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archonanqi · 4 years

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fragile as dust / 9 - the moments of peace

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a/n - hi! I've gotten some requests to start a tag list for this series. If you’d like to be tagged with updates, please send me an ask / message / reply! Thank you. :)

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ch 9 | the moments of peace

“To the left, to the left!”

With an embarrassing screech, you lunged forward, desperately searching for any movement in the dry grass. You came up empty. Adrenaline still hot in your veins, you jumped violently when Xiangling pat you on the shoulder.

“ Your left,” Xiangling corrected, pointing in the opposite direction of which you threw yourself.

You both stared wordlessly for a moment as the squirrel scurried away and out of sight.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled, cheeks hot against the morning air. This was the third expedition you’d embarked on so far, and you’d still yet to catch anything that could move faster than a sweet flower.

“That’s okay! Just means that I’ll need to come up with some dishes to make with the ingredients we have so far!” You could almost hear the gears grinding in her brain as she rummaged through the basket of plants that you had gathered, murmuring to herself. “Is this everything we gathered today?”

You hesitated before rifling through your pockets and producing the brown, lumpy object you’d found at the start of your expedition. You weren’t sure it was even edible (it certainly didn’t smell like it), but you wondered if it might suffice to salvage the botched trip, even a little.

“OH!” Xiangling’s eyes lit up soon as she saw what was in your hand. “Where did you find this?”

You peered at her cautiously, not sure if this was a good reaction or not. Also, her voice seemed to have hit a new high and you were worried it would begin to attract monsters.

“Uh, back there, in those ruins. There was a bunch,” you offered, pointing in the direction. “Is it usable?”

Xiangling seemed to have begun visibly vibrating. “Usable? This is Matsutake! It’s a rare mushroom, and it’s so versatile that it can be used in place of any— Oh, I’ll explain later, let’s go get them all before a boar finds them first!”

The sun was well above the horizon by the time you gathered enough Matsutake to fill the two baskets you’d brought. Xiangling had already started a fire with some Dendro slime concentrate — the way she’d taught you to do — when you returned from washing the mushrooms in a nearby stream.

“Could you chop the Jueyun Chilis for me, please?” Xiangling said, barely looking up from the wok. No matter how bubbly she had been, the moment she stood in front of a blazing fire and a vast array of ingredients, Xiangling always adopted a demeanor of complete calm. It was almost unnerving to watch, sometimes, how focused she could get. You hurried to obey.

“How many?”

She peered up then, the licking flames painting her grin a bright orange. “Hansi, have I taught you nothing over the past week?” She thumped her chest twice with a flour-covered hand, “in Mondstadt, they might use measurements like cups and tablespoons— but that’s not how I do things! In Liyue, we listen to our hearts. Just let Rex Lapis guide your hand!”

You stared at the chilis. If you’re just giving out guidance nowadays , you directed your silent thoughts towards the earth beneath your feet, I’d love to know what your deal with the Vision is.

In the end, you emptied just half a chili into the wok, because even just chopping it was beginning to make your eyes water. It instantly stained the hot oil a bright red. For the rest of the morning, you watched as Xiangling bustled around your little campsite, tasting this and that, asking you for various small and bewildering favors — you certainly hope that she didn’t really use the lizard tail that she had you go hunt down.

While at first you paid careful attention to Xiangling, the sight of a piece of Cor Lapis gleaming under the morning light dragged your thoughts elsewhere — towards what ( who ) was waiting for you when you returned home.

“Okay!” Xiangling finally said, making you jump. “Sorry that took so long! I’ve never had so much Matsutake to experiment with at once.” She held out two neatly packaged lunch boxes. “Take these, one for you, one for Mr Zhongli! It’s Matsutake Stirfry with Potatoes and Carrots! … I’ll come up with a better name later.”

You accepted the boxes with gracious thanks, just the smell wafting from them making your mouth water.

“I really want to see the look on your face when you taste it, but we’ve been out here for a little over five hours now,” Xiangling mused. Had it really already been five? Time seemed to fly when you were with Xiangling. “You should probably hurry home or Mr. Zhongli will get worried.”

You absently thanked her again, all the while wondering at the truth of that. Zhongli had certainly seemed a little worried after the incident with Tartaglia, briefly, though he quickly returned to his usual, unreadable demeanor. The idea that someone was waiting for you, would get worried if you never came home — it was bafflingly foreign, but also… so very warm.

As you turned to go, you could hear the grin in Xiangling’s voice when she called after you, “and here you were worried that you wouldn’t be able to help. This dish was only possible because of you, Hansi!”

Briefly and painfully, you yearned to understand how Xiangling managed to make a good thing of any situation. It seemed that there was far more than just cooking that Xiangling could teach you.

—-------------------

“Wonderfully seasoned,” Zhongli praised that afternoon, and you prayed that he didn’t notice your cheeks blushing as red as the chili oil. “A perfect balance of spice. Did you help make this?”

You bit back a smile as you nodded, and sent Rex Lapis your silent thanks for his... guidance.

—-------------------

Easing into Zhongli’s life was easier than you would ever have imagined.

After your disastrous breakfast incident, you had made a habit of waking early and accompanying him on his walks in the morning — at first to make up for setting his house on fire, then later, out of enjoyment. You found yourself looking forward to your long walks, breathing in the fresh air and seeing Liyue Harbor bathed in the dawnlight.

Before you knew it, you had memorized a few things about the mornings of Liyue: which routes to Yujing Terrace let you catch the early sunrise; what time Wanmin restaurant’s fresh shao’bing buns come out of the oven; and when little old Madame Ping, whom Zhongli always greeted respectfully, hobbled up the hill to water the glaze lilies.

It was only when Zhongli mentioned black perch stew and you lamented that Mr. Sun from the fish market wouldn’t get new stock until Monday, that you realized just how deeply entrenched in domestic life you had become.

There were other things you noticed too; the street corner where you used to play, sleep and beg. The sink behind the souvenir shop that you snuck to at night just to get a drink of clean water. Children who’d had the misfortune of being born like you, into families who couldn’t imagine feeding another mouth.

These things struck you with increasing guilt — of every child of Liyue who grew up without a home, what made you deserving of salvation? — but mostly, with fear. If Zhongli got tired of you, if you once again found yourself in that life...

Well.

You swept those thoughts deep deep deeper into your head, and forged on.

—-------------------

“Another umbrella, Mr. Zhongli?” You raised a brow. When had you begun to point out his eccentric purchases? You weren’t sure. “We’ve bought four today.”

“Ah,” Zhongli smiled, already reaching for the fifth. “Yes, so we have. Do you like white rabbit candy? Let’s get two bags.”

Resigned, you followed along, your exasperation quickly fizzling out as soon as you turned a corner and came face to face with the wide-eyed, dirt-smeared faces of a group of orphans. Dressed in lovely clean clothes and with so much color in your cheeks — you couldn’t imagine how you looked to them. You saw so much of yourself in their hungry gazes that you had to look away.

You watched as Zhongli bent down so that he met them at eye level. “Please, accept these,” he held out the umbrellas, and suddenly you began finding it hard to breathe, “it looks like there’s a storm coming. And also, won’t you all also take some sweets—?”

—-------------------

You, of course, kept your contract with Zhongli, as religiously as you would one with an Adeptus, or Rex Lapis himself. Each book that you enjoyed, you meticulously brought to him as though an offering, and each time, he seemed to have something to offer of his own. A book about the Five Yaksha, tales of the Dragon King, the legend of how Guyun Stone Forest was formed, memoirs from Guili Assembly — Zhongli always had some twist of his own to add to the stories.

“Did you know that before they came to serve Rex Lapis, the Yaksha were bound to a cruel, tyrannical God? Yet when they were freed, they chose to honor a contract to protect the humans of Liyue. How admirable.”

“Precious few stories speak of it, but the Dragon King was not sealed by Rex Lapis due to a disagreement, but rather, because he broke a contract. What contract exactly? Well, I can’t be ruining too many books for you now, can I, Hansi?”

“These illustrations of the spears that originally comprise Guyun Stone Forest are… certainly interesting. Why did they deem that stone spears formed from the essence of Geo themselves would possess tassels and a ribbon? I doubt that during the Archon War, Rex Lapis had time to consider the appearance of his weapons.”

“My my, these books certainly are taking their liberties with their descriptions of the Goddess of Dust. Kind, yes, gentle, perhaps, but weak? Why, is the Guizhong Ballista not one of the most powerful mechanisms in all of Liyue, even thousands of years after it was built? I would truly like to see what these authors consider strength.”

Each time you marveled at his vast pools of knowledge, Zhongli would, without fail, exhale deeply and smile his small smile. “I have a good memory,” was always his explanation. You couldn’t help but wonder just how many books the man had read in his lifetime — and where he found the time to do anything else.

While you were frequently more than impressed by his reserve of stories, the sentiment did not seem to extend to others in Liyue. More than one time had you and Zhongli been escorted, forcibly, from the Third-Round Knockout after your companion stood up to correct the storyteller on the stage.

The first time, you were mortified, though by the sixth you had learned to laugh it off as breezily as Zhongli did.

—-------------------

Sometimes, you recalled your earliest days at Zhongli’s house; how he had told you that your first order of business was to recover your health.

You had recovered, and so, what was next to come?

The house was always spotless despite the increasing number of items that Zhongli seemed to bring home each day from his walks. More than once, you reflected on his claims that he needed household help, and realized that he may not have been entirely truthful.

On particularly bad days, when the haze of doubt threatened to overtake every logical thought in your mind, you waited for his gaze to turn cruel, for his fingers to grip you painfully and for him to take whatever he wanted.

Yet — never did he so much as touch you.

—-------------------

The Vision sat as heavily in your conscience as it did in your bedside table.

You opened the drawer frequently to stare at the thing, more of a plague on you than a blessing, at this point. If you could not use it, then it was just an ornament — an ornament that put your amicable acquaintanceship with Zhongli at risk.

If he were to find out on his own, it would be so much worse than if you’d told him. The very notion of hurt, betrayal and fury in those amber eyes was almost too much for you to hear.

And so, one day, you decided that it would simply be best if you told him.

—-------------------

You rehearsed a script for hours on end, trying to guess each and every one of Zhongli’s potential reactions. Certainly, he would be upset, perhaps disappointed. You were almost sure that he would not hurt you over the discovery. And even if he did, perhaps it wouldn’t be anything you didn’t deserve, for lying for so long.

When you were finally ready, your knock on his door was answered by a deep, rich, “yes?”

You had never seen the inside of Zhongli’s room before, and so as you pushed the door open, you couldn’t help the way your heart leapt at the idea of seeing more of the man, learning more about him.

Your gaze first laid upon his face, edged silver in the moonlight. Then, immediately, it trailed downwards, to his shoulders, then—

Zhongli wasn’t wearing even a scrap of clothing.

“Oh,” he said, slightly raised brows betraying nothing but mild surprise, “I was changing.”

Wordlessly, you slammed the door shut and returned to your room.

—-------------------

When Zhongli came knocking ten minutes later, you were still a little dazed.

“Come in,” you called, and as he entered you were somewhat relieved to see that he was clad in his usual four layers of clothing. “Do you see how I said come in, Mr Zhongli? Because I wasn’t changing?”

“I believe what I said was ‘yes’.” It was never easy to tell what Zhongli was thinking, with his carefully neutral expression, but was there a small smile in his voice there?

“You can’t—“ you realized with a certain degree of shock at how casually you had begun to address Zhongli. (You searched yourself for fear, and found none.) “—You can’t just say ‘yes’ when what you mean is ‘hang on, I’m completely nude!’”

“I do apologize. I’ll keep that in mind for next time,” Zhongli said, and there was absolutely, definitely a small smile in his voice there. “What is it you wanted to tell me, Hansi?”

You opened your mouth, but paused.

In the darkness of his room, you had barely been able to make out what seemed to be odd lines down his arms and chest — tattoos? You hadn’t expected a nobleman like him to be so covered in them. But more importantly, in the few seconds you had beheld Zhongli’s well-toned form, you had seen what you knew all too well — scars, raked across his torso, stomach, legs, the raised tissue gleaming under the moonlight.

He had mentioned he had been fighting all his life, that he had been a soldier— but it was difficult to imagine even the Millelith facing foes so formidable that it could have left such injuries, and so many. What could have hurt him so badly?

What was he hiding from you?

The way he was looking at you expectantly suddenly felt strangely alien; the same Zhongli you had come to know and trust, but— not quite.

And so, you swallowed your question about the Vision. “Xiangling wanted me to get a backpack,” you said instead, “for when we gather herbs. Do you think it would be okay if we got one next time, Mr. Zhongli? I promise to pay you back for it when I earn enough Mora.”

“Hansi,” he said, after his usual few seconds of careful studying, and he sounded so concerned that it was almost comical. “Whatever gave you the impression that you would be forced to pay for anything of the sort while living under my roof?”

—-------------------

Perhaps in a valiant attempt to dissuade you of your sudden preoccupation with paying for things, Zhongli began to shower you with them. The first of the gifts was a beautiful bookmark, a thin piece of metal shaped to look like the Xiao lanterns of the Lantern Rite. It seemed to glow iridescent under lamplight, and you loved it so much that you carried it everywhere you went, the same way you never took off your glaze lily necklace.

Once Zhongli had ascertained that you did not mind gifts, and in fact enjoyed them, the floodgates swung open. Over the next few weeks, he would bring you various small items each time he returned from work or a walk: a Noctilucuous Jade hairpin, a painting of Luhua Pool, a golden gemstone that he called “Prithiva Topaz”, a small and surprisingly heavy pillar-shaped charm which he claimed came from a formidable monster from Guyun Stone Forest—

And on the most barren days, when the bustling markets of Liyue offered nothing that could meet Zhongli’s most particular standards, he would bring home various steamed buns, fresh fruit, and beverages, noting with keen amber eyes which ones were your favorites. Today, he had brought back a pitcher of “the finest gui’hua tea Liyue has to offer”.

Sitting in a room full of memorabilia that Zhongli had picked out for you, and sipping hot tea that warmed you to your core, you began to understand the feeling of home.

—-

The men were furious. You could feel their blunt rage in the air, tense enough to cut with a blade. If your wrists weren’t tied up, you might have been able to make a run for it.

“Welcome back. Do you know how much you cost us?” They snarled, one, two, three, four pairs of eyes staring you down. In the back, you could see the man with the scar on his eyebrow, the one who had escorted you to Zhongli. “Are you ready to pay us back?”

“Where is Mr. Zhongli?” You managed to whisper.

“Don’t you remember? He got tired of you,” they sneered in unison. “Surely you didn’t think someone like you would be enough to satisfy his appetite?”

Desperately, you shook your head. “He wouldn’t have. What did you do to him?”

One of them stepped forward and slapped you so hard that you briefly see white. “How stupid can you get?” His jaw cracked open into an unnatural, teeth grin, and the others followed suit all at once. “To start to trust, to start to dream ?”

You tried to back away, but your knees would not move. They were close enough to touch now, and together, like one grotesque entity, they reached out. “You should know better by now. You should know your place .”

Before their melting, festering fingers could touch your skin, you opened your mouth and screamed for Zhongli.

—-------------------

Across the house, Zhongli’s eyes snapped open, casting the room in a golden glow.

It wouldn’t be the last, but that had been the first time you had called him simply by his name.

—-------------------

You woke up to Zhongli calling yours, and couldn’t help the violent flinch that shook your shoulders when you saw him looming over you. The relief you felt at recognizing Zhongli’s silhouette was unimaginable.

“I heard you calling my name,” Zhongli said, raising both palms in a placating gesture. “Are you alright? Were you having a nightmare?”

Was that all it was; a dream? Your throat was hoarse — the screaming certainly wasn’t dreamed — and your chest raw from the fear and desperation. It felt like your skull was stuffed with cotton. Blindly, you reached out, relief washing away the last vestiges of the social norms instilled within you.

“You didn’t send me back?” You whispered, clutching at any patch of silk and skin you could find. “You didn’t leave?”

“No,” Zhongli met your fingers with his, holding your hand in a firm, gentle grip. He wasn’t wearing gloves, you realized absently. “Never.”

You stayed there for a few long seconds— or was it minutes? “Don’t go,” you begged when he began to pull away. Your eyelids were growing heavy, but the lingering haze of fear had you terrified of going to sleep again. “Please, don’t go.”

You heard the sound of a chair being dragged across the floor. “I’m here, Hansi,” Zhongli said, as you watched him sit down next to your bed. He was still holding your hand. “Get some rest. I will be with you.”

Zhongli’s rich, clear voice resonated through every inch of your body. You trusted him, you realized, letting your eyes shut. You would trust him with every breath of your being.

—-------------------

When you dreamed again, you found yourself in an endless land of clouds.

Zhongli sat in the midst of it all, eyes closed, unmoving. The soft glow of stars formed a nimbus of gold and dust around his temples. His chest rose and fell gently, and you were certain that you would see no better embodiment of peace for the rest of your life, not even if you lived for a thousand years.

You wanted to call out to him, but to break the tranquility of the moment seemed unforgivable.

And so for the rest of the night, you watched him breathe; and you were content.

#zhongli #zhongli fanfiction #genshin #zhongli x reader #zhongli fanfic #fragile as dust #my writing #anqi writes

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stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale · 3 years

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[against all odds, your hand is in mine] [2/4]

Seasons change, and with each comes a different story. In a world where the dead roam around, romantic companionship seems unlikely. Yet Ericson stands, and within it are four couples who are proof that it's possible.

Summer: Clouis | sleepless nights, purple and orange skies, adventure, rooftops

Read on AO3

Notes: Hi. Have some clouis I wrote at 3 o’clock in the morning when I couldn’t sleep. Just as much hand holding and smoochin’ as the last one.

[screenshot used is from the lovely @pi-creates who also helped me figure out this damn school layout... well as much as possible. the school layout is wild.]

---

Clementine used to dread night.

Before she and AJ had a stable roof over their heads, comfortable beds to sleep in, and a room to call their own. That's when night used to weigh down on them. Many sleepless nights she would lay awake in the back seat of their car with AJ curled at her side. Every little noise kept her alert, feeding into her worry.

Noisy bugs, the coo of an owl, walkers groaning in the distance, hungry animals, and sometimes dangerous people trying to survive by any means necessary- they were what occupied her mind every damn night.

What if she fell asleep and walkers surrounded the car? What if scavengers broke in and took their stuff at gunpoint? What if the place they parked wasn’t safe? What if she couldn’t get to her bag in time, or the knife from beneath the seat?

Then night would end, dawn would break, and another morning sun would rise. They would survive all over again.

Sometimes dawn was worse. She always wanted to let AJ sleep just a little longer, but couldn’t. They were back on the road with empty stomachs and never enough sleep in their systems. The same thing every damn day. She would promise AJ they would find something, that one day they would find a safe place they could call home.

She was never sure that day would come, but it did.

They were saved after a car accident that should’ve left them to the walkers, and brought to Ericson’s Boarding School for Troubled Youth.

It wasn’t easy ensuring this place as a home for herself, AJ, and the rest she’s come to love as her family, but it was worth it. Clementine doesn’t have to sleep clutching a knife in her fist anymore or lay awake wondering when they’ll find their next meal.

She doesn’t even have to worry too much about her recovery.

The loss of a leg like that? Clementine knew she wouldn’t have survived that if they were still out on the road.

Everything they went through was worth it.

While walkers still roam and there are other dangers out there, most of her other troubles were in the past. She has family to rely on now. Aasim and Louis are by her side to keep things running smoothly. AJ takes on more responsibility the older he gets. Not everything falls on her.

The only things she should think about at night now are the good things. The fact that AJ sleeps peacefully in the bed across from her, and how Louis’ arm feels draped over her waist as he rests beside her. Sleep should be easy, and night shouldn’t be intimidating.

And yet, she lies awake with thoughts so loud and overwhelming, she’s surprised they don’t rouse the entire dorm. It doesn’t help that her leg has been bothering her with “ghost pains,” as Ruby calls it, and the dorms are sweltering from the heatwave this week, leaving the air stuffy and uncomfortable. Sweat sticks to her brow and everything is uncomfortable. No matter what position she lays in, no matter how dark it is out or how open the window is, there’s no escape from any of it.

It’s hot enough that Louis suggested he sleep in the other bunk for the night so that they didn’t smother each other. They both knew that wasn’t going to happen, but it’s sweet that he tried. They’ve shared this bed for over a year now, and even though his arm is heavy and does nothing but make her warmer, it’s harder to sleep without him there.

He even tried his best to sleep as close to the wall so he could give her more space, but no matter what, he always ends up rolling over closer to her.

With a small sigh, Clementine reaches up to feel atop the dresser beside the bed. First she grazes wood- her peg leg. Pushing that aside, she finds the water bottle she kept there. Maybe that’s what she needed. The heat always made her throat dry, and the air in here is so humid it’s nearly driving her insane.

Wrapping her fingers around Louis’ wrist, she lifts his arm to slide away as gently as she can so as to not disturb him. A quick, sharp pain shoots through her thigh, and she has to bite her lip to suppress a wince. It doesn’t linger, but damn, sometimes it’s enough to put her whole body into shock.

A soft gust hits her from the window as she sits at the edge of the bed, a small relief that goes as soon as it arrives. She hopes for more windy days. At least then the heat is bearable in the shade. When everything is still and the sun is in full bloom, there’s no escape.

Louis shifts, arm spreading out across the space she no longer laid. Something about that makes her smile. Most of his face is buried in the pillow, the rest obscured by his dreadlocks. She reaches over to brush them back. Her fingers linger after tucking them behind his ear, revealing his serene expression.

There were so many nights that Clementine slept alone in the woods. Before she got AJ back, there were nights where she was convinced she’d never sleep in another bed again.

Damn it.

These thoughts… they won’t go away.

The water is just as warm as everything else, but at least it leaves her a little less parched than before. What she would give for some ice. Hell, at this point, she’s tempted to hobble out of Ericson, down to the river, and fling herself into the cool water. She wouldn’t even care if she scared away all the fish or got all gross and muddy.

The heat of a hand brushing her back startles her, causing water to dribble down her chin.

Louis rubs soothing circles over the thin material of her t-shirt. Staring up at her through drowsy, lidded eyes, he sighs.

All thoughts of the river are gone.

“Clem?” His voice is rough, quiet.

She smiles down at him. His hand falls to rest against her arm as she whispers back.

“I didn’t mean to wake you. Go back to sleep.”

A hum sounds from his throat, and for a moment, she thinks he’s doing as she said. But instead, Louis props himself up on an elbow to better see her through the dark.

“Your leg?” he asks, cocking his head, his brow furrowed with a concern that spreads warmth through Clementine’s chest. “Is it bothering you?”

“Only a little,” she admits with a shrug, then offers him the water bottle. “More thirsty and sweaty, if anything. Hard to get comfortable in this heat.”

Louis takes a swig of water, grimacing at the taste. “That all?”

“Mostly.”

“Bad dream?”

“Have to sleep long enough to dream.”

“Ah,” he says. Closing up the water bottle, he scoots closer to her kiss her clothed shoulder, resting his chin there. “What’cha thinkin’ about?”

“Everything, nothing,” she tries, relaxing against him. “I don’t know.”

“Wanna talk about it?”

“The everything, or the nothing?”

“Whichever.”

“Nah, I don’t want to keep you up.”

“Too late, love,” he yawns. “I’m wide awake.”

She smiles. “You sound it.”

“Mmhmm.”

Clementine rubs her heavy eyes, and her hand falls into her lap only to be grabbed by him. A bit of embarrassment washes over her knowing how sweaty her palms are, but Louis doesn’t seem to mind.

“It’s hot,” he grumbles when she doesn’t speak. “It’s bullshit.”

She really must be tired because she nearly chokes on a laugh. Her other hand presses against her mouth, and she freezes to check on AJ. He’s still fast asleep, sprawled over the bed and snoring. Louis chuckles into her shoulder.

Despite complaining about the heat, Louis presses closer to where he’s almost beside her. He watches outside the window. It’s not as dark as it was when they were laying in bed. Dawn’s coming, and that makes her sigh. Her only consolation is that even though she knows she’ll be tired all day, maybe it'll be enough to make her want to sleep when night comes once more.

Louis hums, and then pulls away so quick, she almost falls back. When he speaks her name, he’s strangely serious.

“Clementine?”

She loves the way he says her full name. She never told him that, but somehow he was able to figure it out.

“You up for a little adventure?” he asks.

She raises a questioning brow at him. “Uh, what kind of adventure?”

He’s out of bed, silently moving about as he whispers, “That’s for me to know and you to find out.” He grabs her slipper and his boots from the corner, and her makeshift peg leg from the dresser.

“Right now?”

She’s sure by “adventure” he means playing piano in the common room until morning arrives and they have to get the day started, but it’s a bit early for that. Usually, their piano lessons are in the evening time.

Louis kneels down in front of her to help secure her peg leg. She waves him away with a suppressed giggle when he tries to slide her slipper on like in that old princess cartoon. Both hands in his, he pulls her up from the bed, only to then grab her crutches. Odd.

She’s gotten better at balancing on her peg leg for short distances, only using crutches on busy days where she needs the extra support.

“You’ll need them for where we’re going,” he explains, handing them to her.

“The common room isn’t that far.”

“Who said anything about the common room?”

Before she can respond, he grabs two pillows from the top bunk above their bed and presses a finger to her lips. He nods over at AJ, who’s still fast asleep. They try to sneak out as soundlessly as possible, but that’s hard with how loud her crutches tend to be when moving. Luckily, they don’t seem to disturb the slumbering boy.

They’re hit with the refreshing morning air as soon as they step outside. Louis walks ahead of her, stretching his arms high above his head and letting out a yawn that turns into a satisfied groan. Clementine inhales as much as her lungs allow her, the scent of cool dirt and something floral an intoxicating combination.

“Y’know, I’m not much of a morning person,” Louis says. “It’s a shame.”

“Neither am I.”

They’re both notorious for sleeping in and being the last ones up. Might be due to them being night people or having troubling sleep patterns. Either way, AJ usually has to shake them awake, and even then, they end up lying in bed until they have to get a move on.

“And yet, you’re up so early.”

“Funny,” she knocks into his shoulder with a smile. “So are you.”

“Who do we think we are?”

Louis wraps an arm around her shoulder, pulling her close enough to plant a quick kiss on her temple. Together they head into the admin building, passing the common room to make the slow climb up the stairs.

“So, where exactly are we going?” she asks. “Because if it’s to play piano, we missed our turn.”

Louis winks back at her. “You’ll see.”

“You have another secret piano that I don’t know about?”

“I wish, but no.”

When he brings her through a blocked-off hallway, they have to climb over a bunch of furniture and debris. She damn near gets stuck, but Louis is able to lift her up with ease. He’s gotten good at that.

She’s never been through this part of the school. It’s more decrepit than the main parts of the school she sees every day. From what she can tell, the rooms aren’t classrooms, but maybe they used to be offices? Who knows, most of the lettering on the plaques are falling apart.

At the end of the hall, there’s a ladder leading through a hole in the ceiling.

“Uhm…?

“I take it you’ve never been to the attic?” he asks, noting her puzzlement.

“Nope. I didn’t even know this place had one.”

“It’s pretty spooky up there. Lot’s of big spiders, maybe a couple of bats, and possibly a boogeyman. And a lot of old teacher shit,” Louis gives a disgusted shiver. “I think the headmaster kept some of his things up here, too. Been a while since I’ve snooped around.”

“You want to look through the headmaster’s things, or are we here to fight this boogeyman?”

“No, and no,” Louis smirks, and tosses his pillows up one at a time before stepping aside and motions for her to go first.

“Are you sure this thing’s stable?” she asks, wigging the ladder. Dust puffs all around it. It clearly hasn’t been used in a long time.

“No,” he replies, “but I’ll be right here to catch you if you fall.”

“And what if we both fall?”

“Then I’ll break your fall, and you’ll break my ribs.”

She rolls her eyes. “Great.”

It’s tricky climbing such a steep ladder, but he’s right behind her to keep her steady.

The musty heat of the attic hits her first, nearly making her gag. It’s not as dark as she expected, but there is something eerie about the unknown shadows of everything stored up here. It's the kind of place where your eyes play tricks on you, making you believe things are all around you, ready to pounce. She gets another whiff of something moldy and wrinkles her nose. Dirt and dust stick to her legs and shorts, and her hand brushes something sticky, like a bundle of webs. God, she hopes she doesn’t get spiders in her hair. It’s longer and curlier than it’s ever been, and she doesn’t even have her hat to protect it.

“This is…” she trails off.

“Super romantic?” Louis questions as he climbs up the ladder. She doesn’t even need to see him to know amusement's plastered all over his face.

“No. Not even a little. It’s gross.”

Louis laughs, helping her up to wipe the grime off her back.

“Not much has changed,” he says, peering around. “Except I think something died up here? Though I don’t think I need to know for sure, and that’s not why we’re here anyway.”

He leads her over to one of the double windows, the one with the least amount of breakage. Grunting, he tries to force the rusted lock to detach. She gets a good grip on the other end, and on the count of three, they pull. Once loose, the window slides up with little effort. The problem is the remaining glass. It cracks and drops to the wooden floor, shattering.

“Damn it,” Louis curses, doing his best to kick the shards out of the way. “Here, I’ll go first, just watch where you step. That’ll go right through your slipper.”

“Yeah, that’s what I need. An infection in my other foot,” she mumbles more to herself, but Louis snorts a dry laugh anyway. She hands him the pillows and her crutches before bending through the open window herself.

It leads to the balcony overlooking the entire yard. It’s much bigger than the broken balcony outside the office, the one beneath them. It’s perhaps more than twice its size. Finally, the stench of the attic is gone with the brush of the wind. Not too strong, but enough to cool the dampness of her skin. She closes her eyes, breathing it in.

“Y’know, if we told Ruby about what’s in there, she’d have a heyday tearing it apart,” says Louis.

“She’d make you help her clean it out.”

“Well, hey, let’s not get too crazy,” Louis laughs. “I think she’d rather have Aasim’s help. It can be their special project.”

“Oh yeah, I’m sure he’d love that.”

Clementine’s never been up here on this balcony. She always wondered how to get up here and what the purpose of it is. Why have two dormers of the slanted roof leading to an unusable balcony?

Hell, when Mitch and Aasim hung the threatening banner across the admin building for the raid, she assumed they climbed up from the outside. She had no idea the windows opened from inside the attic.

“Huh…”

Turning from the roof, she heads to the end of the balcony. From here she can see far over their walls and through the miles of trees that are nothing more than black silhouettes against the lightening sky. It’s not the highest point overlooking the school, but it’s enough to make her a bit woozy when she looks straight down over the edge.

“Wow.”

“Pretty nice, huh?” Louis says over his shoulder. “It’s a wonder we don’t come up here anymore. The view is worth braving the attic.”

Realizing he’s not standing with her, Clementine curiously watches him throw the pillow onto the pitched roof. They slide down a little before sticking against the worn and sun-damaged tiles. She knows there isn’t anything flat on top, though. It’s an edge, so what’s he doing?

“Uh, Louis?”

“Tell me something, Clem,” he says, bracing himself against the wall of the dormer as he climbs the slope. He climbs on top of it with ease, snatching back the pillows as he asks, “When was the last time you woke up early, sat down, and enjoyed a good sunrise?”

The question isn’t what Clementine expected. Truth be told, she’s watched the sunrise many times. All those sleepless nights that occupied her thoughts tonight, they all ended with her watching with a pit in her stomach as the sunrise brought morning.

But thinking about it now, she hasn’t watched a sunrise since…

“Well, the last sunrise I saw was when I was bitten,” she says slowly. “AJ and I walked through the woods and didn’t stop until morning, but I guess that doesn’t really count. I wasn’t sitting… and I wasn’t paying too much attention to it. I was worried about other things.”

Louis is quiet, and she can tell he’s panicking, second-guessing himself.

“I’m sorry,” he finally says. “I uh… I didn’t mean to bring that up. I forgot that you… shit.”

“No, no,” she shakes her head, moving away from the edge. “Louis, it’s okay. I know.” She sets her crutches against the other dormer and smiles. “You gonna help me up?”

Relief loosens his shoulders, and he grins back. She can still see the uncertainty lining his dark eyes, and makes a note to reassure him once she gets up there.

Locking his hand with hers, Louis helps pull her up to him. He loops an arm around her waist, and with ease, she’s sitting on top of the dormer's roof, facing him. She can see why he brought pillows. This would be painful without them. It takes them a moment of shifting and fussing with the pillows before they find a comfortable position. Facing where the sun would eventually rise, they sit close with their legs laying off the side.

They both catch their breaths, and Clementine places a hand over his that rests comfortably on her thigh.

“You good? How’s your leg?’ he asks.

“A little sore, but that’s nothing new.” She brings his wrist to her lips. “Thank you.”

He chuckles a bit, tipping his head forward as if to hide his smile. That wouldn’t do. Leaning forward, Clementine caught his lips with hers for a quick kiss, only for it to be broken when she nearly lost her balance.

“Don’t fall off!” he exclaims, clutching her waist. “If you fall, I’m gonna have to fall after you, and it’ll be embarrassing when the others find us all mangled up here.”

"Don't worry, I'll break your fall."

"Ha ha."

She follows his gaze to the sky.

It’s light blue now, almost a cool gray with wisps of burgundy clouds, and all the stars are gone. It’s peaceful, the ambiance of rustling leaves and birds chirping their morning songs soothing. The breeze even brings with it a chill that tingles through her arms.

It’s so much different up here than it was in the dorms, or even just in the yard. It’s crazy to her that not an hour ago, she was lying in her bed, uncomfortable… overwhelmed. Now, the smallest bit of glow teases behind the trees, and she can only think about how Louis’ hand in hers makes her chest swell.

It’s easier to keep those unwanted thoughts away, and she wonders if it’s silly to think that the thoughts can’t find her up this high. As if those miserable, painful memories couldn’t always find her.

Everything matters, and yet up here, so does nothing, and she’s strangely happy about that.

The radiating light blooms, warming blues into purples and oranges, light bleeding through the trees onto the grounds of Ericson. An amber cast washes over them and the dark rooftop.

It’s never looked like this before. Or if it did, she ignored it for years.

Clementine steals a glance at Louis, admiring the glow against his freckled skin. It reflects in his dark eyes. Her heart quickens. She always thought of him handsome, and he only grew more so the closer they became over the years.

But sitting here with him on the roof of the admin building, watching dawn break all the colors of the world, she could only think of him as beautiful. Not just because of his looks, or even the things he said to her tonight or any other night. It’s in the way he holds himself and who he was and who he became. It’s the way he smiles not only with his lips, but with his eyes. She trusts him. She hasn’t felt so safe in the arms of another since she was a little girl hugging her parents or entrusting her life with Lee, and that meant everything to her.

“We don’t have to talk about what’s bothering you,” Louis says suddenly. “I just want you to know that I’m here, okay?”

He’s watching her now, studying her now that he’s caught her staring.

“It doesn’t matter,” she manages, voice coming out much shakier than intended.

“Yes, it does.”

“I don’t want to think about the past.”

Louis kisses her wrist. “Okay.”

That’s more than enough reason for her to lean over and hug him, and when his arms wrap around her, she decides she wants to stay up here. She’d give up sleeping in, her worst habit, to do this again.

He kisses her slow, hand brushing the back of her neck to curl in her hair. She shivers, bringing him closer than before to deepen the kiss. They’ve done this hundreds of times before, but kissing Louis never fails to make her forget everything else, even if only for a fleeting second.

Nothing else. Just right now.

"Clementine."

This moment.

His lips on hers.

The sun. The morning air.

These feelings.

Like every day, the sun rises, and it’s another day.

#[against all odds your hand in is mine]#twdg clouis #twdg clementine #twdg louis #clouis #clementine twdg #louis twdg #twdg louisentine #louisentine #summer: clouis #thank you for reading #it's super appreciated! :D #twdg fanfics #twdg fanfiction

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seokra · 4 years

Text

IF YOU LET ME | PART 6 (JJK)

Series: If You Let Me

Pairings: Jungkook x Reader, Hoseok x Reader, Hoseok x OC

Genre: Angst, Love triangle, Unrequited Love

Word Count: 2374

WARNINGS: None.

A/N: Jimin and Jungkook are the best boys 🥺. That’s all.

You wake up from the sunlight streaming through your bedroom curtains landing on your face. You stretch out your limbs and sit up, instantly regretting the sudden movement because you’re hit with a terrible headache, making you groan as you cradle your head in your hands. You rub your swollen eyes before you look around your room and spot a glass of water and a couple of pain relief tablets sitting on your bedside table. You immediately swallow the pills and chug the entire glass of water, and then you slowly start to get out of bed. You wince once you try to stand, forgetting about your swollen ankle. You slowly limp towards your door, opening it and you’re immediately met with the smell of bacon and pancakes, making your empty stomach grumble.

“Good morning, sleepyhead! How are you this fine morning?” Jimin greets with you his dazzling smile as you hobble into your kitchen.

“I feel like death,” you croak out, voice strained from all of the crying you did the night before.

Jimin chuckles at your response as he plates up the food. “Hungry?” he asks you as you sit down at your tiny dining table.

“Starving,” you reply.

Jimin sets a plate in front of you before he heads back to your kitchen. “Would you like a cup of water or orange juice, Love?”

“Coffee, please,” you answer with a mouth full of pancakes.

“You got it!”

Jimin returns with a cup of coffee for the both of you before sitting down across the table from you. “I heard you had a rough night,” Jimin mentions, taking a bite of syrup covered pancakes.

You furrow your brows trying to remember the events of last night, but all you can remember is Hoseok introducing his girlfriend to everyone. Everything else is a blur after that. Your heart sinks at the memory and you start to feel tears sting your eyes, but before your emotions can take over, you blink them away and exhale a shaky breath.

“How did I get home last night?” you inquire.

“Jungkook took you home, do you not remember that?”

You shake your head, still trying to piece together your memory.

“He actually spent the night…” Jimin informs you.

“He did?” you question in confusion. “Why?”

“He said you asked him to stay,” he shrugs.

“Oh.”

“You really don’t remember anything last night?”

“Well… I remember Hoseok and…” you trail off, not able to finish the sentence in fear you might break down. Jimin solemnly nods his head, turning his attention back to his breakfast.

As you sit there pushing your food around, the image of Jungkook holding you flashes in your mind. The way he caressed your cheek to wipe your tears away. You look down at your bandaged ankle and remember Jungkook taking care of your injuries.

“Where did he go?”

“Hoseok-hyung?”

“No, Jungkook.”

“Oh, he had something to do this morning. He said he’ll be back to check on you later. For now, you’re stuck with me,” Jimin grins, causing you to weakly smile back. “So, what would you like to do today, Love? Should we go for a walk and get some fresh air?”

“I don’t think I can,” you say motioning to your injured leg.

“Oh that’s right!” Jimin laughs, throwing his head back covering his mouth full of food. “Jungkook told me about that. We can’t take your drunk ass anywhere!”

You roll your eyes at his teasing and continue to eat your breakfast.

“I guess we’ll spend the day in and put some ice on that bad boy.”

Jungkook’s POV

He walks up to his apartment door and is about to stick his key into the lock when it suddenly swings open. He’s met with Hoseok kissing Ryujin, trying to convince her to stay. She’s trying to squirm out of his hold giggling that she has to meet her friends for brunch. Hoseok spots the younger man from his peripheral and immediately lets go of Ryujin causing her to turn and face Jungkook, too, face flushed.

“Oh, hey, Kook,” Hoseok greets.

“Hi,” Ryujin shyly offers, pulling her hair behind her ear. Jungkook just stands there eyes wide.

“Call me when you get home okay, babe?” Hoseok says to Ryujin as she makes her way past Jungkook. She glances back and acknowledges Hoseok, waving goodbye before disappearing down the hall. Jungkook’s face falls into a scowl as he pushes past the older man.

“Whoa. What’s the matter with you?” Hoseok questions.

“Don’t worry about it,” Jungkook answers, briskly walking to his bedroom.

“Whatever, man.” Hoseok closes their front door and moves to sit on the couch.

Jungkook reemerges a few moments later with a duffle bag of clothes and toiletries.

“Where are you going?” Hoseok asks.

“I’m gonna be staying at Y/N’s for a few days until she feels better.”

“She’s sick?”

Jungkook walks out of the apartment, ignoring Hoseok’s question. Hoseok is left on the couch worried about your well-being. He pulls out his phone and immediately shoots you a text.

Y/N POV

You stare at your phone screen for a while. Heart breaking from seeing his name pop up. You contemplate on whether or not you should reply, but before you could, Jimin takes your phone out of your hands.

“Hey!” you protest.

“Ah-ah, no phones out while we’re watching a movie,” Jimin scolds. He places a bag of frozen vegetables on your ankle that has been resting on a pillow atop your coffee table. You cross your arms and lean into your couch as Jimin sits down and starts the move he’s chosen. It’s some indie comedy you’ve never heard of but he insists you watch it because the main girl is pretty.

When you’re focused on the movie, Jimin discreetly pulls out your phone and looks to see who you were texting. Brows pinch together in disapproval when he sees Hobi’s message. He rolls his eyes and exits the thread, stuffing your phone back into his pocket. He scoots over and rests an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him in a snuggle. You’re halfway through the movie when Jungkook enters your apartment.

“Hey,” he says as he places some bags on your kitchen counter.

“Did you get what I asked for?” Jimin asks as he bounces to his feet, walking towards Jungkook.

“Yep. Some chicken porridge and a tub of dark fudge ice cream,” he answers, holding up the contents in the bags.

You look down and spot his duffle bag. “Are you staying over again?” you question.

“Uh, I was planning on it. Yeah..” Jungkook sheepishly answers, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. “Un-unless you don’t want me to.”

“Oh, no. It’s fine. I don’t mind,” you shoot him a small smile.

“Great! Now that we’re all here, I’ll prepare the soup and you can join Y/N on the couch,” Jimin instructs Jungkook, who just nods his head in acknowledgement before sitting down beside you.

“How’s your ankle?” Jungkook asks.

“Oh, it’s still swollen, but I’ll be fine. Thank you for taking care of me last night. I’m sure I was a mess.”

“Yeah you were! Jungkook and I practically dragged you out of the bar!” Jimin chimes in, handing you a bowl of porridge.

“Shut up,” you huff.

“Kook, you should have seen the way she struggled to walk this morning!” Jimin practically falls over from the memory.

“Shut up!” you throw a pillow at his head causing him to only laugh more.

“Okay! Okay! I’ll stop,” Jimin holds up his hands in surrender as he gets comfortable in the armchair adjacent to you.

“You’re not eating?” you ask.

Jimin shakes his head, “Nope. The porridge is all for you. It’ll help detox all that alcohol you consumed last night,” he laughs.

“What about you?” you say, turning towards Jungkook.

“I, uh, I already ate.”

You roll your eyes at your friends before you bring a spoonful of soup to your lips.

Once you’ve finished eating, Jimin takes your bowl back to the kitchen and quickly washes it. When he returns, your head is laying on Jungkook’s lap and he’s absentmindedly petting your hair. He chuckles to himself, shaking his head as he plops back down in the armchair. You’re starting to feel the weight of the day on your eyelids and they start to flutter shut as the movie nears its end.

Jungkook’s POV

By the time the credits roll, Jungkook hears our light snores from his lap. He stops petting your hair and instead brushes a few strands out of your face. He smiles at the sight of your peaceful face. He wants to plant a kiss onto your cheeks and is about to when Jimin speaks, reminding him he’s not alone with you.

“So when are you gonna tell her?”

“Tell her what?”

Jimin rolls his eyes before quirking his eyebrow in a knowing look. “You know what.”

Jungkook stares back with his large doe eyes, mouth opening and closing trying to figure out what to say, but Jimin starts giggling at his flustered state. “Just don’t wait too long to let her know how you feel. You don’t want to miss your opportunity.”

Jungkook nods in acknowledgement before turning his attention back to your sleeping figure. He runs his fingers through your hair causing a soft hum to emit from your lips.

“How was she today?” he asks the blonde haired boy.

“She was okay. There were a few moments I could tell she was going to start crying but you know how she is. She fought it back and remained strong.”

Jungkook couldn’t help but smile a little at that. You hated feeling vulnerable and did everything you could to remain strong and it was one of your qualities he admired. He hopes that one day he’ll be able to break down your emotional barriers. He wants you to be able to be comfortable enough to let him see all sides of you, even your ugly sides. He wants to become your safe space. Someone you can count on to make you feel better, like a breath of fresh air.

“Thank you for coming over to keep her company today, Jimin-ssi.”

“I would have come over here today to check on her anyways, so no worries,” he waves off Jungkook’s appreciation.

Jimin stays for another movie with Jungkook while you’re still fast asleep. Some time through the movie Jungkook fell asleep, too. Jimin didn’t notice until Jungkook slowly fell over, head landing on your hip, lips slightly parted. Jimin chuckles to himself at how adorable the two of you look. He decides to take a quick photo of the two of you sleeping on top of each other before he grabs a couple of blankets for you both. He takes off the thawed out bag of vegetables from your ankle and cleans up your apartment a little bit before he leaves, setting your phone down on your coffee table.

Y/N POV

Your apartment is dark when you awake. You stretch your limbs and feel Jungkook shift, his head falling onto the couch cushion. He grumbles a little but stays asleep. You sit up and rub the sleep from your eyes, spotting your phone on the coffee table. You move to grab it and instantly squint your eyes from the light that emits from the screen. The time reads 00:43 and you have a few missed messages from Hobi. You decide to ignore them for now. You slowly get off the couch, trying your best not to wake Jungkook. Standing up, you wince a little at the pain shooting from your ankle. You hop on one leg as you readjust the blanket around his figure and slowly limp your way to your bedroom. As soon as you lie down, your phone rings.

Jungkook’s POV

He had woken up a little when he felt you move off the couch. He felt you fix the blanket over him and he heard you shut your bedroom door. He stays laying on the couch, staring at your ceiling when he hears your phone ring. Curious, he quietly makes his way to your bedroom door, slowly leaning his ear on to your door to hear who you’re talking to.

“How are you?”

“I’m fine, Hobi. what do you want?” you ask him, sounding annoyed.

“I just wanted to check on you, ‘cause y’know… Jungkook said you weren’t feeling well. Where is he by the way?”

“He’s asleep on the couch. Why does that matter?”

“You have him on the couch?” Hoseok laughs. “I’ve never had to sleep on your couch before.”

“Yeah, well you never stayed long enough to have to.”

“Would you have let me if I did?” he flirts.

You sigh. “How’s your girlfriend, Hobi?”

“Good I guess. I haven’t talked to her since she left my place this morning.”

“Don’t you think you should check up on her?”

“Now why would I do that when my friend is under the weather?”

“I can’t do this right now… I’m tired. I’m gonna go to bed. Good night Hobi.”

“Call me tomorrow, alright, Peaches?”

Jungkook steps back from your door, frustrated. He’s debating on whether or not he should barge in and ask if you’re gonna go back to Hoseok after everything he’s just put you through. He decides to leave you be. You sounded like you weren’t that interested in Hoseok’s antics at the moment, so be turns to leave, but halts in his steps when he hears you whimper. He quickly opens your door and you’re curled in a ball beneath your blankets, shoulders visibly trembling even under the layers. Jungkook hurriedly rushes to the other side of your bed cuddling you to his chest as you cry for the second night. He holds you tight in his arms until you squirm, gazing up at him.

“Why does he have to do this to me? Why can’t he just leave me alone?”

“Shh, shh. It’s okay. I’ll talk to him,” he promises.

You steady your breathing as you press your cheek into his chest. The two of you lay in silence until sleep takes over you again.

#jungkook x reader #hoseok x reader #jungkook angst #bts fanfiction #Hoseok angst #bts angst #bts smut #Jungkook smut #Hoseok smut #jungkook f2l #love triangle au #unrequited love #if you let me series

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knifewieldingenby · 4 years

Text

a heart’s a heavy burden, part one

Incubus Jaskier, fic warning: very minor discussions about sex but no smut (I’m saving that for chapter two if you’d like to skip it. Mentions of energy starvation.

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Jaskier had been at Kaer Morhen for two months when things started to get strange. He woke up dizzy and nauseous, stumbling around the room to get clothes over his cold body. He felt hungry all the time but even the thought of food was making him sick. And his head, his damn head, felt like it was full of bees.

At first he thought it was just a cold. After all, it was certainly chilly enough in the keep to catch one easily. He wandered the halls wrapped in thick furs, sat by the fire with Lambert plastered to his side most evenings, stealing each other’s body heat. The other wolves teased them relentlessly, even Geralt, though he could see a hint of concern in the White Wolf’s eyes every now and again. But he’d had colds, and none of them felt as consuming as this. Nor did it feel like the flu; despite the dizziness and full head he was still able to move around the keep, could still eat when his stomach finally threw a fit. This was something...else.

He knew something was seriously wrong when he started getting angry for no reason. Every sound, every light, every laugh that rang out in the keep pissed him off. When Lambert tried to tease him about his hair (of all things) one morning he issued a swift “fuck off” that bit so hard it left Lambert in silence. The worst part was that Jaskier didn’t even feel bad about it. It didn’t make him feel any better, either. He felt like a powder keg, on the edge of exploding any second about the smallest of things. It wasn’t like him at all.

“I don’t feel so good,” Jaskier finally got up the courage to say one morning as he hobbled down to join the wolves hours after they’d woken up. The truth was, he didn’t want to bother them with his human problems. He didn’t want Geralt to regret bringing him here.

“I noticed,” Geralt said. It was Eskel that approached him and gently touched Jaskier’s forehead with the back of his hand. He hummed and cocked his head a little.

“You have a low grade fever, that’s for sure. Maybe you should still be in bed.”

Jaskier nodded. Bed sounded good. He had forced himself to get up this morning - though he suspected it wasn’t actually morning anymore - but if he’d had his way he would have stayed in bed all day. His head felt heavy all of a sudden and he swayed in place. He felt an arm on him a moment later and he was aware he was moving, practically being dragged up to his room.

“I’ll bring you food later,” came Geralt’s voice. His vision faded in and out but he forced himself to keep his eyes on the man, who was now visibly worried. Before he knew it they were in his room and Geralt was positioning him in bed. “How do you feel?”

“Hungry.”

Geralt smiled slightly. “I’m sure. I can get you some food now-”

“No.” It came out somewhere between a whine and a growl, and Jaskier had the good sense to look embarrassed. Geralt nodded slowly, eyes full of confusion.

“Okay, when you wake up then.” He looked down and grabbed Jaskier’s hand. “Take these off, it can’t be comfortable.” And then he was slipping Jaskier’s rings off his finger one at a time. He got to the last one on his left hand, iridescent pink and blue, a remnant of his childhood, and clamped his finger down hard.

“I never take that one off,” he said coldly. Thankfully Geralt didn’t push him on it; he squeezed his hand and placed it back on the bed.

“Okay. Sleep well. I’ll be back later.”

Jaskier closed his eyes and felt the heavy weight of sleep consume him. Before he succumbed, he thought back to his ring. His mother gifted it to him when he was eight, maybe nine - he no longer knew how long he’d had it, but he never once took it off. It grew with him as his mother promised, by merit of the magic whirling inside it. ‘It’ll keep you safe from those who wish to hurt you,’ she’d said. She never clarified beyond that and after a while he stopped asking. The few times he thought about taking it off he felt the strong pull of magic and thought he’d better not.

Now he grabbed the ring and pulled. It slipped off with surprisingly little resistance. He placed it on the night stand with his other rings, turned onto his side, and let sleep take him.

---

When he finally woke again it was night and Geralt was sitting on the edge of the bed with a bowl in his hands. Jaskier felt like he was using all the strength in him just to sit up, his eyes taking a minute to focus. The room was dim, a small fire lit in the fireplace. He zeroed in on Geralt and squinted.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” It’s not his fault the question came out aggressive and demanding; he’d tried for gentle and his brain told him to fuck right off with that.

“Eat,” he ordered. Jaskier’s stomach turned. He hadn’t eaten anything since last night, and even then he’d only had a small scoop of stew. Food sounded like a bad idea, and yet he felt famished. Still, he took the bowl and, under Geralt’s watchful eyes, ate a few spoonfuls. He held the bowl out to Geralt when he felt his stomach couldn’t take anymore and Geralt took it without a fight, placing it back on the table.

“You took your ring off,” he noted.

“Yeah, I figured I’d worn it since I was a kid and it was time to free my finger, so to speak.”

“Hmm.” He stood up quickly and headed for the door. “I need to speak with Eskel and Lambert for a moment. Try to get some more food in you if you can.”

Jaskier waited patiently for Geralt to return, confused but too tired to worry about it. When he heard multiple footsteps down the hall he sighed. He really wasn’t in the mood to talk to people right now.

“Holy shit, you really weren’t kidding.” Jaskier looked up to where Lambert was entering the room, followed closely by Eskel and Geralt. Geralt growled a warning at him and he laughed. “Sorry, but I definitely thought you were making shit up.”

“Stop talking,” Eskel said. He came closer to Jaskier and sat at the end of the bed. “This is...certainly new.”

Jaskier was only getting more confused by the minute. Him eating soup was new? Being in bed? Being sick? Of fucking course it was new, he hadn’t been sick his whole time here.

“What’s new?” He snapped. Lambert chuckled again.

“Guess we know why he’s been in such a shit mood.”

“Lambert, I swear on my sword I will snap you in half.” Geralt grabbed a hand mirror and brought it to Jaskier. “Don’t...ah, just don’t freak out okay?”

Jaskier snatched the mirror from Geralt and oh, that was new. That was very new. He touched his forehead where Eskel had touched him just this afternoon. Instead of a nearly flat surface he was met with two horns that curled up and around his head, close to his hairline, and flicked up at the ends.

Fucking horns.

“What. The fuck.”

“Oh no, he’s freaking out,” Eskel said under his breath. Geralt groaned and shook his head.

“Why did I bother to bring you two up here? You’re making it worse.”

“Geralt.”

Jaskier’s voice shook. Fear bubbled up and over; he was sure the wolves could smell it in the air. He looked at them through brand new eyes. He was...he was a monster, for fuck’s sake, something these men hunted for a living. What were they going to do with him? None of them had their swords, but he knew even in the keep they all kept small daggers on them just in case something happened. And now that something was Jaskier. A monster.

“It’s okay.” Geralt sat next to him, ignoring the way he flinched from the proximity, the way it made Geralt’s heart ache. “I know it’s new, and scary, but you’re okay. You’re safe.”

“But I- I’m a monster, Geralt. How did this happen to me?”

Geralt glanced over at the night table and picked up the iridescent ring. It looked so small in his big hands, looked so small now that it wasn’t on Jaskier’s finger anymore.

“Tell me about this ring.”

“My mother gave it to me. Said it would protect me from people who might hurt me. She made me promise never to take it off, and I haven’t until now.”

“It’s a glamour, isn’t it?” Lambert asked. Geralt nodded.

“Yes, it’s a glamour. Your mother clearly knew your horns would come in eventually and wanted to keep you safe from humans.”

“But what am I if not human?”

“Lemme smell him,” Eskel piped up. Jaskier’s eyes widened. “I have the best sense of smell and you know it.”

To Jaskier’s surprise Geralt moved from his place on the bed and was replaced by Eskel, who smiled sheepishly at him.

“Is this okay with you,” he asked.

Jaskier nodded, a bit shaky and uncertain, but sure that he wanted to know the truth. He’d spent over forty years in the dark. No more. Eskel leaned over, pressing his face into Jaskier’s neck, and breathed in deeply. Jaskier’s eyes closed and he had to bite back the moan that threatened to break free. Hunger roared it’s head and he felt light-headed in a good way this time. He was ashamed when he felt lust creeping up on him. Eskel was certainly beautiful, but he wasn’t the one Jaskier had been pining over all these years.

Eskel and Lambert chuckled in unison and Jaskier blushed, certain they smelled his lust. If they could smell it so could Geralt, and he didn’t want to know what the White Wolf thought about that.

“It’s okay,” Eskel said as he pulled away. “It’s perfectly normal.”

Geralt chimed in. “Is he a-”

“Without a doubt.”

“Will you two stop speaking in code and tell me what the hell I am?!” Eskel and Lambert nodded to Geralt, inviting him to take the reins. He switched spots with Eskel and, to Jaskier’s great surprise, took his hand.

“You’re an Incubus. Half, most likely. I’m guessing your biological father was full Incubus.”

“Huh. That would explain why my father fucking hates me I guess.”

Geralt frowned at that, his eyes flashing with something close to anger. He shook his head and continued.”I’m not surprised this is just hitting you now. Your ring kept your physical traits glamoured and prevented our medallions from sensing you, and you’ve been...very sexual since you were a teenager, I assume. You’ve never gone this long without having sex, have you?” Jaskier shook his head. “Do you feel a hunger that food won’t satisfy?” A nod this time. “That’s because you’ve been starving for energy, an energy you can only get through sexual acts.”

“Okay, I guess I’m with you.” He wasn’t really with him; part of him wanted to laugh in Geralt’s face, tell him, tell them all, that they’d lost their minds, and go back to sleep. Surely when he woke up the horns would be gone and everything would be back to normal. “What do I do about it?”

Silence. Eskel shuffled awkwardly, Lambert grinned, and Geralt glanced down. Jaskier’s eyes must have been deceiving him, because the man looked shy.

“You need to have sex,” he said simply.

#geraskier #geraskier fanfiction #witcher fanfiction #my writing #inhuman jaskier

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boxofbadaddiction · 4 years

Text

Claw Marks

Remus Lupin

No Pairing

Reader Insert - Gender Neutral.

Imagine: Remus finding out one of his students is a Werewolf.

Warnings: IDK...werewolves?

He hadn't picked up on it at first, too occupied with keeping his own 'condition' a secret and, more importantly, under control.

Remaining unknowingly oblivious to the subtle signs they'd been showing.

How fidgety and agitated they'd become around the time of the full moon, often lashing out for no reason - even at close friends. How they seemed incapable of staying awake during breakfast or morning classes. Of the often many fresh cuts that littered their skin. All signs went unnoticed.

Until one fateful day when it all seemed to crash over him like a bucket of ice water.

The class started as normal as any other Thursday; with the exception of Y/n needing to be awoken at their desk.

A sharp jab to their elbow was enough to send their arm off balance, chin falling from it's place against their palm, the sudden drop of y/ns head waking them with a slight fright.

"Thank you for that, Miss Bell. Good Morning, Y/n. I do wish you'd save all sleeping for Professor Binns class rather than before I've even begun my lesson." Remus says sarcastically. "Sorry Professor." Y/n mumbled in reply sitting at attention. "Excellent. Although thankfully, given today's topic, I don't believe any of you will be at risk of nodding off."

The class shared an amused chuckle while y/n merely managed a tight lipped smile.

There was a brief knock at the door as Professor Flitwick and Mr Filch entered the room with a large, rattling, wardrobe.

"Perfect timing!" Lupin spoke as the cupboard was deposited at the front of the class and the students were made to stand as the teachers cleared all their desks to the sides of the room. "Today, class, we will be learning about Boggarts."

After a quick introduction of what a Boggart is and how to repel one, the students were made to form a line. As the music carried out it's loud melody and their turn inevitably drew near y/ns body filled with dread.

They hesitated, not wanting to step any closer to the creature in fear their secret be revealed, but with a nudge from the person behind them and encouragement from Professor Lupin they did.

The Boggart took it's time analysing the new arrival before finally transforming. In it's place now stood a great snarling beast with glowing yellow eyes and gruesome, bared, teeth.

Y/n froze. As did many members of the class all of whom drew a sharp breath at the sight. It were truly terrifying.

Y/ns expression bore one of pure fear. Face turning pale as the blood rushed from their head. Shock took over Lupin as well, not having expected one of his students to produce a nightmare quite so frightening. The nightmare he were forcibly living.

Remus took a step forward readying to intervene as he noted the way y/ns wand arm shook in fear.

But to his surprise, with their eyes squeezing tightly shut and head turning back over their shoulder, y/n shouts quickly "Ridikulus!" casting the charm.

The approaching beast is suddenly changed; now in a vivid pink tutu, aimlessly cycling in circles on a miniature tricycle, the image completed by a multicoloured party hat upon it's head.

The previously stunned class erupts into a fit of laughter. The sound filling y/n with enough courage to look back at the scene playing out before them. An astonished and relieved sigh falls from their mouth before joining in and laughing with the class.

Lupin is beyond impressed, barely able to contain his excitement he yells, "BRILLIANT, Y/n! Truly brilliant! NEXT!" His joy however, is short lived as all that previous worry that'd clouded his mind is brought rushing back.

Y/n spun excitedly in place, smiling widely, their robes shifting with the momentum to reveal a large scar from the base of their neck, presumably, stretching right along to their shoulder as it traced their collarbone. Claw marks. Unmistakably - claw marks.

Lupins face drops briefly before he's quickly painting back on a fake smile. After that the signs weren't so subtle anymore.

Not wanting to get ahead of himself and draw wrong conclusions he confronts Dumbledore with his suspicions.

"Headmaster, I wondered if I might be able to have a word?"

"Of course, Remus. You may have more than one if you so desire." Dumbledore responds from his place at his desk, looking down over his half-moon glasses with a grin.

"It's about a student of my 5th year class...y/n y/l/n?" "Ah, yes." Lupin watches Albus expectantly but he does not continue so Remus does, "I couldn't help but notice they possess certain qualities that are remarkably similar to my own." Dumbledore nods in acknowledgement but remains silent. "Would I be out of my depth in assuming they-that they're..." "like you are?" The Headmaster finishes for him. Remus swallows thickly as he watches him intently.

"You would not. Be out of depth, that is. Y/n is indeed a Werewolf."

Remus takes a deep breath. He knew he was right in his assumptions but to hear it be confirmed is a different thing entirely. Like a truth one would never hope to be true. A flood of emotions overtakes him; some shock. Sympathy and sadness - as he knows what they are going through. And quite a bit of anger towards the man infront of him.

"You didn't think it necessary to inform me of this?" He glares. "That would have been against their, and their parents, wishes. When they told me of y/ns condition they were adamant in no one else knowing - less word spread, I agreed to respect their wish so I couldn't tell you. Were you to discover this on your own however-" "so you've just been sitting around waiting for me to piece the puzzle together?" "To be frank, Remus, I'm rather surprised it took you this long."

Anger and frustration are bubbling over in Lupin at this point as he turns his back on Albus. It's taking all his strength not to lash out at the old man like he desperately wants to.

"They're taking necessary precautions, Remus, if that is what's troubling you." "No, Headmaster. What's troubling me is that they are suffering with this condition on their own." He speaks through gritted teeth. "Yes, I have an idea of how unpleasant it must be." That comment alone pushes Remus' temper to it's limit.

"With all due respect, Albus..." he turns back to face him with daggers held behind his eyes, "you have no idea. You could not possibly imagine the difficulty of enduring the effects of lycanthropy - especially not at such a young age."

"Do you forget who assisted you in your transformations during school?"

"I do not, Professor. Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs helped me through every full moon. Although you may have offered a place to do so safely, you did not assist me in my change. It were James, Sirius and Peter who were there for me. And if what you say is true - that you are the only person in this school who knows - y/n doesn't even have that. A fact of which I am truly sorry for."

Not waiting for a response Remus storms from Dumbledores office.

As the next full moon approaches Remus prepares himself for the night. Locking himself in his office and drinking the Wolfsbane potion Severus prepared for him to make the change a little easier.

As the sun sets for the day he watches as the final rays disappearing beneath the horizon paint the Black Lake in brilliant hues of gold and cream. It's a picture perfect scene when something suddenly draws his attention.

A student decending into the forbidden forest. Y/n.

His body urges him to follow, but in little time he'll be in no position to offer help and, given the fact his theories have been proven correct, y/n will be in no state to accept.

When morning dawns he resumes his place by the window, mind fixed on only one thing. One person. The same person whom he witnesses hobbling back out of the forest along the very path they'd entered.

That day he calls y/n into his office and explains everything. How he found out. How he's the same. How he can help.

Y/n breaks down in front of him. Years of carrying this weight on such young shoulders finally met it's peak and took it's toll.

That night Remus offers Y/n the goblet of Wolfsbane to make the transition a little easier. It'll be the first time they get to change without suffering an excruciating amount of pain. It'll also be the first time in months Remus will be forced to endure it.

The change that night as the moon rises would be different than any before...

"Remus, have you taken your potion tonight?" Sirius grips his shoulders tightly as he speaks the words frantically. "You know the man you truly are, Remus. This heart is where you truly lie. This heart here." Padfoot beats against Moonys chest as he watches his features slowly morph into the grotesque creature that forever lurkes within.

All words are dull in Remus' ears as the pain blinds his senses and he feels himself start to lose control.

The image of Y/n is the last thing to flash before his eyes and at least his mind is eased in the knowledge that, for the first time, their transformation will be bearable.

A final comforting thought before the beast inevitably takes over.

#harry potter imagine #remus lupin imagine #harry potter #remus lupin

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moon-yeongjun · 3 years

Text

Cat Got Your Tongue? || Moon Princess + Ting-Ting

Summary: On the morning of September 22, Jun races off to Ting-Ting’s in search of a solution to his little furry problem.

@princess-haru-chan

@princess-ting-ting

@moon-yeongtae

JUN: Jun was a cat.

Unfortunately, this fact had not changed during the frantic drive from the Moon Farm into town. Jun did not suddenly wake from this horrible nightmare to find himself hungover from last night’s Chuseok celebrations with a cough in his throat, rather than a hairball. But no! Instead he sat in Haru’s lap the entire way into town, though he took every opportunity there was a bump in the road to dig his claws into her thighs. Just a little revenge, though naturally he blamed his brother’s terrible (illegal!!!) driving.

And so he arrived at the Qins house as a cat. Yes, in one piece, but maybe getting run over would have been preferable.

Kidding.

Maybe.

It depended on how this early morning emergency magical consult went.

And it was early. Unfortunately, it wasn’t even 7 am yet, and Jun’s phone was probably under the couch somewhere ( he hoped? Honestly, where had his clothes gone?! Would Eomma find them and think the worst?) so they hadn’t been able to ring Ting-Ting beforehand. Jun just had to hope for the best-- namely, that she was a morning person, who saw this kind of thing (spontaneously cursed into the form of a cat) a lot.

So Jun leaped from Haru’s lap as soon as the truck’s door was open and dashed to the front of Ting-Ting’s house. “Hurry up, hurry up!” he hissed at both Haru and Tae as they clambered out too. Tae reached down to pick Jun up, but Jun bat his hand away. “Think about it and die!” he hissed.

Haru just rolled her eyes and then reached forward to knock on the door persistently, until it opened.

Instantly, Jun meowed first, despite how pointless an effort this was. “Ting-Ting, ah, thank god it’s you! Oh, we apologize for coming so early, but I need your help! Tell her, tell her!”

HARU: Haru wasn’t a cat, but she sure wished she was.

If she was a cat, she wouldn’t have claw marks in her thighs and she wouldn’t have to worry about translating for a very grumpy Jun-cat so humans could understand him. That was maybe the worst part of this whole thing so far because Jun-cat wasn’t a very nice cat. He hissed a lot, used his claws, and was not above using his teeth.

Haru tried for a bit, asking Tae to slow down and watch how he was taking corners, but every time Haru translated something, Tae would look down at Jun and smile at him which made Jun more angry and ended up hurting her legs even more. She stopped translating around the time Jun started threatening to never let Tae drive again and didn’t pick up again until Ting-Ting opened the door.

“Hello,” Haru said, shushing Jun-cat as he batted at her ankles. “I don’t know if you remember me but--”

“Jun-hyung is a cat!” Tae blurted, covering up his giggle with his hand. Haru wasn’t sure when he went from anxious and worried to thinking the whole thing was funny, but she supposed laughing was better than hyperventilating.

She turned and looked back at Ting-Ting.

“He’s not wrong,” she said. “This is Jun.” Haru gestured at the handsome black cat currently hissing at her. “He wants me to tell you he would really appreciate any help you can give him.”

Haru offered Ting-Ting an apologetic smile. “Sorry if we woke you.”

TING-TING:

Ting-Ting would like to say that she was up bright and early, but the truth was, she was actually fast asleep when the doorbell rang. At first she thought it was part of her dream (and it was a very good dream, actually, where she was a character in Dragon Age and — okay, that was besides the point), but then it rang again, and again, and finally Ting-Ting realized that oh, someone was at her door before 7 am and maybe it was serious.

Blinking away sleep, she grabbed a robe and made her way to the door, hoping that Mei and Su were still asleep.

She had no idea who it could be, but she certainly wasn’t expecting a hissing, spitting cat. She certainly wasn’t expecting Jun’s brother to blurt out that the cat was Jun. Slowly, she blinked. She looked at the woman, who she’d definitely seen around at Moon Market, but could not remember the name of, then looked at the cat.

“Oh my God,” said Ting, and she opened the door wider.

Immediately there was a bark. Key came sprinting down the stairs, her tail wagging furiously, as she caught the scent of a cat. Tiptoeing behind Key was Princess Kevin, who meowed curiously, but remained a safe distance away from Jun the Cat. Ting did her best to block off Key with her leg, while still ushering her guests in.

“Sorry it’s a bit of a menagerie in here,” she apologized. “Uh — sit down, please. I’m gonna make some tea so I don’t look like a total zombie.”

“Ting-Ting!” This was Mu Hou, calling from upstairs. “What’s going on?”

“Just some friends!” said Ting, as loud as she could while not being too loud. “Please don’t wake Mei and Su.”

Key barked. Kevin meowed. MuHou came sliding down the rain of the stairway. Ting wanted to bury her face in a pillow.

Instead, she put the kettle on, then sat down on the couch.

“So… why don’t we start at the beginning? How did … this happen?”

JUN: The relief Jun felt when he saw Ting-Ting lasted approximately… mmm… maybe seven seconds.

And then there was barking.

Every instinct in Jun’s cat-body reacted before his human brain. Because in his perspective: the dog was big, bigger than him, and coming straight for him.

He shrieked. It sounded like a yowl. And without warning, he launched himself up his brother’s leg, scrambling until a flustered Tae finally collected him in his arms, wincing and complaining as soon as Jun’s claws dug through his shirt. Jun could not be blamed for this! There was a massive dog and a strange cat and too many scents! He shivered in fright, never feeling more vulnerable as he did right now. Oh, the privilege of having two legs and standing up right! He missed it, needed to be a human again the way he was supposed to be!

Jun was therefore carried into Ting-Ting’s house and as soon as Tae and Haru sat down, Jun hopped off Tae’s lap but stayed squished at his brother’s side. His eyes tracked onto the loud dog and his ears flattened. If it got so much as one step closer to him…

Was that a monkey?! “What the hell?!” Jun hissed.

Oh, this was so overwhelming!

The best thing to do was get through it as quickly as he could. So as soon as Ting-Ting sat down, he meowed toward Haru. “Well! You should know, you’re the reason I’m like this! Tell her about your… your… cat magic ways!”

“Cat magic?” meowed the cat.

Wait, Jun could understand that? His ears perked and then he groaned, putting a paw up to his face. It was too early in the morning for this.

HARU: Haru wasn’t exactly sure what she was supposed to say. It was hard to think with Jun meowing loudly at her one second and practically yowling the next. Ting-Ting had always seemed very nice when she came into the market, but Jun should know better than most people that it was hard to tell random strangers your life story! Haru had been keeping the cat thing secret so long (mainly because of Jun!) that having him hiss at her to tell Ting-Ting was a little disorienting.

Sure, she knew they’d come here for help, but what if Ting-Ting couldn’t help them? What if Haru told Ting-Ting all about her home and how she was actually a cat and then Ting-Ting simply said she didn’t believe her and kicked them out of her apartment?

Ugh!

“Hush, Jun! I can’t think with you hissing at me all the time. Gosh you’re so whiny as a cat.”

With pink cheeks, Haru turned her attention back to the woman across from her.

“So, um, he said I should tell you how this happened to him, but I don’t actually know. He thinks, and he’s probably right,” she added while looking back over at Jun where he was squished against Tae, “that it has something to do with me being a cat.”

Haru blinked and continued, avoiding Ting-Ting’s gaze. “I, um, I actually come from somewhere else. I think it’s really weird like, portals are involved and everyone where I come from is a cat. I’m actually a princess, my country is called Nihon and I sort of miss it but Swynlake is really nice too and Jun has been so helpful and sweet and…” Haru trailed off, realizing she was rambling. “I don’t know how this happened to him, but I really hope you can help him. Do you think you can?”

TING-TING:

On one hand, Ting-Ting was very flattered that Jun kept coming to her for magical help but on the other hand he kept coming to her with increasingly complicated situations — honestly, she wondered how the heck he managed to get himself caught up in all of this? People taking on other’s appearances?! A world of cats?!

She wondered if there could be use in going to Reza — this seemed like a curse, if she had to guess. Though it didn’t seem malevolent… more like an accident if anything. But transmutations and transformations were absolutely out of Ting’s wheelhouse and honestly, all things considered Jun-as-cat’s internal Yin-Yang balance was pretty fine. Well, at the very least she could probably try to restore his power of speech, but…

She listened as best as she could, trying to formulate some sort of actionable plan — literally anything, when Mu Hou spoke.

“Oh dear,” said Mu Hou. She hobbled into the kitchen, lifting the whistling kettle off the stove and said nothing else.

Ting whipped her head around.

“You only say that when you know more than you’re letting on,” she scolded. “What is it?”

At her feet, Key rested her head, never once taking her eyes off Jun. Kevin aloofly kept his distance, but tilted a head in their direction every so often.

Mu Hou tsked her tongue, as she prepared the tea tray.

“You’re going to have to go back home, dear,” she said, not to Ting, but to Haru. She walked over, setting the tray down on the coffee table. “The only way to reverse this is to return to Nihon — this is a magic that won’t be undone here. I mean, theoretically, it could since — “

“There is in theory a spell for anything,” recited Ting, rolling her eyes a little.

“Yes, but it might take years to decipher. Your best bet, sir,” and here, Mu Hou addressed Jun, “is to go back with this young woman and find someone to remove the spell. They’ll know how to do it there. It’s pretty standard.” She hummed to herself and poured some tea. “But Ting can at least give you your voice back, if you’d like — isn’t that right?”

“Oh yes,” said Ting, standing up. “I can prep the spell for that if you don’t mind waiting a bit.”

JUN: Wait wait wait. This monkey said what?

First of all, Jun was quite unsatisfied with Haru’s explanation. It left out most of the important facts in his opinion! Like--

Well, actually, Jun did not know. For the first time, he realized his own squeamishness when it came to magic had meant that he’d never really asked Haru how she had become human in the first place, or why she’d come to Swynlake, or any of that. He’d just… well, he’d put it out of his mind completely. But surely she had to know much more about these things, at least the piece where she ended up in Swynlake! Yes, she was running away from a marriage, but why here? And how? Did she steal a, a charm, or could she open up portals herself, or what?!

There were missing pieces of this conversation that made Jun even more uncomfortable than he was. Miss Monkey’s confident diagnosis hardly did anything but make him more dismayed.

So while Ting-Ting stood up to at least give him his human voice back-- thank god!-- he glanced from Haru to Mu Hou and back again. At least they both could understand him.

“That makes no sense! Why are you so sure we have to go back to Nihon?” Jun demanded of Mu Hou. “And you!” This, to Haru. “You never explained to me how you even got here, eh! That seems relevant to this conversation, don’t you think? What kind of magic have you been hiding this entire time?”

TAE: As far as holidays went, this Chuseok was probably one of the more memorable ones. It wasn’t every day that his hyung’s girlfriend woke him up to tell him that his hyung was actually a cat and by the way so was she, you know? In fact, as the little cat form of his hyung snuggled up against his side, shying away from the other animals in the room, Tae was still struggling to wrap his mind around the whole thing. As far as he knew, Haru was related to someone at church! That’s why she’d been around so much. That was obviously a lie.

Now Tae was sitting in a room with talking monkeys and a girl who could understand his hyung when he yowled at her in cat and honestly he was going to have to talk to Jun as soon as all of this blew over--have a chat about telling lies and dating magick cat-girls like some anime or something.

Actually--Tae laughed from his spot on the couch, his fingers petting over Jun-cat’s back absentmindedly--and then blushed when they all looked at him. They were clearly having some sort of serious conversation that he could only hear half of and he’d interrupted them, but it was just so funny. His hyung was living an anime! He couldn’t wait to tell Nemo--well, as soon as the whole thing blew over and it wasn’t a giant secret anymore--but he was literally dating a cat-girl and then got turned into a cat!

“Sorry, I just--” he said to the room. “I was just thinking about something funny, don’t mind me.”

Haru cleared her throat beside him and he turned to look at her. He still really liked her, cat-girl or not. She was good for his hyung. He’d paid attention. He’d noticed Jun smile at her and let himself have a little fun when she was around. He really hoped Jun didn’t hate her too much for this.

“It’s not my magic,” Haru said, basically out of nowhere, though Tae was sure she was answering Jun’s meows. Heh. Cute.

“Back home we have a sorceress, Purrseph--she was kind of like a mother to me sometimes. I liked to follow her around, ask questions about what she was doing and she let me. I think she--well, I think she liked me more than my own family did sometimes, but that’s not important.” Haru’s eyes got a little shiny and Tae felt his heart twinge. He could understand that. Not that his family didn’t like him, but there was that fear of rejection--being scared of being tossed aside. He reached over and patted her arm.

Haru smiled at him and kept going.

“She told me she’d figured out a way for me to be happy when I came to her. She said she knew I didn’t want to get married to that stupid cat and that I was going to come to her so she’d been working on it. She said it would send me somewhere where I’d find that happiness and only when I found it would I be able to come back so I had to be sure.”

Haru’s cheeks were super red and Tae looked from her to Jun then smiled.

“Aww, hyung, you made her happy!”

“I think it was your whole family, Tae,” Haru said. “You all were so kind and welcoming and I just--I felt really at home with you. So thank you.”

MU HOU:

While Ting-Ting busied herself with the spell components — muttering a quick apology before dashing upstairs to the landing to collect all the reagents — Mu Hou pursed her lips, listening to the chatter of the cat-girl and the boy-cat (they were different, you see, for one was a cat turned girl and the other was a boy turned cat).

“Ah, I see,” said Mu Hou, with an understanding sigh. “I would’ve done the same for my girls. Well, perhaps not the same — but once I had them switch bodies to teach them a lesson. We mother-figures have to get creative sometimes, you know, otherwise a lesson won’t stick.”

She figured Haru would understand — animals often went about their ways in more indirect manners than humans. Part of it was not always being able to communicate in the same way, but Mu Hou found that those lessons stuck more when the people had to figure it out on their own.

“I’m back!” called Ting-Ting, darting down the stairs. “So so sorry — somehow we do have all the reagents, which is great, so they're all bubbling together right now and — “

“You’ll have to journey to the cat kingdom,” repeated Mu Hou. “I bet this Purrseph put a specific lock on the spell that only she can break. Complicated, yes, but lots of sorcererers will put failsafes on these sorts of things — especially when they come from the heart.”

She smiled at Haru, then looked fondly at Jun.

“It might seem… unconventional, but I have a feeling you will come out of this with something valuable.”

“Oh, please don’t tell me this is like those cookies,” moaned Ting, who scrunched up her nose. “That was a nightmare.”

“And you learned!” said Mu Hou. “Now — fetch that spell and help poor Jun find his voice again at the very least.”

Ting did as she was told — she always did — and soon enough, the spell was assembled and handed over to Haru in a little vial.

“Uh, he can lap it up using a little saucer?” offered Ting.

JUN: Ah, yes. A cat sorcerer. If there were a cat kingdom, and a cat princess, why wouldn’t there be a cat sorcerer? Though the more Haru explained, the more Jun wished she didn’t because of what it all implied--

Haru had been happy.

Apparently, Jun was this way because Haru was happy. He was supposed to fill in for this strange cat prince, and go rule a kingdom or something, like this was a strange faerytale about kissing frogs. If Jun had skin, he would be red from the tip of his ears to the tip of his nose. Did this mean that Haru actually like-liked him?

Yah, what was he, a fourteen-year-old?! Thinking things about ‘like-liking’ someone! He really needed to get out of this cat body, it was frying his brain!

(Though he couldn’t ignore that he’d had similar thoughts last night. But it wasn’t so much a feeling, was it? No butterflies at all. He and Haru had been perfectly comfortable with each other and that’s why Jun thought all those maybes. Maybe dating her for real wouldn’t be awful….maybe she’d be a good mother, a good wife, one day… maybe maybe maybe…

This was his fault too.

He’d never admit it!)

Instead, he leapt off the couch and padded toward the saucer. At least he could stop this high-pitched mewling! Jun lapped up the potion quickly, which wasn’t difficult because it was actually quite delicious. Then, blinking, he looked around at Mu Hou and Haru and Tae and finally Ting-Ting. “Well, I don’t feel any different. How do I know it’s work-- my voice!” Jun exclaimed. He could hear it this time, his words! His voice was back!

“Ah, thank you so much Ting-Ting! You have no idea how grateful I am. I promise, I’ll find a way to pay my gratitude.” He bowed...as a cat. Several times.

Though the main problem wasn’t fixed. But apparently… they had to go to Nihon for that.

He glanced at Haru. “Come, Haru, Tae-yah. We should er, let Ting-Ting get back to her morning. I’m sure she’s very busy.”

#para #moon princess #junting #moon bros

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skygirl5 · 4 years

Text

12 Prompts of Christmas - #9 Eggnog

This is a continuation of the previous chapter’s universe (behind the jump due to length)

NINE - Eggnog

On his first morning waking up in the isolated cabin, Rick wished to sleep late, but he couldn’t because he woke up before dawn absolutely, positively freezing. His normal sleeping attire for winter was boxers and a t-shirt because he generally kept his apartment fairly warm. He’d thought the blankets on the cabin’s bed would keep him warm enough, but evidently that was not the case; all his extremities felt like ice. Rick shivered so bad he could hardly pull on his jeans and button-down from the prior day before hobbling to the potbelly stove in the main room of the cabin and fiddling with it for ten minutes before he could figure out how to get a fire going inside of it once more.

Knowing warmth would soon come, Rick grabbed a blanket and tried to lay on the couch, which was the closest place to the stove on which to lay, but he was too miserably cold to fall back to sleep. Figuring maybe an afternoon nap would be more productive, he made coffee and sat with it cradled in his hand while wearing a blanket as a cape as he tried to warm up.

Though it took an hour, the cabin soon almost became too warm, but given how cold he had been Rick chose not to mind that too much and did his best to get some writing done. He wrote a few pages, but soon found it difficult to focus, and decided to go on a walk around the lake for a distraction. He also thought perhaps he might run into Kate, the intriguing woman whose mitten he found the day before, but he sadly did not. He did bump into an older couple who had a very friendly yellow lab and chatted with them for about ten minutes, but that was all the human interaction he had.

Back in his cabin, he called Alexis once it was a reasonable hour on the west coast. Unfortunately, their conversation was quite jumbled due to very poor reception, but he was at least able to confirm that Meredith had picked her up from the airport and was taking her shopping that day.

Since speaking with his daughter reminded him once again that she was not going to be with him for Christmas, Rick distracted himself by eating the pre-made salad he’d purchased for lunch and turned back to his writing, which was actually successful that round. He found himself so “in the zone” that he didn’t even notice how late it was getting until he got out of his chair to go to the bathroom and realized most of the cabin was completely dark.

Satisfied with the amount of work he’d done, Rick decided it was time to make himself dinner. He’d purchased some chicken cutlets which he planned on stir-frying and with some vegetables he purchased and so he began rummaging in the kitchen cabinets for the tools he’d need. He found a cast iron skillet and cutting board to use to prep his food. He’d purchased oil just in case the cabin didn’t have any, which ended up being a good call because he didn’t find any in the small pantry.

After pouring the oil into the skillet, he set it on the two burner stove so that it could heat up, but when he turned the knob to ignite the burner, he heard a click, but no flames appeared. Twisting his lips to the side in concentration, he crouched down and proceeded to fiddle with the knobs and burner for several more minutes to no avail; he could not get the stove to turn on.

Not too worried at that point, Rick decided that the best thing to do would be to call the cabin’s owner, Chip. He was a friendly older gentleman who had talked to Rick for nearly an hour when the cabin booking was made. Evidently the cabin belonged to Chip’s father, who was an avid fisherman. After his father passed, Chip inherited the place, but didn’t enjoy fishing as much, so he mostly rented it out. He’d told Rick not to hesitate to call if an issue arose, and Rick decided to do just that—even though it was technically Christmas Eve.

Rick walked over to where he’d left his laptop at the table. There, he’d left his phone as well as the contact information for Chip. Before he’d even begun to dial, Rick frustratingly realized his phone displayed a “No Signal” error. It hadn’t been that long since he’d spoken to Alexis, though admittedly the call had been cutting in and out at that time.

Figuring the reception had to be better outside, he put on his heavy coat and then dialed Chips number on the phone but didn’t hit the “send” button. Then, he stepped outside the cabin and was immediately knocked back by a wall of bone-chilling cold. The stinging temperature of the air was so great that he actually yelped, but then tried to recover as quickly as he could so he could get his phone call over with. Rick wandered around the area in front of the cabin for several minutes with his phone above his head waiting for the “No Signal” to vanish and bars to appear, but they never did.

Frustrated, Rick stomped out further into the yard, chasing an elusive signal. Just one bar!! He only needed one bar!!

He was about fifteen feet away from the house when he realized that small snowflakes had begun to fall from the sky above. He glanced up briefly, but that far after dusk it was almost pitch black outside. He was stumbling around only from the ambient light of the cabin’s exterior lighting, which at that distance was minimal at best. Yet, Rick remained determined to get a cell signal.

“Uhh Rick? Are you okay?” Rick heard after about seven minutes of wanting around in the freezing cold darkness.

“Wha—huh?” Startled he spun around until he saw the beam of a flashlight approaching, though due to the darkness he could not see the face of the person speaking to him.

“Are you okay?”

“I—who are you?”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” The woman moved the flashlight beam from the ground to point straight upwards. It barely illuminated her face, but he recognized her immediately. “You found my glove yesterday; I’m-”

“Kate,” he breathed, still a bit shocked to have met up with her by the lake near his cabin. “Yeah, I remember.”

“So…are you alright? You don’t have a flashlight…”

He grumbled. “I didn’t mean to walk this far from my cabin I just—I’m trying to get some cell reception.”

She hummed. “Well, you might not have too much luck with that, especially with this snowstorm coming in.”

Rick frowned. “Oh…I…hmm…sorry,” he added quickly when he could see Kate’s brow tightening in confusion. “The stove in the cabin stopped working and I tried to fix it, but, frankly, I have no idea what could be wrong, so I thought I’d call the cabin’s owner but…”

“Right.” Kate nodded. Then, after a beat added, “I can take a look if you want. I was just taking a little walk so it’s not big deal.”

“Oh—oh!” his tone elevated with surprise when he realized she was offering to help him, a total stranger, without being asked. Then again, he had found her glove earlier, so they weren’t total strangers, just mostly strangers. “Sure. That would be—that’d be great, thank you. Thank you so much.”

She shrugged and the followed him across the crisp ground towards the cabin. “It’s not a problem. The stove my parents had for years was…something. Probably a terrible fire hazard, to be honest. I finally made my father replace it a few years ago, because I was convinced one of the times he tried to fry up one of the fish he caught the whole place would go up in smoke.”

“Fair enough,” Rick chuckled as they reached the cabin’s porch.

He led the way inside where Kate scuffed her boots against the welcome mat and unzipped her coat as she slipped through the narrow doorway. She gazed around for a moment, but then immediately walked into the kitchen on the left. “Oh, yeah, this one is just like ours—only smaller,” she proclaimed upon looking at the stove.

“So you know all its secrets,” he concluded, hopeful.

“Let’s hope so,” she said, smiling at him over her shoulder before setting to work. Rick tried to ignore the tingles that smile sent down his spine as he leaned against the kitchen table, wanting to stay out of her way and feeling a bit awkward that he was unable to assist.

Rick watched as Kate checked dials and plugs and arched her body over the top of the range unit so she could presumably check the wall connection. Then with a quick, “Be right back,” she walked outside the cabin once more and he could see her walking around the house through the small window above the kitchen sink. She was outside about five minutes before she returned with a frown.

“Well, I have good news and bad news.”

Suspecting he knew the bad news, Rick concluded, “You know what’s wrong, but can’t fix it.”

Giving him a sad smile, she said, “No, I can’t. For whatever reason this stove uses a different fuel tank than the one hooked up to the water heater and furnace and that fuel tank is very empty. The owner must have forgotten to have it refilled; I’m sorry.”

Rick huffed out a breath. “Well considering its Christmas Eve I don’t think I’m going to get a fuel delivery

“No, I don’t think so.” After a moment she suggested, “You could make a fire?”

His immediate reaction was to cringe. “Ah… at the risk of sounding unmanly: I don’t know that I could successfully cook chicken that way without either burning it or giving myself food poisoning.”

She laughed and nodded, “Yeah, I guess I couldn’t either.”

They stood side by side in the tight kitchen silently for a moment before Rick said, “Well, that’s okay. I’ll just cut my trip a little short and go home first thing tomorrow morning, but I really appreciate your help, Kate.”

She stared at him for a few seconds before trapping her bottom lip between her teeth and glancing over to the kitchen counter, where his packet of chicken and vegetables were sitting beside the stove, waiting patiently for him to finish prepping them. After nearly twenty seconds of silence she finally concluded, “C’mon—grab your food; you can use my stove.”

Now taken completely aback, he held his one hand up defensively and stammered, “Oh—I—I wasn’t-”

“I know, but it’s Christmas, right? C’mon.”

Nodding, he hurried to the counter and began gathering what he could and shoving it back into the shopping bag it came from. “Thanks—thanks so much. Should we drive to your place, or…?”

She nodded. “Might as well. It’s only going to snow harder as the night goes on.”

Ten minutes later, after grabbing his food, other necessary cooking items, and his coat, Rick was following Kate’s directions to navigate his Mercedes towards her family’s cabin. The journey was short and she soon was leading the way into the warm, rustic space. Her cabin was significantly larger than the one he was renting. The living space was more expansive and from the length of the hall he could see in the rear, he guessed it had three bedrooms not just two. Unlike his cabin, which was decorated with mostly generic fishing or rustic décor, this was clearly a family cabin with knickknacks and family photos adding to the warmth.

“Oh, wow this is really nice.”

Kate shrugged as she took off her coat, “It isn’t much…mostly just a little escape.”

“Yeah, but it’s still great—homey.” He smiled at her for a few seconds then put his grocery bags down while he took off his coat, too. “Well, uh, I won’t take up too much of your time. Can I make you something, too? As a thank you.”

“Oh, um…” she hesitated for a moment then threw her hands out to the side in a ‘giving up’ gesture. “Sure, why not. I saw you had chicken and vegetables…”

“Yeah, I was going to put them all together in a stir fry.”

“I have some rice to make.”

“Perfect!”

For the next few minutes they both busied themselves in the tight kitchen. It was a delicate dance as there was not too much counter space around the stove, even though it did seem, as Kate had implied, that the space had been renovated recently. They managed it well enough, and after Kate started the rice, Rick chopped the vegetables and dumped them into the skillet before turning to the chicken cutlets and slicing them as well.

“So, tell me Kate, what is it that you do?”

“I’m a police officer.”

His brow arched as he pushed the chicken off the cutting board and into the pan. “Really? So you’re used to saving people in distress?”

She laughed airily. “Something like that.”

He washed his hands at the kitchen sink and then, after turning off the water, he told her. “I’m an author.”

“I know.”

Startled by her words, he did a double-take in her direction and nearly dropped the towel he was using to dry his hands. “You…do you read my books?”

Kate’s cheeks turned slightly pink as she confessed, “I might have skimmed through one or two.”

Assuming her dismissive comment was just meant to be a way to avoid some embarrassment, Rick smiled as he turned to their skillet meal, picked up a spatula, and began pushing around chicken and vegetable pieces so nothing burned.

So, Kate was, presumably, a fan of his books. How else would she have recognized him from just his first name? That also made sense. Since she was saving him from going hungry that evening he hadn’t wanted to question it, but he did find it slightly odd that a young woman such as herself would invite a strange man back to her cabin, which was isolated in the middle of nowhere. Maybe that was just his writer’s mind used to spinning dark scenarios but…well, thinking about his daughter, he hoped that she would not make the same decision in a similar circumstance for the sake of her safety. Finding out she was a police officer made a bit more sense; her training presumably made her feel more comfortable with self-defense, but if she knew him as a public figure, she would have been more likely to feel safe around him—not that he would have ever thought of hurting a woman, but sadly he knew that was not always the case with others.

Feeling in the mood to tease her a little bit more, he said, “So that’s why you wanted to have dinner with me? Because I’m one of your favorite authors?”

When he glanced over his shoulder, he saw that she eyed him skeptically. “I’m not sure that’s what I said.”

“It was implied.”

She laughed. “I see.”

Silence hung in the air for several moments before he changed the subject with, “So you live around here?”

“No, Manhattan.”

Now even more pleasantly surprised he proclaimed, “Oh! You’re NYPD?” After she confirmed with a nod, he said, “That’s amazing. How long have you been on the force?”

“Oh, not long. I graduated the academy in August.”

“Ahh well if you’re willing, I’d be all too happy to hear all your rookie stories as we eat.”

Ignoring his question, she instead offered, “Do you need help with anything? I feel bad I’m just standing here.”

“Nonsense,” he said casually. There really wouldn’t have been room for her to join him at the stove; the space was too tight. Besides, he didn’t mind. “I really enjoy cooking; it helps me think and plan my writing usually.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, because it keeps my hands busy, but my mind free to wander.”

“Hmm…makes sense.”

A few minutes later their meal was complete. Rick divided the stir fry and rice between two plates and then carried them over to the small dining table tucked in the corner of the room. As he set the plates down, he noticed a photo hung on the wall of a family: a man and a woman with a young girl about seven or eight standing in between them. The photo was clearly older and faded, and both adults wore sunglasses, but the woman had long dark hair and distinctive jawline and the man lighter brown hair and a soft smile. All three wore lifejackets and the lake—presumably the one located just a few feet away—could be seen behind them.

“This is you and your parents, I assume?” he asked, thumbing towards the photo.

“Yeah.”

“Where are they at? Don’t tell me they took a tropical vacation without you?”

She gave a soft smile as she picked up her fork and began to eat. “No, nothing like that.”

“You’re lucky, though—getting Christmas off,” Rick said in between bites. He didn’t imagine that was common for a rookie officer.

“I have to work Christmas day in the evening. And…I’ll be in Times’ Square on New Year’s Eve,” she explained.

“Oh! And you’re…not excited about that?” he guessed based on her tone. She gave him a look and he let out a small laugh. “Ah, right, I suppose not.”

“It’s only supposed to be fifteen degrees out!”

He nodded, sympathetic. “I know, I know; I don’t envy you at all. I’ve done it a few times as a spectator and it was never too bad as long as I’d had plenty of alcohol to warm me up.”

“I’m sure.”

They ate quietly for several minutes before Rick asked, “Did you spend your Christmases up here when you were little?”

“Mmm no. This place was usually my dad’s escape. His father and uncles purchased it when they were all young men. Now, they’ve all passed, and the cabin became my father’s, so he’s the one with the most connection to it. We used to come up here at least one week every summer to do things with the lake and just get out of the city, but almost never in the winter.”

Rick considered her comments as he slowly chewed his meal. He wondered why, if Kate’s father was so connected to the cabin, the elder man hadn’t joined her for the holiday? Furthermore, why hadn’t her mother? Sensing the question may have been a bit too personal to ask with that moment, he decided on a slight change of subject.

“I, um, I think I need to come up with some good holiday traditions for my daughter. I used to make sure I got her picture sitting on Santa’s lap every year, but this year she outright refused because she’s figured out that Santa isn’t real, so she’s a little salty about the whole ritual and refused to humor me. That’s literally what she said to—‘Dad, don’t expect me to humor you.’”

Kate laughed. “How old is she?”

“Six.”

Kate laughed again, harder that time. “Six?!”

“Yeah: six going on twenty. I think she’s already too smart for me and I fear that will soon be a pretty big problem.”

Kate nodded. “Yeah, it might be. Where is she spending Christmas?”

Sighing, Rick set down his fork and said, “With her mother. Last year, we’d just separated, so we tried to have a joint Christmas and it…didn’t go so well.” He involuntarily shivered at the memory of the wildly inappropriate phone conversation Meredith had with her new lover during their shared meal and their fight thereafter. “So, this year we decided to split the winter holidays: I got Thanksgiving and Meredith got Christmas.”

She nodded and said, “That must be hard.”

Unable to verbalize just how much his heart was breaking, Rick tried to stay positive. “I suppose it’s unfair of me to complain. I have primary custody, so I have Alexis nearly all the time, but Christmas…it’s my favorite holiday. My favorite time of the year. What’s worse is I had to send her to California by herself. I did get to take her through security to the gate and the assigned chaperone was extremely nice and gave her a candy cane but… it was still really hard to walk away.”

“I can’t imagine,” Kate said. When he met her sympathetic gaze, Rick did have to admit to feeling slightly better. Still, his heart was heavy.

“Sorry to bring the mood down.”

She waved her hand dismissively. “Don’t even worry about it.”

Finishing his glass of water, Rick continued with, “It’s, ah, why I came out here. Being in my apartment without her just felt like something that was too sad to bear.”

“I get that. It’s one of the reasons I’m not doing Christmas in the city this year.”

Surprised, his brow rose sharply. “You have a child?”

“What? No—sorry. Sorry. My mother…died.”

His eyes widened and his chest constricted with sorrow. Though he knew he didn’t do it directly, Rick did feel bad about bringing up a subject that was sensitive. “Oh—oh Kate I’m so sorry.”

One corner of her lip tugged upwards in a sad half-smile in acknowledgement of his comment. “This is the fourth Christmas without her. She, ah, died in January. Just after the holidays and…and my dad and I haven’t really celebrated since. He…we don’t even talk about it. We just don’t celebrate, which is…well, it is what it is, but being in the city makes it harder—walking past all the places where we made memories together as a family. And then this year…” She paused for a moment and took a deep breath, almost as though she needed to reset herself. “The reason I even got to take off work at all was because I had to take him to rehab.”

“Oh god,” Rick sighed, now feeling even worse. There he was complaining about not getting to spend a few days with his kid, who would be back before New Years’, and poor Kate had lost one parent forever and the other was struggling to the point where he was unavailable to her as well. “I’m so sorry to hear that, Kate.”

She gave him an appreciative smile. “It’s been bad for a while. I knew it. We both knew it. He’s been trying to get a handle on it on his own and been insisting he didn’t need an in-patient program, but it just wasn’t working, you know? Finally, I got him to agree to go as a Christmas present to me. Some present,” she added wryly.

“It will be if it helps him,” Rick pointed out in a soft tone.

“Yeah. Yeah, I know that. It’s just…hard.” She sat for another moment before pushing herself up out of her chair suddenly, walking over to the refrigerator and pulling out a cardboard carton, which she held up to him. “Want some?”

Even from that distance, Rick could clearly read the word “Eggnog” printed on the side and said, “Sure. Why not? It’s Christmas Eve.”

Kate poured two small glasses and handed him one. At the first sip he choked, his palate shocked by the alcohol, which he hadn’t expected since she poured it from a store-bought container and to his knowledge the store-bought kind was alcohol free. “Wow,” he croaked. “Your recipe could give my mother’s a run for her money.”

“Sorry—I should have warned you. I, uh, got a little heavy handed last night when I poured the whisky in the container.”

He shook his head in as an indication he didn’t mind, but he did make sure to take a more delicate sip the next time.

“So, your mother—will you see her for Christmas?” Kate asked.

“Ah, no, actually. She’s an actress and she’s touring with a holiday production. Their shows run through January second and she’ll come back home after that.”

“And your father?”

“Never met him,” Rick replied casually, taking another sip of eggnog.

Kate’s eyes widened. “Really? Never?”

Rick bobbed his head, knowing his untraditional backstory was a bit hard to process for most people. “Yeah; I don’t even know who he is. I was the, ah, product of a one-night stand.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

Rick shook his head. “’s okay. I’ve had over thirty years to process it.”

“Still…to never know a parent…I can’t imagine.”

He nodded. “Most can’t—and I’m glad. It’s certainly not something I would wish on anyone, but yet it’s also something that made me who I am.”

She nodded approvingly. “That’s a very healthy attitude, Rick.”

He raised his glass in salute. “Well, thank you.”

For the next three hours they drank the remainder of the quart of eggnog and chatted about an amalgamation of subjects: their jobs, the holiday season, life. Though he didn’t exactly acknowledge it at the time, looking back Rick was almost stunned how easy it seemed to talk to her about anything. Over the course of his life, he’d found himself having quick and easy connections to people he met several times, but each one was unique in its own way. With Kate, their conversation flowed effortlessly. They bounced around to a variety of topics and then back again without feeling like the conversation was too disjointed or nonsensical. It was all smooth and connected, like she was one of his oldest friends in the world instead of a woman he’d met by pure chance the day before.

Once the eggnog was finished, Kate offered Rick some water since he was driving, but he declined when he realized how long they’d been talking. By traditional standards it wasn’t that late, but he felt as though a holiday such as Christmas Eve had an exception. He didn’t want to displace whatever existing holiday plans she had for herself that night, particularly since she was returning to work the following day.

“I appreciate it, but I really should get out of your hair.”

“Ahh, yeah okay. I…I don’t think I realized what time it was,” she said with a light laugh.

“Yeah me neither. I, um, I really appreciate you letting me use your stove.”

She nodded. “Of course. Thanks for making dinner. It was…nice to have someone to eat with.”

Smiling, he agreed with, “Same,” and then stared at her for a moment, unsure of the proper way to say goodbye. A handshake seemed far too impersonal, but would a hug be too much? Deciding he shouldn’t over think it and that it was probably okay considering the intimacy of their conversation, he stepped up and gave her a brief one-armed hug, which she thankfully reciprocated. “Merry Christmas,” he said as he backed his way to the door, where he’d left his coat.

“Yes, Merry Christmas.”

Now zipping his coat, he reached for the door handle and smiled back over his shoulder at her, “Goodnight Kate.”

“Goodnight, Rick,” she echoed. Then, with a nod of his head, he disappeared out into the freezing snow-covered night.

#castle #caskett #castle fanfiction #castleficathonwinter2020 #12PromptsofChristmas #my fic: 12 Prompts of Christmas

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anonysaurusrexie · 4 years

Text

A Scene W/ Chibs- Pt. 2

Characters: Filip “Chibs” Telford x reader

Prompts:

“please don’t leave me alone.”

A/N: Ask for part 2 and ye shall receive. Can we go 2 and 0 for feels hitters? I don’t know but I’m swinging for the fences with my little t-rex arms. This is another almost smut that I couldn’t get the transition right in my head.

Part 1

Time became almost immeasurable in the wake of Chibs begging for you to come home, the Scotsman hanging onto you in his stupor. How much had he had to drink? You could only recall passing a fifth across the counter earlier in the evening before you drew a blank, his presence languishing at the back of your mind as you continued to serve at the bar. Had the croweaters that circled around him plied him with one beer too many in hopes of an easier score? The alcohol on his breath was near enough to give you a contact high. Any attempt to hold him at arm’s length led to reminder after reminder that whether you gave him a second chance, he was in no shape to discuss it now.

Draping his arm over your shoulders was easy enough but moving him from the stockroom into the hallway was a task in and of itself was like trying to move a mountain. Maintaining your composure was an art as you steered him down the hallway to an empty dorm, huffing as you hobbled across the room and poured him out onto the bed. You managed to coax him out of his kutte and shoes between his drunken attempts at affection, unwrapping his arms from around you as you tugged a t-shirt with a faded reaper over his head.

“Would ye stay awhile, lass? I missed ye so...” Chibs slurred as you tucked him underneath the sheets. “please don’t leave me alone.” You couldn’t help the sigh that escaped your lips as you combed his stringy locks away from his face. How conflicting it felt to be in a position you promised you wouldn’t put yourself in again, this close to opening the door to a past you thought you’d shut and moved on from.

“Filip, you’re drunk... we can talk tomorrow.”

The inebriated Scot rubbed his bloodshot eyes with his hand, pausing for breath before he looked up to search your face, the wheels turning behind his eyes as he weighed his next words. He yawned and stretched his hand across the bed in attempt to find yours, his fingertips brushing the back of your hand before he resigned himself to his fate. “Promise?”

“Promise,” you spoke with the corner of your mouth twitched up in a half smile. The silence wedged itself betwixt the two of you before you shrugged out of your hoodie, folding it with care before wrapping Chibs’ arms around it and watching him hold it close so he could breathe you in. “I’ll be back in the morning, Filip.”

“Okay, dove,” He mumbled as he closed his eyes, his breath growing deep until you were certain he’d fallen asleep and left him to his slumber. Your absence hadn’t gone unnoticed, finding some of the other brothers on their stools as Tig pilfered behind the bar for more drink. Once you shooed Tig out from behind the bar, the rest of the night passed without event until you greeted the first rays of dawn crossing the parking lot to your car. Whatever was to come of you and Chibs later that morning, you were sure it would be easier to navigate after stealing a few hours of sleep in your own bed.

There weren’t many bodies strewn across the clubhouse in sleep as you had imagined would be when you arrived at Teller-Morrow with the sun high over head and entered the clubhouse to pick up the mess of the previous night’s revelry. You started a pot of coffee after clearing what you could and sat with the weight of fulfilling your end of the bargain made mere hours before. Would Chibs remember the encounter in the stockroom or how he'd made it to one of the dorms? Or would he be too hungover to carry on the conversation that needed to happen? When the machine clicked to announce its brew was complete, you poured a full mug before you left the safety of the bar and marched down the hall toward your fate.

With a soft rapping of your knuckles against metal, you pressed your ear against the door to listen for Chibs. Hearing nothing, you decided to twist the doorknob and see how he'd fared during the night. Curled into himself during the night, he had his face buried into your hoodie to block out the morning light as he slept. You crossed the room gingerly before setting the mug down on the nightstand. The porcelain clinking against the wood was enough to make you stop in your tracks, casting a sideways glance to see if Chibs stirred and breathing a sigh of relief when he didn't. At least that would give you time to run a glass of water and rummage around for an aspirin or something... anything to buy you a few moments before you had to rip the band-aid off and wake him up to give him the chance to make amends.

"Y/N?" You could hear your name spoken in a hoarse whisper over your shoulder. Shutting the faucet off, you took a deep breath as you composed yourself and turned around to find Chibs' puffy, reddened face looking toward you from where he lay. "What're you doin' here, lass?"

"Well," You replied as you propped against the doorframe of the bathroom, sighing as you read his face. " You don't remember much about last night... do you, Filip?"

"Ah was jaked last night, judging by how ma head feels," He grumbled, squeezing his eyes shut as he thought twice about how quickly he tried to sit upright. "Dinnae tell me I made a eejit of myself in front of..."

"I... wouldn't quite put it that way," You spoke as you put the cup of water and the aspirin down beside the mug from earlier. Filip pushed the covers back and found the courage to throw his legs over the side of the bed, facing you with a plaintive look in his eye as you returned with a chair to sit facing him. "But there was some begging involved after you went after me when I left the bar."

"Feck," Filip cursed under his breath as he tossed the aspirin in his mouth, chasing it with a sip of water. You watched him swallow the lump in his throat, staring at some arbitrary spot in the floor until he worked up the courage to look you in the eye. "At least I didn't make a complete bawbag of myself but this isn't much better."

You bit your bottom lip to hold back a small chuckle, shaking your head as you crossed your arms. "Piss drunk as you were, you went looking for me to make sure I was alright," you sighed and leaned back into the chair and watched him reach for the coffee on the nightstand. "That means some of the man I fell for is still in there somewhere, Filip."

You could hear him grunt behind the mug he was taking a swig from. "Aye, I'm not well good at it..." He trailed off before returning the mug to its place. You observed him in silence for the next few moments before you stood from your chair, dragging it closer until you were within arms' reach of each other. "I'm sorry, Y/N..."

You reached across the space that separated the two of you and lay your hand over his where it rest on his knee. "I know, Filip," You squeezed his hand reassuringly after you felt him flinch beneath your touch. For him to react like this, what had gone on in his head after you'd gone your separate ways? How long had he been beating himself up before the outpouring in the stockroom? "You pleaded with me to let you make this right when you came after me last night."

Chibs groaned as he dragged his hands down his face. "So I did make a complete bawbag of myself..."

You shook your head in amusement before you left your chair and sat on the edge of the bed beside him, listening to the mattress creak beneath more weight. "Not enough of one for me to go back on a promise to talk this over in the morning."

Chibs had a cautiously hopeful glint in his eyes as he looked up from beneath his brow. "Oh?"

"I had to pour you into bed last night... how else do you think I knew where to find you?"

The scars that ran the curve of his cheeks lifted in a faint smile, some of the tension disappearing from his shoulders. "Thank ye, Y/N... it's more kindness than I expected."

"Filip, about last night..." You paused, sighing as you arranged then rearranged your words in your head over and over again, trying to make them sound right before there was no taking them back. "If you want a shot at me coming home and making things right between us..."

"Aye, lass?"

"Treat me like your old lady and not like I'm some piece of ass that hangs around the clubhouse."

"Ah could agree to that."

"SAMCRO is my family, my home now... there's no going back to what used to be for me. Club comes first sometimes, I know, but... don't let me become a stranger again."

The mattress creaked beneath the shifting weight of Chibs closing the distance between you until his hip brushed against yours, curling his fingers beneath your chin to turn your face towards his. Feeling his lips press to yours kindled a familiar heat deep in your core, lifting your hand to cup his cheek as you leaned in until the oaky aroma of scotch still lingering on him filled your nostrils. You felt his tongue trace your bottom lip to beg for entrance, letting the world fade around you as you parted your lips for your tongue to greet his in a kiss that stoked mere sparks into a flame that had been out for so long that you had almost forgotten what it was like to be warm. Chibs drew away after what seemed like ages and pressed his forehead to yours, savoring the quiet until his whisper broke the silence between the two of you.

"Aye, I won't make the same mistake twice, lass... ye can count on that."

#chibs x reader

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that-vigilante-piedpiper · 4 years

Text

Welcome to My Discards Folder 🤩

[Here’s some context for people who didn’t see my previous posts, this is what I originally had planned for Midoriya’s USJ excuse, in this version he’s already much better friends with Kirishima and is already acquainted with Uraraka and Iida, his wounds weren’t as serious and the scar on his neck doesn’t exist, most of the build up is the same, just sped up as he doesn’t spend nearly as much time at home, he’s also already been to the hospital with the same excuse he uses in this scene 💞]

______________________________________

“Midoriya? What are you doing over here?” The voice belongs to Uraraka. He turns to see her pushing through 1-A’s door, walking towards him.

“Ah, just following the crowd, they’d seemed pretty enthusiastic about something.” The boy scratches at the back of his head, a shy smile on his lips. The action sends a flare of pain through his ribs and Izuku’s expression quickly melts and he drops the arm. “But, nevermind that. I heard on the news what happened, is everyone okay?”

“Mhmm. All the kids got out pretty quickly without having to fight. But, Aizawa sensei and Thirteen got injured pretty badly.”

His next words catch in his throat at the mention of Aizawa.

“Midoriya?”

“Are they okay?”

She eyes him worriedly. “Yeah. Thirteen’s injuries weren’t as bad as Aizawa sensei’s and he showed up at school today so… Midoriya?” she asks. “Are you okay? You seem pretty out of it.” She leans in, studying the dark circles beneath his eyes.

“Ah Ha Ha!” he cries, stepping back, “I was just thinking that Recovery Girl’s quirk really is amazing!” He rushes to cover the unidentifiable surge of emotions that he’s feeling at the knowledge that Aizawa is here.

Kirishima comes up beside the girl as the crowd disperses and they continue down the hall together.

At some point Uraraka breaks away to catch up with Iida and Yaoyorozu to ask about some homework, leaving Kirishima and him alone to discuss Present Mic’s English lessons. It’s an easy topic, one that takes their minds off of the events of the days before.

The breath in his lungs catches when someone bumps shoulders with Izuku, pain flaring through his ribs. He takes in a choked gasp and tries to keep himself from bringing his hand up to cradle his side.

Kirishima catches the pained expression that passes across his face. “You alright dude?”

“Fine,” he gasps out, fists clenching as he tries to breath through the pain. “I’m fine.” He’s not fine, his side feels like it’s on fire, but the last thing he needs to do is make anyone at UA suspect what he gets up to most nights. “Just some bruised ribs from the dojo.” This time he does bring his hand up to his side, cradling the area.

Eijirou’s brows furrow. “Have you been to see recovery girl about it? I’m sure she could help.”

“I’m not a hero course student.”

The boy lets out a breathy laugh, “And Recovery Girl isn’t a hero course nurse. Now come on.” Kirishima grabs him by the wrist, dragging him through the crowd. Midoriya blinks, taken off guard as Eijirou cuts a path through the other students, careful not to let any of them bump into him.

It isn’t until the redhead is sliding the door to the nurse’s office open that he remembers his injuries are a bit more extensive than “just some bruised ribs from the dojo”.

“Recovery Girl, I brought someone to see you.”

From over his friend’s shoulder, Izuku is able to see the small figure of UA’s nurse.

“Oh? Well, bring them in. What’s the matter?” The woman scowls. “Your class didn’t have another training session with All Might today, did you?”

Midoriya can see Kiri’s cheeks flush and he brings up his free hand to scratch at the back of his neck. “No, ma’am. This is Midoriya Izuku, he’s in the Gen Ed department. He says it’s just some bruised ribs, but someone bumped into him earlier and it looked like he was in a lot of pain.” Eijirou turns back to him, shuffling over to make room to drag him inside. “Let her get you patched up, I don’t like seeing you hurt. It’s… weird.”

He catches Recovery Girl’s gaze before quickly averting his eyes.

“Please take care of him.” Kirishima squeezes his hand before he finally drops it and his head dips in Recovery Girl’s direction. “Anyway, I’ve got to get to class before Aizawa Sensei.”

Midoriya’s head turns to follow him out.

The boy turns back to look at the nurse. Recovery Girl, Chiyo Shuzenji, his brain supplies, the sole reason UA’s hero course is able to function as dangerously as it does.

She hobbles over to one of the beds and pats the mattress. “Well, come sit down then and I’ll take a look at you.”

He still hasn’t said anything, still thinking over what he could say. If he blames such a serious injury on his training at the dojo, Chee Sensei would suffer for it. But, if he gave the excuse he’d given Ji-Woo, then there’s no guarantee that she’d even believe him. But, he can’t think up any other excuse in the time it takes him to cross the room towards the bed. Either way it’s best to be consistent.

“So tell me what’s wrong dear.”

Izuku takes a seat on the offered bed. “I’ve already gone to the hospital for it so there’s really no reason to worry.”

The woman huffs, tapping her cane on the tile. “I’ll decide that for myself young man, now out with it.”

Midoriya raises his arm to scratch at the back of his head, but thinks better of it at the flash of pain through his side. “I... got too close to a hero fight the other day and I got hit by one of the villains.” His mind flashes him back to the USJ, to the monster that appears at his side without mercy. “I got flung a good distance. Broke a few ribs.”

A scowl appears on the woman’s face, adding more wrinkles to her brow. “And the hospital?”

“One of the nurses used a quirk on me that’s supposed to accelerate healing. Though I haven't really seen much of a change.”

Her scowl deepens, “Let me see it then, lift your shirt up.”

It’s a struggle to tug his shirt up, his side screaming at him every time the bruise stretches in the slightest. He can’t reach around and pull up the hem of his shirt without his ribs shifting and his breath leaves him with a wheeze of pain.

Chiyo eyes the boy at the noise. And, upon seeing the twisted grimace that’s on his face, goes over to help.

Midoriya can tell the moment she sees it, her brows riding low over her eyes and her mouth pulling into a thin line. “How on Earth did you say you managed this?” His side is mottled in varying shades of dark cobalt and midnight purple. The nurse from the hospital had somewhat accelerated the healing process with her quirk, but it had only managed to tint the edges of the bruise a leaf green.

Izuku opens his mouth to respond, but his words are replaced with a hiss of pain when Recovery Girl gently prods the area. “I have a bad habit of following hero fights…” he gasps out instead of answering.

“It looks like you got a little more than ‘flung’.”

He knows this, but what can he say? That he, a quirkless fifteen-year-old, was playing at vigilantism and as a consequence got pummeled by a monster that even All Might had trouble defeating? He huffs out a quiet laugh.

“When my dojo instructor found out about it she took me to the hospital to get it checked out. The doctor said I had three broken ribs and three that were cracked. They gave me pain meds, but I forgot to take them this morning.”

That’s a lie, Izuku tells himself, I’ve already taken them all.

“Your friend said you only had some bruised ribs.”

A small smile tugs at his mouth. “I didn’t want to worry him. He’s got enough to worry about with everything that happened to 1-A.” He looks back down at Recovery Girl and startles when he catches the look on her face. That’s worse than Chee Sensei’s.

“You’ll feel tired after this, you can sleep in here until school’s out. I’ll let your teachers know.” She plants a kiss on the boy’s forehead.

It’s a weird feeling being healed like this. He hadn’t really felt anything when the hospital’s nurse had used her quirk on him, but now he can feel what’s happening. His side starts tingling violently, almost uncomfortably, but it’s over within seconds and he feels like the life has been sucked out of him. Midoriya droops forward a bit, drained and somehow more exhausted than before. It’s a new type of exhaustion, different from the late night vigilante work that leaves dark circles strung beneath his eyes.

“Lay down and take a nap, I’ll wake you up before school’s over.”

He does.

He’s still exhausted when Recovery Girl nudges him awake, but there’s a distinct lack of pain that snaps him into wakefulness. He pushes himself up with his elbows, staring down at his side in mild disbelief when there’s no fiery pain lacing through his ribs.

“There’s still some bruising so I’m sure you’ll be sore,” Recovery Girl says, startling him. He looks towards her, mind running through the marvels of such a quirk. “You seemed tired as it was so I didn’t want to push you too much. When you get home make sure you get some more rest.” Though the words sound as if they’re merely a suggestion it’s accompanied by a fierce glower from the woman that marks the ‘suggestion’ as a command.

Midoriya gives her a small nod as he pulls himself out of the bed, testing out his newfound range of movement. There’s a grin that slips across his face when he slowly extends his arm in an imitation of a punch and receives only a slight signal of discomfort from his ribs.

She hands him a handful of gummies that he quickly slips into his mouth. “If the pain gets too bad then over the counter pain medicine should work fine. Though the best brand would be staying away from such situations again young man, you could have easily been killed had your ribs punctured a lung or severed a major artery.”

“Yeah.” The grin melts away. “I kind of got in over my head with that one….” There’s a disquiet that Chio watches fall over the boy, a dolor expression carving furrows into his brow. He turns and bows. “Thank you for taking care of me.”

“If you really want to thank me then do so by staying out of trouble.”

“Of course.” There’s a moment of silence as Izuku pulls his shoes back on and stands up. “I’ll be going then.” He doesn’t look back at the woman like she’d expected.

It seems I’ve touched a nerve.

#discard folder

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mcgrillzdumpinc · 4 years

Text

Dreams, Inescapable

Summary: At Nie Mingjue's funeral, Nie Huaisang receives an antique camera. That night, he begins to have a strange dream, one which repeats every night. Each morning, he wakes with a new scar on his body. Can he escape the dream before he dies? Written for SangCheng Month day 12 - Scars!

ao3 link

Pairing: Sangcheng Rating: M Warnings: Body horror, references to violent deaths, survivor guilt, mentions of seizures Word count: 3429

As Nie Huaisang sits in the parlor room, it occurs to him that he is alone. He watches distant family and friends walk about, talking in hushed tones and looking everywhere but him, and he remembers his father—dead at thirty-nine from a brain aneurysm. His birth mother, taken by surgical complications. His other mother, who left the family with the death of her husband. And now his brother, a car accident wrought by Nie Huaisang’s own carelessness.

He looks down at his leg in a cast and realizes he’s alone. Nobody left to blame or to love. Just him.

Soon there will be arguments about inheritance. Greedy cousins will hem and haw about Nie Mingjue’s will and who, exactly, deserves to receive what. Nie Huaisang already has arguments and defenses for every attack, like the born strategist his father claimed him to be, but as he breathes back a sob, he wishes he did not have to have them.

~~~

Among Nie Mingjue’s possessions is an antique camera. It’s a strange thing, with seal script inscribed around the lens. The bellows are made with a well-worn black leather and the metal holding the whole thing together is an oxidized bronze. To Nie Huaisang’s relief, nobody tries to stake a claim on the camera—it’s hard enough to justify keeping his father’s land holdings, how silly would he look trying to keep a camera, as well?

As the barely-civilized discussion continues, Nie Huaisang eventually brings the camera to sit on his thighs. It’s heavy, but the weight reminds him of his brother, of the times he would joke around and try to sit in Nie Huaisang’s lap. It allows him at least a small bit of warmth as he faces an otherwise bitter family.

~~~

Lan Xichen and Meng Yao are the last ones to leave, in the end. Much to Nie Huaisang’s gratefulness, they help him back to his house, carrying in Nie Mingjue’s urn, the camera, and Nie Huaisang’s personal items as the man in question hobbles in. Meng Yao makes them a warm stew while Lan Xichen helps Nie Huaisang out of his mourning clothes.

The three sit down for dinner. Nie Huaisang is quick to compliment Meng Yao’s cooking—“San-ge, really, you should open a restaurant, you’d rake in so much money!”

Meng Yao laughs and refuses. “I only know three recipes, Huaisang! What kind of restaurant would that be?”

“Family style!” Nie Huaisang retorts. “And you could learn more recipes! Turn three into ten and you’ll have so many customers!”

Lan Xichen chuckles to himself. “Would you help him, then, Huaisang?”

“I’ll do PR. Run the Instagram!”

Meng Yao scoffs with humor and places his spoon down. The stew sits half-finished in his bowl. “This is nice,” he comments. “I didn’t think we would be able to laugh so soon—”

“Don’t,” Nie Huaisang interjects, a warning. As Lan Xichen says his name with a plea, Nie Huaisang slaps the table. “We’re not letting go of him so easily!”

“Huaisang, that’s not—” Lan Xichen tries.

“Not what you’re doing?” Nie Huaisang asks as he meets Lan Xichen’s eyes and wills for him to understand, in totality, the way his heart is beating now. Even though it is racing, it seems to only be doing half the work. “My brother has only been gone a few days! Why are you already trying to forget him?!”

“As if we could!” Meng Yao shouts. The sudden noise from an otherwise quiet man forces Nie Huaisang to focus. “Nie Mingjue was our closest friend, Huaisang. We could not forget him for the rest of our lives. But we must be ready to move on.”

Nie Huaisang’s voice breaks as he says, “So soon?”

Meng Yao looks down at his bowl as he replies, “We all must take our time.”

The evasiveness prickles Nie Huaisang’s already-struggling heart. With a loud sniff, he stands on his crutch and hurries back to his room.

In about an hour, Lan Xichen and Meng Yao leave. Nie Huaisang hears them clean up before spending some time conversing downstairs. He cannot hear a word they say, but he knows it must all be about him and his brother. Before he can work up the nerve to go talk to them again, though, he hears them walk out the front door, locking up behind them. And in the darkness of his family home, Nie Huaisang is alone again.

~~~

He is cold. As the light filters into his eyes, Nie Huaisang cannot think past the chill that envelops his skin and dares to breach to his bones. He looks around, desperate for a blanket or a jacket, and instead realizes he’s in a garden, with the walls of an old-fashioned house on all sides. But instead of flowers, the garden is littered with gravestones, all topped off with snow. Most of the names have worn away, but he can still make out a few.

‘Wei Wuxian’. ‘Jiang Yanli’. ‘Yu Ziyuan’. ‘Jiang Fengmian’.

Nie Huaisang approaches the grave titled Wei Wuxian, but soon he hears a noise, like the thud of a foot on wooden boards. He startles and looks towards the sound and—there—

“Da-ge?!”

His brother is walking up the steps to enter the house via the northern wall. Nie Huaisang can only see his back, but he knows without doubt that it is his brother.

“Da-ge!” he shouts as he breaks into a run. “Da-ge, wait!”

His brother, though, does not wait. He opens the door and walks into the house. Nie Huaisang, somehow unable to catch up to him, calls after him again. Nie Mingjue doesn’t answer. He disappears into the darkness of the unlit house.

Nie Huaisang passes the threshold. Warmth immediately encases him. On the air wafts the smell of pork and lotus. As he looks around, he soon realizes his right leg is no longer kept bound in a cast. Rather, he is dressed in clothes that were ruined the night that—

Nie Huaisang gasps. At his feet is the strange camera Nie Mingjue left behind. As he picks it up, distant humming flows into his ear. He looks in its direction, then towards the way he saw Nie Mingjue go. Deciding it better to follow an actual lead, he takes a step towards the humming.

Nie Huaisang wakes up. In the comfort of his own bedroom, his right leg aches fiercely.

~~~

He receives a call from Meng Yao later in the afternoon. Haltingly, with the idea of apologies at the back of his head, he tells his long-time friend of his dream. The winter garden, the gravestones, Nie Mingjue, and the camera. Meng Yao mutters to himself and takes a long while before answering.

“I think I’ve heard of something similar. I’ll look into it.” In the background of Meng Yao’s end, Nie Huaisang hears Jin Zixuan curse over something.

“You make it sound like something serious,” Nie Huaisang says instead of inquiring after Meng Yao’s half-brother.

“It might be,” Meng Yao answers honestly. “I know a lot of stories.”

From his mother, Nie Huaisang remembers. She invested a lot into ghost tales and superstitions and the like, especially in the years preceding her death. Meng Yao doesn’t speak of her often, but Nie Huaisang knows she pressed much of her beliefs and way of life onto her son. In all honesty, it is a part of Meng Yao that Nie Huaisang likes a lot, since it makes the otherwise vigilant man sincere and cheerful. So Nie Huaisang is willing to entertain any silly superstition Meng Yao finds about his dream if it’ll keep his friend’s mind at ease.

“Okay, don’t hesitate to call if you find something. And, uh, san-ge…”

When Nie Huaisang takes too long to continue, Meng Yao says, “Yes?”

“I’m sorry,” Nie Huaisang manages. “About last night. I shouldn’t have yelled at you.”

He can hear the sad smile in Meng Yao’s voice as he replies, “Think nothing of it, Huaisang. I know what you’re going through. I know you blame yourself—”

“Goodbye, san-ge. I’ll call you tomorrow,” Nie Huaisang interrupts. Without waiting for a response, he hangs up.

~~~

He’s at the threshold again. Winter chill gnaws at his back while the warmth of the house protects the rest of him. In his hands is the camera and in his ears is the humming. Nie Huaisang closes the door and walks towards the sound.

The house is more comparable to a mansion. It takes Nie Huaisang a while to find the humming’s source. Eventually, though, he finds another garden. Unlike the place with the gravestones, this spot is warm and smells of flowers. It is springtime here, he realizes. He steps into the warmth and admires the koi pond displayed in the center walkway. As his gaze travels, he realizes there is a young girl sitting on the exact opposite side of Nie Huaisang.

He approaches, careful not to startle her. When she notices him, she stops humming but does not run away. He is able to come up and kneel next to her. She is dressed in lilac and dark purple hanfu, delicately embroidered with depictions of jumping carp and lotus flowers. He notices a gash up her left leg that ends at the knee. It is still bleeding, but she doesn’t seem at all bothered by it.

“Hello,” he begins, “I’m Nie Huaisang. What’s your name, young miss?”

She scrunches her nose. “I’m a boy!” he corrects.

“Ah, my apologies.” Nie Huaisang offers a smile. He knows what it’s like to realize your true gender so early on. “Young master, what is your name?”

“…..Jiang Cheng,” the boy replies. “What’s with your camera?”

“Oh, this?” Nie Huaisang brings up the camera. “It’s a gift from my brother. What happened to your leg?”

Jiang Cheng frowns. It’s adorable how grumpy such a young face can appear. “I fell. Wei Wuxian pushed me. I’m waiting for jiejie to return with bandages.”

Nie Huaisang remembers the gravestones. He wonders if this young boy is dead, too. “Would you like for me to wait with you?”

Before Jiang Cheng can answer, the door behind them opens with a loud slam. Nie Huaisang looks up, half-expecting his brother, but at the threshold is a man dressed like a priest. But his clothes are torn and tattered, blood drenched and covered in mud. His body—Nie Huaisang can barely see his body, for it is littered with scars and shredded flesh. His hair has been pulled out from the scalp, leaving only chunks of various lengths and sizes. As he glares at Nie Huaisang, he does it with only one good eye, since there is not a second one in its socket.

“Get out!” the man roars. “Leave this place!”

Nie Huaisang acts on instinct. He holds up the camera and takes a picture.

The man—the ghost—reels back, reacting in pain. Nie Huaisang takes another picture. The ghost howls. Nie Huaisang takes more pictures. But each time he does, it is as though the ghost grows immune, for soon it is charging on him and nothing is working. Before Nie Huaisang can finally think to run, the ghost reaches out and pushes him on the chest.

Nie Huaisang wakes up. While he tries to catch his breath, a searing pain suddenly shoots up his left leg. Looking at it for damage, he watches as his skin steadily puckers, collapsing and molding into a scar that ends at the knee.

Nie Huaisang screams.

~~~

“The camera?”

Nie Huaisang bites on his thumb nail as he responds to Lan Xichen. “Yeah. Do you know anything about that vintage camera da-ge had?”

“I think I do. I remember him showing it to me when we were children.” Something clatters in the background of Lan Xichen’s end. Nie Huaisang hears Lan Wangji’s voice follow. “Yes, brother, I will be careful. I know how to chop a carrot.”

Nie Huaisang winces. He hopes Lan Wangji has the first-aid kit nearby.

“Mingjue told me it was from his grandfather,” Lan Xichen continues. “He brought it over from Japan. It supposedly allows the user to see ghosts.”

“Did it work?” Nie Huaisang asks, doing his best not to think of the mutilated man.

“No. We went to a few places around the town, but we never saw anything with the camera. I have a few of the pictures we took of ourselves, though, if you would like them.”

Nie Huaisang looks down at the vintage camera on his desk, at the photos of the mutilated man he developed from the camera roll. “No, it’s okay, er-ge. You can keep them.”

“While we’re on the topic of Mingjue…can I ask you something, Huaisang?”

Nie Huaisang takes in a shuddering breath. He knows what’s coming. “Yes, go ahead.”

“Do you still blame yourself for the accident?”

Nie Huaisang resists the sudden urge to break his phone. He breathes in. Breathes out. “I wasn’t looking at the road, er-ge.”

“Mingjue was having a seizure, Huaisang. It was the first time it happened while you were driving, right?”

“It wasn’t his first seizure!” Nie Huaisang shouts. “I—I know how to handle them. I was just pulling him away from the window—”

“I know, Huaisang,” Lan Xichen says, his voice unbearably soft. “It’s not your fault.”

Nie Huaisang hangs up.

~~~

Every night, Nie Huaisang finds himself in the mansion. He always starts by the graveyard. As he travels, he finds out more about this place. If it was ever real, then it once housed the Jiang family and several subsidiary clans. At the head were Jiang Fengmian and Yu Ziyuan. In their small village, surrounded by sprawling families, the two were tasked with keeping peace. Their village was threatened by the Rift, the space between life and death, that would sometimes break and cause the once-dead to roam the village. Only the actions of the Jiang could ensure the Rift remained closed and the undead remained quarantined away.

And oh, what actions they were. As Nie Huaisang tours the mansion, trying desperately to find a permanent way out of this dream, he spots many ghosts. A man dressed in black and red with his heart pulled directly from his chest. A young woman with her back cut open. An older woman whose cries ring through Nie Huaisang’s mind and nearly drive him mad. An older man who never attacks Nie Huaisang, only wanders the halls aimlessly. In time, with the help of diary entries and a photo album, Nie Huaisang learns who they are.

The heartless man, Wei Wuxian. The open-back woman, Jiang Yanli. The wailing woman, Yu Ziyuan. The aimless man, Jiang Fengmian.

They failed to keep the Rift at bay. They failed because of the youngest son, Jiang Cheng.

~~~

Jiang Yanli’s diary, entry five.

Tomorrow will be my ritual. They will remove my golden core and feed it to the Rift. As is the custom, the youngest will have to oversee the process to ensure I am not harmed. I will have to be kept awake for two days so that the ritual will not fail.

I am scared, but not of losing my golden core. It is weak. I do not think I will be much different without it. I only hope Jiang Cheng will be okay. He doesn’t like to see me in pain.

---

Jiang Yanli’s diary, entry six

I don’t know what to do. I went to the Sacred Hall like I’m supposed to and the door was closed. Locked. I couldn’t get in. Nobody has the key besides Jiang Cheng. I can’t find him anywhere.

This has to happen today. I don’t know what to do.

---

Jiang Yanli’s diary, entry ten

Today it is Wei Wuxian’s ritual. I’m scared Jiang Cheng won’t be able to see it through. My ritual allows me to survive, but…

We said our goodbyes to Wei Wuxian last night. I made Jiang Cheng promise not to interfere this time. I hope all will go well.

---

Jiang Yanli’s diary, entry eleven

Mother, I’m sorry if I was not a good daughter. I always tried my best to do as you told me, but it seems I won’t be able to keep my promise to you this time. I will see you on the other side.

Father, in our next life, please be my father again. Let’s do better next time. I will make sure everyone is happy.

Wei Wuxian, I cannot blame you. Jiang Cheng is impossible to convince once he’s made up his mind. You are my sweet didi. I know you did everything you could.

Jiang Cheng, you did not want to see us suffer. You are the most loving man I have ever known. When you come to your senses, please read this and know it was not your fault. You were only trying to help. You are the best brother I could have asked for.

~~~

Every time Nie Huaisang wakes from the dream, it is to a sharp pain in his body. There is a new scar each time he looks in the mirror. On his shoulder, across his stomach, on the back of his neck, against his thumb, over his chest. He hisses when he realizes how raised and red some of them are, especially the one on his stomach.

On the day he receives a diagonal scar across the back of his left hand, Meng Yao finally calls Nie Huaisang about the dream. He says that several people have had similar dreams. They wake to a wintery graveyard and see a deceased loved one enter a mansion. If they follow the deceased, they begin waking every morning to scars on their body. As the dream continues, they sleep for more and more time until, eventually, they do not wake at all. All autopsy reports reveal they died of a heart attack.

Nie Huaisang thanks him and ends the call. He looks out at the expanse of his bedroom from the comfort of his bed. He cannot find the energy to get up. He wonders if he should fight that.

~~~

One night, finally, Nie Huaisang finds himself face-to-face with the mutilated man again. He is as fearsome as Nie Huaisang remembers. But Nie Huaisang knows he can do this, he knows he can win. He’s exorcised Wei Wuxian, Jiang Yanli, Yu Ziyuan, and Jiang Fengmian. He’s exorcised the countless other spirits which roam these halls. He can win against the mutilated man, as well.

“Get out!” the mutilated man screams.

“You get out!” Nie Huaisang shouts back lamely. “I won’t let you kill me, too.”

The mutilated man takes pause at that, his breath heavy. “Save yourself, then. Run away.”

Nie Huaisang clicks his tongue and forces his shaking hands to still. He brings the viewfinder to his eye and—

And he sees a young man. A beautiful young man in purple hanfu, delicately embroidered with depictions of jumping carp and lotus flowers. He is smiling gently in the springtime, the wind blowing through his black hair.

Nie Huaisang gasps and brings the camera down. The mutilated man stares back at him.

“You’re… Jiang Cheng?”

The mutilated man, no, Jiang Cheng blinks at him. “Nobody has called me that for a long time. Now go.”

“If I go then I’ll die to the curse, anyway,” Nie Huaisang readily tells him. He pulls up the viewfinder again. A muddy and bloody man stares back at him.

“I took my sister’s place, then my brother’s,” Jiang Cheng declares before Nie Huaisang can pull the trigger. “I-I can take your place, too.”

“You know how to stop the curse?”

Jiang Cheng goes tellingly silent.

“You need another person, don’t you? That’s what this dream is for, isn’t it?” Jiang Cheng snarls, but Nie Huaisang soldiers on. “It’s a two-part ritual! You—you can’t close the Rift by yourself.”

“I would not ask that of a stranger!”

“Then who would you ask it of?” Nie Huaisang shouts. “I saw the spirits of your family! Either I end you and end the curse, or you find somebody to do the second ritual again! You’re alone, Jiang Cheng, you’re—” Then it occurs to him, as he stands in this dreary mansion, that he is no different than the ghost before him. He thinks of Lan Xichen and Meng Yao and the families they still have. He thinks of Nie Mingjue. He thinks of the car crash. He thinks of a young man smiling brightly in the springtime.

Nie Huaisang drops the camera.

#mo dao zu shi #mdzs #sangcheng #nie huaisang #jiang cheng #sangchengber #sangchengmonth2020 #you ever write a drabble and it turns into 3000 words

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goodnightallwhites · 4 years

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Your Life in the Black Ruled World By BlackingPacking

Your Life in the Black Ruled World

By BlackingPacking

Submitted: July 24, 2019 Updated: January 7, 2020

You're a young whiteboy in a world ruled by BBC, doing normal things in life- hanging out with your friends, crushing on girls, gossiping, fantasizing a little too much about your sisters, and jerking off your tiny dick to all the women in your life getting fucked my hung black studs.

Contains: BBC, SPH, cucking, dubleg, strong racial content, incest. DO NOT READ unless you have a blacked fetish.

Provided by Hentai Foundry.

Chapter 1 - Wake Up 2

Chapter 2 - Good Morning Abby 5

Chapter 3 - Good Morning, Coral 8

Chapter 4 - Good Morning Mary... 13

Chapter 5 - And Good Morning Ellie 16

Chapter 6 - A Good Morning to Jenny 20

Chapter 7 - A Good Morning for Lily 26

Chapter 8 - And lastly, Good Morning to Katie 31

Chapter 9 - Brunch 36

Chapter 1 - Wake Up

You wake up at around one p.m.- a minor inconvenience, as school won’t start for another few days. Besides, sleeping early was a result of an intense day of white dicklet-jerking, and you’ve spent tons of time jerking your little thing off- a medically recommended 8 cums a day, in order to reduce stress for white boys. Of course, it was hard for your little peanut-sized balls to actually muster up that much sperm, but they manage,

You could hear a mattress banging from your parent’s room- well, your mom’s, since your dad was living in the city full-time, working his ass off for your mom as a good white husband should- with your mom screaming from the good morning fuck her bull, a 55 year-old pro with an 18 incher fit for his dad bod- Damarcus. Your first orgasm of the day was often this, jerking your dick, under 1/8th the size of his.

“A shit! My fucking shitter! It’s so fucking streeeeetched!” She cried, clearly doing anal, which she wasn’t as good at as plenty of other girls, including your sisters.

In about 30 seconds, you came, shooting a few pathetic drops onto your marble-sized balls. You blushed as you hear your mom getting anally destroyed in the next room while your white babydick went flaccid again.

“Fuck baby! Fuck I’m cumming! Ah! Ah. Yes! I’m cumming with your big fucking nigger dick up my poopchute!”

You hear a loud smack as Damarcus slaps her fat white ass as he pounded it from underneath, mighty balls probably swinging wildly.

“Fuck baby, yeah, yeah, gimme another load of your black cum! Awwww yes right up my pooper! Shit there’s so much mmmm,” your mom, despite being 47 years old, is a grade-A slut, who not only had produced 7 snowbunny daughters (and, sadly, you), But is also involved in the Neighborhood Blacked Moms Association, organizing dates and orgies for all the women in the neighborhood.

You hear the bed creak as your mom fell on it, exhausted from what was probably hours of sex from godly black cock. You leave the room, still nude, and nervously move your little hairless white body to the door to listen closer. Your smooth, nubby little penis gets hard again.

“Damarcus..” your mom says, “go wake up my useless little bitch of a son so he can clean me up!”

Your little two-incher stands at attention and you nervously push open the door to see your overweight, exhausted redhead mom on the bed while the tall, hairy piece of meat beside her was standing.

“Bitch boy!” Your mom calls you, breathing heavily on her back, “clean me the fuck up!” She demands.

“Clean me too, Gail,” Damarcus commands, shoving his fat, long cock in her face for her to suck all the juices off. Your mom does it wish a smile, loving her taste mixed with black cum.

She always spent hours every morning getting fucked by his big dick, and it showed in the mess of a cream pie, if it could even be called that, spilling out what looked like gallons of thick cum from her pussy and asshole, pouring onto the bed in a hot mess.

“Moooooom,” you whine, “how do I eat all this? It’s not even a cream pie it’s like- like- a cream feast!”

Your mom just laughs, “cream feast? I like it! Now eat it all, you little wimp. Eat mommy’s fucking creamfeast.”

You whine as you climb on the bed and kneel between your moms legs, holding onto her chubby, sweaty thighs for balance as you bent down to suck up the piles of cum that covered her.

It tasted strong and virile, thick and sweet unlike your salty, watery little virgin cums. You sucked up her pussy pie first, wetly cleaning it like a good little beta boy until her puss was bare again. You want to fuck it, to even touch it, but you couldn’t, and even if you could, her pussy was so stretched that her hole was wider than your dicklet was long. Even licking her clit did little besides earn you a smack on the head. She didn’t want any pleasure from her pathetic little son.

Next was her anal cream, an equally sticky mess flowing from her abused asshole. You ate it like candy, sucking and slurping the mix of pussy juice, anal lube, and black cum. It tasted like her butthole, sweet and warm, perfect for a superior man to fuck for ages. Her ass was stretched too, a huge gaping hole in place of her tight pucker. You couldn’t eat her ass like this, but you could scoop the cum out of it.

“I’m done, mom,” you mutter, precum leaking in a thin, weak strand from your short dick.

“Good little whiteboy,” she replied, feeling her now clean, still wet pussy and asshole, giggling as she pleasures herself. “How many times have you cum today?” She said and beckoned you closer as she gave Damarcus one last sloppy kiss on his cock.

You climb over her chubby, but still hourglass-shaped body, “only once mommy.” You mutter.

“Puny dick can’t even cum right. Are you horny? Is that pink little worm hard?”

Almost 2.5 inches bone pressed erect, it sure didn’t look like much in comparison to what she just had.

“Yes... I’m precumming. See it?”

Your mom snorts, yeah, I do. Looks like a spider web. Aren’t you supposed to be above average for a white boy? I bet Damarcus’precum is stronger than your real nut.”

“I-it is.”

“You know it’s been a whole since I last looked at it.... Is it ever gonna grow hair? Or will you just have a babydick forever?”

“Mom... you know I’m white.”

“I know, but there are some whiteboys who have a bit of pubes, or fuzzy balls. You’re just pathetic,” she poked at your ballsack, “and what’s this? A little round lump under your pointy little dick? How tiny are your balls?”

“White boys don’t drop...”

“Sweetie- you’re an idiot. I’m just teasing you! God, white boys are dumb. Of course you’ll never measure up. Your dicks the size of a toe, your balls are so small it doesn’t even look like you have two. Isn’t that funny?”

“I don’t know.. it makes me feel bad.” You complain.

She slaps your little balls, “little bitchboy! You’re supposed to feel bad. Whiteboys don’t get to be happy about their tiny dicks. I love you as a son, but you’re still a fucking loser, got it, microdick?”

“Yes ma’am.."

“Good,” she gives your tight little nutsack a small squeeze before getting up, letting you Marvel at her full, voluptuous, motherly beauty- her ass and tits were round and huge, her belly was full from eating black cum everyday, and her legs were still long and nimble enough to lock around a bull during orgasm.

You were shorter, smaller, skinnier than her, your hair more brown than her hot red bob. You clearly took after your father, a chubby white wimp who your mother loved very dearly, but still loved black men more.

She strutted out of room, butt naked, waving you over, “come on beta boy, bust your little nut then come serve us breakfast.”

Chapter 2 - Good Morning Abby

You hobble into your room and sat on your small bed, squeezing your tiny little lump of a dicklet with two thin fingers. You poke its tip and rub it like a clit, which it was barely bigger than. You knew, at least, that it was above average for a white dick- it was slightly longer than it was wide, and your skinny, weak body meant it could stick out farther. It even got rock hard.

Maybe that was why your mom would harass you so- the hormonal and genetic therapy given to white women, designed for them to have girls almost 80% of the time and for any men to be born exceptionally weak, must not have worked with you. Probably because you were one of two twins, the other being Jenny, of course, who soaked up all the femininity. That didn’t explain why your cocklet couldn’t grow hair. Maybe you were just a mistake. Granted, most white boys were hairless anyways.

Probably, after all, since your mom hadn’t had sex with your dad since you were born, as a punishment for bringing in another white boy into the world. And poor Jenny, having to spend 9 months together with a white boy. She was even bullied at school for it.

You let out a high-pitched whine as you think about how pathetic you are. Nothing gets your teenie weenie going like that. You feel your tiny little nuts tremble as another orgasm comes closer, so you grab a tissue and put it underneath your puny penis. You cum. It’s only one watery drop.

You toss it into your full trash can and walk out of your room. Your sisters hallway and your moms bedroom smelled like sweat and cum. The only time you would sweat was when running or when trying to hold in your ejaculation for over two minutes, and it always smelled more like the girls than the black guys’.

Your house was large and spacious, thanks to how hard your dad worked downtown, not to mention the bonuses your mom got from being a neighborhood organizer. Every woman you knew loved your moms taste in community Bulls.

At the end of the hallway is the curved staircase, down to the open-concept ground floor, which, like the rest of the house, has a soft white and pink palette. As always, you don’t give a second thought about walking around downstairs totally naked. Everyone did so, with women being proud of their beauty, black men of their masculinity, and with white boys having nothing to hide from their superiors.

You hop down the stairs, enjoying the bounce of your body down each step, soft skin jiggling slightly, and your tiny, flaccid baby dick bouncing upon your soft, round balls. Your feet eventually touch the cold marble floor, your chilly skin makes your pink little worm only shrivel up more.

You ignore it, enjoying the feeling of tight, compact smallness as you walk into the kitchen to pop your sister’s food into the microwave. Already there, is Max, the husband of your oldest sister, Abby. Max had a pretty, angular face with round glasses and dirty blond hair that was as stringy as his body, and a small, pointy little penis to match. Abby thought Mac was adorable, but absolutely pathetic as well, often mocking him in front of the whole family. Wimpy little guy couldn’t even afford a house, which is why he

lived with you. Abby, surely, was upstairs with her bull, Julius.

You ask if Max knows how many will come to breakfast, but he only knew his wife and bull would come. Dammit- now you’ll have to go all the way back upstairs to get your sisters up. Max just goes back to scrolling through his friends posts on Snowgram. As with most Snowgram posts, it was girls enjoying the snowbunny lifestyle.

You sigh and walk back upstairs, cold little nub of your dickie getting slightly harder as you smell the sweet aroma of interracial lust, a warmth filling your pathetic little manhood.

First, all the way down the hall, was Abigail and Julius. Technically this was Max’s room too, but you didn’t pay enough attention to your oldest sister’s life to know. You two were never close after all- she was nearly a decade older than you, in her mid twenties now, and as long as you could remember she’d be paying attention to nothing but black guys.

Julius was actually the bull who took Abby’s virginity back when they were in middle school, though they had only been back in contact for a few months, since a bit after she was married. Now he practically lived in the house, and Abby sure was happy to parade around his lean, toned body. He may have been ever so slightly shorter than Max, but he packed a proper BBC, thick and veiny and bulging like a balloon, it’s fat middle looking like the base couldn't hold it up. It sure could inside your sister though. What a whore she was- she’d even let Max fuck her every night. Said she wanted to see who’d get her pregnant first.

You were hot- thinking about your sister so distractedly this afternoon, your dick had gotten hard. A cylinder the size of a pillbug, a single little drop of precum leaking. You’re sure they wouldn’t notice.

Ear against the door, hearing nothing, you let yourself in. On the bed is only Abby, laying and sucking on her fingers, creampie dripping from her pink, used pussy.

“Oh. It’s you,” she says, “you staring, creep? Getting a little stiffie? God,” she sighs as she gets out of bed and stretches. A fat glob of cum slides down from her pussy, hanging for an instant before falling down with a splat. Your penis twitches.

“I-it’s time for breakfast,” you mutter, in awe of your sisters tall, blonde body. She looks like your mom in her younger days, only with blonde hair instead of red, a perfect receptacle for BBC.

“I know. Julius will be coming too. He’s in the bathroom- you can sneak a peak if you want to,” she teases. “Oh, and clean that up.” She goes to stand in front of a mirror, spreading her pure white ass cheeks to show her cum-filled hole, fondling her big bouncy tits, patting her exhausted abs. Abby liked to experiment with positions. She was more muscular before the started eating mom’s cooking again.

You meanwhile just had to make sure that she never noticed all the glances at her you stole as you cleaned up Julius’ thick cum. It really was a day like any other.

After you threw the tissues away, Abby pinches her clit and waves it at you. Even rock hard, you still don’t look much bigger than a clit. If only you could suck that..

Smack

Your butt stung- Abby smacked you! It didn’t hurt much, but it’s embarrassing. You clearly didn’t catch her at a good time, and she was taking her anger out on you, spanking your pale white ass and teasing your tiny dick.

“Not a penis,” she whispered at you, Queen of Spades necklace hanging between her perfect, tanned tits as she disappeared into the bathroom. You figured it was time to go too.

Then you see her phone. It was just lying open on the bed, probably holding all the pictures from her fuck sessions. You just couldn’t resist.

Upon opening it, you’re far from disappointed. His huge dick, Max’s tiny one, all over her naked body. At least a dozen pictures were taken a day- her being fucked in every hole, her mocking Max, her eating her thick creampie. It was a goldmine for a dirty little white cuckold like yourself. With two fingers, you stroked the smooth little hard on as you watch a video of Julius cumming in a glass and Abby bottoms upping it. She did this a few times over the weeks, pouring some on her body, over her pussy, or just to rub into her skin. A few pictures showed Julius cumming on a dress she later wore on a date with Max.

She’d gag on his massive cock with an outstretched arm to film, winking at the camera whenever she wasn’t choking on his length. She’d take it out and let it slap her face, the long, dark, dripping wet rod dwarfing her head.

And her ass- you could never forget your sister’s ass. She’s slimmer than your mom by far, but just made her round, soft ass all the hotter. Julius clearly loved it, eating it out in several pictures. They were taken by him. A video showed why; Abby couldn’t control herself. The pleasure of a black man’s skilled tongue in her sensitive pink asshole made her lips quiver and her eyes roll back in her head. A few other videos show him trying to fuck her ass, keyword trying. He could fit the head in before she started screaming and crying, begging him to either stop or go further. As big as her ass was, her hole wasn’t up to the challenge. All for the better, of course- she wanted him to knock her up. Based on how many creampies she got, he probably already had.

Your furious masturbation let go after barely a minute. You hobble over to cum in the same bin you threw away the tissues, but your ejactulation was less impressive by far, its thin little strands landing on more of your balls than the bin. You got out of there before Abby came out and could harass you. She’d probably be meaner to you than she was to Max. Then again, maybe you should stay...

Chapter 3 - Good Morning, Coral

After Abby, you still have six sisters to wake, and so decide to walk out of her pretty blue-walled room.

Down the hall, on the far side of your little bedroom, came out your mom from her bedroom, giggling like a far younger woman as she pulls Demarcus out too. He’s in shorts and a sleeveless tee, while she’s in an old, too-big t-shirt that covered her big ass, but her wide thighs are exposed. If she was wearing any underwear, you couldn’t tell. She turned around and winked at you, smiling cruelly at your excuse for a member, squeezing her bulls ass as they went downstairs. They’d get the coffee she’d prepared and watch some TV before anything. No rush.

There’s plenty of time to get bullied by any one of your sisters, or even some girls in the neighborhood or at school. White dicks, while cumming twenty times as fast as big black cock, could still go all day if the boy was horny enough. Give it ten minutes, your little balls could totally muster up another drop of cum to squeeze out.

Right across the hall from Abby’s room was the guest bedroom, occupied this summer by your second oldest sister, Coral. A university student with hair redder than your moms and more tattoos than almost any girl you knew, she may be the nicest to you of any of your sisters. She’d never enjoy sex with a penis like yours, of course, but she found white boys cute and funny, and always made sure not to point out their inferiority around them. Most of her tattoos weren’t even of the snowbunny kind- her arms and back were covered in vibrant vines and flowers, with only the occasional queen of spades tattoo- a vine one around her thigh, a ‘snowbunny’ flourish on her shoulder, and a squat spade with a Q in the center on her right freckly buttcheek.

You knock on the door. No response. Ear against the off-white door, you turn the knob to go in. As sweet as she is, Coral’s still a girl- well, a young lady now- with needs, and the chief of those needs was a big cock to fill those holes with. She got plenty black cock at university, but she was the kind of brightly haired, round-glasses, carefree art hoe who loved herself a good dildo. Of which she’s got plenty.

That’s what greeted you as you walked into her room- she was passed out on the bed, laying on her back, a dildo barely in her pussy and a buttplug firmly in her ass. The dildo was fat and blue, with a rounded base under the shaft and round, soft balls, molded to have large, thick veins that seemed to alone be bigger than what you were packing. You couldn’t see much of her buttplug other than that it was a rubbery black, and it seriously stretched her asshole out.

On her desk and shelf were the rest of her collection, an impressive two dozen dildoes, some of which she’d had since high school. She also had some old ones somewhere, in a drawer or in a box somewhere, but those little twigs, silicone little cylinders and finger-sized vibrators, her favorite middle school toys that she wouldn’t let mom pass down to her little sisters, could never satisfy her anymore. She’d rather use them than a white dick, but that wasn’t a high bar.

Her collection’s size humiliated you. The ones she has out, which she had been using in recent years, were almost all in the double digits in terms of inches. Her smallest still dwarfs you, an 8-inch pink noded vibrator. She has a few cylindrical vibrators, the purple one squatter than the green one, both under the 10 inch mark, along with an 8.5 inch warm up dildo, with a fleshy texture and suction cup bottom.

Curious are the colors. There were many colorful ones, and even some translucent vibrators, but plenty of her collection were huge white cocks. Some are more realistic than others, but at least four or five have similar beige flesh and ruddy pink heads. Your mother sure thinks it’s weird that Coral would ever enjoy seeing a white cock in her, even an unrealistically huge one made of silicon, but honestly it doesn’t make you feel much better about your woefully inadequate size.

She still has black ones, of course- a perfectly black, smooth two-pronged clitoral vibrator sits in the center of her collection, it’s with twice your length in places. On one side is an empty space, probably for Big Blue, the one in her right now, and on the other side is a deep chocolate god of a dildo, at least 18 inches in shaft length, thick and girthy as a football player, and just as black. Why Coral didn’t use this one every night is beyond you- hell, why Coral didn’t bring home one of the many black men she’d posted pictures with on social media stories is beyond you. Imagining her with both the dildos and the bulls, you poke your half-hard dick with one finger.

Big Blue slides out of Coral’s pussy, the tip still dripping wet from the hours of orgasms it must have brought her last night. She stirred, waking up as she saw the light peeking through her blinds .“Hey, anyone there?” She groans in a tired voice, rubbing her eyes.

You turn around, covering your small whiteness with one hand. “Just me, Coral.”

She sits up, running her hands through her scarlet curls, “oh, hey little bro. Can you put big blue up for me?”

You nod, knowing to never disobey a white goddess, picking up the large, floppy sex toy with both hands, mouth wide as you stare at it. As you put it back, you let your small hand fall from your equally wimpy crotch. Your sister notices.

“Aww, you have a little stiffy! Don’t you usually jerk off by now?”

“I-I do,” you respond, “I’ve already came two times today.”

“Well, guys do get like that.”

You nod in agreement, “Mpm and Abby’ve been shown that too today..”

“Well, you’re just like their bulls aren’t you? Just.. a bit on the smaller side.”

“A bit?”

“Oh come on, lil bro, I’m being nice! Not all girls love giant black, two foot fuckin things! Is there something wrong with me thinking white guys are cute?”

You look at her collection, then back at her. “I guess not.”

“And you’re cute too you know- I know mom and the others give you a hard time, but you’ve always been bigger for a white boy. They’re just making sure you don’t let it get to your head.”

“You think I’m cute?” You ask.

“Well, yeah?” She stretches, getting out of bed. She’s a bit taller than you, with freckles on her shoulders and perky breasts, “who cares that I’m your sister. I mean, I’ve had sex in public in front of mom! You don’t think it’s weird, right?”

You shake your head.

“Yeah- plus, plenty of girls have had sex with their black half brothers. I’ve heard Abby and Lee did it a few years back, if you could believe it.” Lee was your half-brother, who your mom had between Abby and Coral with an old bull. He was off at college now, and was definitely a sign that black genes were more dominant than white. And you could believe it.

You blush as you realize you’ve been dripping a tiny strand, thin as a spiders web, of precum down to her floor.

“Aww, look at that! You don’t make too much more, do you? I know black guy’s precum is like, way thicker than even like your cum, but like, that thing doesn’t need much to lube itself up, right?” “Thats- what they teach everyone in school,” you respond, gathering weak precum on your finger.

“I slept in biology,” she shrugged, “but if that’s a lot for you, does that mean you have to jerk off?”

You blush, “Y-yes. I’m very horny again.”

“Awww!” she smiled lovingly, “Wanna do it now? It’d be really cute.”

You know you shouldn’t. You are white after all, and her body should be reserved for black bulls. Your mom would get so mad... but you’re really horny. You look up and down the tattoos on her arms, the milk white tits and her strawberry nipples. You remember how Coral could be mean too, like when your dad had said her tattoos were unbecoming, and she threw the insult right back at him when he was jerking off his tiny, old, white dick while mom was being spitroasted in her room.

That will be you one day, jerking off as your mom or sisters or wife or daughters were blacked. If you’re even allowed to see it when you were older. You’d love to see massive black cocks pound perfect, pale white pussy for the rest of your life.

You reach a hand down and start pulling at your little underdeveloped dick. Even the skin of your tiny balls is pulled as you jerk it. It’s all one tiny little organ.

She squats down, “Aww! It’s like..” You stare at her sexy body, hoping you can be lucky enough to one

day have a girl as nice as her (in more ways than one), “Like a-a little paperclip! You see it, right? Small, kinda round, fun to play with.” She pokes it.

“Coraaaaal.”

“Sorry little bro-” she got up, “ah, I shouldn’t, but-” she rubbed her hands all over her body.

“I’m so hard Coral....” you mutter, barely a whisper.

“I know,” she gasps, touching herself, “you’re adorable. Do you- well, are you a virgin?”

You nod.

“Pfft, what am I asking, of course you’re a virgin. And I’m not, I’m sure you remember when I got my virginity taken by a BBC. But I sometimes want something a little more low-key. A little... smaller,” she sat on the bed, “Do you wanna try and fuck me?” she spread her legs.

“T-to fuck you?” You stutter, holding your breath so that your tiny cock doesn’t spurt out its buildup of droplets of cum.

“Yeah. It wouldn’t be my first time with white boy penetrating me, or, like, trying to penetrate, but yours looks a tiny bit bigger, so I’m sure I can at least feel it. And it won’t be weird because I’m not like a virgin or anything. You’ve jerked off to me before, right?”

You nod. You’ve jerked your dicklet to all your sisters of course.

“So what’s the deal?” “I’m.. just small,” you mumble.

She snorts. “So? It’s about the thrill. The taboo. Learn to live a little, kid. Of course I won’t be satisfied. Who cares? Just have fun.” She invites you with those long, colorful legs.

You give in, “I didn’t think I’d lose my virginity like this...” you mutter as you walk up to her, shuffling awkwardly as you point your little needle-dick to her wide pussy. It looked weird, the same, weak pink color of white penis and white pussy coming together. You can see why- her well-fucked, hot, didlo-loving cunt utterly dwarfs your pussy. Forget black guys, white pussy’s better than what’s between your legs. You’re scared for what comes next.

“Jeez,” she teases, “could you be any less graceful?”

You blush hotly as you feel the tip of your dicklet touch her wetness, muttering an apology under your breath. “I’m putting it in..” “Hey, I can actually feel it,” she chirps, laying down as she lets you do all the work.

You simply try what you’ve seen from your mom, sisters, and the porn they show on TV. You put your dick as far into her pussyhole as you can, barely touching a few of the walls in there, and certainly not pleasuring them.

It feels rock hard, weak white nerves stirring up hormones in your addled little brain as your head spins from pleasure. The residual wet warmth of your sister’s pussy after her night of masturbation feels incredible. Your heart pounds as your dicklet quivers.

“C’mon little bro, I believe in you,” she mutters.

You listen to her. Yeah, you’re a whiteboy, but you’re above average! And you’re decent enough, in one way or another, to have your hot-ass sister fuck you! So you know that you can make this worth it. Maybe even-

You lose your train of thought as you thrust in and out of her. That’s barely anything, so they’re tiny thrusts, of course, but that only makes it feel like you’re pounding into her soft, unblemished inner thighs, tattoo-less hips, and horny incestuous pussy even more. It’s not like what a black guy would do, it’s what YOU- You totally lose whatever you’re thinking of as your eyes roll back in your head, you cum at in no time at all.

Instinctually, you pull it out and let it drip on the floor. If you’d impregnated any white girl, mom would kill you.

As you let the last droplet fall, you look at your sister’s loving face.

“Awww man...” all that love, and still, she’s disappointed.

Chapter 4 - Good Morning Mary...

You leave corals room embarrassed, tiny dick shrinking back up into your smooth little crotch until the flaccid nub disappears

You walk out of her room and sigh, looking at your disappointing size. Your balls buzz, wanting more. You’ll jerk off again before and after brunch, at least. Stream some live blacked, edge to the Humiliation Channel for all of 30 seconds, some very fun things. Such was your life everyday, jerking off to massive, dark, powerful, swinging, hung black cock as BBC tattooed white girls take them in their horny pink pussies.

Either way, next you had to get the rest of your sisters up, going down in the jack and Jill bedrooms, which shared a bathroom, occupied by the twins, both seniors at your school- On the left is Ellie, a big, curvy girl with an ass and tits to rival your mom, whose body shape she matched most of all the girls, albeit more athletically dispositioned. She’s a cheerleader and volleyball player, and definitely in the top 5 most popular girls at your high school, meaning she always had a black boy up in her panties. Her current boyfriend is Andre, basketball player, a center big enough to be a footballer, who you know was packing over 18 inches of blackness. A massive, ripe banana to your grape.

On the right is Mary, Ellie’s polar opposite. Thin and flat, she’s never had a boyfriend, and only been fucked by a BBC on her birthday, when young girls typically were, and in the occasional threesome with her sister and whoever she dated at the time. As some girls put it, Mary’s a femcel- shut in and bitter, she’s resentful of your sisters for being more attractive than her and at black boys for not finding her sexy enough. She especially hates white boys though, never missing a chance to let her frustration out on you. Honestly, it’d be better for her to just be normal. She spends most of her days reading and writing porn stories about BBC, instead of just getting laid. You can’t ever say that, of course, or you’d get your ass beat and your balls smacked.

You’d still fuck Mary in a heartbeat though. She’s certainly hotter than your hand on your babydick. Or rather, your fingers. You’d give anything for a shot at a white girls vagina, even right after you disappointed Coral. If only one would show any interest...

You’re a sick little perv aren’t you? A schoolboy, a little white wimp who fantasizes about fucking his sisters, (mostly) beautiful young women who no one who isn’t black stands a chance with. You mentally scold yourself, sounding like Mrs. Bain, your school's discipline officer. You resist the urge to reach your hand down and yet again pull at your tiny, smooth cock, and actually do what you’re here for.

You go to the door on the right, knocking gently before opening it. It seems everyone sleeps in on summer weekends. Mary is passed out on her desk, butt ass naked, loose, small breasts hanging down. It wasn’t the most attractive, but neither was she. Your dicklet was still hard.

Balls aching, you walk up to her, light feet not making noise on the soft carpeted floor. Her laptop is still open in front of her, and her right hand is barely on it. You could easily see she what she’s been doing...

Since Mary is your only sister (well, only sister who was of age) who doesn’t get regularly fucked, you’ve figured that she’s gotta finger herself A LOT to make the moans you hear from her room... and she has to have something to stimulate all that... and, well, your curiosity gets the better of you.

You press the power button on the laptop and the screen turns on, showing you what your sister was pleasuring herself to in the wee hours of this morning. Several tabs were open- some erotica, some porn, all BBC. She has pictures and videos of enormous black cocks, stuffed inside dozens of white girls. Some in pussy, some in ass, some getting run train, all looking ecstatic. Familiar stuff to you- your sister has similar tastes. No white dicks though- she seems to like the kinds where those tiny things are kept behind the camera. You can’t really blame her.

What really catches your eye is a porn page of Mr. Africa- the man with the biggest BBC on earth, nearly three whole feet long. He could touch his chest with the lip of its mean purple head, and it dwarfed every white woman who faced it. You know Mr. Africa has a black wife, as no white girl has ever managed to take his godly cock, though plenty had tried, and plenty more want to try. Including Mary, it seems. How stupid- Mr. Africa was WAY out of any league she could be in. No way would she even get the chance.

You also notice a story open on her Word doc- a page titled ‘Taking Mr. Africa.’ Of all things it was a fapfiction, 2nd-rarer erotica written about her and some of her few friends having sex with Mr. Africa’s unrivaled cock. She went into vivid detail, writing about how he’d pick up her thighs and slam his ‘monster dick’ across her torso, his huge, grapefruit-sized balls against her weak pussy, his dick going all the way to her cleavage. It seems her self-insert has bigger tits than she really does.

More paragraphs, about how her friends helped her suck his godly cock, how 8 hands could be on it and not touch at all, how his huge balls smelled like pure sex, making them drool as they smothered their faces. Mary even wrote herself worshipping his ass, eating it out. You know your mom eats her lovers ass often, but you’ve only seen it once. You wonder how many times Mary, just a year older than you, has. She’s clearly seen or read about it some way, based on the detail she puts into describing how she kisses and tongues his black asshole, loving the taste of his anus in her mouth, while her arms wrap around his huge, strong thighs to feel his manly black balls, too big to even fit in her hands.

You realize how much you want your ass eaten, or at least played with. You’ve been offered BBC dildoes, but never practiced enough to take them. You weren’t a sissy, but you start to consider fingering your butt sometime soon. Maybe a girl would even eat it- after all, yours was bald, pink, and smooth, unlike the rugged manliness of a black man’s.

You read on, how her 3 friends all work on his cock, one at the tip and two at the sides. How they can’t even come close to fitting any of him in their mouths is written about, along with a description of his thick veins and strong pelvic muscles. She wrote that one of his veins is thicker than most white cocks she’s seen. You’re pretty sure she’s only seen yours and dads, but still, you have to check. Clicking on another tab, you go to his webpage and look at the public pictures of his actual cock- it’s depressingly massive, looking as long as your leg, while you have to pinch your legs together when you compare. His veins might just be thicker than your whole dick. It’s not called a micropenis for nothing.

You keep reading- how he fucks all of them, getting a half or a quarter of his dick into the others, while Mary cums the second his tip sinks into her hole.

‘I squirt more than I ever have before, the arc of my juices flying further than I thought they could. Still, as far as my orgasm sent them, they didn’t reach Mr. African’s crotch. His cock was that long.’

You gulp as you read that, sore little cocklet hard again. You use her laptop’s touch pad to look at other tabs, many with BBC. One has a comparison of the average white boy, the worlds smallest black man, the worlds biggest white boy, and of course, Mr. African. The average white boy, of course, is a little under two inches or so. You already know that the smallest white penis is impossible to know, because so many are less than a tenth of an inch long. The smallest black man, you’re surprized to know, is a tiny 4.5 inches, not much smaller though than the world record white boy, 5 inches. All are dwarfed by even the average BBC, of course.

Your sister stirs, mumbling “Babe... uhhhhh... babe.. Gimme... gimme that cock...” she said, wetly smaking her words together as she reaches out her hand, grabbing right in front of you.

You blush at the thought. Her hand was right there, wanting to grab a cock. Sure, yours was a little white dick, but you wanted it, she wanted it, so--

You shuffle forward, letting her fingers rest on your white boi clitty. They rub against it, before starting to almost pet the tiny thing involuntarily.

"Is thissa cock?" she mutters, eyes closed, "it's smallll.... it's gotta be soft... is it hard? Why'ssit hard.... are you a white boy?" she snickers, "white boy white boy... tiny dick white boy.... thass dumb... I only like black guys.... nobody likes whiteboys... why's it so hard and small?...." she strokes it, easily feeling the entirety of its length with a few fingers, surprised by the tininess. She feels up your little balls, "unnf... not black in the sack... either.... it's like a baby's..." she giggles, letting her hand slip off your throbbing tininess. You jump, not wanting the stimulation to end, and grab her hand to push her palm up against your smooth little member. Her hand engulfs the miniscule thing, feeling warm and soft. You nearly cum. But then- she jumps.

"What the fuck?!" she yells, looking at you, "Were you- using me to jerk off?!" she sees her laptop, gasps, and swings her leg up to kick your pathetic balls, "and you looked at my porn!? WHAT THE FUCK?"

You fall onto your hands and knees in pain, muttering an apology, "please don't tell mom- I-I was just supposed to wake you up for breakfast. I didn't mean too..."

"Stupid little fucking whiteboy can't control himself. Figures. AND you saw me naked. Gross. get the fuck out of my room, bitch, I'll be down for breakfast after I'm done washing my hands."

You can't do anything but do as she says, and leave her room, hands between your legs, hoping she doesn't tell mom.

Chapter 5 - And Good Morning Ellie

You close Mary’s door behind you as you put your hand over your white boy dick. It shudders. Small size making it weak against the cold hallway. Your tiny balls are clenched up, ready to cum. If you stroked it once, or even just pushed it down, you’d cum. You know it.

You walk down the hallway to the banister above the main area of the house. There’s mom, eating Demarcus’ ass on the couch, while Abby’s hubby jerks off with a tissue. Mom never ate ass, but made an exception for her favorite huge, old black lover. She was messy, sloppy, drooling all over Damarcus’ older asshole, licking every inch of it. She probably did it because he’d do it to her- Damarcus adores eating ass, and your moms fat, full ass is probably the best he could get. She rarely came from butt stuff, but that was mostly because her asshole was tight. Both were enjoying this now. Breakfast might have to wait a little.

You still have to go and wake up your other sisters though, so you probably shouldn’t tug one out here. You turn around, walking back to the twin bedrooms, this time to Ellie’s door. You rub the straining tip of your penis, trying hard as it can to reach that next half inch, as you knock on the door. You stop before you cum, right as it opens.

You’re greeted by a huge, tall black boy, maybe a few years older than you, leaner than Damarcus. His hair is in a short fade and he’s unshaven on both his face and body, all covered in sweat. Right in front of your body swings his massive, half-hard black cock. It has an even width with a very round head, easily the length of your torso. It twitches, and pushes up against you. You can feel it’s warmth, it’s weight, it’s wetness. Your sisters been fucking this massive pole. Impulsively, you cum.

Your face turns bright red as you realize Andre, Ellie’s boyfriend, is watching your tiny penis dribble cum into the carpet. He cracks up laughing, slamming his chest with a big, strong hand and the other one in a fist in front of his mouth, yelling “Yooooooo-“

He steps back laughing as you feel horribly embarrassed. You should’ve known this was gonna happen. As he steps back, Ellie comes forward.

God, she’s gorgeous, tanned and curvy, thick legs strapped with muscle. She could probably crush you between those thighs- and your dicklet? Forget it.

“What’s going on?” She asks. She’s naked too, and her long, strawberry blonde hair is wet with sweat. You wonder how she was fucked through the night. She didn’t have to wonder what you stayed up until 4 am doing, cumming twice every hour since midnight.

“Your lil bitch brother came right in front of me!” Andre laughs on her bed. He sits on the messy, damp sheets.

Ellie’s eyes widen and she to cracks up. “HA HA!” she points at you, walking over without bothering to cover her huge tits or perfectly smooth, tanlined crotch. “Bro- did you seriously cum at Andres’ dick? I

mean, it’s fuckin great, almost like nineteen, twenty inches, but seriously? I didn’t know you were a faggot!”

You blush, unable to move. She walks, no, struts right over to you with a mocking look on her face.

“I-I’m not gay,” you insist.

“Then what are you? If you like men you’re gay, sissy boy. I’ll lick pussy, especially if it has black cum in it, and I don’t give a fuck about if you call me a lesbo. I hear you moaning like a little girl in your room, porn on your tv. Ya watch sissy boy porn, with little white “boy,”” she makes air quotes, “butts being fucked by bbc? Little sissyclits being compared to things like that?” She points to Andre behind her, huge cock swinging as he walks to put his bag of XXL condoms in his letterman’s pocket, “or how your tiny little baby balls shoot watery fucking loads while black dick creams your ass?”

You can’t keep up with Ellie’s motormouth. She was an excellent speaker- always hyped her team up before games, and always new how to make you feel bad. She’s probably your moms favorite. You’d just have to tell the truth.

“I c-cummed,” you stutter, “I came because I saw how wet his dick was, and... I imagined it fucking you!”

That just made her laugh even more, “AHAHAHAHAHAHA!” She bent over, letting her big perfect tits flop as they adjusted to gravity. “You little cuck faggot- I’m pretty sure that still makes you gay.”

“I’m nottt!” You insist, staring at her beautiful tits bounce with every breath and movement she makes. Your pin dick gets hard again, desperately wanting to blow a little load onto your sisters heavenly tits. A single nipple could probably smother your miniscule hard on as her massive, fit ass was clapped by a huge cock.

“Look Andre, he’s getting hard again!” She points, struggling to no collapse from laughing at you.

“Babe, he’s a whiteboy, what do you expect? Let him have his fun,” said Andre in a cool, deep voice, walking out of the bathroom looking perfectly clean with smooth, chocolatey skin and a cock hung like your arm, “Ay, whiteboy, wanna play a game?”

“A- a game?” You ask. You try to avoid staring at his half hard megacock, then try to avoid looking jealously at his lean and roundedly muscled body, until you look at his face.

“Yeah. I’m horny, youre horny, how about we jerk off and see how we compare? I’ll go easy on you, totally loose, no stamina, got it?”

“Well- I can't do much-“

“C'mon boy, it’ll be fun. Did Ellie ever tell you bout how when I was fucking Mrs. Danksworth, all her family members watched? I’d say you’re bigger than all those white boys.”

“Not that that’s saying much,” laughs Ellie on the bed.

“Okay- but we need to get breakfast!” You insist.

“Won’t take too long. I’ll even stand further back than you. I wanna see how that little thing shoots,”

“You’re fucking gay too, Andre,” laughs Ellie.

“So what I like fuckin white boys? They look like girls anyways!” Both laugh at you.

“I still need to wake up Jenny and Katie and-“

“Cmon lil bro, we know you’re a quick shot!” Mocks Ellie.

“Fine,” you surrender like a typical white boy.

“Aight,” he says, “Ellie, put on a show with that gorgeous ass of yours.”

She smiled, bending over on the bed and sticking her ass up, beginning to shake it in wide circles. It ripples with muscles and the smallest two few of fat, swollen from the thousands of squats she religiously did just to show off to black guys. She warmed up a bit, the broke into a full on twerk.

“Mm babe, twerk that ass,” says Andre, hand going all the way up and down his massive pole of a cock, jerking off as his girlfriend, your sister, twerks like a pro. He arches is back and relaxes, knowing that whatever he does it’ll be more than satisfying for any horny white girl.

You jerk your little cock to her too, but to hope that you can clean it from her asscheek instead of the carpet, you hobble forward, hand tightly around and totally hiding your hairless dick. Your little balls clench as your hear the sound of her ass clapping right in front of you. You smell the sweet, horny sweat of her legs too, the kind she always smelled like when she came home after winning a volleyball game and getting fucked in the locker room. This was your weakness.

It was all your weakness- Ellie was always the ‘dominant’ sister of her age range, as both Coral and Abby were quite a bit older than her, as compared to how the two sets of twins in your family were so close. Ellie always domineered over you along with mom, and was influential in Jenny’s development as a BBC slut just like all the rest of them. Ellie was often sweet, but whenever people from school were around, she was crueler than Mary. Just getting to jerk off to her twerking ass, for real, not in your 3 am fantasies, was a blessing.

“Mmm fuck,” moaned Andre, dick wet and slick and with sloppy noises to boot, “I’m not even gonna try to control myself- I’m cummin fast as I can!”

You keep jerking off, instead of using a few fingers, instead using your full hand, and your other to massage your balls. You wish you could control yourself, but honestly, it’s impossible to take your hand off your cold little baby dick, especially with Andre’s hot, massive member just feet away. You hope you can at least control your orgasm better than ever before, so that you and Andre can meet in the middle for cumming on Ellie. It wasn’t likely though. You really were a quickshot.

Surprisingly enough with a strong, manly, “ARRGGGHHHHH,” from Andre, he aggressivley slammed his hand against his crotch and threw his head back as he came, huge, hanging black balls tightening up to deliver yet another load in this room, already smelling deliciously like black cum.

He shot a massive arc of hot, thick ropes onto Ellie, practically cumming on her from across the room, landing in thick, strong pools on her back and bed, with one drop going splat on her sheets just close enough for her to lick. Another lands on her asscheek, a big glob of superior cum jostled by her fast ass-shaking.

She stops twerking, using her thin hands to gather up her boyfriend’s delicious cum and eat it right up. Thanks to how much she twerked, all the cum blasted into her guts was upset, and soon came flowing from her used butthole.

You waddle forward, feeling the little squirt inside your crotch that tells your excuse for a dick you’re about to cum. You do, lifting your thin hips to try and get as close to her butt as possible,

You cum, tiny little spurts jumping out of the quivering tip of your dick. Some land on the muscular upper portion of her ass, well-lit by her girly ceiling fan. Most just grazed the supple skin of the curve of her ass, little drops barely sticking onto them. Some fell onto her feet.

“Goddamn! I was like 6 feet back and I still came farther than you, boy!” laughed Andre.

“And nobody was surprised,” smiled Ellie evily, holding her hand between her soft thighs to cup the cum flowing from her asshole and closing her legs so they didn’t drip further. You stare at your little droplets sprinkled on them, feeling that this was your best orgasm today. You knew what came next.

Ellie stretched out her right leg, the one you came on. "Lick it up!" she demanded. Your cleaning duties were not a surprise.

If black cum tasted like thick, sweet and salty drink, and girl's juice was sticky sweet nectar, than your wimpy little fluids were probably best described as sugar water.

You swallowed every drop.

Chapter 6 - A Good Morning to Jenny

After sucking the sweet sweat and your thin cum from Ellie’s goddess ass, you told them to go down for brunch soon. Your face was beet red the whole time.

You excused yourself, waking across the hall to your room to check your phone for messages. Some from your friends, all boys. Why would girls text you of all people anyways?

After that, you went to the room next to yours, but on the other side. While on the right wall, where the bed was up against, was your mom’s room, the other side, to the left, was your twin sister, Jenny’s room.

Jenny has light auburn hair and a thin frame and, like you, above average assets. For you, it was an extra almost-inch to your penis, but for her, it was perfectly smooth skin, especially for her big perky tits and round sexy ass. The only blemishes on her were three freckles on the bridge of her nose, which might have made her cuter.

She was probably the sister you knew best, bro your twin. You often had the same classes together and would even help her send nudes to her boyfriends sometimes, but she also had a rough edge. She was sort of Ellie’s opposite, who was nice in public but loved tormenting you in private. Jenny was always cruel to you at school, but was rather nice at home. “It’s just social shit. No need to get so pissy about it,” she told you when you once asked why she loved joining in when you were being bullied. “I actually really like you, bro, but what would the girls think if I showed it? Besides, little white dicks are literally always so funny.”

You didn’t like that part of her. Yeah, gossiping after school and talking about movies and books and tv was fun, but she was always cold when you wanted her to be consistent in her affection. You wish you’d gotten more out of everything you’ve done for her. You’ve made her lunches, shaved her pussy, helped her in homework. You even told her the penis sizes of every white boy in the grade. Nobody but Jenny and you knew you did that. If she cared enough to keep the secret, of course.

Still, you knew that once school started, she’d become a total sadist to you. You just figured it was how white girls were. Maybe you should learn your place better.

You open her door. Her room had girly lavender furniture, with a desk, nightstand, shelf, and dresser all the same color wood, with the same white carpet as everywhere else in the upstairs, and pale rosy walls. The room looked enchanting with her lacy white curtains, but it was freezing.

She always kept her room cold, while you liked it warm. It makes your balls feel like they could swing just a little bit, and your dick hang a few fractions of an inch lower. This cold air makes your ballsack wrinkle up against your little whiteboy taint like a lump, and your pee pee shrivels inside your body until it looks like a little bug bite.

Jenny especially liked it when dicks were really tiny. Yours especially.

She had never had a white boyfriend, and only had a few flings with black boys in the past 2 years of high school. Now, though, you see someone next to her in bed. It’s a long, thin, smooth black hand over her shoulder as she sleeps.

“Jenny?” You whisper, trying to get her up. You poke her cheek to make her stir, but then feel some weird texture on it. You realize this is the same thing you often woke up feeling in your smooth, hairless white tummy, but much thicker.

It’s cum. Your twin sisters face is covered in cum!

You pull down the covers to expose her body. She’s totally naked, and beautiful as ever. Her tits had gotten even rounder since the last time you took nudes for her. Her pubic hair was shaved into a cute, neat little landing strip. You’re jealous of her hair down there.

On the other side of her, you almost think it’s a girl with how lean the deep black body was. But you know Jenny wasn’t a lesbian, and all of the black guys at your school are manlier than this. So what gives?

Then the body turns over, and you see why Jenny was sleeping with him. He has an average black dick, a hugely long thing, even though it’s half hard at most. It’s longer than your arm, and very smooth. Almost as smooth as your immature teeny white thing. Weird.

Then Jenny stirred. “Wha..” she blinked, rubbing her hand from her sexy belly button to her puss. That’s one of moms mannerisms. She does it after she got fucked.

“Jenny!” You whisper, covering your microdick with your little hand, “who is that guy?”

“Wha- oh, shit!” She jumps up quickly, but with enough grace to not wake the boy who fucked her up. She gets on her feet, being a hair taller than you despite technically being younger, and puts her hands on your shoulders. “Please don’t tell mom about him. Pretty please?”

“H-hey Jenny,” you stutter, scared of how close her pussy and tits to the wimpier dick in the room, “why would she care? She’s happy with the rest fucking any guys they like here. What’s wrong with this?”

“It’s just..” she blushes. You were one of the only people Jenny would let herself blush in front of. Well, at home at least, at school she loved bullying you and all your tiny dicked friends for that exact reason. She continues, “he's my boyfriend!”

You pause. “Jenny, that’s great! How long have you been dating?”

“Three months,” she admits.

“That’s so wonderful! Your longest boyfriend ever! Why haven’t you told anyone?” You’re genuinely happy that she’s in a relationship with a black guy with such a long dick. It makes you happy that she’ll be fucking that thing every night for the next few months. And a little horny.

“We aren’t public yet. So you’d better not tell anyone. Got it?”

“Okay, okay,” you say, backing up from her naked body. She really is a beautiful girl, with perky tits that bounce like gel packs, with a marvelously thin body and just enough flesh on her tummy to be squeezable. You can’t see her ass, but just thinking of the round, perked thing makes the tiny, straw-like rod of your micropenis buzz at its very base, deep inside your pathetic, cum-eating, horny little servile white boy body.

It’s not fair how effortlessly she looks so good, when your white boy body was so unimpressive, with a featureless torso, narrow shoulders, and skinny arms. You loved her for it though.

“And stop checking me out!” she snaps with a hushed whisper. “Why are all white boys such incestous little creeps?”

“D-didn’t you have me shave your taint once when you were face timing Lee after you traded nudes?” You try to sound cocky in your defence, but your stutter makes it sound wimpy. It was cocky, if cockiness was applied to tiny white cocks.

“Shut up,” she turns redder, “I’m warning you! Besides, it doesn’t count if they’re half brothers. And black!”

“Okay, okay,” You say, trying to whisper again as the black guy on the bed stirred. He didn’t look too strong, but you were always afraid of how bad any black guy could hurt you. Especially with a cock like that. It looked like a skyscraper! Yours was, at best, a house. Not even this house, this house was two stories and an attic. Like a one story house. You shudder, trying to shake the thought of huge black dicks compared to the misplaced pinkie toe on your crotch after how much Ellie called you gay. “So,” you say, trying to get back on subject, “Why do you wanna keep this a secret? And who is he?”

She gets really close to your face, like she was scared mom would hear, even though she’s obviously downstairs, moaning while Damarcus fucks her. “His name’s Jaylon, and he’s gonna be a freshman starting this next year.”

“A freshman?” you ask, realizing why he didn’t look as manly “Wait, so you started dating him back when he was in-”

“I know!” she hushes.

“By the time he’s our age we’ll be starting college!”

“I know!” she grabs you again, “I met him last year as a student ambassador. He’s a really, really good distance runner. Not the fastest or the strongest, but he had stamina like nobody the talent scouts have ever seen,” she says.

“Stamina?” you joke.

“Yeah,” she breathes hotly, biting her lower lip and staring off into space with her doe eyes. You look at her little nose freckles and feel her cold hands on her arms. Your little dick moves a little, getting just a

tiny bit out of its teenie weenie shelter. “He was so fucking good last night. Came like a firehose.”

Very recently, you remember how Jenny said that you came like a leaky faucet.

“But... he’s just a kid,” you say defensively.

“Blah, blah,” she backs up, crossing her arms, “You know you aren’t even half the man he is.”

You feel embarrassed. Your clitty likes it.

“So... Jenny’s dating a guy who isn’t even a freshman yet...” you say to yourself.

That gets her upset, as expected. You know your sister. She’s the only person you’ve ever been able to act confident in front of. That’s been increased by the long summer meaning she hasn’t publicly humiliated you once. That would soon change.

“Don’t you dare fucking tell anyone. Please, please don’t! I’ll literally do anything!”

“Anything?” You ask her, thinking of Coral. “C-c-can I fuck you?” you stutter excitedly.

She stops. “Can you.. What?”

You suddenly turn very red.

She rolls her eyes. “You’re fucking gross. You really wanna fuck Jaylon’s sloppy seconds? He may be younger than you, but his cum is probably, like, ten times thicker than anything your wimpy little balls ever whipped up. You really want that?”

You nod, stroking your tiny worm to hardness.

She sighs. “Fine. But you’ll literally never tell a soul, even after we go public. That’s not your place. And you’d better not make a sound, or Jaylon will kill you,” she adds venomously.

“I promise,” you say

“I sure won’t be making a peep,” she rolls her eyes.

You waddle over to her with your dickie between two fingers.

“Ugh,” she closed her eyes, “Just stop touching it! You know I hate little white dicks.”

“S-sorry,” you mutter, licking your lips like a little pervert as you wrap your arms around your twin sister’s as you slowly raise your effeminate crotch to meet hers. With them very close together, your nubby little dick is finally close enough to rub against the folded opening to her pussy. She closes her eyes. You get ready to go into your second pussy today, and have sex for the second time in your life.

But then, as the weak, pink tip of your puny penis pushed open her labia, her hole gapes open, and out

runs a huge glob of thick, pearly cum.

The fat drop of cum that Jaylon had shot in her pussy hours ago comes flowing out with a bubbly pop. It falls right onto your dick, and that one, single drop of nut covers your entire penis. If your dicklet was a caterpillar, this thick, sticky cum was its cocoon. Some even gets some on your balls. You don’t know if that says more about how much cum Jaylon’s balls make, or how truly tiny white boys’ dicks were.

Either way, the way the hot, sticky fluid felt all over your shaky little penis was too much. It actually sticks to your penis, unlike any pussy, which is far two wide for you to feel anything. You moan pathetically as you enjoy this cum on your dick. It’s too much for you. You cum, shooting out maybe two little drops. They get lost in Jaylon’s.

“What’s happening?” she opens her eyes as more drops of cum flow down out of her pussy, actually pleasuring her, which she didn’t expect you to do. “Oh,” she says, trying not to laugh, “You got my creampie. Told you you’d be fucking sloppy seconds.”

You don’t do anything as you let more hot cum drip from her cunt to your smooth little crotch. Your face is beet red.

“What are you doing?” She asked.

“I- I already came,” you choke.

She really laughed then “Seriously? You didn’t even fucking put it in me? You came just by feeling his cum?”

You nod, “It’s just... so hot.”

“Well, it is better than anything that could come out of your little dick,” she ruffles your hair. Suddenly, Jaylon starts to get up. “Fuck,” she whispers, “If you don’t wanna get you ass kicked, clean it all off yourself! Make sure not one drop hits the floor! I know mom makes sure you’re an expert cleaner!”

You obey her, scooping up his huge loads of cum and your tiny little one off your body with your hands, pouring it into your mouth and licking your fingers clean. Then you put your mouth on her pussy, pushing her back into her nightstand, and suck all the fluid you can out of her.

“What’s goin’ on?” asks Jaylon as he sits up.

“My little brother is just cleaning my creampie like a good whiteboi, you know?” she tells him, pushing your face deeper in her creamy crotch.

“Aight. I’m gonna go to the bathroom,” he says, getting out of bed.

After he’s gone, and your twin is all clean, you get up from eating her pussy.

“Okay bro,” she says, sounding awake, “Why’d you even come in here? You know you aren’t allowed to just jerk off to us whenever you want anymore. Mom'll kill you."

"Wha-" you wipe the cum from your lips. "Oh, yeah, mom wanted me to tell you breakfast was ready. Max is making it today."

"That's it?"

You nod.

"You're a dumbass." She says.

"Well... I gotta get Katie and Lily up," you say, leaving. That was the nicest thing you've done with your sister in a long time.

Chapter 7 - A Good Morning for Lily

What always struck you odd (when your little whiteboi brain was actually thinking about the silly, nerdy things whitebois liked to think about when they weren’t rubbing off, getting ready to rub off, or cleaning up their puny cums) was how the room arrangement changed when you got to the younger sisters. Most of the upstairs was taken up by the open space above the big family room, with a chandelier hanging down. It was what you saw when you first walked into the house. If you went straight in and took a bit of a left, you’d go up the rounded staircase to the landing and upstairs hallway. Right in front of that was the master bedroom. It was big and luxurious, and had total access to the back balcony. Black boys would sometimes jump off it into the pool in the back. When your mom wasn’t home, of course. But the hallway was rather normal. It went straight back, with a bathroom at the end. On either side of that were the oldest sisters, Abby and Coral, and then on the sides were the two sets of twin’s rooms, Mary and Ellie, and you and Jenny. At the end on the right side, right next to yours, was the guest bedroom. You could go from oldest to youngest child by walking down the hall, but that was ruined when you got to turn to the two bedrooms whose doors overlooked the living room, because the first door was your youngest sister, and the second was your second-youngest. Oh well. You were still going to get them up in order. First you went to your youngest sister, Lily’s room. You knock on the door. It actually opens itself. Well, Lily opened it. Either way, you think to yourself, finally. You wouldn’t have to shake your sisters off of their horny all-nighter activit- Actually, when the door swung wide open, your petite little sister Lily was totally naked. “L-Lily! What are you doing? Why are you naked.” With big, pretty hazel eyes, Lily just blinked and looked you up and down. She cracked a teeny bit of a smirk when going over your exposed little thing. “You’re naked too,” she pointed out. Oh- yeah, that’s true. “But I was doing this to help mom with her bull…” you explained. “Okay, well, mommy said that I should sleep naked too if I was feeling funny around her and our sister’s bulls,” she explained right back. Feeling funny? Oh. You knew this was going to happen eventually. Katie was finally getting to the age where it was legal to fuck black men. And that age was chosen for a reason. That reason was that it was what girls wanted. She was probably getting insanely horny over every black guy she saw, and even more when there were ones in the bedrooms so close to hers. She stretched and yawned big. “I’m so tired!” “Tired?” You asked, “It’s one in the afternoon!” “Yeah, but I got to sleep at like 4 am!” 4 am? What was she doing? You were gonna ask her, but then you noticed a new poster on her wall- she was a teenage girl, so of course she had a bunch of pretty boys plastered all over the wall. Most of them were whitebois or korean guys, all looking super effeminate with smooth, pale skin and big eyelashes. It kind of made you feel good that girls liked the sort of guy you were. Sure, you were tiny and effeminate, but at least they thought you were cute! Something big changed though. In the middle of her wall, put over all her old posters and stickers, was a 4-foot-tall pin up of a black model, buff as hell, oiled up so his dark brown skin was shiny, covered in tattoos, and with a bulge in his underwear that went down to his knees. “W-what were you doing to stay up so late?” you asked. “Oh,” she giggled, “I was playing with myself!” “Playing with yourself?” you had to ask. “Yes! With my kitty!” she smiled big. Lily spread her little legs open and showed you her pink, bare pussy. It had some juices still in it, and plenty of white stuff coated her folds, “Katie taught me how to touch it last week,” she ran a finger through it. Damn! “And she showed me how good this button thing here feels!” she pointed at her clitoris. “Yeah,” you explain, “that’s your clit. It’s the best part of a girl’s body. That’s what mom always tells me when I- uhmm…” you stop out of embarrassment. “When you eat her out after her bulls fuck her?” she asked with another giggle. “Y-yeah,” you say. You really never had it confirmed how much your baby sister knew. You liked to think it was nothing, that she was perfect and innocent. That couldn’t be the case of course. Not with her too being raised in the same house as the mother of all snowbunny sluts. That BBC-loving MILF was a horrible influence on your little sister- but it was soooo hot. “W-what did you touch yourself thinking of?” you had to ask that too. “Oh- I was thinking of being a real big girl- like mommy! And getting to feel really good all day, everyday, from those big hot black guys!” “Just like our sisters…” you muttered. You hoped Lily would still be nice to you, even though she’d embraced being another black only girl in the black ruled world. “Yeah,” she smiled, oblivious, “and all my friends sisters too! They’ve all started to touch themselves thinking of black boys, like we’re big girls!” her eyes were so wide and excited, “Aren’t you proud of us!” “Yeah…” you said, thinking of how mad mommy would get if she learned you were trying to make Lily stop falling in love with black men. But on the other hand, your insecurity about your tiny, pathetic little white nub, all hard because of your virginal little sister, made you talk. “But I thought you liked white boys? Or those k-pop guys?” She made a face. “Yeah… they’re really cute! But Katie and Ellie and Mommy always tell me, white boys are cute, but black guys are HOT! And look at the new poster I got,” she pointed at the buff, nearly naked black man on her wall, “he’s so hot. Like, you’re cute,” she said. “Wait, really?” you ask. “Oh yeah- I’ve talked to girls who are all like ‘oh, Lily, your big brothers so cute!’ I can’t say who though…” she smirked, “but anyways- you’re cute, but you’re kinda, erm, small, and you aren’t really that muscular, but look at him!” she pointed at him again, “he’s soooo hot! I was up all night touching myself thinking about him!” It really was over. Everyone in your house was a total slave to the BBC. But of course, you were so, so turned on by it. Your little clit dick was dripping. If either of you barely rubbed it, it’d probably dripple the biggest load of today onto her carpet. Ignoring your babydick as you knew all girls would, she stretched again and put on a big t-shirt to cover all her pink little girly bits. “I’m hungry, bro. When’s breakfast ready?” “It’s brunch,” you corrected, “and it actually should be ready by now. That’s why mommy actually told me to come get you.” “Oh, alright,” she nodded, running up to you, and to your big surprise, hugged you! She jumped on you and gave you a big hug, digging her head and soft, sweaty hair into your chest, “Thanks bro! I love you!” She then just kept running downstairs, that big t-shirt flapping, almost revealing her butt and pussy a few times. You looked, but didn’t dare leave the room. Your clitty was so hard… so ready to collapse into another tiny bitchboy orgasm. You thought about her small, pink little budding tits press against you, how good they felt now that her girly little boobies were growing a bit. You imagined them growing bigger, like your other sisters’ had. Would she stay the nicest of them? Or would she be cruel with her newly growing body? As much as you wished she’d be your sweet, loving baby sister forever, you knew that now that she was legal, she’d become a true slut for BBC. If she wanted to abuse you and tease you and rub your face in it, it was her right. You thought of her titties growing when a black guy makes her pregnant. And of course, of her smooth, young buttcheeks under that shirt, rubbing together as she ran. You thought the same about her wet pussy and pink little asshole. How long until she began anal play? It scared and excited you. Maybe you would help her. After all, with your small body and tiny penis, you were proportioned perfectly to have sex with a girl her size. But that would never happen. It was disgusting, you knew, to want that with your little sister. Your mom would kill you, not because you were gross, but because you touched her- after all, your mom had no issue with being gross, happily making you eat her anal creampies. If you were lucky, Lily would let you do that after she got fucked. Fucked by a real man. You felt so frustrated. Her pussy and ass had to be so tiny, but of course, those massive, spoiled black cocks had exclusive rights to them. Black men were soon gonna start doing whatever they wanted with her as they pleased, and you had to let them. Let their big cocks stretch out her holes, while you’d always be cucked and denied. It was just the way the world was meant to be. That was all it took. You shuddered, feeling your little sissy butthole tighten up, your balls clench even smaller. Relief came. You’d be denied forever, as a white boy, but at least your mommy decided she’d let you cum, right? As you came, you thought how good that tiny, watery drop, leaking from your babypenis’ head, sliding down the full inch and a half of your shaft, and sitting on the little line of skin down the middle of your tiny, smooth balls, felt. It felt so damn good, cumming from knowing how inferior you were. As you left the room, tiny cumstain on your pathetic balls, you felt better about how your sister would stop loving you, and only have eyes for black men and their glorious cocks. It was the way things were meant to be. Peepee sore from cumming without being touched, you went out of Lily’s room and went to Katie’s on the right.

Chapter 8 - And lastly, Good Morning to Katie

Right down the short walkway on the landing from Lily’s room is your other young sister, Katie’s room. Unlike Lily, who’s room only had one small window to the left of her bed, Katie is lucky enough to get a big window that totally took up the left side of her room. You’re still distracted from the high of your beta orgasm that you totally forget to knock, and barge right into Katie’s room. “Hey hottie,” she said as she heard the door open. Then she turned around. “Ew- what the fuck- it’s you?” She looks disgusted, which, to be fair, is expected. You are, after all, walking into her room totally naked with that tiny white clitdick exposed, a few messy drops of cum on your underdeveloped balls, and during a time you shouldn’t have been in her room at all, it seemed. It looks like Katie’s putting on a little show for people outside. Her blinds were all the way up and her curtains to the side. There was a perfect line of sight from her room to the street below, and vice versa. It looked like some of the neighbor boys, both white and black, were looking up at her voyeuristically. Katie had put a chair by the window and spread her legs. Her pale, pretty feet were on the window. In her hand was a white wand vibrator, which she was pleasing herself with for who knows how long before you came in. “Hello? What the fuck are you doing here, you fucking loser?” she demands as she turns off her toy. She’s not happy, But then again, she never is with you. She’s just one of those girls who loves torturing white boys. There’s no real explanation, your younger sister is just a little sadist. “You gonna answer, loser? Sheesh, I can’t believe I’m related to you. I’m so fucking tired and your dumbass has to barge into my room too? Mom just fucking cage you.” “N-no,” you said, the threat of your poor little clit-dick locked in a cold, cruel chastity cage made you remember, “I- wait, you’re tired too Why are you up doing… this?” She rolls her eyes, standing up and bending over to spread her asscheeks to the cheering group below. Your pervy little mind wished you were down there, able to see even the tiniest glimpse of your little sister's asshole. “I couldn’t sleep,” she presses her butt right against the glass, “Not with Lily being so fucking loud.” “Loud?” You ask. “Yeah. I told her how to masturbate and shit, and she went crazy these past few nights. She’s always screaming about how good it feels. She sounds worse than Abby,” she rolls her eyes, “I guess you’re not the only fuck up in this house, huh? I made a pretty big mistake. When Coral moves back out I think I’m gonna take her room, I can’t stand that loud bitch.” You feel very hurt by that. After all, Lily might be your favorite sister. “H-hey,” you defended, “L-lily’s just exploring herself. She’s allowed to cum as much as she wants. It’s healthy for her to be sexually satisfied, right? Just like you are.” Just as you said that, with one hand on her chair and the other between her legs holding that vibrator, her whole back starts shaking. Her legs against the window quake, and her anus must be puckering so tight against the glass. Finally, she gets release, and squirts everywhere. “Ahhh!” she moans as squirts of sweet clear pussy water shoot out onto her window and drip down onto the cushioned bench right below it. It already looked stained from a few squirts earlier, but this time, it’s a total mess. “Mmmm,” she sounds so satisfied, “Show’s over until that gets cleaned up,” she smiles, standing up and dropping her vibe. “See that? That’s fucking satisfaction. I didn’t know how to really make myself squirt for years. Lily should stop trying to rush shit, and actually let me fucking sleep.” “M-maybe you’re just different,” you say, “some girls only need to cum- well, how many times have you?’ “This morning? 3 or 4. I bet it’s less than you have when going into everyone’s room to wake them up.” Instead of finishing your point, you just look down and blush. How does she know? “I’m right, right? I’m guessing- you stroke for a good 30 seconds when you get up, right? Then you probably cum when eating mommy’s creampie out, no? You might even cum twice then, she always gets bulls with a lot of cum… and then you probably get to cum with Max when you wake Abby up, then you don’t even have to touch yourself to cum looking at Coral’s dried pussy juice all over her toy collection. Ellie and Mary won’t let you cum, but you’ll probably cum at least once just by trying to hard not too, because you’re a fucking loser. Jenny’s way too nice to you, she’ll probably let you jerk off while she’s on the toilet or something. I fucking hope you didn’t cum when you woke up Lily, because you should literally get your balls chopped off if you did that. So you probably did. That’s what… 7 or 8 orgasms for you?” “S-something like that,” was all you could manage to say. “Fuck, you’re fucked up. I don’t even wanna know,” she hopped off her chair and went to her dresser, where she put on some pink panties. “Don’t fucking look at me when I’m changing, perv. Mom should fucking castrate you.” You gulp. “Y-yes, I know. S-sorry.” She laughs, “yeah, that’s all whiteboys know how to say. I can’t wait to see how many of the boys watching busted in their pants while staring at my booty. I’m shocked you didn’t,” she says, but then looks down at your tiny balls. “Oh- did you?” she starts cracking up, “Is that fucking cum? Holy shit, you fucking did! Did you even touch yourself?” “N-no!” you jump back. Your tiny package bounces just a little bit. “I-it was from earlier!” She walks forward to you, bending over and pinching your tiny clitdick with her two little fingers. She lifts it up to look at your balls. “It’s still wet- how long ago did you cum?” “Um, 3 or 4 minutes ago…” you tell the truth. “So right before you came here- you fucking came to Lily, didn’t you?” she shouted, angrily slapping your little nuts. “Owwwww,” you weakly whine in pain. “You’re so fucking sick! What would mom think? She’d probably just laugh at you, but still. You’re the worst fucking white beta I know, and that’s saying a lot! I’d fucking kick you in the nuts, but you’re probably too impotent to even feel it. Ugh!” You can’t help but blush and get hard. Though Katie was only a year younger than you, she was superior to you in every way. “Stop fucking blushing!” She growls as she turns around to keep getting dressed, “And make that nub you call a dick get less hard! I can’t fucking stand whiteboi stiffies near me,” she said, slipping on some black leggings, “When I have kids, if any of them are fucking boys- well, white “boys’” she makes air quotes, “I’m not gonna do any of mom’s ‘let them cum so they don’t try and touch girls’ bullshit. I don’t care what doctors of Church of the BBC magazine writers say, it obviously doesn’t fucking work. I’m putting any fucking white sons I push out in cages 24/7.” “W-why are you telling me this?” you ask, struggling to hide your tiny boner. She shrugs. “You taught me it’s fun torturing whitebois. It’s the one thing you’re good for. Stop staring at my tits,” she said, putting on a tight t-shirt.” “S-sorry.” “Yeah, whatever. You told Lily brunch is ready, right?” she asks. “Yeah, we should go down.” “Yeah, I will. First I wanna go outside and see if any of those cucks stayed by the house hoping to get some,” she laughed, “but before that,” she walked over to the bathroom she and Lily shared, and brought some paper towels, “you’re gonna clean up my squirts. And use your tongue as cleaning spray.” “Y-yes Katie, of course,” you go over and grab the towels, heading over to keel on her bench and start licking at and wiping your window. “Nuh-uh,” she says right as you start, “stand up. Show off your boy pussy. I wanna post this on Snowgram.” W-what? She was gonna post your white boy hole on social media? That really scared you, but it was so humiliating, it turned you on. That made it worse. Would everyone see your tiny clit? They’d laugh at it, wouldn’t they. “Oh come on, hurry up,” she says, taking out her phone. You obey her, spreading your legs wide to show off that smooth, pink bussy. You hear the phone click as she laughs. “Aright, see ya bro. I’m gonna go eat now,” she walks away. You stay, licking up her pussy juice and residues from her nasty window. It must’ve been days since it was cleaned. Thankfully, you’re a good worker. When you finish, you go back to your room. Your phone is out, with its BLACKED porn background. You open it, go to snowgram, and look at the latest posts. Sure enough, there’s Katie, with a picture of your exposed beta boi ass, captioned ‘cleaning- the one thing white brothers are good for!” Before that post was one of her holding her vibrator between her legs as she woke up, announcing her ‘show’ this morning. It had a ton of white boys from her grade commenting about it, but she pinned one from a girl; “All these white boys tryna shoot their shot, boi u can’t even shoot past your balls!” It had the most likes too. As you read that, you shot another drop of cum. It didn’t go past your balls either You added it to the pile of barely wet tissues in your garbage bin. The trash, where whiteboy cum belongs. Then, you go downstairs for breakfast.

Chapter 9 - Brunch

You reach down between your legs and feel your balls. Rather, your ballsack. The tiny little testicles in that flimsy little bag of skin are totally shriveled up thanks to you cumming 8 times already today. Those poor little glands are already exhausted by producing so much worthless little sperm… and it wasn’t even 2pm yet! You’d probably cum plenty more times today. It would surely end up being just impotent, clear prostate fluid. Well… more impotent than usual. You sniffle at your inferiority. You’re at the top of the stairs, and look down at the clatter below. You walk over to your room and get your clothes on, a simple pair of black shorts and white t-shirt over your unimpressive little body. Then you go downstairs to finally eat brunch. The kitchen is visible right at the bottom of the stairs, which are right in front of the hallway where you and all your siblings' bedrooms are. At the bottom of those stairs was a glossy marble floor, just like the rest of the house. There was also a lower, carpeted living room area with fluffy floors and white and red couches, and even a TV from a tall divider between the living room and the marble. Your mom’s a good decorator, with pretty white and red flowers all on top. To the right of that was the entryway, and to the left was the kitchen. The kitchen is a large space with white tile floors, lined with kitchen appliances that had an island in the middle. In the far corner, next to the back door, was a small table. In the front, close to the living room, was a bigger glass table. Your whole family is already eating. Your mom was at the head of the table, with Damarcus next to her. He was shirtless, but even though he wore gym shorts, the massive, fat snake in them peaked out. He selfishly grabbed at her thick thigh. On the opposite side of the table was Coral, with Mary slouched between her and Ellie. Andre had his arm around Ellie. He was so fucking cocky. On the other side of the table were Jenny, Jayvon, Lily, and Katie. Meanwhile, at the small table, Abby and her man, Julius, and her cuck boi, Max. You gulp as you go to take your seat right next to Katie. She still looks disgusted by you. “H-hey, thanks for getting my food today,” you said. Sometimes, if Abby was making breakfast, she wouldn’t give you any food, and you’d just have to get something yourself. “Oh, sweetie, thank Max. You white boys sure do know how to stick together,” your Mom smiled at you. Max, over with his wife and her bull, was getting his little dick teased from under his shorts by Abby. Though the three were off on their own, with Julius eating his fill of breakfast. Max was struggling to not acknowledge his arousal. Instead, he just kept thanking Julius over and over for enjoying his cooking. After all, if he so much as moaned from having his little dick touched by his wife’s feet, he’d be punished. It wasn’t a whitebois role to be turned on, especially not in public. Cruel girls like Abby didn’t give a shit though. It turns you on a little, as shameful as it feels. Max must’ve been ashamed too, after all, the massive bulge in Julius’ shorts was obvious. It wasn’t like he could ever measure up to what his wife really enjoyed, and he had to thank Julius for everything he did. Being a cuckboi was harder than it looked. “Son,” scolded your mom. You look back at her. You know that you aren’t supposed to start drooling at your sister’s feet. But you definitely weren’t supposed to drool at your mommy’s tits either. “Sorry, mom,” you whisper. You just look down at your food and start eating. This was a snowbunny’s household, and you were ignored. To stay out of trouble, you should ignore them too. But still, you didn’t wanna make the silence awkward. Or make silence in the first place. These people were your family, after all. Now that your mom was calmed down compared to how she was after those hours of being plowed by Damarcus, she could be an attentive mother. Even Ellie or Katie weren’t gonna attack you over breakfast. You look over at Jenny and Jaylon. While Damarcus dwarfed your mom, Andre made Ellie look just as small as Mary, and Julius was the king of the table where ‘Max’s’ family sat, Jaylon was the only small black boy there. Not that he was any smaller down there. Still… you had to ask. “So, um, Jaylon,” you say respectfully. You know you should be submissive to your black masters, even the younger ones, “you met my mom now?” “Howdya know my name, whiteboi?” he asked, looking over. He even spoke with a high pitched voice. But he degraded you like any other superior. It really was humiliating. First, your twin sister was stolen by this black kid, then your dignity in the family. As if you had much. “Because I told him, baby,” sighed Jenny, patting Jaylon’s hand, “Anyway bro, yeah, I told mom about us. She was really approving! I was kinda surprised… but I’m glad we all respect who we love, right?” she asked. She glared distinctly at Coral. “That’s not exactly how I remember it, Jenny,” smiled your mom. “I remember you freaking out when you tried to get him out the door this morning! You should know better that your momma’s got a soft spot for cute things like Jaylon. I told everyone here…. Who wasn’t late… to congratulate Jenny on her new boyfriend.” Jenny leaned back to talk to you, “Don’t sweat it bro, you already congratulated me enough,” she smiled. “Ayo, what’s that mean?” Jaylon asked. “Nothing baby,” she said as she checked her phone, “He just does all my chores and shit. He’s my brother.” she shrugged. At least someone appreciates the only whiteboy in the family. “Still, I think it’s funny that Jenny’s first boyfriend is some lightskin little kid. If she said she wanted to date whitebois, I’m sure mom would be okay with that too,” laughed Coral. Of course she had to be the one bringing up sex with whitebois. The subject actually made you uncomfortable. After all, it just felt like more pressure to perform. It was easier having a tiny dick and being a quickshot when that was all that was expected from you. It was harder when deviant girls like Coral actually wanted to have normal sex! “Damn, why’s this bitch gotta compare me to a whiteboi?” complained Jaylon. “It’s okay baby,” calmed Jenny, “My big sister is just a fucking weirdo.” She stuck her tongue out. “Oh, boo hoo. I’m in college, I’m supposed to experiment and have fun. Is anyone really gonna complain about having sex whenever I want with whoever I want? It’s not like I’m treating whitebois as equals,” she snorted. She then pulled out a vape pen after putting her drink down and took a long drag. Your mom looks mortified. “Coral! I told you not to do that inside!” she insists. Coral sighs and puts away her vape. Mom calms down. “I better not see you do that again, young lady,” she glares, “and you also shouldn’t talk about those kinda things in the house either, especially not in front of your little sisters,” she looks over the table, “or your little brother!” Coral chuckles, “Why not? Lil bro’s already a total pervert, might as well let him accept it.” Mom gets flustered again, “Uh, I do? Of course I do, but that’s not the point, Coral honey. The point is,” she growls a little and grabs Corals arm with her sharp long nails, “We do not talk about them in this household. Right girls?” Everyone nods along with mom. You do too. She probably counted you along with the ‘girls’. “Ow,” says Coral, pulling her arm away. “You don’t hear me mouthing off about your father’s abysmal attempts at sex over breakfast, do you?” “Ugh. No mom, I don’t.” “So apologize!” “Sorry.” “To your siblings. And for what?” Coral looks over at all of you. “I’m sorry for talking about such perverted things at the breakfast table. Can I go now?” Your mom sighs. As scary and mean as she could be, you felt bad for her. Even though Coral was the only white girl to ever really look your way, even if it was a really pervy thing, you wished she was a better daughter. Just to make your mom happy. “Anyways,” she says, looking at you as Coral gets up, puts her plate in the sink, and leaves. “Son, you know what’s coming up for us?” she asks. “Um….” you think carefully, trying to remember. Dammit, you knew this day was special, right? So what was it? Damn your stupid, cum-addled whiteboi brain! Um…. “The party….” your mom hinted. “Right, right!” you say as you remember, “We’re hosting the Neighborhood Blacked Moms Association End-of-Summer party again this year, right?” “Exactly sweetie. Now, I already sent invites out, but, well, I’m a little good at my job,” she turns to Damarcus and smiles, “so not everyone can RSVP by mail. Do you remember your job?” You nod, finally happy to be pleasing mommy, “I have to go around the neighborhood to see who can go or not, right?” “Exactly!” She says, “Good boi. Now come clean my plate up, and you can go.” You nod and stand up. Who cares if your plate is unfinished. You have a job to do, and whitebois are made to serve. A/N, if you wanna create a family that you can meet in the next part of this story, just say so in the comments! Names, dynamics, ideas, anything's accepted! Thank you all!

Chapter 10 - Heading out for the Day

After you wash the dishes for mommy (with a few nice spanks on your bare white boi ass from both your sisters and their bulls) you thank her and get ready to go. In the office, which was next to the kitchen and right under your room, you finally got the stupid printer to work. Out came 2 sheets of paper with over a dozen names on them. All the white girls and women in the neighborhood were written on that sheet. There were 9 houses you had to visit in the next few hours. A busy day today, for sure. You put on your shoes and get the papers in your backpack, and some shorts, just to keep your tiny dickletted self modest. Even though, of course, anyone who saw you could understand that you had a micropenis just by glancing at your skin color. You walked out the hall into the living room. Behind the TV stand, there was a lot of noise. Your weak knees shook as you walked forward in your kid-like clothes to see what was going on. What you see is exactly what you expected. In the few minutes you’d been gone, all the girls and bulls had gotten naked and were having their first orgy of the day right in the middle of the house. Anyone who opened the front door, or even just looked through the windows on either side of it, could see what was happening. Nobody would judge though. Multiple orgies a day was commonplace in the BNWO, especially for suburban white women. And it made your depleted balls tremble and tiny peepee grow. The coffee table was pushed over to the side. In its place was the center four-way of it all. Damarcus lying on his back with his huge arms around your mom’s neck and head, which was itself pushed between his huge pecs. His belly made her back arch as she lied on top of him. Damarcus’ 18 inch, 55 year old cock was absolutely destroying your mom’s anus. Both her butthole and her beloved bull’s cock were shining with what must’ve been lube, but it didn’t look like enough. When you weren’t feeling amazed about how black bulls could fuck for hours, you were amazed with how much a white girl could stretch just to take a BBC. While Mom was being assfucked by Damarcus below her, Julius was fucking her pussy and playing with her tits. Julius had a good 16 inches, not as lengthy or girthy as Damarcus, but he was fucking your mom but good. He made up for that too in youthful strength, because the fourth part of the 4-way was Abby, whose thick thighs and plump rump were held out by Julius’ massive arms. He was eating out his girlfriend, and in turn she had a steady flow of orgasmic juices pour onto mom’s belly from between her legs. Mom moaned loudly and squirted all over Julius’ thick black pubes. Her first orgasm of many for this orgy. Your worm was at maximum hardness. All of two inches. Behind them on the couch, there was another 3 of them sitting down, which it took a while to notice, since your transfixtion was totally on the center. On the far left is Max, who it seemed had permission from his wife to jerk off while she got eaten out in a foursome with you two’s mom and their bulls. Max’s little less than two inches (you’re very proud you’re bigger than your sister’s husband!) was jerked so hard it looked like his balls would slap against it. But of course, his scrotum was too tight and tiny for that. “Fuck ahhhhh,” moaned Abby. Her muscular ass quaked in Julius’ massive hands. They both looked like they were in total bliss. “I’m gonna fucking cum I’m gonnnnnnna nnnnnnnnng!” She yelled. Her legs stuck out totally straight, almost kicking you in the face, and, with her bull’s head still between her thighs, she came. Julius didn’t let her down after though. Her eyelids fluttered and lips shook. He just kept eating her out, without giving her a second to recover. And you knew your sister. She loved it. “H-hey, babe,” she rolled her head towards the couch to look at her hubby, who was still jerking his little dick on the couch, “Y-you don’t have you be a-ashamed. My family isn’t gonna mind if you touch yourself the way you love, cuckie d-darling.” Max whimpered. How pathetic, but you weren’t one to talk. “T-thank you babe,” he said. He scooted down in the chair. “J-julius b-babe, can you please tell m-my fucking loser brother to stop staring t-too?” she moaned as she drooled. Julius shot you a death glare. “S-sorry!” You insisted, jumping back. Plenty of bulls of your mom’s or big sisters’ have disciplined you in the past. It almost always involved a painful slap, or worse, punching your poor little balls, as if they weren’t already impotent enough. You look back over to the couch. There, Max had spread his legs and began to not only tug his tiny dick with two fingers, but also to rub his pink, smooth butthole with one finger. Abby giggled at that. Is that what her husband like? Playing with his whiteboi ass while his wife fucked bulls? T-that seemed so…. Gay! And you kinda wanted to do it too. Max closed his eyes and moaned as he fingered his butt and played with his clit. He was in his own fantasy world. As you stepped out of Mom’s, Damarcus’, Julius’, and Abby’s ways, you got to see who was on the couch besides Max. Right next to him was Jenny, who looked exhausted. Her smooth pussy was creampied again, and she was breathing heavily. Next to her was Jaylon, who looked tired and sweaty, but still pretty happy. That was probably because, between his spread, medium-brown legs, with their mouths on his big, smooth, uncut cock, were Katie and Lily, your two little sisters. His dick was wet and sticky, with a bit of cum still at the tip. Katie licked that up to show Lily how it was done. Lily smiled with wide, eager eyes. Then Katie spat it out onto your youngest sister’s mouth and they snowballed it. “Get fucked good?” you asked your twin, who was obviously uncomfortable with Max masturbating away next to her. “Yeah,” she said, “Right after breakfast. Mom was teasing us so he was all like ‘fuck it, I’ll show you,” she looked over at her boyfriend and held his hand. She looked at him, but he didn’t look back. She took her hand away. “Anyway.... Best fucking I’ve ever had. Made me cum 3 times in about 5 minutes.” “Wow,” you said. It felt good just to have a normal conversation with her. Even if it was about how she got fucked by that black dick, and it made you think of how you’ll never satisfy a girl with that tiny shrimp dick, or even fill her up with your few watery drops of cum. At least she wasn’t explicitly humiliating you. “C’mon, sit down.” she said. You stepped over her legs to sit inbetween her and Jaylon, but then she grabbed your wrist. “Nuh-uh, you’re sitting between me and him.” she said assertively. You sighed. You were really hoping not to have to sit next to Max rubbing his little whiteboi butthole, but no such luck. You just hoped nobody would ask about it. You sat down next to Jenny. In the corner, by the chairs by the TV stand closest to the stairs, Ellie was on her back getting fucked by Andre. Coral, ever the perverted one, was sitting on Ellie’s face, getting her pussy licked. You wondered how much Ellie resisted to that before she finally accepted a faceful of her big sister’s cunt. Meanwhile, Mary was eating Andre’s ass, and shyly fingered her pussy with two fingers. “Wow,” you breathed, “Can’t believe I missed this.” “Ah please bro,” she said to you with a cocksure smile, “Nothing you haven’t seen before, right?” You shrug. It isn’t took common to see Mary out. Especially rimming a guy. “Hey,” Jenny asked, “Why aren’t you jerking off?” You shrug again. “Tired I guess. My balls are kinda sore… I’ve already nutted eight times today.” Jenny’s eyes moved over to Jaylon, who blasted a fat, potent rope right on top of Katie’s silky-haired head. She looked a little sad, but then turned back to you. “Heh, little whiteboy can’t get it up huh?” She ruffled your hair. It pushed your head down. You felt so weak. “H-hey,” you protest. “Aww, you’re so damn cute!” “Hey baby,” asked Andre, “Want some of this?” You looked up and saw Andre turn around and get his massive black cock in Mary’s face, obviously offering it to her. Mary’s eyes were insanely wide. “N-no…” she whispered. “NO! I-it’s fine t-thanks. B-besides, I was just eating your ass..” At that pathetic passing up of some easy black dick, both Andre and Ellie laughed at the later’s poor twin sister. “W-whatever guys,” sniffled Mary. She got up and ran up to her room, still naked with her small tits bouncing. You felt bad, but knew if you tried to comfort her she would take it out on you crueler than even Ellie. “Anyways,” you said, breaking the tension. “I- uh- have some RSVPs to get.” You pulled out the paper and waved it around as you stood up and stepped over Mom and Damarcus’ legs. You left your twin sister in the dust too. But you were a weak whiteboy who couldn’t even stand up for himself after all. How could you get her to stand up for herself? Nobody looked any different as you made your departure known. You walked out to the door, got your shoes on your tiny little feet, and walked out.

#bbc #story #interracial

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