoseok had let you go with ease as you finally wiggled out of their grip. Taehyung however let out a whine in objection having been the most cuddliest of the three, you ignored him as you crawled over him and to the safety of the side of the funtom.

“Oh Y/n, by the way I spoke to our boss and he said you can have the week off for your trip.” Hoseok suddenly spoke up as if just remembering, peering over your pouty friend to look at you.

Your eyebrows shot up and despite your ugly tear stained face you were genuinely shocked, “Seriously? How did you-...actually I don’t want to know but...” you mustered a weak smile, “Thanks Hobi I owe you.”

The thanks made Taehyung huff loudly as he flopped over to face you, “Oh, well if we’re going by that law then you owe me too. I was talking it over with my dad at dinner and he was more then happy to give you the time off.”

Your lips parted registering the information before letting out a laugh, the first genuine one either of them had heard in a long while, “Alright well then I owe both of you- but seriously, you guys are amazing I don’t think I could survive life without you.”

Hoseok grinned brightly as he shot you a wink, “Don’t worry you’ll repay the favor soon enough. Anyways get some sleep we have shift soon.”

Smiling you began to let your eyes droop as you murmured, “Okay...”

And honestly? The idea of vacation didn’t sound so bad after all.

Note: I honestly shouldn’t even be posting this given how much I don’t even update my other stories but like ??? I’m like 7 parts deep in this and my souls been invested in writing this for the past week. I should honestly be working on my Yoongi fic instead of writing another Jungkook centered insert but here we are x) Anyways let me know what you guys think and if you like it! Feedback is always appreciated! 🖤