#good morning it is two am. have Fox

[catboydogma]

FIRST NAME COMMANDER LAST NAME FOX

[ ID: a digital drawing of commander fox from the clone wars tv show, depicting fox as a clone trooper with graying short curly hair and several facial scars (one on the right side of his mouth, two by each corner of his left eye) and holding a gun up by his shoulder. a stylized set of red (fox) teeth in an open jaw frame his face.

a square of small handwritten text in the backdrop has a jumbled and repeating set of lyrics from the song "pale horses" by moby: put me on the train, send me back to my home / put me by the window, let me see outside / looking at all the places where my family died / leave me by the churchyard, leave me on my own / the storm will come and take me back to my old home. / end ID ]

[serpentandlily]

Sly Fox, Dumb Bunny VI - Eris x Archeron!Reader

Sly Fox, Dumb Bunny VI - Eris x Archeron!Reader

Summary: You find yourself ensnared by a sly, cunning fox. A very handsome, irritating one.

Warnings: smut (minors dni), fluff, angst, misogynistic language/beliefs, violence

A/n: I hope this part is good enough for you guys to forgive me for being a week late!

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Part VI

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To your disappointment, when you woke up the next morning, Eris was already gone—the sheets cold on his side. You let out a sigh and got up, blinking the sleep from your eyes. It was only then you realized Willow and Ivy were fretting around the bedroom, the wardrobe doors thrown open and piles of dresses on the floor.

“What on earth are you two doing?”

Your handmaidens jumped in shock at the sound of your voice before Ivy turned to face you. “Oh, Lady, you are awake! Lord Eris requested we pack an overnight bag for you.” 

Your brows furrowed in confusion. “For what?” 

They both shared a glance before shrugging but they couldn’t hide the smiles on their faces. “We can only guess, my Lady, but he did not tell us anything.” 

“Did he at least tell you where he’s taking me?” You sighed but they both shook their heads.

“No,” Willow grumbled, “Which is why we’re struggling to pack. We have no idea what you’ll need.”

But Ivy just smiled brightly. “We’ll just pack a bit of everything. That way you’ll be ready for whatever it is he wants.” 

The look in her eyes told you she knew exactly what Eris wanted and your cheeks turned red. You let out a huff of air before falling back down on your pillows. 

“Oh no, Lady, you mustn’t fall asleep again. We are to escort you to the stables in an hour's time. Willow will run you a bath.” 

You let Willow help you get ready, your mind on Eris and what he had in store for you. Willow dressed you in a long burgundy gown that had a corset styled bodice that clung to your frame and a flowy chiffon skirt. Tiny roses were embroidered along the lighter side panels of the skirt. 

Luckily, it wasn’t long before your handmaidens were presenting you to your mate who was waiting for you at the stables. 

Eris was staring at you with an intensity that had your face full of color. It wasn’t until the two of you were left alone that his infamous fox-like grin spread on his face. He was dressed finely in dark brown breeches with riding boots and a tunic embroidered with small leaves along the seams. 

“Would you like your own horse this time, bunny?”

Right, you did technically know how to ride a horse now. But you shook your head. “May I ride with you?”

“Who am I to deny a lady her request?” Eris purred, extending a hand out to you. Butterflies danced in your stomach as you took it, letting him pull you close so he could lift you onto Marigold, the horse. 

He strapped the overnight bag to the horse before he lifted himself up behind you, wrapping his arms around your body to take the reins in one hand and pulling you back against his chest with his other. Your cheeks turned pink and you let out a content sigh as the warmth from his body combatted the crisp morning air. 

Marigold started her trot into the woods and it was silent for a moment before you spoke. 

"Where are you taking me?"

"It's a surprise," Eris teased.

"I don't like surprises," you pouted.

"No?" Eris's breath tickled the tip of your ear. He moved your hair to one shoulder, granting him access to your throat. He pressed a kiss against the sensitive skin there causing a shiver to run down your spine. "Well, that's too bad, bunny. You're getting one." 

You were smiling without realizing it, so honed into the places Eris's body met yours. The morning birds were chirping, the leaves rustling in the chill autumn wind. It was enchanting. The Autumn woods were quickly becoming a sanctuary for you and your mate. You hadn't felt this happy in a long time. 

You asked Eris an endless amount of questions about the Autumn Court, his brothers and family, and his life during the horse ride to wherever he was taking you. The sun began to set, sending streaks of golden light through the openings in the leaves. It wasn’t until you saw smoke curling around the tops of the tree, that you realized you were nearing your destination. 

Soon, a small cottage nestled between the tall trees appeared. Moss and ivy clung to the outer walls, blending it into the earthy flora surrounding it. A path made of fallen leaves led towards the front door, flanked by wildflowers in various colors. The babbling of a creek met your ears as you squinting to see through the sunlight filtering in through the canopy of trees above. 

“What is this place?” You twisted your head to look up at Eris. 

“One of my personal residences,” Eris answered, staring wistfully ahead. “One few know about.” 

As you drew closer to the cottage, Eris guided Marigold to a stop. He slid off the back, keeping one hand lingering on your waist.

“And you're sharing it with me?” Another secret Eris was willingly divulging to you. He had no idea how much it meant to you. He gave you a charming grin as he helped you down. 

“There is nothing I wouldn’t share with you, bunny. What is mine is yours,” he said. He kissed the top of your head before guiding you into the cottage with a hand on your back. 

As you stepped over the threshold of the hidden cottage, the scent of aged timber and a faint hint of herbs and spices greeted you. A snap of Eris’s fingers had the wood in the fireplace coming to life. Furniture made from weathered oak and mahogany filled the room, now illuminated by the warm glow of a crackling fire in the stone hearth. A plush armchair was nestled beside the hearth, a stack of books on top of it.

In a corner of the room, a spiral staircase wound its way upwards, disappearing into the shadows above. An opening straight ahead showed a peek of a kitchen. You spun as you walked forward, taking it all in before turning back to find Eris staring at you with a small smile. 

“I come here when I need a break from my father and duties,” Eris said, surprising you once again with his candidness. “And I needed to come here today so I didn’t murder my brother for slipping that breeding tonic into your drink last night.” 

Your eyes widened. “Reid?” 

Eris nodded, his jaw clenching. “He claims he did it only to embarrass you a bit at dinner but then my mother sent you away. He says he had no idea that you’d run into those guards.” 

You rubbed your arm, looking down at the floor as the memories of last night flooded your mind. “And you believe him?” 

“I unfortunately do. That doesn’t mean he didn’t face any…consequences for his little prank,” Eris said as he walked towards you. He slipped two fingers under your chin and made you look at him. “But I want you to know, bunny, that nothing like that will ever happen to you again. Do you hear me? I will not let anything happen to you. I don’t care who I have to kill to ensure that.”

“But Eris—”

He placed a finger against your lips, silencing you. “No. No buts. I was blessed with the gift of fire and I will burn down this whole world with no remorse if that's what it takes to keep you safe. Do you understand?” You opened your mouth to rebuke his words but Eris shook his head. “I don’t want to hear any objections. They will change nothing. Just a simple yes or no, bunny. Do you understand?” 

You searched his amber eyes for something, not even knowing what you were looking for. But you knew what you found. A heavy resolve, a promise, a need to protect. And you realized in that moment that you felt all those things as well. You swallowed, audibly. 

“Yes,” you whispered. “I understand.” 

Eris grinned. “Good.”

“So, why have you brought me here, my Lord?” You asked in a teasing tone, lightening the mood. 

“I brought you here to have a break from the suffocating nature of my court,” Eris answered, guiding you further into the charming cottage. 

“Well, I appreciate your consideration, my Lord.”

“Oh, back to formalities, little bunny?” That fox-line grin bloomed on Eris’s face. “I thought we moved past that last night.” He stepped closer to you, brushing some of the hair away from your face. Your cheeks turned red again causing Eris to chuckle, “Oh don't look so embarrassed, bunny. You seemed to quite enjoy having my affections.” 

Butterflies danced in your stomach. His scent was too enticing, the power that seemed to burn all around him all encompassing. Your face was on fire, your heart too. But he was right. You had enjoyed last night. You had wanted his lips on you, his hands on your skin. That hadn't changed. Even now that the breeding tonic had worn off. That craving for his touch was still there. 

"I believe you made me a promise last night, my Lord," you replied with a slight smile, toying with the laces of his tunic. 

“I did,” Eris growled and took your hands in his. “I intend to keep it.”

Your heart was pounding in your chest. The look in his eyes caused another wave of desire to crash into you. Unfortunately, your stomach decided that was the time to make itself known. A small rumble sounded and you nearly cursed at it. But Eris chuckled and stepped away, to your disappointment. 

“Come, bunny, I had the cook prepare us a light dinner,” he said, leading you to the kitchen.

Dinner consisted of an array of cheeses and breads, along with dried fruits and nuts. You were glad it was so light because you had more of an appetite for the male sitting in front of you than the food on the table. The sentiment seemed shared considering the lingering touches and heated looks Eris had been sending you. By the end of dinner, he looked quite pleased with himself for riling you up, sitting in his chair like it was his personal throne. Eris waved a hand and the dishes and plates disappeared in a blink of an eye. 

You sat frozen in your chair as he eyed you, drinking the last of his wine from his goblet. His gaze was enough to set you on edge, predatory but it didn't frighten you in the slightest. In fact, it made you come alive. He set his glass down before standing, making you hop out of your chair. If you had it your way, he'd toss you over his shoulder again like he did the first time you'd met and carry you straight to the bedroom. But instead, he leaned against the kitchen cabinets and beckoned you to him.

You'd never felt more like a bunny than in this moment. Like a hare about to be caught in a trap. 

As you stepped close to him, he brushed the hair out of your face, hooking it behind your ears before taking your cheeks in his hands. His touch was so warm, so comforting. Who cares if this was a trap? If this was the fox you were to be ensnared by, then so be it. 

“I need you to understand something before we continue down a path I know I will never be able to return from, bunny,” Eris began, his amber eyes glowing in the candlelight. “Whatever happens tonight is your choice. If you want to go back to the manor, I will take you. If you just wish to sleep, that is what we will do. Anything you don't like, just say the word and I will stop without question. Do you understand?”

A moment of silence passed as you processed his words, the care he was spelling out for you. Your hand fell on his chest, lingering over his beating heart. One you now knew was good—at least for you. And you realized it was never the fox that had ensnared the bunny but rather, the other way around. 

Because this Eris, the one standing before you now, was entirely reserved for you and you only. 

“Eris,” you whispered.

“Yes.”

“Kiss me,” you breathed out. “Please.”

“You'll never have to beg me, bunny,” Eris purred before finally pressing his lips against yours. 

The kiss became heated fast, leading the two of you to stumble around the cottage until he was pushing you up the stairs. You giggled, taking your skirt in your hands to rush up the steps. You barely made it through the threshold of the bedroom door before you were grabbing Eris by the lapels of his shirt and pulling him into a frenzied kiss. He groaned, eagerly kissing you back as he kicked the door shut behind him. 

Your hands slid down to the buttons of his shirt, feeling his muscles tensing under your touch. But Eris pulled your hands away from him before breaking the kiss. You whined at the loss of contact, lips swollen and breasts heaving with pants. 

“Not so fast, bunny,” Eris said with a wave of his hand that had every single candle lighting in the room. 

You gasped as the room came to life, as the light illuminated the large four-poster bed covered in dark red, velvet sheets and fluffy pillows in all shades of Autumn. A small hearth warmed the room and textured fabrics hung from the ceiling embedded with faelights that gave the room a hazy and comforting atmosphere. 

“Come here,” Eris rasped, holding out his arm. 

Your heart fluttered as you took it, letting him draw you close. He spun you around and moved your hair to one shoulder before his hands drifted down to the laces on the back of your corset. His nimble fingers began to expertly unlace your corset while he pressed a kiss to your exposed shoulder. You let out a breath at the feeling of his warm, soft lips against your skin. 

You reached back to help him with the ties, too eager to wait, but he ripped your hands away. “Relax, little bunny,” Eris purred. “Let me do all the work.” 

Your heart started beating faster.

“Okay,” you whispered. 

Eris smirked against your skin, satisfied with the response.

He finished unlacing the corset and your dress dropped to the floor, pooling around your feet and leaving you in just your underthings. You were nearly shaking with anticipation, your breathing heavy as he lightly brushed his knuckles down your spine, causing you to shiver. 

Eris leaned down to whisper in your ear, “Get on the bed.” 

“I thought you were doing all the work,” you teased.

“You’re right,” Eris smiled before he picked you up by the hips and tossed you onto the bed as you squealed, letting you fall on the soft cushions. 

He prowled towards you with a grin, unlacing his own tunic and tugging it off. Your gaze fell to his chest, his muscled abs. Your breath caught in your throat. Eris already looked like a God but he was built like one too. 

Eris’s eyes roamed your body, his hands fisting like he was restraining himself.

You held your breath as he slowly hovered over you, his eyes searching yours for a moment until he found the certainty he was looking for. And then he kissed you again and your body came to life once more. Sparks skittered down your skin, crackling with energy.

He kissed his way down your jaw, your throat, all the way down until he was scraping his teeth against your pebbled nipple still hidden under your bra. You gasped before slapping a hand over your mouth. 

Eris’s eyes shot to yours and he growled, “My one and only rule tonight is that you let me hear those noises, bunny. Do you understand?”

You gulped and pulled your hand away from your mouth, nodding your head though your cheeks turned pink. 

“Good girl,” he purred before continuing on, leaving a trail of kisses down your exposed stomach until he pressed a kiss to the dampened spot on your panties, right between your legs. You breathed out his name, so on edge. 

“Gods,” Eris groaned. “You smell absolutely divine.” 

You might be a virgin but you weren’t completely naive when it came to sex. You had certainly read enough romance novels to prepare you for this moment. But you hadn’t expected to feel like this—to feel so utterly captivated by Eris, aching for his touch. 

“I want to see all of you, bunny,” Eris murmured, his amber eyes drinking you in. He toyed with the straps of your bra as he gave you his famous grin that made him look all the more fox-like considering the absolute hunger in his gaze. “May I?” 

“Yes,” you said, breathless with butterflies ravaging your stomach. The desire for your mate ate away any embarrassment you might’ve felt otherwise. 

His grin grew, his elongated canines exposed. Eris slowly pulled the straps of your bra down your arm, the silky fabric moving softly against your tingling skin. And then his hands were beneath you, arching you up slightly so he could unhook your bra. 

He gently pulled the garment off of you, tossing it to the floor. 

“Beautiful,” Eris groaned, his hard cock pressing against your thigh told you just how true that statement was to him. 

Shyness started to creep in and you quickly covered yourself with your arms, blushing bright red. Eris tsked and moved your arms away. “Don’t be shy, bunny. It’s just me and you here.” 

Just you and Eris. Just you and your mate. His words eased you and you felt your body soften underneath him. His large hands caressed you as he kissed his way down your neck until he finally took one of your breasts in his mouth. 

You hissed, your hands flying to tangle themselves in his hair. He grinned against your skin as he continued his ministrations, making you feel hot with need. You whimpered as his cock rubbed against you.

“Please, Eris,” you begged, not even sure what you wanted or needed. 

Eris sat up, his hands sliding to your waist. “Is my bunny ready for something more?” 

You nodded, eagerly, squirming under him. He hooked his fingers around your underwear. “Lift your hips for me, babygirl.” 

Your heart swooned at the new nickname. 

“Gods,” Eris groaned as he finally peeled off your final piece of clothing, baring you fully. “Gods, you are so beautiful.”

You felt…vulnerable as he drank in the sight of your bare body laid before him. Your toes curled at the predatory look in his eyes. Something about the dominance, the control he held over you in this moment made every rational thought leave your mind—his scent of crackling embers and cinnamon was intoxicating.

Eris leaned over you again to run his hands over every soft curve of your body. His hand drifted back between your legs, gently caressing your throbbing core. You whimpered, bucking up into his touch. 

Eris smirked against your lips. “Is my little bunny ready for me?” 

You swallowed harshly while nodding your head. 

He pressed a kiss to your neck before whispering, “I need your words, bunny.” 

“I’m ready, Eris,” you whimpered. “Please, don’t stop.” 

“I already told you that you’d never have to beg for me,” he murmured. He kissed his way down your neck, his body sliding down yours. Your brows furrowed in confusion. 

“What are you doing?” You didn’t want to wait any longer, already going crazy with want. But he didn’t stop. 

“Relax,” he purred. “Let me take care of you.” 

He pressed a kiss to your stomach. 

“My little bunny,” he murmured against your skin. 

Another kiss to the spot between your hips. “My babygirl.” 

And then he was kneeling on the floor, hooking his arms around your thighs and yanking you to the edge of the bed. You gasped, raising on your elbows to look at him. He kissed the back of your knee, tickling you, before he moved his way up your thigh, leaving love bites along your skin. 

“I need to taste you.” His voice was full of hunger, lust, as he left marks all along your thigh—sucking and biting the soft skin. 

You gasped as he ran his tongue up your slit, grasping the bedsheets in your fists. The books you read always made this act seem hot but feeling it was something else. Desire flooded you, leaving you panting for air. 

And then Eris was devouring you…devouring you like you were the sweetest fruit he’d ever tasted. You tossed your head back against the pillows, crying out his name in pleasure. 

“Eris,” you mewled. “Gods.”

Eris’s own hand slipped down to rub himself through his pants at the sound of your cries. His other hand rose, replacing his mouth to rub circles on your clit.

“I’ve got to get you ready for me, bunny,” he whispered, his finger toying at your entrance making you squirm with need. You weren’t sure what he meant by that until a single finger slowly slipped inside of you. 

You moaned at the feeling, your back bowing off the bed. Eris slowly pulled his finger out before thrusting it back in you. You couldn’t help your hips from grinding down in rhythm with his thrusts. 

“That’s it, babygirl,” he praised. He gave you a few more thrusts before he slowly started to add another finger. You hissed at the feeling of being stretched, sucking your breath in. “Breath, bunny. You’re doing so good.”

Another thrust had you finally relaxing, the slight pressure replaced with hot pleasure. You moaned his name as Eris continued to fuck you with his fingers, his mouth sucking on your clit again. He didn’t stop. Not even as your moans came out as pleas, as his name fell out of your lips over and over again while he pushed you over the edge, your vision going black with all the pleasure as you orgasmed. 

Still, he continued to devour you, causing you to writhe, overstimulated with pleasure. Your fingers tangled themselves in his hair, pulling slightly as you cried but Eris merely growled, “I’m not done yet, bunny.” 

You weren’t sure if that was a blessing or a curse. You ultimately decided it was indeed a blessing as he brought you to your second orgasm with his tongue and fingers far more quickly than your first. You were gasping for air as he made his way back up the length of your body, smiling with satisfaction at how unraveled he had made you. You couldn’t help but grab Eris’s face in your hands, marveling at his striking and cruel beauty. 

“You’re never escaping me now, bunny,” he growled, running his nose up the column of your neck and groaning at your scent. “Now that I’ve got a taste of you, I’m never letting you go.”

“I don’t want you to,” you murmured, your heart beating in your chest. 

“Good,” he answered, kissing you and letting you taste yourself on his lips. His hand was back between your legs, stroking your still sensitive core. You moaned into his kiss, your hips thrusting up against him. 

He grinded his hips down, rubbing his hard cock against you and you gasped, breaking the kiss. The unbridled hunger in his gaze had your heart racing as he stared down at you. “Do you still want this, bunny?”

“Yes,” you whispered, quickly. You were sure you’d go insane if he didn’t fuck you at this point. He sat back on his haunches and began to unlace his pants. His hard cock sprung free from its constraints and your eyes widened as you glanced down at it.

Eris tossed his pants somewhere behind him, chuckling as he noticed you observing him. By feeling alone you’d known his dick was big but seeing it now, you felt slightly intimidated. You sat up a bit and reached a hand out, lightly stroking him with curiosity.

Eris groaned, his hips twitching into your touch. He gently pulled your hand away, resting over you with one arm next to your head. “You can explore later. I need you. I can’t wait any longer.” 

You nodded, swallowing with anticipation. He stared directly into your eyes as he guided himself towards your entrance, pausing one last time to allow you the chance to stop. But you placed a hand on his cheek and pulled him into a kiss instead. Eris kissed you, hungrily. His tongue parted your lips as he devoured you. He lined himself up before slowly starting to push into you. He wasn't even an inch in before he felt the resistance. He kept you locked in a kiss as he pushed farther in, stretching you out to the point of pain. 

You cringed slightly at the feeling, pulling away from his lips with a hiss. But the way Eris stared down at you with so much reverence and care comforted you. Still, you grimaced as the pain increased, as the stretching felt more like he was tearing you in half. 

You hissed again and Eris peppered kisses to your face. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m sorry.” 

You shook your head, unable to tell him to stop apologizing. He grunted as you dug your nails into his biceps while he continued to thrust in slowly. “Fuck, bunny, you’re taking me so well.” 

His praise caused your heart to flutter, making you relax more until he was seated all the way. He groaned, glancing down at where both of your bodies were now connected. Your grip on his biceps were still tight as the pain started to soothe into a warmth that began to spread throughout your body. 

“Breath for me, babygirl,” Eris whispered, kissing your jaw. You nodded, eyes squeezing shut. You hadn’t even realized you’d been holding in your breath. The exhale of air from your lungs made your body soften fully and soon the pain was overwhelmed by the pleasure of having him inside of you. You moaned out his name, trying to let him know you were ready for more. 

“That’s it,” Eris groaned, feeling the tension leave. He slid out only a fraction before pushing back in—just enough to make you whimper. He brushed some of the damp hair from your forehead with a tenderness that had the bond in your chest aching. 

You were desperate for him to start moving and you realized he was waiting on some cue from you—some sign that you were ready for him. But talking felt impossible right now, your brain empty of all thoughts except a need for your mate. You lifted your hips, your breath catching with the movement. Eris grunted at the feeling of you around him. 

You breathed out his name again and that seemed to finally snap his restraint. Yet he was still gentle as he pulled all the way out of you before slowly thrusting back in. Your back arched at the new feeling. You finally released your grip on his biceps, stringing your arms around his neck instead. 

Eris began to move faster, deeper. One of his hands slid down your thigh, guiding you to hook it around his hips. The new angle caused him to hit a spot inside of you that had moans spilling from your lips. Eris kissed any part of you he had access to—your cheeks, your lips, your ears, your neck. His lips were hot, warming your skin as if you were standing next to an open flame. 

“So beautiful,” he whispered. “So beautiful.” 

His thrusts into you had you sliding against the silk sheets, had your breasts bouncing and your core throbbing around him with pleasure.

And he was watching you the whole time with a devotion that had you breathless. His whiskey amber eyes so focused on you and your pleasure, like it was all that mattered to him in this moment. His rhythm quickened, his strokes faster and faster as you spiraled underneath him—coming undone completely. 

It was overwhelming in the best possible way. Your bodies together as one. The feeling of the mating bond singing in your chest. The bliss of finally sharing yourself with someone you were falling in love with. Someone who held you like you were his entire world. Someone who saw all the unseen parts of you—the parts no one else had cared to look at. 

The culmination of everything had fire licking its way down your body, warmth spreading through your veins. Each thrust had a new wave of pleasure crashing into you. Each kiss had your heart beating to the tune of his. You were his in this moment—heart, mind, body and soul. And he was yours. Your fox. Your mate. Your Eris. 

Your vision went white as you toppled over the edge for a third time, screaming his name as you were consumed by his fire. Eris cursed as he rode out your orgasm, his pace growing sloppy as he lost himself in the feeling of you. He pounded into you, over and over again. You were mindless as you lightly grasped his cheeks, staring into his beautiful face—your body still in its state of bliss. 

“Mine,” he grunted. “You are mine.” 

“Yours,” you agreed. “And you belong to me.”

Those words had more of an effect on him than you could ever imagine. He groaned your name, his jaw tensing before he cried out and gave one final thrust inside of you that had the entire bed shaking. His forehead fell against yours as he climaxed, shuddering and panting for air. 

You stayed like that, wrapped up in each other for who knows how long. Just you and him. You and Eris. Nothing else mattered right now. Not his father or his court. Not your sisters or your mysterious powers. No conflict, no war, no pain. Nothing but the two of you and the eternal flame that connected your souls. 

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You should've known that the euphoria wouldn't last for long. The universe always had a way of making sure the highs were met with the lowest of lows. So when you returned to the Forest House with Eris the next day and were summoned immediately upon arrival to the throne room, you were not surprised. Still, a lead weight dropped in your stomach. Eris had staunchly tried to argue that you could remain within his chambers while he dealt with the matter but the guards had been adamant that the High lord had requested both of your presences. 

He held your hand tightly in his as you walked into the throne room together. Beron sat on his throne, Seraphina on her smaller chair to the side of him. Eris’s three brothers stood at the bottom of the dais—each of their faces unreadable. Reid’s face was covered in bruises and you winced, knowing it was your mate that was behind it. Still, you couldn’t find it in you to feel bad. Not after what he had done to you. 

Eris had glamoured your scents, not wanting to give his father any ammunition to use against you. The Gods knew how traditional the Autumn Court was. Beron would be displeased to know you had sex before your mating ceremony. Would likely use that as an excuse to do who knows what.

“Father,” Eris said, dipping his head in a faux show of respect. 

Beron glanced at his son before looking at you, expectantly. You dropped Eris’s hand and curtsied like you’d been taught. “High Lord.” It was enough to have him look away from you and back to his eldest son. 

“In the time you’ve been absent,” Beron started, holding his hands behind his back. “I’ve learned of a few…events that have transpired in this court. Namely the death of three of my best guards and the disfigurement of one of my sons.” 

Eris scoffed, straightening his cuffs. “Reid will heal.” 

You tensed, noting the anger in Beron’s eyes. 

“That may be so,” Beron replied. “But my guards will not.” 

“They deserved death for what they did,” Eris growled. “They attacked my mate.” 

“And by whose word is that?” Beron asked, his tone chilling. “Were there any witnesses of this alleged attack? Or did you simply take the word of a female over three trained, professional guards—guards who have protected you your entire life, son?” 

“I saw it with my own eyes,” Eris snarled, stepping forward. 

Beron merely tilted his head, staring down at his son. “Any other witnesses?”

“You don’t believe your own son?” Eris questioned, causing Beron’s eyes to narrow.

“Not when his actions seem far too…uncharacteristic,” Beron said. “You are not known to attack others, Eris. I expect far more restraint from my Heir. Now, answer my question. Are there any other witnesses?” 

Eris stood up straighter, unwilling to back down. You swallowed harshly, your eyes darting between Beron and your mate. “Her two handmaidens were witness as well.” 

Beron chuckled, mirthlessly. His dead eyes lacked any amusement. “Two lesser fae? As if they are known for speaking any truths. Please son, you humor me greatly.” 

“So you refuse to take me at my word,” Eris scowled. “Yet also refuse to hear from the two witnesses who saw the attack, as well. What is it you want?” 

Flames licked the shoulders of the High Lord, a show of his growing ire. “Watch your tone when talking to me, son. What I want is justice for the guards who have lost their life over something so…trivial.”

“Trivial?” Eris scoffed. “You think it’s trivial that they—”

Beron held up a hand, silencing his son. “I wasn’t finished. Do not interrupt me again or there will be far greater consequences.” 

Eris moved in front of you, blocking his father’s view. You were nearly shaking with dread, nausea swimming in your stomach. Where was Beron going with this?

“As I was saying,” Beron continued. “I seek justice for the guards who are now dead. Punishment for your mate’s lack of decorum that resulted in their actions which led to their deaths. For that, she shall receive ten lashes.” 

The room fell silent except for a small gasp that came from your lips. Ten lashes? Ten lashes all because his guards had attacked you? That was….that was insane! Your lip quivered. Eris glanced back at you for a second, his face pale before his expression hardened into rage. He turned back to his father, glaring.

“I am her mate,” Eris declared. “And according to Autumn law, allowed to take her punishment as mine.”

The fact that he wasn’t trying to argue with his father told you that it would probably be no use.  

“Is that what you want?” Beron looked pleased, as if he knew this would be the outcome to his sentencing. You felt ready to puke. How could a father be so eager to hurt his own son? Just how twisted was this male?

“Yes.” Eris’s voice didn’t waver or soften. 

“Eris,” you whispered in horror, stepping forward. You couldn’t let him do this—couldn’t let him get whipped on your behalf. Neither of you should be facing this punishment. It was both cruel and unjust. But if someone had to take it, it had to be you. 

Eris turned to look at you with a stern expression.

“Don’t speak,” he ordered, his voice so harsh you nearly flinched but you knew his anger was not directed at you. You knew he was just doing what he could to protect you. “Go to my chambers and stay there until either I or your handmaidens come to collect you.” 

“She is not going anywhere,” Beron spoke up. “You are allowed to take her punishment but she is ordered to stay and watch. She must understand what it means to be a part of this court. Must understand what her actions have caused.”

“Father,” Eris’s voice was slightly pleading for once but Beron held up his hand again.

“Another word and it will be fifteen lashes instead.” 

Eris’s shoulder fell and he quickly schooled himself, nodding. You took a sharp breath, your eyes welling with tears. You wanted to reach for him but two guards grabbed you by the upper arms and held you in place. You watched as Eris began to unbutton his shirt, tossing it to the ground before falling to his knees at the bottom of the dais. 

No.

This couldn’t be happening.

You were going to be sick. 

You choked in fear as Beron summoned a whip made of fire in his hands, coming to stand behind his son. You tried to break free from the guards’ hold but it was impossible. Tears slipped down your face.

“Don’t!” you cried out. “Please, don’t hurt him! I’ll take them. I’ll—”

“I said another word and it would be fifteen lashes instead of ten,” Beron growled, his cold eyes darting to you before they looked back down at his son. “Your mate just caused you another five lashes, Eris.” 

No. No. No.

Your eyes darted around the room, looking for someone who might put an end to this. Who might stop this. But it was Finn who caught your eyes and gave you a small shake of the head, his lips pressed in a fine line. You were heaving, horrified. You had made things so much worse already. So much worse. 

No one was coming to stop this. No one was coming to save Eris. No one ever had. 

You stood frozen as the first crack of the whip echoed through the big room, striking Eris’s back and ripping through his flesh. Your heart was pounding in your chest as the whip rose again, the flames dancing in a menacing way. Another strike had more tears blurring your vision. By the third strike, you had fallen to your knees, retching. 

You couldn’t even see Eris’s face, but you knew it was contorted in agony. You tried to send comfort down the mating bond, comfort and love and anything else, but it was met with a wall of flame that blocked you out. That only had more tears falling down your face. Even in his agonizing pain, Eris was still protecting you. 

Memories of last night flooded your mind. The joy, the elation, the love. The time spent together wrapped up in each other like nothing else mattered. The secrets the two of you had shared beneath the covers. How had you gone from that to this? 

Your heart shattered with each strike. Your soul was aching as you sat there, watching in horror as Eris’s blood began to pool on the tiled floor. You had caused this. This was all your fault. All Eris had done since the beginning was try to protect you. And this is how you had returned the favor. The worst part of it all was knowing he wouldn’t even blame you at all for this. Not even for the five extra lashes you had caused. 

By the seventh strike, your own pool of vomit lay around you. 

Eris didn’t even cry, barely moved at all. It was haunting and it made you realize that this was not the first time this had happened to him by a long shot. How many times had his father punished him like this in his lifetime? How many scars lingered underneath his skin—only hidden by the unnatural healing of the fae? By the fifteenth strike, you knew the answer to be far too many. 

The guards finally let you go once Beron had finished and left the throne room, taking his wife with him. You scrambled to your feet, darting towards Eris but Liam caught you by the arm with a grimace. “You won’t be able to carry him. Let us take him to his chambers.” 

You were forced to watch again as both Liam and Finn heaved Eris’s near unconscious form up between the two of them. You trailed behind them, tears soaking the collar of your dress. The walk to his chambers seemed to take an eternity. Eris groaned as they fumbled him through the door. 

“Get him to the bath,” Reid murmured, causing you to jump in shock. You hadn’t realized that even he had followed. 

You darted ahead of them, starting to fill the basin as they dragged your injured mate into the bathing chambers and slid him into the tub. Eris grunted in pain as the water splashed against his wounds, staining it red. You muffled your own cries with a hand. 

“Father won’t allow him to be seen by a healer,” Finn whispered to you. “Can you take care of him from here?” 

You nodded your head, speechless. 

“He has some cooling salve and bandages under the sink,” Finn said, nodding his head towards the sink. “Come find me if you need help.” 

The three brothers took their leave after that, leaving you alone with your mate. You pulled out all the supplies Finn had mentioned, falling to your knees next to the tub where Eris sat, his knees drawn to his chest and his head resting against them. 

“Eris,” you finally whispered, stroking his hair. “Eris, I am so, so sorry.” 

“S’not your fault,” he mumbled, tiredly. 

You wanted to scream. Wanted to cry and scream and rage. But it was more important to take care of him right now. So you slowly set to work, apologizing each time he flinched as you cleaned his wounds. Your heart ached as you helped him out of the bath once you were finished.

“Come on,” you murmured. “Let’s get you on the bed.”

You helped him strip off his wet pants and underwear before laying him down on the bed on his stomach. You pulled the sheets up to his waist, leaving his back untouched. You kneeled on the bed next to him, taking out the salve to start spreading it over the wounds. 

Eris let out a sigh as you started applying it and your heart cracked in your chest as he slowly drifted to sleep, his body finally giving out. You cried as you smeared the salve over the burns before bandaging them gently. Once you were done, your head dropped to his shoulder.

“I’m so sorry,” you cried to his sleeping form. “I’m so sorry.” 

You don’t know how long you sat there, crying over him. But at some point, you finally sat up and wiped your face dry. Beron might’ve forbade any healer from helping Eris, but you had learned a thing or two from Elain about some plants that might help. Plants that the two of you used to mash into a paste and give to Feyre for all the blisters and calluses she would return home with when you were living in that small cottage. Plants that you knew you had seen during your ride in the forest with Eris. 

With that in mind, you gathered yourself before setting out to collect some, leaving Eris asleep on the bed for now. 

Luckily, you were able to sneak from the Forest House without anyone seeing you. You hid amongst the trees, plucking the plants and bundling them in your skirt. When you were confident that you had gathered enough, you started making your way back to the Forest House but you didn’t make it very far before you were interrupted. 

Shadows seemed to grow between the trees until a very familiar face stepped from them. You gasped in shock as Azriel materialized right before you, his hazel eyes staring directly at you. 

“Y/n,” he greeted, cooly, looking over your form like he was looking for any injuries before meeting your gaze again. 

“Az…Azriel? What are you doing here?”

“We’ve figured out a way to get you out of this mess,” he said, taking a step towards you. “Come, Feyre will explain to you once we’re home.” 

You mirrored his step backwards, eyes going wide. You didn’t want to go home…in fact, you knew in your heart that Velaris was no longer home to you. Home was…Home was Eris. You shook your head at him, trying to form the words to tell him you weren’t coming. 

“N-no,” you finally stuttered out. “I-I can’t go back. I don’t want—”

“Like I said—it will all be explained once we get back,” Azriel cut you off, moving quicker than you and grabbing your arm causing you to drop your skirt. All the plants you had gathered for Eris fell to the ground. “Let’s go.” 

And then you were engulfed in shadows, the Autumn Court disappearing from view. And all that was left in your place was a pile of healing plants for your injured mate—for Eris who would go on to wake up alone. 

· · ─────── ·♡· ─────── · ·

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[smallpwbbles]

Strawberry shortcake and Hard things to talk about.

Got another Biolizard shadow au ic for y’all, I swear this was gonna be a short thing that just had fluff. I suddenly just started going off the rails and the lil devil on my shoulder egged me on to add angst.

Hope yall like it either way (gonna start putting these on A03 if I write a third thing and it ends up longer than this one)

————————————————————————

Amy concluded she was going to kill them when they arrived. She sat and stewed right in front of a large tartan pink picnic blanket adorned with many baked treats she had spent an entire morning slaving over to get everything to perfection. When she baked she didn’t do it half way.

It was getting to half past four, three o’clock she had told the blue hedgehog and had texted to Rouge as direct long distance communication with Shadow was practically non existent considering how scarce the beast hedgehog liked to make himself.

Many weeks of pleading and begging him to at least join one of her picnics had led to him finally relenting and agreeing on today's outing. The pink hedgehog's excitement was uncontrollable as she absolutely exploded in enthusiasm when he finally agreed. Rouge had to keep her grounded as her eager rambles about picnic locations and recipes to bake had overwhelmed the large hedgehog causing him to promptly leave with a chaos control.

Amy forgot how easily flustered the guy got when encountered with a reaction he had no idea how to respond to. She didn’t blame him for teleporting as quickly as he did, the confirmation of his attendance was all she needed to begin preparing for the picnic.

That was three days ago, and now she sat in a small secluded park outside of station square with her tasty baked treats getting stale by the second. So, yeah she was definitely gonna give those two a good hit with her hammer if they didn’t show up in the next 5 minutes.

Speaking of the devil, a blue burr dashed right up to her picnic blanket. Amy scrambled to keep her treats from flying off the blanket due to the wind generated by Sonic as he dusted himself off looking quite frazzled, it didn’t quell her anger at his tardiness.

“You better have a good reason for being more than an hour late” she chided, Sonic was picking at a branch that has somehow got lodged into his quills most likely on the way to the park. He peeped at all the delicious treats strewn about in front of him, it didn’t escape Amy’s notice the way his face scrunched up at her strawberry shortcake. With that attitude he was gonna receive a bonk on the head with her hammer regardless of a good reason for his current punctuality.

“Sorry Ames, had a bit of a blow up in Tails workshop, was making sure Tails was okay before jetting off” Sonic explained. Well that was definitely a good reason, she began to feel a little bad at her anger towards the blue hedgehog.

“Oh my gosh, is he okay?” Amy asked, her worry quickly eased by an adorable smile from Sonic.

“Yeah yeah, the explosion was just from a faulty invention of his, there was a heckuva mess but he’s all good” he gave a thumbs up to add to assurance

Amy sighed in relief, it was good to know the little fox hadn’t got himself hurt, Tails was usually the best with machinery but had the odd hiccup here and there.

Her relaxation was replaced with alertness as she watched Sonic reach towards her pound cake, Amy slapped the outstretched gloved hand which had Sonic bring it back to himself instantly. He pouted at her as he soothed his attacked hand, Amy only rolled her eyes at him.

“Don’t be rude! Shadow isn’t here yet y’know” she scolded, she loved to let people indulge in her baked goods but she believed proper etiquette was to wait for all her guests to be there first.

“Aww but we have no idea when he’ll even be here” the blue hero whined “it’s no problem if I have a piece”

“You’re a world renowned hero and can’t wait a little longer to have some cake?” she teased.

“I totally can! I just happened to not have had breakfast today, give a guy a break Ames” he protested “if was shadow instead of me you would of given him cake at the first chance”

“Maybe, but unlike you Shadow doesn’t gag at the sight of my strawberry shortcake”

“It’s not my fault it’s like the worst kind of cake” Sonic huffed. She was about to reach for the hilt of her hammer when the air began to feel hot, immediately she and Sonic braced themselves when a large field of energy popped just several feet in front of them. Just as quick as it was to appear the energy dissipated with a present Shadow replacing it. The chaos energy felt like static as it waved around the area for a moment before shadow coolly drove away the extra energy his chaos control generated.

The monstrous hedgehog searched the park for a moment before laying his eyes on the two tiny normal hedgehogs and Amy’s adorable picnic blanket under a large oak tree. It provided a nice shade from the glazing summer heat which Shadow quite liked so he began a tiny trek to the other two.

Amy had gotten used to Shadow's overwhelming presence quite quickly as did Sonic, she heard his heavy footsteps as he situated himself in front of the picnic. His large size provided additional shade from the sun which she greatly appreciated as she hadn’t expected the Temperature to rise as much as it did today. Shadow plopped himself down and awkwardly placed himself on his hind legs, his current position reminded Amy of a cat which was funny because she was sure he was only a hedgehog and lizard.

“Shadow! I’m so glad you're here” she exclaimed as she ran up to give his ankle a quick hug, he returned the gesture by placing his claws on her back gently “I managed to get Sonic here too! Isn’t that great”. The monstrous hedgehog turned to the blue hero and gave a nod of acknowledgement , Sonic returned it with a wink which Amy could have sworn had Shadow flustered for a second.

She left the ankle to return to the large blanket “I worked real hard this morning, I’ve got all kinds of tasty goods for us! I’ve got peanut butter cookie cups, rocky road, lemon drizzle, strawberry shortcake” she pointedly looked at Sonic at the last item, Shadow could only raise an eyebrow at the sudden hostility. “Oh! I also tried something new, they’re these coffee pasty knots, Rouge told me how much you love coffee Shadow so I wanted to give these a try”.

Shadows' fluffy ears perked up at the word coffee, he also couldn’t help the tinge of annoyance at his bat companion for letting slip his obsession with coffee beans. Rouge and the little hedgehogs in front of him were some of the few he trusted most, but he couldn’t help the need to keep things about himself to a minimum. He’d have a word with the bat about it later, as much as he dreaded it.

Sonic paid no attention to Amy’s list of pastries, face already stuffed with her iconic pound cake, he held two other slices in his hand. Amy commended herself for going the extra mile on the pound cake as she knew Sonic was an absolute sucker for it. She hoped he’d indulge in the other treats as she came prepared with the info that Shadow didn’t actually need to eat. It came in handy for a person like him considering his massive size and the amount of sustenance that would be needed to satisfy him if he needed to eat.

Luckily the chaos energy that inhabited every molecule of his body made the need for such a substantial amount of food non existent. Not to say he wouldn’t eat here and there, though Amy had heard he only ever ate bags of coffee beans. An odd choice of food to be consuming all the time but Amy didn’t want to judge, Shadow was an odd being in itself and she only really wanted to understand the guy. That’s what having him here for the picnic was about

Amy recalled months back when Shadow was consumed by his grief, he’d lost all he ever knew and loved to people who wanted to keep knowledge of his existence silenced. She remembered the news broadcasts that presented a monster in station square, lashing out at anything and anyone around him in reckless but anguished abandon. With hindsight she knew the fear of him was natural, but knowing his history as she did now, Amy just wanted Shadow's time on the planet to be wonderful.

She couldn’t forget, when she encountered Shadow staring upon what she later found out was his old enclosure on the abandoned ARK. He looked numb and far away, she had stood her ground and begged the giant from the depths of her heart to help the people of earth, she wasn’t sure why her words had seemed to have struck him as hard as they did but she was glad, his effort in stopping the eclipse cannon was palpable though he was greatly injured after the events and needed many weeks to recover.

She was taken out of her thoughts as Sonic began choking on what was probably his 4th serving of the pound cake, Amy rolled her eyes as the hedgehog hacked and coughed to dislodged the cake he was previously munching on. She ran over and gave him a few firm pats on the back that didn’t seem to do the job until a forefinger and thumb entered her view and flicked Sonic right on the back. It managed to dislodge the cake but the force of the flick had been too strong and sent sonic flying into some dirt a few feet away.

Amy felt bad, she really did, but she needed a second to hide her laughter at the sight, Shadow looked nonchalantly and quite a bit proud of his actions. Better for your face to be covered in earth than choking on a piece of her iconic pound cake Amy thought, she didn’t say it out loud as the expression Sonic had when he lifted himself out of the ground told her he wasn’t in the mood for teasing.

————————————————————————

Sonic was currently strewn lazily across Amy’s lap while Shadow had lay out onto his forearms not too far from them. Her treats had been significantly devoured by Sonic who decided to show what a glutton he could be today. She had clapped madly when she noticed Shadow pick up the coffee pastry between two enormous claws to give it a try, she couldn’t help herself as she hounded him on how it tasted. Shadow merely gave a “it’s good” in response which to her somehow translated to it’s the best thing ever and she squeaked in flatteration. He blushed heavily and she apologised for her excitement.

She stroked the blue hedgehogs quills, she adored the guy but she was bewildered at how he didn’t notice the amount of little twigs and leaves caught in his head, sleeping on a branch of a tree was all she got in response when pointed out the reason for their presence in his quills.

Shadow looked just as lazy as Sonic did, as he lay with his eyes closed. She appreciated how calm and relaxed the beast hedgehog looked, it was far cry from the rage filled monster he was months ago, he used to looked like the living embodiment of anger. She recalled when Sonic described his first encounter with the lizard hedgehog, it was like the air itself was boiling with Shadows rage as he and Sonic had a standoff in the centre of station square.

The ferocity at which Shadow came at Sonic on that day was terrifying, meeting again with Sonic upon prison island, she was met with the blue hedgehog recovering from an attack that Tails deducted was a poisonous sort of chaos energy Shadow was able to generate. It was no wonder how Sonic got captured so easily. Though she couldn’t imagine Shadow attacking any of them with such a move now, she knew he wouldn’t admit it but he clearly had grown to like the lot of them.

She turned her attention away from Sonic to look at Shadow, his nose would twitch every so often, probably all the pollen surrounding them giving him a bit of irritation, she noticed Sonic’s Hay fever acting up a few times during the picnic, she outstretched her hand to the nose as it was the closest thing of Shadow near her, he opened his eyes at the touch of her tiny hand on his nose and sat up a bit.

“I’m really glad you're here shadow” she expressed, his face turned absolutely red and he plopped back onto his forearms, greatly trying to hide his flushed face behind them as the assertion of Amy’s gladness for his presence warmed his heart a bit too much to handle.

“I second that” sonic exclaimed as he passively pointed his finger in the sky and then to shadow. Amy hoped the extra love would make Shadow absolutely beat red but Sonic's deceleration seemed to make the Large hedgehog think hard for a moment, he sat up completely, casting a shadow over the two little hogs and gave them a hard look.

“I don’t…deserve this” his deep voice rumbled out.

That had Amy puzzled, what did he mean by that? Though she realised she wasn’t going to get an answer by looking up cluelessly at him.

“Deserve what Shadow?” She questioned, the hard look he had melted into a look of regret and guilt,

“What I did I-“ he fumbled on his words for a moment, she knew conversation was hard for him but she was patient for an explanation of his sudden rejection of their affections “I hurt a lot of people, I hurt Sonic…you shouldn’t be so kind” he finally found the words.

She watched as he fidgeted with his claws, Sonic had sat up from her lap and looked pensive at the huge hedgehog. The atmosphere had gotten melancholic at the confession, it pieced together in Amy’s mind about Shadows usual behaviour, why he made himself scarce and his refusal to do anything with their group. The most Shadow would go out and do was the top secret missions with Rouge but that was mandatory due to his admission into GUN and Amy wouldn’t count that “getting outside”.

Even then the admission had been because GUN wanted to keep Shadow under some level of control, Rouge fought hard for Shadow to work with the defence force lest they decide to lock Shadow away or at worst put him down due to fear of his power. She knew Shadow hated it and the confession he just gave concluded the acceptance of such a job was punishment for events that transpired months ago.

The humongous hedgehog had come to some sort near peace at his currently life, but the lingering, persisting guilt of everything never left him, the guilt that his very existence got his family and many other innocent people killed, the guilt of his rage that he took out on the innocents of station square and Sonic who had done nothing but try and defend his home. But especially with what led to the near firing of the eclipse cannon, which could have destroyed the planet, the only thing that kept Maria as motivated as she was to get better and live on said planet. With him.

He dug his claws into his legs, the recollection of the events began to make his head hurt, Amy rose to her feet and beelined to a claw placed close enough for her to reach “Shadow, no no we really do love having you here! What happened to you was terrible, anyone would be as mad as you were” she asserted

“It doesn’t make what I did okay” he retorted, Shadow always made sure to keep his voice down, he possessed powerful chords due to his size but in the moment, he could feel his irritation rise, she wasn’t getting it.

“It doesn’t, you're right but you felt like everyone was against you, you had just woken up and everything was different and anyone you knew was gone!” Amy argued, shadow flinched at the reminder, it was true. His emergence from stasis was followed by his brain wracking to recollect everything that has previously happened, in that moment he could only remember panic, screams and a gunshot. It was a miracle he didn’t just tear Eggman in two when initially met with the scientist's presence.

Amy needed to be careful, she could feel Shadow beginning to growl resulting in vibrations being sent throughout the ground, it shook her up a bit but her resolve stayed strong. She didn’t want him to up and leave, thinking he didn’t deserve the bit of peace he was given today.

“They’re gone because of me, it was all cause of me” Shadow refuted, Amy didn’t know what to say, his pain ran so deep yet so fresh, to him the events hadn’t transpired 50 years ago, he was here with no people that even begin to comprehend that sort of pain

“Ohhhh my GOSH, SHADOW!” Sonic exasperated, Amy had forgotten he was still sitting on her picnic blanket as he rose up pointedly and marched over to where she stood with one of Shadows claws in her arms, “c'mon you’re waaaay smarter than this”.

Amy punched Sonic on his noodley arm, Shadow didn’t need the blue hedgehog being his cocky or passive right now, she wanted to handle the current situation delicately and Sonic was asking for a bonk with her hammer with that last response.

However he surprised her with the renewal of his last response, “you don’t seriously think I would have come out here if I knew you weren’t here?” Sonic asked

“You would have came for Amy…and the cake” shadow flatly responded as he looked down at the two hedgehog’s”

“I mean yeah” sonic sheepishly rubbed the back of his head “but I wanted to be here for you too, you disappear so often and it’s kinda really hard to find you usually”.

Shadow shrank at that, he may have wanted to keep to himself and be alone, but the declaration that Sonic made began to challenge the beliefs that he was better off in doing that.

“We really are glad you’re here with us Shads, Amy’s the most honest gal I know so don’t even try think she would lie, she know what she means when she says what she does” Sonic reasoned, Amy turned to him and let a warm smile melt on her face, she really did adore him.

“I’m not even mad about those fights we had back then, that move you pulled with your chaos energy was actually kinda sick I’m not gonna lie” Sonic admitted, he truly wasn’t lying “does that move work on robots cause it would really help me out when I’m giving Eggman's robots a good thrashing”.

Shadow was nonplussed, the blue hedgehog really just had a way of confusing the ever living chaos out of him, he couldn’t comprehend why the hero couldn’t hold a grudge. He first thought the blue hedgehog's kindness was all a charade,as for the first couple weeks as he recovered from his injuries sustained from the eclipse cannon incident, Sonic would visit from time to time and in the moment Shadow believed it was to gawk or just see how defeated he’d become. It hit shadow the reason was because Sonic genuinely cared about him.

It overwhelmed Shadow, the non-rational and impulsive part of his brain just wanted to pick Sonic up like a doll and shake him until it satisfied Shadow, he instead lay himself gently on the grass and screamed into the earth.

The trembling from the screeching Shadow did shake Sonic and Amy up a bit as the latter grabbed onto the blue hedgehog for balance, they looked fixedly at the monstrous hedgehog as he finished his muffled shouts onto the earth beneath him. He merely turned his large head towards the two afterwards looking fairly calmer which was much better than the meltdown he was clearly heading towards before.

“Do you feel better?” Amy asked as she unlatched herself from Sonic's waist.

Shadow's eyes swivelled about as he seemed to think the question over, he decided a simple nod would be best to answer.

Amy was glad to hear that, but she felt she was going to undo a bit of that release of emotion with what she was about to ask, though the time for the question seemed appropriate as she couldn’t image when she could next ask him given the chance

“Shadow… back on the ARK, when I found you and asked for your help, what made you change your mind?” She finally inquired, shadows eyes fully opened at the question, Sonic turned to her questionably.

“I mean! Um- you don’t have to answer that if you don’t want, I probably shouldn’t have asked anyway sorry!” She felt embarrassment fill her cheeks as Shadow sat up to look down at her tiny form. She wasn’t sure if it was an ignorant thing to ask, but the way Shadow stared down at her made her feel it was.

He looked away from her, she watched as his chest puffed out from a large inhale then deflated from the exhale he let out. “Someone…” Shadow hesitated for a second before continuing “on the ARK, before everything happened I had someone… a friend”.

Amy and Sonic watched as he carefully picked his words, she regret her question now as the memories Shadow tried to retrieve seemed so painful, yet he persisted “she was stuck on the ARK because of a sickness, but she really loved the earth, she made me love the earth” Amy noted how wistful he looked talking about this part of his life, “when the ARK was raided and she got…hurt, she asked me that when I got to earth, I’d do everything I could to protect it, because good people on earth deserved it… I forgot that” Shadow finished

“so when I asked…” Amy was jarred, beginning to fully understand the impact of what she thought was a small plea to the lizard hedgehog.

Shadow looked beat, it seemed such a confession had taken up most of his mental energy. Amy turned to Sonic who looked just as jarred as she felt, but then he spoke up “man shadow, that’s… a lot”.

Shadow grimaced, he agreed and yet again lay on his front, the poor guy looked like he wanted the earth to swallow him up, no doubt feeling a flurry of emotions at admitting such a thing.

“Hey I don’t know how much this means… but I think you're a good person Shadow” Sonic affirmed.

Amy watched Shadow turn to Sonic, his expression made her want to just explode as she swore she could see the yellow of his sclera grow a bit misty, she couldn’t confirm as he abruptly sat up and rubbed at his gigantic eyes before declaring “I’m gonna go”.

Amy was about to argue as she felt he could use more endearment, she was stopped as Sonic placed a hand to her shoulder “no prob Shads! Why don’t you take some Amy’s snacks with you, you don’t mind do you Ames?” he offered

She realised what he was doing, Shadow did look like he needed some time to himself and Sonic was giving him the perfect out, “oh yeah! Of course not, would you take some for Rouge please, not sure when I’ll be giving her a visit so it’s better if you take them” Amy explained as she left Sonic's side to procure a few treats into a plastic container she brought in case either Sonic or Shadow wanted some cakes to take home. She placed the container into a giant outstretched claw that Shadow bent down to offer.

He rose back to full height and eyed the two little hedgehogs, said two hedgehogs enthusiastically waved as Shadow took a few ground shaking steps away from the picnic spot, he glanced a look back at them and responded with a shy wave of goodbye before promptly chaos controlling to whatever location fit for him to decompress.

Amy felt herself relax, she wanted this picnic to be as perfect as possible and while she hadn’t intended a vent session for Shadow she was actually quite glad it had. It seemed if anyone needed that today it was him, she sat back into her blanket and let out a sigh. However the feeling of relaxation began to get nibbled away by a feeling of confusion, she looked up to see Sonic with an annoyingly large grin, she felt something that would irritate her was about to come out his mouth.

“Man your cakes were just the best today Amy” he complimented, maybe she misjudged, that was very sweet of him-

“Shame Shads didn’t eat any of the strawberry shortcake, you sure it’s just me that hates the stuff?-“

The swift swing of her hammer upon his head promptly shut him up before he could continue on with the slander of her strawberry shortcakes.

————————————————————————

Rouge was having a quiet evening all things considered, she sat In her living room sipping chamomile tea from a mug adorned with the quote “another day another slay”. The peace was not long lasting as she felt a few quakes hit her building before she heard creaks and cracks coming from the top of the roof of the apartment building.

That would have been alarming to most people but Rouge had roommates of sorts, one being a homicidal robot with a dry sense of humour and the other being a 35 foot lizard hedgehog who adored the robot's dry sense of humour. She knew the commotion was caused by the latter, she had asked him to not teleport directly on the roof so it caused minor irritation to her when he had just done so again.

She made her way out of the apartment to find the set of stairs that allowed access to the roof, Shadow wasn’t one to just forget her boundaries so she hoped everything was alright with the monstrous hedgehog.

When she opened the old squeaky door that led to the cooling air of outside, she was met with Shadow curled up into a near ball, he needed to curl as the roof didn’t have much space for him to occupy when he spent his time there, the strength of the apartment complex held out well with his weight surprisingly. His quills and scales were a little bristled so she could assume the outing she badgered him to go on may have gone sideways.

She had hoped getting him to interact with others would open up the gruff exterior he led on with, but during the months she had spent with Shadow, it opened her up to many sides of the lizard hedgehog he had yet to share with anyone excluding Omega of course. He obviously didn’t owe anyone information about himself but nonetheless she felt it would be good for him.

Rouge apprehensively approached the massive being in front of her, he was breathing softly and had his arms held to himself, something she noted he did to self soothe, “Hiya hun” she called. He rolled over to address her, looking absolutely exhausted. Whatever limited social battery she saw him with this morning was practically begging for mercy at this point.

“Picnic go well? Did you have a good time?” She asked, she didn’t mean to mother him but she couldn’t help the sense of responsibility she had over him now, the gigantic face displayed to her scrunched up in thought before he let out a noncommittal noise that sounded like a “eh” to her.

Rouge deduced he was nonverbal at this point, he tended to become so when he was overstimulated. “No prob hun, you wanna talk about it tomorrow?” She asked.

His eyes silently thanked her for the out in any more talking, he gave her a firm nod that indicated there would probably be a lot to talk about tomorrow, that was fine. She sipped a bit of her tea and looked at the sun setting before them, “do you want me to stay?”

Shadow thought it over for a moment, he was really tired of talking and interaction but for some reason, Rouge asking to stay with him after today's events felt different, he looked at her and gave another firm nod. The bat flapped her dark purple wings and landed atop the beast hedgehog's head, he could manage that, he didn’t mind when it was Rouge hanging out on his person.

He thought about the first time she had offered to stay with him, it was past dark and she had no reason to be up on the roof with him. He wasn’t wondering that now.

[saphirafoxgirlspost1]

(Open Rp) The Monkey King: Reborn in "The Sakutopian Fox Princess and The Monkey King"

On the Glorious Morning, The Princess Of Sakutopia, Japan Name "Princess Saphira Lorraina Fox" Who was On the Journey To meet the Oracle At the Temple In the Mighty Forest Mountains.. She Ride Her Mighty Kirin Name "Yuki" The leader and the King of the Herds on the Path to seek The Oracle, The reason Why she was Seeking the Oracle Is because She kept Rejecting alot of Suitors back In Sakutopia, Japan. One By one, Many Suitors are rejected by the princess because their hearts are nothing but greed and Dishonoring, and their Minds Are Power Obsessive and Abusive as well, Mostly they wanted the Throne and treat Saphira Like a "simple house wife, maid, servant, or Much worse of them all.. A Slave", Then her Father Decided to Send Saphira to Seek the Oracle At the Zhen Yuan Temple to tell her Whats Her Future Husband Will be soon and what Future Holds as well. When She made it to the Zhen yuans temple, the two Guardian Deities Came and saw Saphira wearing a beautiful Royal kimono and the beautiful Celestial Fox mask and She said,

Saphira:" Greetings, I am Princess Saphira Lorraina Fox Of Sakutopia and I am Here to seek the Oracle."

Deity 1: "And you've come to stay For the Night as well after Seeking the Oracle?"

Saphira:" Why yes, I must Know what Future holds, you see i was sent From m-"

The Second Deity cut off,

Deity 2:" Your Father, we know. The Master Is Fully aware that your here as well, Your More welcome to Stay and we have a Feeling that Master Tang and Those 3 deity will be arriving as well."

Saphira: "Oh? and who are they?"

Deity 1: " We'll Deal with it, So don't worry about it. Please Follow us."

As Saphira Follows the two Deity as they Guided her to the Nice Luxurious Guest room and She loves it very much and then She thanked them very much as she bows ..and then the two Deity sense that they have arrived, as one of them told her that She can feel free to explore until The Oracle finally arrives in the Form of the elderly Woman, She told Saphira That She is in Terrible Danger and that She will be Cursed By a Demon King Name "Yuandi" the First demon Who will put Saphira Into an Eternal Sleep But She will be Awaken by true loves Kiss From a hero Who was Known as "The Great Sage equal to heaven", Saphira was Shocked that Her Future Husband will be the "Monkey king". Then She asked How would this be possible? But the oracle Answers that Destiny has it's ways to bring Two immortal lovers Together For the good of Saphira's Kingdom.. After the oracle left, Saphira began to Explore the temple while wearing a Lovely Fox Mask and began to Hum and Sings Softly with her beautiful Angelic Voice but little does she know that her Voice Echoes through temple and Nature itself At the center of the Temple, Pigsy Heard Her Voice and realized that there's a Princess In The temple as well along with an enchanted Fruit. Then He began to try to look For Sun wukong to Tell him But He already knows because he too heard Saphira's Voice, So He decided to See who She was and began Following Her beautiful Voice Unexpected By Shapeshift into a bug and Pigsy Turns into a caterpillar, When they Found Her In the Lovely Garden,, The Monkey King Saw the Princess Wearing a Fox Mask but he was curious about whats behind that mask of hers While Saphira Is relaxing and Humming beautifully until.. She saw a green Weird looking caterpillar with a Pig face..when she gets closer, Pigsy Spoke saying "Hiya gorgeous!" Saphira made a Small screams and runs off from the garden saying the caterpillar can talk, She stopped and glance back and pants..She could've swore That this Weird caterpillar can talk, She Spawn a beautiful fan and began to fan herself like she's going to Faint, After fanning herself and began to walk on the boardwalk until She hears the Fluttering of the beetle as she sees the weird Pig face caterpillar again and he Spoke again, trying to flirt at her.. but then saphira Smacked him with her fan and hits the wall as he change back to the original self with a Puff of smoke and she runs off fearfully, While she was running and head to the Big Garden part and She looked around making sure that Pigsy doesn't followed her, When she thought it was coast is clear But She was Followed by a weird Brown beetle but turns out it was the monkey king in the beetle form as she gasp and began to fall backward but She was caught by his arms and he said..

[simpingsavant]

Late Night

Pairing: Spencer Agnew x GN!Reader

Summary: You are the person always working when Spencer stops by to get his fix of Mountain Dew Kickstart.

Genre/Warnings: Fluff, slow-burn. A gross man flirts w you for plot purposes. Promise it's very non-major but just in case.

Word Count: 6.4k

A/N: First time posting for smosh, but not the first time posting fanfic. I made a whole side blog for this lol I'm thinking I want to post more so feel free to send me smosh requests and give lots of love so I stay motivated to write more hehe <3

Working the graveyard shift at a 24-hour convenience store is generally not a good idea. Except this one is in a nice area of LA, you’re almost always working with someone, and it’s slow enough that you can get your grad school work done.

Four months ago, when you were first looking at the help wanted sign in the window, you decided you would give it a week to see if it was actually worth it. Now, you were contently typing away on your computer as a group of middle-aged people grabbed alcohol and snacks. They were fancily dressed but the expressions on their faces were reminiscent of college students who were partying through the night like they owned it. When they came up with a case of Pabst Blue Ribbon and enough snacks to last them weeks, you happily scanned the items.

The silver fox dressed in a deep, blue suit dropped a twenty in the tip jar.

“Thank you,” You said, handing him a receipt as his cohorts grabbed the food.

The bell jingled as they left. Your coworker was in the back taking inventory. You looked down at your laptop, rereading the last couple of sentences as you found your place in the research essay you’d been taking notes from.

You loved your job. You worked from 11 pm to 8 am and although it took you time to adjust to a new sleep schedule, it was worth it. You were paid slightly more since you were working such an atrocious shift and you never interacted with your boss. Occasionally, he would message you that he was coming in early to talk, but he often just texted about what he wanted you to get done.

Until 1 am, you were working with Michael, a young man who was in his senior year of college. At 4 am, Marie would come in, an older Latina woman who had been working this shift for over ten years now. She’d relieve you for your break and you’d come back just in time for the morning rush.

You liked the morning rush. Although you couldn’t get much homework done at the time, it was when you had your most regulars. You would see moms buying their children lunch before school, office workers buying cheap coffee, and students buying energy drinks.

Marie would man the register, and you would come to help if needed. During rests, you would be restocking shelves or cleaning.

From 1 am to 4 am, you would usually see only a few faces. You would see students who stay up extremely late or workers having to go in much too early. Since it was a nice neighborhood, they were all pleasant people and you never worried about your own safety or well-being. 

Only one regular came in consistently during these hours. He looked to be about your age with chocolate hair that curled at the nape of his neck. He came in just after 1 am and always sported dark eye circles. He purchased anywhere from 4 to 8 cans of Mountain Dew Kickstart and occasionally a bag of chips. 

Sometimes, you’d see him in the morning again before you were off. He’d buy a cheap coffee and some fruit.

For the first month, you were too concerned with doing your job well to start any conversations besides pleasantries. He was, however, the first customer you recognized as a regular. You couldn’t help but wonder why anyone would need so many energy drinks. In particular, why in God's name did he love Mountain Dew Kickstart?

Maybe you were so intrigued because he caught your eye from day one. He was dressed in combat boots and a worn jacket. You soon learned those two items were part of his daily attire. You liked the way his hair looked or the way his downturned eyes crinkled as he smiled.

In your second month of working there, you spent way too much time trying to think of a way to start a conversation.

So far, you only got:

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

“How’s your night going?”

“Good, and you?”

“Fine. Do you want a bag?”

“No, I have my backpack.”

“Okay. Your total is $12.53, go ahead and swipe, insert, or tap your card. Would you like your receipt?”

Sometimes he said yes, sometimes he said no. A few times, your hands would brush. He was always so warm, your cold hands lingering as he bashfully smiled and looked away.

“Have a good one.”

“You too.”

His hair was getting longer and you thought it suited him well. You wanted nothing more than a reason to hold a genuine conversation with him.

During your third month, that reason finally came.

He walked in, luscious locks replaced with a buzz cut and you couldn’t help but go “Oh wow.”

“Is it that bad?” He joked, rubbing the top of his head.

“No, no,” You immediately said, hands moving rapidly. “It just surprised me.” A beat of silence followed before you added, “You pull it off.” He really did, but you also took that as a sign you liked him a little too much. You felt like a schoolgirl with a crush.

“Thanks, it was for work,” He adds, voice monotone despite the little grin he sported at your compliment. He walks farther into the store, toward the opposite wall with the display of drinks.

“For work? Are you joining the army?” You question, stumbling over your words slightly as you realize that it’s finally happening—you are finally holding a conversation with him.

“No,” He laughs. “I work for this online entertainment company.” He fills his arms with five cans. “It was for a special.”

“Oh,” You reply, rolling on the balls of your feet as you try to think of ways to keep the conversation going. “Are you an actor?”

“More behind the scenes,” He replies, coming up to the counter and placing his drinks down. He grabs a bag of chips from the front display.

“That’s cool,” You say, picking up the first can as you begin scanning.

He shrugs, “I’m sure half the city does stuff online.”

“I doubt that,” You scoff. “Maybe half does entertainment, but definitely not exclusively online content.” Feeling a little bad for shutting him down, you look up at him for a moment, expecting to see disappointment or annoyance.

Instead, he’s smiling. It’s not a large smile, but it quells your anxiety.

“You’re probably right,” He answers, fishing out his card.

“I usually am,” You joke, giving him a quick look before clicking away on your screen. “Your total is $10.54.”

He lets out a short laugh that makes your insides flip with satisfaction. “I’m Spencer by the way,” He offers, putting away his card after the reader beeps.

“Y/N,” You say, tapping your name tag. “Do you want your receipt, Spencer?”

“Sure, Y/N,” He answers, putting his drinks into his backpack.

You rip it from the printer and hold it out. The way he said your name makes you shiver. He takes the receipt and bids you farewell.

You see him in the morning and you’re eighty percent sure he times it to check out with you instead of Marie. Today he opted for an iced coffee with lots of cream and a plastic container of chopped mango.

“Good morning, Spencer. How’d you sleep?”

“Good, but not long enough. What about you?”

You see a flash of realization on his face as soon as he says it, but you’re speaking before he can correct himself.

“Haven’t slept yet, but I get off in ten minutes and will be able to sleep till five today so that’s nice.”

“What’s at five?”

“Class. They’re in the evening since so many grad students work day jobs.” You tap away on the screen. “Would you like your receipt?”

“Nah, just toss it.” He picks up the drink and fruit. “See ya later, Y/N.”

“See you,” You reply, crumpling the receipt and throwing it in the small trash bin under your register before waving to the next customer.

~~

Since then, Spencer has come in every night without fail and sparked a conversation with you. You learn that the company he works for is called Smosh and you think the name is vaguely familiar. He asks you what you’re studying and why you’re always on your laptop.

The next month and a half goes by quickly. You come to expect him, anticipating his nightly visits. He has recently started staying longer, leaning over the counter and smiling at you as he talks about something that happened the other day. If another person comes in, he usually takes that as his sign to leave, wishing you well and exiting before the new customer is ready to check out.

You’re unfortunately not getting as much homework done because of this, but you don’t mind one bit. You either work during your break or just take some time before class to do more. You wonder if he’s not getting as much sleep because of this, worried you’re burdening him. Despite this, you know that you’ll selfishly never be able to turn him away. Even if it is for his own benefit.

Once, he came in before Michael had left. Your conversation was curt and he left right after you gave him the receipt. Michael stared you down the whole time and Spencer was clearly thrown off by another person being there.

“Who was that?” Your coworker asked, moving toward you from his spot behind the hot food.

“Just a regular,” You answer, trying to keep your cool. You pull out a cloth and begin wiping down the counter, wanting to occupy your hands. “He usually comes later.”

“Ah,” Michael says, nodding slowly and giving you a look. “That’s it?”

“Yeah?”

“Interesting.”

The comment piques your interest and you can’t help but ask, “How so?”

Michael smirks at you, “Why do you care?”

“Bro, shut up,” You hiss, pushing him out of your face and walking over to your stash of food. Your face felt hot as you walked past, and you attempted to hide it in the collar of your shirt. It was never fun to be caught with a crush, but you wanted to know Michael’s thoughts. So far, you and Spencer always talked in privacy, with no onlookers to comment on if your feelings seemed mutual.

“Fine, fine,” He relents, holding his hands up. “It’s just that I saw him through the window before he came in and he was smiling way too big for someone coming in the pick up energy drinks.”

“You’d be surprised. He gets those every night,” You defensively argue, “He probably has a shrine at home.”

“Oh, come on,” Michael says, rolling his eyes as you pop a chip into your mouth. “That smile dropped as soon as he saw me. I bet he wishes it was just you.”

“Don’t say that stuff.”

“Why not? Don’t you like him? You definitely lit up when you saw him.”

You gawk at your coworker, absolutely astonished at how easy it was for him to notice. This was the first time anyone witnessed the two of you interact and now you were questioning every interaction. Did he like you? Or did he just like that you gave him a confidence boost because your infatuation was so obvious?

“W-what’s your major again? Investigation?” You accuse, stuttering out of pure frustration.

“Yes, actually—”

You roll your eyes, but the sound of the door brings your back to attention. You steel your expression but are grateful the conversation ended. It was a wake-up call for you and you spent the rest of your shift trying to understand your feelings more.

Could it still be called a crush? You felt like you knew so much and yet so little about him. When did you cross the line from strangers to acquaintances? How do you go from acquaintances to friends? Did you even want to be friends?

After that, Spencer always came in after Michael left, his disposition more friendly when it was just the two of you. You didn’t know if that was a good sign or a bad sign, but it was hard to think about when only a counter separated the two of you and he was radiating warmth and cracking jokes.

~~

“Okay,” You hear Michael say and all of a sudden you are back to reality, no farther in your reading than you were 10 minutes ago.

The door to the back shuts and you look at your coworker with wide eyes.

“I finally finished with inventory.”

He looks down at his phone, prompting you to look at the time showing on your laptop.

12:56

“Sweet,” He says, tucking his phone into his back pocket. “Need anything from me before I go?” 

“No,” You answer. “Enjoy your night.”

“Thanks, I’m gonna go grab my stuff before I clock out.”

“For sure. See you tomorrow.”

“Later,” Michael says.

He opens the door to the back and you turn to your computer. The break room was through those doors as was the back entrance which almost all employees used when coming and going.

You focused on your computer, reading the most important parts of the study and taking down notes. In the back of your mind, you knew Spencer would be arriving soon. It makes you nervous, butterflies erupting in your stomach as you await his arrival.

You have been thinking lately about how to advance your relationship. Maybe get more personal with the information or invite him to hang out outside of your job. The idea makes you queasy because you worry about ruining everything by trying to get more.

You finished the reading and moved on to another class assignment. Spencer came in soon after, his lips quirked up and no jacket on. The weather was getting warmer and it was rather dry. You could absolutely walk around with only a T-shirt and jeans on despite the time.

This, however, drew your eyes to his arms immediately. They weren’t as hairy as you were expecting, his beard and how quickly his hair grew back making you think they would be. He wasn’t very muscley in any way, but your eyes shamelessly lingered on his biceps longer than you wanted.

His skin was littered with freckles and tattoos, black ink that started at his forearm and rose past his t-shirt. You could spend hours looking at them, a couple of them immediately garnering your interest.

“Hey,” You greeted, your eyes snapping up to his face. You were pretty sure he caught you, but he thankfully said nothing. Maybe he was used to his tattoos being looked at, an easy cover considering you weren’t just looking at his tattoos.

“Hey, how’s your night?” He makes his way across the store with ease, eyes staying on you.

“Fine, it’s extra slow tonight.”

“That’s nice,” He’s speaking loud enough that you can hear him from far away. “Are you getting a lot of homework done?”

“Yeah,” You replied. “Finals are coming up and I’m working on all the trivial homework now so I can study and work on the final essays in the library.”

“Is this your final year?”

“Sort of. I’ll be getting my masters after this, but I’m on an automated track for my PhD.”

There’s silence as he grabs a final can and walks up to the front. It’s almost awkward, but you aren’t sure why. It seems like he wants to ask you something, but is struggling to say it.

You start scanning his items, letting him think instead of trying to fill the space with meaningless talk.

“Are you still working here over the summer?”

“I am,” You light up, realizing why he was nervous. It sent a spark through your body to think about him missing you.

God, you wanted him so bad.

“I’m also doing some research work for a professor though,” You add. “I’m honestly too busy to have a job and it will only get worse in the upcoming year, but I need the money and this is the best option for pay and the ability to do homework.”

“Damn,” Spencer sighs. “I’m sorry about that.”

His voice is soft and sincere. It throws you off for a moment, not used to this kind of sympathy. Your social circle consists of Michael, Marie, and other students who were also going through their own shit.

“Oh, it's nothing,” You shyly reply, eyes falling to the counter and lips forming a tight line as your mind races.

“No, seriously,” Spencer insists. “It must be so difficult and yet you never seem like you’re struggling.”

With a large breath, you finally accept his compliment. “Thank you, that’s very nice of you.” You look up to see that his gaze is already on you and you hold eye contact for an absurd amount of time. You’re sure any onlookers would consider the scene intense.

The pressure of the moment builds, compressing your lungs.

“Um, anyways, your total is $9.54,” You say, breaking the silence and eye contact.

“Oh, right.”

Spencer shoves his hand into his pocket to grab his wallet and you once again admire his arms as he’s busy.

“How was work today?” You ask, wanting to dissipate the intensity of the moment.

“Long.” He answers. “This week is a filming week so I’ve been busy as hell working behind the camera and being in a few videos too. Tomorrow is Friday though and I don’t have to be in till 11 am.”

You hum in acknowledgment, “That sucks.” 

Long ago, when curiosity finally got to you, you looked up Smosh. You realized quickly that the name was familiar because it was quite popular back in OG YouTube. You spent an hour exploring their channels before growing bored and looking up videos with Spencer specifically. It was weird and you could only watch in short increments of time before needing a break. You felt like you were violating his privacy, but struggled to stop when you realized just how funny he was, his humor translating perfectly on camera. He held your attention in so many videos, quick quips making you burst out laughing.

You also note the differences in how he talks to you and how he talks to the camera. Although quiet, he cracks jokes almost every time he speaks. His coworkers seem like friends and you’re sure that helps to comfort any nerves he would have on screen. However, they were obviously trained on-camera talent whereas he simply fell into it because of how much the audience liked him. Around you, he made jokes, but he also seemed to shed the demeanor he developed for videos. Not every sentence was about entertaining.

They were real. Real discussions with real problems no matter how mundane.

“Yeah, but at least we are getting it done. Next week is all at my computer or in meetings,” He adds, tucking away his card and putting his drinks into his backpack. “Anyways, so, when is your finals week?”

“In two weeks technically, but I have a couple of major things going on next week,” You answer, taking a seat on the stool next to you.

“Like what?” Spencer inquires, a light in his eyes that sends a shiver up your spine.

“Well, I’m taking four classes. Two of them have an exam and a final essay. One has a final essay and matching presentation, and then last is a group assignment that also has a presentation and essay.”

“Oh no, not a group assignment,” Spencer interjects, empathy on the tip of his tongue.

“I know,” You agree, nerves falling away as you ease into familiar territory. “People in masters programs are not as bad but they can still be pretty clueless and unhelpful.” You shake your head in frustration, “Like this one guy in my group, he thinks he is so edgy and smart. He takes no criticism but also doesn’t put in enough work. He’s basically made me his personal target and I literally have a group chat with two other members just to rant when he says the stupidest shit.”

“Damn, sounds like an ass.”

“He is,” You groan, closing your eyes. “But we are almost done. We have the essay due next week and then presentations during the finals period.” You grin in relief, “After that, I have two weeks of break before starting my internship with the professor.”

“Are you getting paid for that?” Spencer asks.

The conversation was flowing easily, his interest in your life more evident than ever. It isn’t lost on you that he’s exhibiting every sign of attentive listening and it makes your insides twist. He’s leaning forward, fingers tapping away on the counter as he nods periodically.

“Only in experience,” You sigh. “Money would be great, but I’d rather learn from this and not get paid than not do it at all. I only have to dedicate 12 hours a week to it anyway and that’s not much considering my usual schedule is jam-packed.”

“What’s the study about?” He asks, holding your gaze more often than usual. You find it hard to reciprocate, too nervous to engage in whatever he is doing. You aren’t sure if you could call it flirting because he definitely wasn’t complimenting you, but he was acting differently enough that it was noticeable.

Before you can answer, a customer walks in, the bell ringing in your ears as you look at the brunette in front of you. You expect him to leave like every time before, but he doesn’t move. Although thrown off slightly, you recover quickly and answer his question. When the customer is ready to check out, Spencer simply steps to the side but lingers near. As soon as the man leaves, Spencer is right back where he was and asking you another question that keeps you talking.

He leaves twenty minutes later, eyes half-lidded and tired. You don’t see him that morning, likely because he doesn’t have to go into the office as early as usual. Despite logic, you still miss him.

~~

When Spencer comes in that night, he’s later than usual. Not by much, it’s not even 2 am when he walks through the door. And yet, he’s apologetic.

“Hey, sorry,” He mumbles, coming right up to the counter.

Taken aback, your hands slip from your keyboard and you stand up straight. Fridays were always the busiest weekday and although you did wonder where Spencer was, you didn’t have much time to think about it.

“I was playing a game and totally lost track of time,” He continued, a touch more out of breath than usual. He runs a hand through his short, recently bleached hair.

“No worries,” You say, not quite sure why he’s apologizing. It’s not like you had a set time to hang out or do something together. “Need to come get a drink so you can keep going?” You ask, trying to dissipate the awkward feeling that was bubbling up. You didn’t want to let yourself assume more than was reality.

“No, no, I mean,” He stumbles, “I probably will go back to playing, I just—never mind.” He looks down, staring at the counter, specifically the display of scratchers in the built-in glass case.

God, this felt so weird. You shouldn’t have said that, maybe he actually wanted to see you but then you ruined it by making it about the drinks and not you.

“So, what game were you playing?” You ask, the air feeling stuffy.

After a relieved sigh, Spencer goes into the details. You listen intently because not only is he a good storyteller, but you also genuinely care about his interests.

As he rants about some game mechanic, your mind begins to wander. More precisely, you wonder if your affection for him is obvious. Even from the short interaction you had in front of Michael, he could tell there was something more going on. To a stranger would it be obvious? To your friends would it be obvious? Would they say you two would make a cute couple? Or would they not see the chemistry?

“Oh, that’s frustrating,” You say, picking up on the pause in his monologue.

“Eh,” He shrugs, “It’s life.” He leans over the counter, shoulders more relaxed than when he first entered. “I needed a break anyway. So, how’s your night been?”

“Well,” You begin. “I felt rather lost without you.” Sarcasm is dripping off your tongue and Spencer immediately smiles. “My internal clock is all screwed up.”

“You poor thing,” He says, playing along.

“You, sir, need to take your responsibility more seriously,” You laugh, sitting back down in your chair and leaning over to grab your water. “More than half an hour late, I’m sure your body is screaming for a Mountain Dew.”

“Not just a Mountain Dew,” He protests, “A Mountain Dew Kickstart.”

You giggle, just about to add something before the bell rings and your eyes immediately shift to the front door. The patron, dressed in black jeans, a blue hoodie, and a leather jacket, comes up to you immediately. In the fifteen-foot walk between you and the door, you notice he is at least twenty years older than you, skin wrinkling and sagging with age. His clothes are worn, fraying at the seams. When he pushes forward, Spencer immediately slinks away, stepping over to look at the opposite wall of food. The stranger places his hands on the counter and you see dirt under his nails.

When he speaks, his voice is hoarse.

“Two packs of the Marlboro Red,” He commands, his eyes dragging up and down your body. Just as you turn to grab the cigarettes, you can see a smirk forming on his lips.

You sigh, taking a moment to harden your exterior before turning around to scan the packs. These kinds of customers were uncommon for the area, but still came in enough for you to pick them out of a crowd immediately. Usually, they leave easily enough.

“Anything else?” You ask, giving him a tight-lipped smile.

“Two of those beef taquitos, hun,” He says, a dirty finger pressing against the warm glass.

You feel a wave of cold at the name but move aside to grab the hot food without any fuss. The sooner he leaves the better. When you hand them over to him, he purposefully moves his hand far enough forward that it touches yours. You are vaguely aware of Spencer in the background, but force your eyes off him.

You can deal with this on your own just fine.

The stranger's eyes linger on your hand and you snatch it away, typing on the tablet to add the taquitos to his total.

“Anything else?” You echo, voice more curt than before.

“Hmm,” He hums contemplatively, putting his finger to his chin like he’s performing. “I suppose I’ll take your number too.”

You fake a laugh, looking into his eyes for only a moment before going back to your screen. “Although I’m flattered, I don’t give my number to strangers.” A few more taps to the device, “Your total is $22.37.”

“Well,” He leans forward and reads off your name from the tag. It sounds sickly coming from his lips. “My name is Mark. Give me your number and then we won’t be strangers.” He pulls out his card to pay, shoving the cigarettes into his pockets.

You give him a forced smile, resting your hand on your heart while you try to let him down gently. “Nice to meet you, Mark, but still. I am not interested.”

“Why?” He questions, “You got a boyfriend?”

You debate telling him you’re in a relationship. Maybe it will get him to leave, maybe he’ll just suggest you cheat. It’s always difficult to tell.

“Dude,” You hear a voice speak up. “You’re holding up the line.”

Mark turns around to see Spencer a few feet behind. You have to crane your neck to see him, the brunette lining up down an aisle. He’s holding some random items, clearly having wandered around the store, paying attention but trying to look like he was merely shopping.

Just before Mark can say anything, Spencer is pushing forward and shouldering past. “Just take the L and move on,” He deadpans, his voice low and foreboding. He stares down the stranger, putting his items onto the counter without even looking away. He’s half a head shorter than the guy, but his presence alone makes up for that tenfold.

“Here’s your receipt,” You quietly interject, holding it out. Half of you was thankful for the interruption, but the other half of you was annoyed. Despite that, you choose to use this opportunity to end the conversation.

With a huff, Mark snatches the receipt from your hand.

“Whatever,” He mumbles to himself, “Bitch.”

The bell dings as he exits, leaving you and Spencer in a loud silence. You let out a shaky breath.

“Oh my god,” Spencer begins. His words draw your gaze away from the door and to him. You can see the concern on his face and the disgust in his eyes. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” You have a moment to say before he’s talking again.

“What an ass. Do you not have a panic button?”

“I do,” You answer, “But that’s for robberies.”

“Or this!” He protests, gesturing at the door where the man had exited. “You need to stay safe.”

“I was staying safe,” You defend.

“I can’t believe they have you alone at this time of night,” Spencer continues, seemingly not registering your words. “Like, anyone can just come in here!”

“Spencer,” You say, trying to grab his attention.

“You should never have to deal with that kind of–”

“Spencer,” You repeat, finally getting him to shut up.

“What?”

“It’s fine, I can deal with this on my own. You didn’t need to help,” You explain, wishing the moment would simply pass so you could move on.

“Just because you can deal with it on your own doesn’t mean you have to,” He argues, his voice softer than before.

His words leave you at a loss, unsure how to respond. He breaks the silence before you can.

“How often does this happen?”

“Not often,” You say, struggling to make any eye contact. “This is a nice area and usually they just give up after a couple of tries.”

Spencer sighs, running a hand through his hair with an exasperated expression. “Sorry,” He mumbles, the word being pulled from him. “I shouldn’t have freaked out like that.” You can see the regret in his eyes. “I got so heated and I should have just made sure you were okay.”

“Oh,” You say, “Thanks.” His apology was unexpected but very appreciated. “I am fine.”

Spencer nods, the moment feeling slightly awkward as the resolution comes. “When does the next person get here?” He asks.

“Four,” You answer, taking a chance to grab your phone and check the time.

2:21

“Damn, that’s a long time.”

“It’s whatever,” You shrug. “It goes pretty quickly since I’m basically just talking to you and then doing homework.”

When the words register for him, there’s a glint in his eyes and a small smile forming on his face. “That’s good,” He replies. There’s a pause before he speaks again, “But damn, that’s like an hour and a half away.”

“Yeah,” You sigh, resting back on your stool.

“Can I stay?” He asks, surprising you. “For peace of mine, I mean. I’m just thinking about me leaving and that guy coming right back in. I don’t know, it’s dumb, but I just can’t imagine leaving you right now.”

“Sure,” You reply, interrupting his word vomit once you’ve regained your barrings.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” You shrug, a closed-lip grin forming. “I would love for you to keep me company.”

“Cool,” He says, a smile forming for him.

The moment is awkward and foreign. From an outside perspective, you probably both look like grinning idiots.

“Well,” Spencer begins, breaking the silence, “I’m definitely going to need an energy drink to stay awake.” He looks down at the pile of snacks he brought up. “You keep working, I’m gonna put these away and come back up with stuff I actually want to buy.”

“Roger that,” You reply, giving him a look before turning back to your computer. You don’t get much work done as you wait for him to come back up. You can’t see him in the aisles, but as he moves between aisles, he always looks at you. The security camera screen is just to your right and you can’t help but watch him as he puts away the random collection of items.

You’re nervous, too distracted by his presence to focus on anything. You were somewhat excited to spend such a prolonged period of time with him. However, you were also absolutely terrified that you would make a fool of yourself or simply seem too boring.

“Okay,” You hear him say, already aware that he was making his way back to the front. “All done.” He is now holding three cans of Mountain Dew Kickstart and a chocolatey protein bar. “Can I also get a couple of taquitos?”

“What kind?” You ask, reaching forward to start scanning his items.

“Your pick, I guess."

You smile at him and see he’s already grinning at you. You can’t help it, everything he does seems to make you happy beyond logic. “I’ll give you one chicken and one fiesta. The beef is fine and the cheese is not good.”

“Sounds like a plan,” He laughs, pulling out his card to pay and then opening a can and taking a big swig.

“Did that guy getting some make you crave them?” You ask, a joking glint in your eyes as you look up at him.

“Am I a misogynist if I say yes?” He replies, making you let out a laugh that was just a little too loud.

When you hand him the taquitos, he leans back onto the counter, head turned so you can see his side profile. He has the drink in one hand and the paper bag of taquitos in another. He takes a bite, a comfortable silence falling over you both. You occupy your time by looking down at your computer and mindlessly clicking around while you try to think of things to talk about. 

“How was work?” You say, deciding on that as the least risky option.

“Good,” He shrugs. “We finished a little late and traffic meant I didn’t get home till almost 7 pm.”

“Oh jeez,” You groan. “My commute is pretty easy in the morning because I go opposite the traffic.”

“I’m jealous,” He replies, smiling at you. “Do you live far from here?”

A shock of electricity shoots through your body. “Somewhat. This isn’t my local convenience store, but I’m not that far.”

Spencer nods, “This isn’t mine either.”

“What?”

He turns to look at you, eyebrows perked up like he didn’t just say something ridiculous.

“This isn’t your nearest convenience store,” You repeat slowly. When he nods, you ask, “So why do you come here?”

Spencer laughs, realizing his mistake. “The one nearest me is literally down the street, but they don’t always have these,” He answers, holding up the pineapple orange mango-flavored drink. “This store is only a few more minutes away and it always has them.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s because you buy our stock,” You joke. “I’ve literally had my boss ask about why we are selling so many more.”

“Really?” He gasps, leaning in closer. “I used to only make the walk here if the closer one was out, but four months ago I just stopped bothering.”

The fact that four months is when you started working is not lost on you. Feeling confident, you add, “What about when you get coffee? I’m sure the other one has coffee.”

“True.” He looks slightly caught off guard, eyes scanning the store before speaking, “I only come to get coffee here if I’m too lazy to make it at home and running early enough to…” He pauses for a second, the sentence closing as if it wasn’t the planned ending. Finally, he adds, “To see you.”

You hum, looking down because your face is warm and you’re at a loss for words. Luckily, he’s too nervous to look at you either. You feel tingly, knowing full well that this is a special moment that you’ll look back on if you end up dating.

“Anyways,” Spencer breaks the silence. Before he can say anything else, he yawns, mouth opening wide.

“You know you can go home, right?” You laugh. When you look down at your computer, you see it’s about half an hour later. “No one has come in and I doubt anyone will before Marie gets here.”

“No, no,” He protests. “And anyway, aren’t I making time fly?”

“I suppose,” You grin. “You are quite great company.”

Spencer flashes you a smile that makes your insides twist. You wonder if he is picking up on all this. If he can tell that you’re interested in him.

“I’m honored.”

“You should be.” You sarcastically quip. “I have high standards for the company I keep close to me.”

“Is this close?” He contemplates aloud. “I’ve never even seen you without your black polo, black pants, and nonslip shoes.”

You laugh, looking down at your clothes. “Don’t you like this fit?”

“I mean, I love it,” Spencer starts, “But I don’t know how much you’re serving day to day.”

“I serve even when I’m only going to class,” You protest. “Maybe when I’m done with finals, I’ll grace you with my out-of-work personality.”

Spencer grins, “I’d be honored.”

You’re on high alert, knowing exactly what was happening.

“You should be,” You echo, unsure of what else to say. It doesn’t matter though. You could say anything and Spencer would find you charming.

“Maybe we can go to competing stores and graffiti them,” He suggests, long since turned around so he can look at you fully.

“Pft,” You laugh. “I don’t want to get arrested with you the first time we hang out.”

“You don’t? That’s usually my go-to!”

“Well, my go-to is food. Or the arcade.”

“The arcade?” He questions. “All this time I’ve been talking about games and you’ve never mentioned that you’re also a gamer?”

“I am not!” You protest. “Definitely not compared to you. You’re a savant and I’m the fool.”

“I doubt that,” He replies, a grin never leaving his face as he leans in closer. “I say arcade so I can check out your skills.”

“Deal,” You say, leaning onto the counter so you are only a few feet away. “The arcade it is.”

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

I remember you wrote a thing where Crowley interviews Fellow for a teaching job, can we get a continuation of that? idk where Gidel would fit so yeah sorry

[Referencing this interaction!]

So tell me, do you wanna go?

Every morning was a new opportunity presenting itself in a gift-wrapped box. This morning was, perhaps, the grandest opportunity, the greatest gift, of them all.

From the moment Fellow had woken up, he had been a flurry of movement, almost as fast as the words he often spewed. Buttering toast for two (a luxury for them), packing a small bag of pencils (each of varying length), untangling the knots in Gidel's hair, tying the boy's shoelaces for him. He had also been up late redoing the stitching on his suit, ironing the wrinkles out, and searching for a matching pair of socks for Gidel. The first rule of making a good impression: dress to impress.

Even when they were out the door and rushing to the main school building, Fellow fretted. He smoothed out his shirt, redid his cravat over and over, wiped his glasses more times than he could count. (In fairness, that number still wasn't very high, but it was the sentiment that mattered.)

The imminent shadow of Night Raven College loomed, making him feel small and powerless. Here, dreams were made—and crushed.

Like his had been, once upon a time.

His mind blanked. It had run off and hid, shivering in a dark recess somewhere, wedged between doubt and despair.

He was brought back to earth by a warmth and pressure at his arm. Fellow glance down to find Gidel grasping him and offering an encouraging grin. His jacket and vest were oversized, and his tie sloppy, but he glowed with excitement.

“… You’re right, Giddie. What am I mopin’ around for? It’ll do me no good.” Fellow sighed, banishing his bad thoughts in that breath. “We should be celebrating! Today’s a big day for us. Our new beginning.”

Together, they took the brave first step into the foyer. Down the hallway and to the right, their first stop.

Again, his heart raced. Anxiety and fear surging, despite his efforts to keep them at bay.

Smile at the face of danger. Get tough when the going gets rough. It’s nothing you haven’t done before, he coaxed himself. You can do this. Show those snooty little rich kids what you’re capable of!

“Let’s go…!” Fellow bellowed, seizing Gidel by the shoulders. It’s SHOWTIME!”

They barged in, the door opening with such force that it slammed against the wall. Students startled in their seats.

“M-Myah?!” Grim snapped awake from his nap. “What’s happenin’, am I still asleep or what?!”

Beside him, the Ramshackle Prefect perked up. They waved at Fellow and Gidel, as if they had been expecting them all along, Of course—they had been the one to pass along a strong recommendation to the headmaster.

“Mornin’, teach! Mornin’, new classmate!” they chirped.

Ace groaned, rubbing a hand on the back of his neck. "Oh, you have got to be kidding me. This is the guy they hired for the new Life Skills course?”

"H-Hey, don't be rude to the new professor!" Deuce hissed at his dorm mate. “Show some respect!”

Show some respect.

Respect! That’s right, he deserved it. He was among them now—amid the elites, instructing them.

Fellow straightened, marching right up to the podium at the front of the classroom. (Gidel followed him, only to be shooed off and whispered a reminder that he belonged in a desk. He scurried to a free spot in the corner, planting his supplies down.)

“Students!” Fellow announced, rapping his fox-tipped cane on the podium. His voice, loud and proud. “Your attention please!

“Welcome to Life Skills. As the name suggests, this class will focus on practical skills that’ll serve you well in life. I’ll be your instructor. The name’s Fellow, Fellow Honest—but please, please, call me by my first name!”

Deuce’s hand instantly shot up. “S-Sir, isn’t that kind of familiarity improper?!”

“In my classroom, everyone’s an equal. Myself included,” Fellow laughed, tipping his top hat at his bewildered audience. “Let’s have fun together, shall we?”

“Wow,” Deuce murmured raptly, seriously impressed. “The new professor’s so chill.”

Gidel and Yuu clapped excitedly for him. Ace rolled his eyes.

“This is gonna be a long semester.”

[jamsterrr]

N. RIKI . . . MY BIGGEST HEADACHE: BET CHAPTER ⭑.ᐟ

ni-ki. assistant coach. tears. “ why are you so offended over a dare? ”. dickhead. annoyed. arguments. hugs and cuddles.

description. eventually after you found out about being a dare, you were crushed. you didn’t know what to do or even want to show your face. but when ni-ki refused to leave you alone, even after you made it clear you were done, what will happen?

words : 3.6k

ni-ki x female!reader

contains. ‼️ ; sap , cussing , face slap , mentions of depression , betrayal , plot twist ( let me know if i missed anything ! )

part 1: my biggest headache | part 2: mbh: bet chapter

link to my masterlist . . . !

tag list : @honey-bunnysweet , @aniasproblems , @da1e3e , @chaeugwi , @prkhoonlvr , @im-yn-suckers , @en-chantedtomeetyou — couldn’t tag everyone! hopefully y’all can find this !

here we are! the long awaited part 2 ! i hope everyone enjoys it as much as i did writing for it!

⊱ ━━━━.⋅ εïз ⋅.━━━━ ⊰

You didn't know what to feel. You were so hurt and betrayed. Being as you were basically just a joke to the whole basketball team that you put so much time and effort into. It was also the fact that your best friend was in on the "dare". You cried your eyes out that night, your tears soaking your pillow. Were you seriously just something for them to laugh about? Something for them to joke about?

Why should you even care what they thought about you in the first place? It wasn't that you cared, - who are you kidding, you cared. You didn't like being played as a joke. Why should you even be crying about it?

You heard the front door open, finally letting your body sit up, but you stayed in bed. All you wanted to do was sleep, was that so bad? Glancing over, you checked the time. It was a little past - 2 am. Good thing you didn't have school tomorrow. You heard a pair of footsteps coming up the stairs, your door slightly ajar. Heeseung poked his head into your room, his face immediately dropping with concern. "Y/N, what's wrong? Are you crying?" he spoke, stepping into your room. His clothes were changed into something comfortable; you shook your head. Not wanting to bother him with your problems after the amazing day and game he had.

Bu he wasn't giving up that easy. The male made his way into your room, his eyes softening as he looked at you. "I know something's wrong. Who do I have to beat up?" he asked seriously.

A slight smile spread across your face as you sighed and looked at him. Being thankful that you had a brother like him. But - if only he knew.

"It- It's nothing" you stuttered out, but his face knew you were hiding something from him. "Y/N." He said but you shook your head, taking your brother's hand, looking at him, tears brimming in your eyes. "It's just hormones, I'm on my period." you laughed, joking but hoping the male would take the hint that you didn't want to talk about it. Hell, you couldn't even find the words even if you wanted. You were blind about the situation. Only having one piece. Heeseung just nodded and sighed. "Maybe we could both get some sleep hm? Talk about it tomorrow maybe?" he asked and you nodded, wrapping your arms around the male, taking a deep sigh.

Hugging him always comforted you, he was your safety net. Something you needed in a time like this. "Okay." you said simply. The two of you reluctantly pulled away from the hug before he got up. "Night Y/n, see you in the morning" he said, giving you a heart shaped smile before he made his way out your door and to his room. You sighed deeply and got up, shutting the door and getting back into your bed. You pulled out your phone and went to Sunoo's contact as you saw the picture of the two of you together. They were photobooth pictures, one's the two of you adored. His hand was on your cheek, his big smile and eye smile evident. Your smile bright and hands behind his, shaped in triangles to represent fox ears.

The day brought back memories as the tears brimming in your eyes fell, falling onto your phone as you quickly wiped them away, hesitating a little as you pressed the ' block this caller ' ID. You couldn't understand why he would even participate in such a thing like that. It was horrible.

You quickly discarded your phone to the side, sniffling as you hugged your knees. Feeling a piece of your heart breaking. Why you.

Finally, the tears had stopped, and you drifted off to a deep sleep, something you needed. You didn't even hear the alarm that was sounding, a grumbling Heeseung walking to your room, poking you, shaking you. "Y/N, turn it off." the male griped as you groaned and slapped your phone, turning off the alarm.

"Thank you." He mumbled, making his way back to his room.

"Shh~" you shushed the male. Falling back asleep.

--

"I don't want to go today!" you pleaded with your older brother who was grabbing you by your foot, dragging you off the bed, your grip on your bed rails tight. Heeseung groaned. "Y/n, you can't skip school again." He emphasized, sighing as he let your foot go.

The weekend went by fast. You got your parents to let you stay home on Monday. On Tuesday you complained about your throat hurting. "Sunoo, has been asking me about you ASAP, and the boys at practice. You need to come to school." He said sternly. "Fuck them, I don't care. I don't want to go." You groaned and frowned, puffing out your cheeks.

"Okay, well. If you're not going, then I'm not going. I'm going to stay right here in your bed. With you. All day." the male said, starting to take off his shoes. "What?! no." You replied, standing up.

"Yep." "Why do you care if I go or not!" You whined and crossed your arms. "Because I know there is something you're not telling me. And I don't like it. I know you're not sick, so don't even try it. Since you won't tell me or let me at least try and let understand, then I have no choice, but you be by you" Heeseung explained as you groaned. "Fine, I'll go to stupid school."

"I'm glad you see it my way" the male smiled and put his shoes back on. "I'll be waiting." and with that, the male went downstairs, waiting on you as you got dressed, mentally trying to prepare yourself for school, hoping it would run smoothly, but just with your luck, who knew how it would go?

--

After you got dressed, Heeseung and you made it to the school with you frowning. You truly weren't ready to face whatever it was that was going on. Why were you a dare? Is the question that kept running through your mind.

"Whatever it is you're going through, you can get through it." Heeseung spoke as he shut off the car and got out, locking the doors after you exited the car. You made your way inside the school building. A wave of shock hitting your body as you stood, looking down the halls. "Just do what you need to do, and leave." you repeated to yourself as you walked down the halls, hoping to not bump into anyone as Heeseung split with you, walking down the hallway with his arm wrapped around his girlfriend's waist.

You walked to your locker, putting in the pin as you saw an envelope fall out, carefully bending down, you picked it up. All that read on it was, "Y/N, open."

You sighed, taking a deep breath, deciding not to entertain whatever messed up game they were playing with you. You were the main character, right? So, this should be how you want your game to go. Not theirs.

Shutting the locker, you were met with a familiar face. The bright smile of your ex best friend to you, Sunoo. "Oh my god Y/N, why haven't you been at school? I've been worried sick, and you haven't been answering any of my messages, what's going on?"

Just hearing his voice that used to bring you calmness, made you boil with anger. You started to speak as you looked at him, a bit of anger and heartbreak evident in your eyes. He gently placed his hands on your shoulder and looked at you. "You can tell me anything, What's wrong. You look hurt..." he mumbled as you scoffed.

You clenched the envelop tightly that you held in your hand, glaring at him. "Are you really going to sit in my face and look at me like that? Like I'm some kind of joke. I know what you did Sunoo." You spoke coldly as he widened his eyes. You could tell there was a hint of guilt evident as you scoffed. "Wh-what are you talking about?" the male stuttered and you rolled your eyes, tears brimming in them. "You made a bet. A stupid dare, on your best friend. How could you?!" you asked the male, hurt in your eyes as you felt a pang of heartache in your chest.

Sunoo looked at you and shook his head. "No, Y/N please, I promise it wasn't like that. I didn't know what i was betting on or getting into." He spoke, reaching out and taking your hands, brushing his thumb against your knuckles. You wanted so badly to pull your hands away. "What do you mean?" you asked curiously, not sure if you should trust anything he was saying to you. Sunoo sighed and started speaking...

( Sunoo's POV )

The male walked down the beautiful brick walkway of the campus, a soft " wave to earth " song playing his headphones as he was going to meet you, spotting Sunghoon, Jake, Jungwon, Ni-ki and Nicholas sitting by the waterfall, he stopped lightly as his eyes bounced from each boy who seemed to be having a grand time. "Ew." he said in his mind, a slightly judgmental look.

Their laughter growing louder and louder, making the male grow more annoyed. He knew he didn't have to stand there and listen, but something about the situation wasn't right. Sunoo sighed before attempting to walk away but was soon called over once he was spotted by Sunghoon, a sly smile coming from the male's lips. Sunoo sighed before he crossed his eyes and made his way over to the males, removing one side of the headphone as he stared down at Sunghoon.

Sunghoon looked at the male and smiled. "We gave Ni-ki a dare, want to put a bet in?" he asked with a coy smile. "No." Sunoo groaned and looked at the male. Sunghoon pouted his lips out before grabbing Sunoo's hand. "Why not. It'll be fun." Sunghoon spoke. "What's the stupid dare? And why do you want me to bet on it so bad?" Sunoo asked, him gently pulling his hand away. "We can't say." Ni-ki smiled and Sunoo laughed, scoffing. "Then why should I put money in?".

"Because I'll go on a date with you Sunghoon smiled and stood up, towering over the slightly shorter male. Sunoo could feel his cheeks heating up as he cleared his throat. "Fine.. What's the starting bid?" Sunoo asked and Sunghoon smirked. Nicholas spoke. "$70, for yes. $80, for no". Sunoo sighed and took out his phone, sending Ni-ki $70. "I hope whatever you're betting on. You all lose." Sunoo glared and stomped off.

He looked at you with soft eyes, a bit of pleading in them. “Please believe me, I would never ever hurt you on purpose with something like that.” He spoke, his eyes searching your face for a possible answer. “It was stupid for you to bet on something you didn’t even know about.” You frown, your voice breaking. A but of relief from your shoulders. Feeling bad for even doubting Sunoo in the first place. Looking at him as tears escaped your eyes. Sunoo’s thumb gently wiped the tears that escaped, pulling you in for a close hug. You wrapped your arms around him, smiling and sniffling a little. You were relieved that your bestfriend didn’t participate in the bet on purpose. Does it make what he did right? No. But is this a start to forgiveness? Yes.

The two of you separated from the hug. A but of silence between the two, the only noise being heard was the students walking through the hallways; talking — laughing — whining and their footsteps. The bell rung for you two to get to class. "Sunoo wait." You grabbed his hand as he made his way to his class. "What's up Y/N?" The male asked.

"I need you to tell Ni-ki to go to the locker room at the end of the day. Say anything to get him there." You said, your eyes filled with determination as Sunoo nodded, a small smile on his face. "Anything for you. But what are you going to do?" the male asked, and you hummed "You'll see." Is all you said before making your way to your class, a sinister smile appearing on your face.

--

Sunoo hummed as he sat in class, his eyes darting over to Ni-ki and Jungwon who actually seemed to be focused on classwork and the task they were assigned at hand. Sunoo hummed and got up, taking a seat next to the two. "Hey Ni-ki?" he started as Ni-ki smiled and looked over at him, humming in response. "Can you meet me behind the bleachers afterschool?" Sunoo asked. "Oh Sunoo, and here I thought you were interested in Sunghoon all along" the male teased, Jungwon snickering. "Trust me, it's not like that" Sunoo said rolling his eyes.

"I'm serious. I need to talk to you about something serious." Sunoo lied. The male laughed and nodded. "Okay fine, I'll be there" He spoke. Sunoo grinned and made his way back to his original seat, going back to focusing on his work with a smirk. "What do you think he wants?" Jungwon asked and Ni-ki just shrugged. "Probably not something serious, maybe he just wants to play with me." He said, scribbling on his paper.

"Are you gonna go?" Jungwon hummed, looking over at the males scribbling. Ni-ki nodded. "Yeah, why not."

--

You were anxious, you couldn't wait for the end of the day. It was time to get the payback you needed, to let Ni-ki know that you weren't the one to be played with. Like before. You are the main character of your story. Not the other way around.

Staring at the clock you wished the time could go by faster and before you knew it. It was 2:15. The final bell of the day sounded as you headed to your locker. Once you opened it, the envelope that you had earlier fell out as you picked it up, opening it as you shoved your bag into the locker, taking a deep sigh before opening the envelope. Inside was a picture of you and Ni-ki sharing a kiss in the car, but the photo was from outside the car, near a bush by your house. "Sick." You thought to yourself. A small frown and anger boiling over you. "God."

Ni-ki made his way to the bleachers, ducking as he stood under them. Waiting for Sunoo. "Hey." You said sternly, looking at the male. Ni-ki wouldn't be lying if he said he was shocked to see you. "Oh, hey Y/N" he spoke with the same cold tone that you gave him. You scoffed. The nerve of this dude.

"What do you want?" The male asked, staring down at you. You looked up at him. Keeping your face on. There was no way you were letting this dude belittle you. Not after the embarrassment he put you through. Though it wasn't spread throughput the school. You just couldn't get over the fact that you were a bet. Why? "What was your bet between you and your friends?" You asked boldly.

"Bet?" He questioned, laughing a little. "What bet?"

You raised your eyebrow. Was this dickhead seriously acting like he didn't know?

"Ni-ki, no offense. But don't fucking play with me.": You groaned. Honestly sick of him and his attitude.

“Look Ni-ki! I don’t have time for your games.” You snapped, balling your fist. “You’ve been such a dick to me ever since I’ve became the assistant coach. What the fuck is your problem?!” You shouldn’t, stepping closer. The male furrowed his brows, glaring down at you. “Calm your attitude Y/N. You’re getting mad at the wrong guy” he growled at you as you swung your hand back, slapping the male, your hand flying to your mouth.

You expected for the male to hit you back, maybe even push you down but he just looked at you with a sinister smile. Rubbing his cheek slightly. “Damn, you have a nice tight hook there.” He smiled and gently backed you against the back wall. Pinning you against it as he leaned down, whispering in your ear, his hot breathe pushing against it. “Want to know what happened?”

Even though you were pissed, you couldn’t stop how your body shuddered as the male leaned over you, whispering into your ear.

‘I hate attractive people’ you thought as you pushed the males chest. It sadly was one of your weaknesses. “What happened..?” You asked, standing up straight and straightening your posture.

Ni-ki began to speak humming softly as he leaned against the rail.

--

The male walked into the empty classroom, removing one of his headphone, looking up at the male. “What’s this about? Thought practice wasn’t until Thursday?” Ni-ki spoke, twiddling the headphone in-between his fingers.

“Yeah, I know I said that. But I need you and the guys to do something for me. Can you?” The male spoke and Ni-ki hummed. “Yeah sure.” He spoke, looking at the back of the males head. “What is it?” Ni-ki asked curiously, sitting on a desk.”

“You have something against Y/N?” The male asked and Ni-ki shook his head, laughing a little. “Nah. She’s actually pretty cute. When she doesn’t look like you.” Ni-ki hummed and spread his legs slightly. “What is it you want me to do hyung?”

“I need you to record you kissing Y/n, I bet you $300 you couldn’t get her to kiss you.” The male spoke. Ni-ki laughed. “Are you serious??” The male nodded. “Get the others to bet in.”

“Oh this is going to be the easiest $300 dollars of my life. Maybe even more. The others are sometimes idiots.” Ni-ki hummed and stood up. “But why?”

“Let’s just see, I like to see her rattled up. Freshman scare yeah?” He chuckled and looked at the male. Ni-ki laughed and nodded. “Damn, that’s cruel. She’s gonna hate you. But okay I got you.” Ni-ki hummed as he turned around, beginning to walk out before the voice told him to stop.

“Hm?” Ni-ki turned around and looked at him. “Get Sunoo to bet too.” Ni-ki just shook his head and laughed. “Get ready to pay me my money.” And with that, he walked out of the room and towards the water fountain where he met up with a Nicholas, Jungwon, Jake, Sunghoon and Jay.

“You won’t believe what hyung just asked me to do” he said, placing his bookbag down and hanging his headphones around his neck. “What?” Jake asked, popping a couple of shrimp chips into his mouth.

“He wants me to get a video or picture of me kissing Y/N.” He laughed. “What?! There’s no way she’ll do it. She can’t stand you” Sunghoon laughed. “Yeah, you are a bit of a jerk to her” Jungwon laughed with Sunghoon and hummed. “She will! Put in your bets now.” Ni-ki spoke as the boys laughed. “Okay, sure.” Sunghoon said. “I’ll bet $70 she doesn’t kiss you.” Sunghoon smiled. “I bet $100 she does kiss him!” Jake raised the bets. Soon the boys put in their bets. Sunghoon spotting a staring Sunoo and bringing him over. Soon the bet was over $600 dollars, split into Ni-ki not getting kisses by Y/N, the others agreeing she would.

--

Such an innocent bet, disregarding your feelings about the whole thing.

You looked at him, still confused slightly. Your mouth agape. A bunch of assholes.

Ni-ki smiled. “Think with that pretty brain of yours..” ’can you ride home with Ni-ki? I won’t be home until later’. It echoed in your head. Suddenly something made it all clear, the bounce of a basketball into the gym as you looked at Ni-ki one last time, before seeing who it was. A swish was heard and it clicked. It was Heeseung.

That’s why he wanted you to ride with Ni-ki home that night. That’s why he was so adamant on getting you to school. *He was the first person to introduce you to Ni-ki. Your brother was the lead person on this bet.

You felt hurt and betrayed. What the hell was wrong with them.

He. Was your biggest headache.

You gritted your teeth before storming out of the gym. Passing by his girlfriend.

Heeseung’s girlfriend came to him and smiled, gently kissing his cheek. “Can I talk to you?” She spoke quietly before the male smiled and tossed the basketball to Ni-ki. She led him to the bleachers and smiled, humming before pressing a kiss to his lips, deepening it. The male wrapped his arms around her waist as the two pulled away.

The woman drew her hand back and slapped Heeseung. “We’re fucking over! I saw you kiss that other girl earlier. You cheater!” You said, tears in her eyes before pushing the male. Ni-ki winced as he witnessed the slap. A shocked Heeseung widening his eyes.

“Wh-what are you talking about?!?” He spoke as he watched his girlfriend storm out the gym. Her tears falling down.

--

You smiled as you hugged the woman, “oh my god! You did so amazing Hina!” You shouted.

“Yeah, maybe I should become an actor?” She laughed. You pulled out the $600 dollars you swiped from Ni-ki and divided it between you, Sunoo and Hina in three ways. The three of you high fived and grinned.

“Thought they could get over on it. We did it!” You shouted, the three of you hugging.

Now.

You were THEIR biggest headache.

[nixiefics]

Possess - Part 2

Pairing: Robb Stark X Reader

Warnings: Smut, posessive Robb, p in v sex, oral (female receiving), rough sex, dominant Robb,

You awaken slowly, the warmth of the fur blankets cocooning you in their luxurious softness. The richness of the various pelts - wolf, bear, and fox - creates a patchwork of textures and hues, a testament to the King's power and the harsh beauty of the North. You shift slightly, feeling the gentle rise and fall of the man beside you. His presence, a source of both comfort and desire, has become a familiar anchor in your life.

Blinking the sleep from your eyes, you take in the soft glow of dawn filtering through the canvas of the tent. The air is cool, but the thick furs ward off the chill, keeping you nestled in warmth. You turn your head to look at him. Even in sleep, his features are strong, etched with a fierceness that speaks of battles won and enemies vanquished. Yet, there is a softness there, a vulnerability that only you are privileged to witness.

The King in the North stirs, his arm instinctively wrapping around you, pulling you closer. His eyes flutter open, and for a moment, the stern ruler is replaced by the man who has shared your bed and heart for over two months. His smile is rare, but you’ve grown accustomed to the way his eyes soften when they meet yours.

“Good morning, my healer,” he murmurs, his voice rough with sleep but tender.

“Good morning, my King” you reply, your fingers tracing the lines of his face.

You sit up slowly, careful not to disturb the peace that lingers in the tent. The responsibilities of the day loom ahead, but for now, you allow yourself a moment of tranquillity. Robb's eyes follow you as you move, a silent appreciation in his gaze. The cool air brushes against your skin, a stark contrast to the warmth of the furs.

“I wish you didn’t have to go,” he says, his voice low. It’s a sentiment he’s expressed many times, but always with an understanding of your duty.

"You made a promise," you kiss his lips slowly. "I could heal if Grey Wind was with me - and he is always with me."

Robb's expression softens further, a mixture of admiration and reluctance in his eyes. He reaches out, his hand warm against your cool skin. “I know,” he says quietly, “and I respect that. But that doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

You smile, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead. “And I appreciate it,” you reply. “But duty calls.”

With a sigh, Robb releases you, and you rise from the bed, the furs slipping away to reveal the cool air of the tent. You wrap yourself in your robe, its familiar weight and texture grounding you as you move towards the small basin of water to wash. The briskness of the water against your face is invigorating, helping to chase away the last remnants of sleep.

You can feel Robb’s gaze on you as you prepare for the day, a silent presence that brings both comfort and a twinge of sadness. The bond you share is deep, forged in the crucible of war and the shared solace of your nights together.

As you finish your morning routine, you turn back to Robb, who is now sitting up, the fur blankets pooled around his waist. His eyes are serious, but there’s a warmth there that reassures you. “Be safe today,” he says, a command and a plea intertwined in his words.

“I always am,” you reply, your voice steady. You cross the tent to where he sits, placing a hand on his cheek. “And you, my King, must do the same.”

He nods, capturing your hand in his and pressing a kiss to your palm. “I will,” he promises. “For you.”

With a final, lingering look, you step out of the tent and into the camp. The crisp morning air greets you, carrying the sounds of activity and the faint tang of smoke from the nearby fires. The camp is already bustling, soldiers preparing for the day, the hum of conversation and the clang of metal creating a familiar symphony.

You make your way to the healer’s tent, a sense of purpose settling over you. The wounded need you, and in your role, you find a different kind of fulfilment. The demands are constant, the wounds severe, but your skill and compassion are unwavering. You tend to each soldier with care, knowing that every life you save is a victory in its own right.

As the day progresses, your thoughts occasionally drift back to Robb. His strength, his vulnerability, the way he looks at you as if you are his anchor in this turbulent world. You find solace in those memories, drawing strength from them as you work.

By the time the sun begins to set, you are exhausted but content. You’ve done your duty, fulfilled your promise. As you make your way back to the tent you share with Robb, a sense of anticipation builds within you. The days are long, but the nights—those precious hours in his arms—make it all worthwhile.

Entering the tent, you find it empty. Robb has not yet returned from his duties. The space feels larger, quieter without him, but you know he will be back soon. Deciding to prepare for his return, you call for a bath to be brought. The attendants are quick, and soon a large wooden tub is set up in the corner of the tent.

You instruct them to fill it with hot water and add healing oils - lavender for relaxation, eucalyptus for its invigorating scent, and a touch of chamomile to soothe. The steam rises, carrying the fragrant mix of oils, creating a calming atmosphere that envelops the tent. You test the water with your hand, ensuring it’s the perfect temperature.

As you wait for Robb, you take a moment to change out of your healer’s robes, slipping into a simple but elegant nightgown. The soft fabric is a welcome change from the utilitarian garments you’ve worn throughout the day. You let your hair down, running a comb through it to ease the tangles, the simple act grounding you after a long day.

The bath is ready, the water shimmering invitingly. You light a few candles, their warm glow casting gentle shadows on the tent walls. The scent of the oils mingles with the earthy aroma of the furs, creating a cocoon of warmth and tranquillity.

Finally, you hear the faint sounds of footsteps outside the tent. Robb enters, looking weary but pleased to see you. His eyes light up at the sight of the prepared bath, and a grateful smile spreads across his face. “You always know exactly what I need,” he says, his voice filled with affection.

“I thought you might appreciate a bit of relaxation after today,” you reply, stepping towards him. You reach up, your hands moving to unfasten the clasps of his cloak and armour. He stands still, allowing you to help him out of the heavy layers, his eyes never leaving yours.

As Robb steps into the bath, you can’t help but admire his form. His body is a testament to the life he leads - a life of battle and leadership. Broad shoulders taper down to a powerful, muscular chest. Scars, mementos of past battles, mark his skin, each one telling a story of bravery and survival. His arms are strong, corded with muscle from wielding a sword and shield, yet there’s a gentleness in his touch that belies his warrior exterior.

His abdomen is defined, the result of countless hours of training and fighting. The taut muscles ripple as he moves, a display of raw strength and vitality. His legs are equally powerful, supporting his commanding presence both on and off the battlefield.

Your thoughts become heated as you take in every detail - the way the water clings to his skin, the way the healing oils create a sheen that catches the light. His hair, damp with sweat and now water, falls in dark waves around his face, framing his striking features. His eyes, intense yet tender, lock onto yours as you tend to him, and you see in them a depth of feeling that transcends words.

You love the sight of his naked body, the way it exudes strength and masculinity. Memories of how that body pleases you flood your mind - the way his muscles flex as he holds you close, the heat of his skin against yours, the undeniable passion that ignites between you whenever he touches you. A flush rises to your cheeks as you recall the nights spent wrapped in his arms, his body a source of both pleasure and comfort.

Robb’s body is a warrior’s body, sculpted by conflict and honed by duty. Yet, in this moment, as he relaxes into the warmth of the bath you’ve prepared, he is simply a man - your man - seeking solace and comfort in your presence. And as you care for him, washing away the weariness of the day, you are reminded of the bond you share, a bond that goes beyond the physical, rooted in love and mutual respect. The anticipation of feeling his embrace again, of losing yourself in the passion you share, sends a shiver of desire through you.

His voice breaks the silence, pulling you from your reverie. “Thank you,” he says quietly, reaching for your hand. “For everything.”

“Always,” you reply, your voice soft and filled with affection. "I am yours, Robb."

His eyes darken and you sense the shift in him immediately. Robb loves hearing you say the words - it always awakened a primal part of him.

"That's right, my darling." He grins, wide enough to show the sharp incisors he loves to nibble at you with, and leans forward to cup your chin. "All mine."

Robb stands, pulling you up with him effortlessly. The water cascades off his body, and he steps out of the tub, each movement powerful and purposeful. He is a glorious sight - dripping wet, muscles glistening in the candlelight, and every inch of him exuding a raw, feral intensity that makes your pulse race.

Robb’s other hand grips your waist, pulling you closer, and you can feel the strength of his need in the way his fingers dig into your skin. Your hands find his shoulders, clutching at his damp skin as you try to anchor yourself. The kiss is heated, spine-tingling, and utterly consuming. His lips move against yours with a fervour that leaves you panting, your mind a whirlwind of sensation.

He deepens the kiss, his tongue parting your lips, exploring with a hunger that sends waves of heat through your body. The taste of him is intoxicating, a blend of warmth and passion that you can’t get enough of. You respond eagerly, matching his intensity, the kiss turning sloppy and heated as the world outside the tent fades away.

His hand moves from your waist to the small of your back, pressing you against him, the heat of his body searing through the thin fabric of your nightgown. You can feel the hard planes of his chest, the steady thrum of his heartbeat matching your own frantic pace. Every nerve ending is alight with sensation, your body arching into his touch as his kiss leaves you breathless and wanting more.

Robb breaks the kiss for a moment, his breath ragged and his eyes dark with desire. “I need you,” he murmurs against your lips, the desperation in his voice echoing your own feelings.

“Then take me,” you whisper back, your voice trembling with anticipation and need.

With a growl of approval, he captures your lips again, the kiss even more urgent, more demanding than before. His dominance is clear in every touch, every movement, as he claims you with a passion that leaves you reeling.

Your eyes trail down his form, taking in the way the water clings to his skin, accentuating every ridge and contour of his chiselled physique. His hair, wet and tousled, frames his face, giving him an almost wild look. The sight of him like this - dominant, commanding, and so achingly beautiful - sends a thrill of desire through you.

He pulls you close, the heat of his body contrasting sharply with the cool air of the tent. The sensation of his damp skin against yours is electrifying, and you can’t help but shiver. His lips find yours again, the kiss deep and consuming, his hands roaming over your back, pulling you even closer.

Robb’s need is palpable, his desperation mirrored in the way he devours your mouth, each kiss more fervent than the last. You can feel the hard planes of his body pressed against you, the strength in his grip as he holds you as if he might never let go.

Your hands explore his body, tracing the lines of his muscles, feeling the powerful beat of his heart beneath your palm. His skin is hot, the water droplets cooling quickly, and you marvel at the sheer physicality of him - so strong, so alive.

“Gods, you’re beautiful,” you breathe against his lips, your voice a mix of awe and desire.

He responds with a low growl, his eyes burning with intensity as he looks at you. “You drive me wild,” he murmurs, his voice rough with need.

Robb’s hands move to your hips, lifting you effortlessly. You wrap your legs around his waist, your arms around his neck, and he carries you towards the bed of furs. Every step he takes, every movement, is filled with a primal urgency that sets your skin aflame.

As he lowers you onto the furs, his body covering yours, you feel a rush of anticipation. His kisses trail down your neck, leaving a trail of fire in their wake, and you arch into his touch, wanting, needing more. The world outside the tent is forgotten, and in this moment, there is only the two of you, lost in a sea of desire and passion that threatens to consume you both.

"Such a needy little thing, aren't you?" Robb's mouth trails over your shoulder, pushing the nightgown away with his nose. "So fucking needy for me."

"Yes," you pant, head lolling to the side as his tongue traces an invisible line down your shoulder and swirling around your exposed nipple. "Gods, yes. All for you."

It's like a switch flips and Robb rights himself slightly, one hand taking both of yours. "Keep them there."

His voice sends a bolt of pleasure to your core, and you swallow thickly, watching his hands dip to your thighs and push the fabric of your nightshift up to your hips.

You jump slightly as Robb's hands cup your thighs roughly, parting them and bringing his lips to the sensitive skin on the inside, trailing them up slowly, teasingly, to place an open-mouthed kiss to your soaked core.

"My pretty little Queen has the most beautiful cunt in the world - and it's mine." he growls against you as his tongue swipes through your slick folds and he groans low at the taste which sends a deep thrum of want through your core. It's all too much and yet so little at the same time.

"Fuck, darling…"

You can feel your thighs shaking against his grip as he keeps them parted for him. It halts every thought in your mind, back arching off the bed as he delves deeper, his tongue parting your folds to fuck you with the wet muscle repeatedly. It feels like he's trying to discover places inside you that you never knew existed. The angle has your lips parted with hurried breaths, head thrown back against the bed, struggling to keep still with the way his nose moves side to side against your aching clit.

"Robb…" you whine loudly, forcing yourself to grab the furs below you to keep your hands where he told you to. It feels like as soon as the pressure begins to build in your belly, he comes away, his lips glistening with your slick, causing your face to heat up in embarrassment. His eyes gleam with mischief.

"What's wrong, darling, hm?" he's massaging the flesh of your thighs, watching your core clench around nothing. "Am I not a giving King? Would you like more, my sweet pet?"

Before you can even open your mouth to respond, he plunges two fingers knuckle-deep inside you, instantly curled up trying to find that sweet spot inside. Your thighs shut around his hand, trapping him there as a slew of desperate moans fill the silence in the tent, as well as the wet smack of his hand as he fucks you with his fingers.

"Oh Robb!" you're sure that the entire camp can hear you now but you do not care. "Robb, please, fuck!"

He grins and another finger joins the first two, pounding in and out of you with such lewd sounds, it makes the prudish part of your soul cringe. No doubt, you have truly given up the faith now.

He finds that toe-curling spot with infuriating accuracy, aided by the thickness and length of his fingers, stretching your pussy as he watches them disappear, covered in your arousal.

Your back arches impossibly, thighs squeezed tight. And he smirks in victory. "There it is…"

All logic, reality, everything that makes up the known world disappears. All you're able to focus on is Robb. The pleasure he is giving you. His words. It's all just too much.

The coil in your belly threatens to snap at any moment, the pads of his fingers connecting with your pleasure spot mercilessly. So much you can feel your slick soak his hand and the insides of your thighs.

And just like that.

It's gone.

You scream in frustration and whip your head to look at him, as he kneels between your legs, outright moaning as he swipes his digits through his lips into his mouth. Tasting you.

Your clit throbs at the action, as well as the fact he's enjoying it so much. Feeling your face flushed and heat bathing your skin.

"You look so fucking perfect, darling." he says, hand coming to stroke himself to full hardness. The motion has you captivated, and inadvertently makes your thighs press together.

Robb is large and curved slightly to the left, and as he strokes himself, his thumb swiping whatever precum comes out his weeping pink tip all over his cockhead, sighing softly at the relief of it. It's the thickness that you enjoy most, filling you so well that you can't remember your own name.

"Fuck me." You challenge, "Fuck me like I'll never be anyone else's again."

He smirks again, laughing lowly. "You won’t, pet. Not while I have strength in my bones - I would smite anyone who even had a thought of taking you from me."

He leans down, his tongue darting out to tease the skin around your nipple, tongue swirling against it. Robb pays special attention, lapping at it like a man starved, humming and pleased at the reaction he gets when he grazes his teeth over it. He pulls off with a gentle pop, kissing the valley of your breasts, his cock hanging heavily against your thigh. So close, and yet it still feels so far away.

"Say you're mine." he says, tapping his cockhead against your clit a few times sending sparks of pleasure up your spine. "I'd like the whole of Westeros to know who you belong to. Understood?"

You nod, dizzy from just how much he's teasing you.

"Yes, my King." you pant, cupping your own breast in desperation. "I am yours. Yours, always yours!"

He laughs through his nose and your mouth drops open when he pushes into you, splitting you open on his thick cock, slowly working his way inside before he bottoms out, stilling for a moment for you to adjust but also for him to catch his breath. He shudders against your neck, his stomach flexing and fists tightened either side of your head.

"Fuck, pet, you're so tight… can… feel you squeezing me…" he moans softly against your ear, pushing himself as far inside you as he can possibly go. It has your eyes fluttering shut as his length tucks against that sweet spot, filling you so perfectly, the walls of your pussy stretching deliciously to take him.

"Robb," you mewl as he shallowly fucks himself into you a few times, craving friction, craving what glimpse you saw of him earlier, "Robb… please… more, I need more."

Resting on his forearms, one hand ventures to your thigh to spread you further apart as he pulls almost all the way out.

"Seeing as you asked so nicely."

All air seems to be stolen out of your lungs and replaced with warming bliss as Robb slams back into you, his hips immediately pressing with a loud smack against you as he thrusts ceaselessly, holding both of your thighs in his palms.

With every harsh push inside, a soft, moan-like breath slips from your lips. Gods, you love it. Every time with Robb feels like the first time and the last time and it's so fucking perfect. Robb's thumb begins to deftly gather your arousal and circle around your clit, setting every nerve alight.

"Louder," He punctuates his demand with a particularly harsh thrust, your arousal sounding off the tent walls in an echo. "I want all my men to know to keep away from my little pet."

Whether you want to or not, your lips part more to let your sounds of pleasure fill the room, the ceaseless sounds of your fucking alongside it. Your hands fist the bedsheets and Robb growls appreciatively watching your breasts and body move with every motion.

He rewards you by increasing the speed of his motions, practically fucking you into the furs. His smug, cocksure smirk drops, and his jaw slackens, his eyes hooded to look down at you with reverence.

"Fuck- darling, I can feel you, you're going to cum for me aren't you-" he moans, his hips never letting up their pace, "fuck-feels… so good."

"Robb-" you moan softly, turning your head, closing your eyes, feeling all exposed to him when he looks at you like that. The pressure in your gut is absolutely set to explode, and you feel that coil tighten impossibly.

Your throat tightens as Robb leans down, his hips hitting the flesh of your thighs as he continues to piston his cock inside you, the chain around his neck dangling above you.

You feel him grab your face roughly, turning you to face him, your eyes slightly hooded with pleasure but looking right at him. It's so intimate, it makes your skin feel like it's on fire. His expression is serious. "Look at me when I make you cum."

Your hand clamps around his wrist, guiding him to your neck, and his jaw slackens again when he realises what you want. His fingers wrap around your neck, palm against your windpipe, and he just holds you there, feeling your pulse fluttering against his touch.

All you're able to utter before falling off the edge of your pleasure is a small, "Fuck-"

Blinding white pleasure courses through your veins, your heart hammering in your chest, feeling every single thing Robb is doing but ten times more sensitive. Being put on edge twice before certainly didn't help. Every thrust inside, brushing against your sweet spot, the way his thumb continues to press circles against your bud, has your orgasm extended in a long drawn-out shattered moan.

Robb buries his head into your neck, his arms enveloped around you, letting your bud finally have a reprieve. Your thighs begin to shake as Robb fucks you through it, overstimulation rocking through your entire body with the incessant push of his length against your sweet spot.

"It's alright, darling, I've got you. I'm here." he whispers, his own tone strained. You can't help but sigh fondly at his words.

Robb feels you tighten impossibly around him one last time before he stills, hot ropes of his cum painting your walls and leaving an unmistakable warmth at the deepest parts of your core. He says nothing, but moans helplessly against your neck and you feel his whole body shudder through your hold on his shoulders.

He fucks you shallowly, aching for the last moments of friction just as your orgasm subsides, replaced with a manageable dull thrum, practically able to feel your own heartbeat, and his with his presence inside you. The drag of his cock through your sensitive walls has breathless pants spilling from your mouth.

The silence stretches as Robb stills, his cock softening within you.

You don't have time to consider what he's thinking, as he presses a chaste kiss to your jaw. "All mine."

You whimper and tuck your face into the scruff in his neck. "Yes, my King, all yours."

[oonajaeadira]

That Awoooo Inside You, Pt. 2

Fandom: The Wild Robot / Fink the Fox

Pairing: Fink <3s OFC fox Farrah

Rating: G all the way, don’t worry. This is keeping in the world and disgustingly wholesome. Prolly too clean for tumbles 😆

Warnings: None. It’s for cuteness and for heart.

Summary: After the events of The Wild Robot, a new resident joins the island. She’s a little withdrawn and Fink finds out why.

A/N: This chapter is mainly for @brandylyn because it means so much to me that she wants to read a simple story about a little yearning fox.

PART 1

For the past many mornings Fink had woken to an empty hut, the little heap of leaves near the door where Farrah preferred to sleep flattened and empty. As much as he knew he could just track her by scent, it wasn’t necessary anymore. He knew where she was.

And his heart sank a little. 

He’d been hoping for the day when he’d wake to find her still sleeping, at peace, or the night where she’d fall asleep before him, comfortable in her new home. But her ears always remained alert, feigning sleep into the night, and she was gone by first light.

Not that she wouldn’t come back to join him for meals or to play fast-as-the-wind with the possum kids. But he supposed she went to the cove in the morning for the same reason she slept near the door.

Hoping to catch a whiff of home.

There’d been two full moons since Farrah came to the island and she adjusted fast to their strange way of life. She wasn’t as hard driven by hunger as some of the other animals and gained from their talks that was because food had been more scarce where she was from and she was patient when it came to waiting for meals. Fish and shellfish had already been a big part of her diet. 

So she must have come from another island…but Fink couldn’t be sure. Anytime he’d ask more about it, she’d change the subject or go quiet. And she was very very good at being quiet. Probably had to learn that with fur like hers. It’s a wonder she made it to maturity without proper camouflage. Silence and speed would be her only options.

Except when she laughed. She laughed loud and high, almost a cry when she was really going. Farrah was easy to amuse and he made sure to do so whenever he had the chance. He wanted to see her happy and settled here. With him.

And he just liked to hear her laugh. Nobody laughed at his jokes like she did.

“That is the look of a lovelorn fox,” Paddler dryly declared one day, turning away to scrape away at a massive trunk with his crooked incisors. Fink had just cracked a joke at a squirrel’s expense–and not a clever one either, something about the size of nuts–and Farrah had laughed before bounding off after a butterfly. The beaver’s remark made Fink realize that he was wearing a dopey grin and he shook it off, but not before Paddler added, “Be direct. Build her a dam to show how you feel.”

“I’m not going to give her a dam.”

“But I’m telling you, fine fellow. We may be swimming among the trees as a pike in the waters of the river, yet the ladies still love a good bit of worked wood. You have that home–a good design, said because, as you will remember it is mine–but a little riverside palace of her own? Eh? What a treat.”

Fink rolled his eyes, playing cavalier. “It’s not like that. We’re–” over in the near clearing, Farrah’s fur sparkled white in the sinking sun, her head tilting side to side as she watched two butterflies dancing, trying to pick up on their whispers, quiet and still….and beautiful. “--friends.”

“Ha!” Paddler choked on a laugh. “You fool no one, sir. Just give her a treasure and be done with it. I’m telling you a dam always does the job, but I suppose you must do as your ilk do.” 

“Is that why there's no Mrs. Paddler?”

“Oh ho! I have had my salacious share of affairs, I assure you. My dams are well-given and wide spread. I am focusing on other projects at the moment,” he boasted with a grand gesture towards his gnarled tree, and turned back to his gnawing.

But Fink hadn’t let the beaver’s advice sift completely to the background and after a particularly good day of digging holes for grubs and laying in the sun-warmed grass, it was Farrah herself that completed the thought.

“Okay. You get to take one feature from any other animal and add it to your own. What are you stealing?” Fink rolled on his back, belly to the sun, black paws bent and hanging lazily.

“Uhhhhh,” she sighed. “Mayyyyybe racoon paws?”

He wrinkled his nose in disgust. “Ugh. Really? You’d lose your ability to run fast.”

“Yeah, but where am I gonna run here?” she smiled, teasing, and his tail twitched hopefully. “And I bet they’re useful for arranging bedding and…holding fish…and…oh! I bet urchins would be so much easier to crack open, no more getting spines in my jowls…”

“Wait!” He flipped to his stomach then, his claws digging in the dirt, eager to run, eager to share the idea that had just come to him, ready to bound and yip but controlling himself–she was skittish if he was too bouncy–”You like urchins??”

“Of course. Do they live here? I’ve never found any.”

“Come on. I gotta show you something,” and he took off running with the breeze at his back, which carried the information that she was following and keeping up with him as he made his way through the trees and down the sloping landscape to the shore. 

Running straight for the goose flats, he turned abruptly at the shoreline and went crashing though some bushes until they came to a bluff wall. But instead of coming to a halt, Fink took a leap, knowing which ledges were wide enough to hold him, and which led out to the sea. From there, he was able to round the corner to a small cove. With the tide out, it was a completely isolated beach, not even a sand bird or seagull.

“Welcome to the northern most point of the island,” he explained with a sweep of the paw. “When I don’t wanna dig clams to a soundtrack of honks, I come out here. The tide leaves little treats too. Cockles, a dead fish, sometimes an eel. Sometimes though–” he scanned the stretch of beach, his heart skipping at the sight of a dark little blob, “--there! Urchin!”

Dashing over, he sniffed at it and, finding it still fresh, held it down with one paw and expertly cracked its underside open with his teeth. Then he sat back high and proper, very proud of himself, and offered the feast to her with a flourish. “Madame.” Surely this would be it. This cove was his little secret, his treasure to give her. And serving up delicacies with humor? He just wanted to make her smile…

But Farrah had stopped nearby, distracted, her strange eyes–one light, one dark–searching the sea, her nose activated, taking in the air.

“Uh…Farrah?” Snapping to, she closed the distance, and Fink cocked his head. “Everything okay?”

“Oh, of course. I just caught a whiff of–” she fought off a glance to the sea. “It doesn’t matter. Oh wow! The urchins are huge here!”

“Yeah,” he chuckled nervously. “It’s a specialty here. You’re gonna love the recipe. This one’s for you. Dig in.” As she did, Fink turned fully toward the water and scanned the horizon, trying to see what had caught her attention but found no scents or sights out of the ordinary. “This place is a little secret of mine, but you’re welcome to it anytime.”

“It’s nice here. Quiet.” She licked her jowls, taking in the last morsels of the delicacy. He still hadn’t turned from the sea and just as he meant to ask what had pulled her attention, she surprised him by coming to sit beside him, not just near him, but right beside him, shoulder to shoulder, flank to flank. “Thank you.”

Success. He sat still, paralyzed, trying to keep his heartbeat from racing, his tail from twitching. She liked his gift, she liked his shared treasure, he could feel his paws wanting to happy tap in the sand and the springs of his hips wanting to leap in triumph.

But still he sat. Because she had finally come closer and he knew even a twitch would send her just out of reach again, no matter how badly he wanted to curl his tail around her–not only to warm her but to protect–his foxy instincts running high.

But still he kept sitting, as long as he could, watching her from the corner of his eye as she sniffed the wind and seemed to be relaxing around him.

Not long after that, she was gone in the mornings and he’d track her here to this cove and peek around the bluff wall to find her sitting in almost the same spot, looking out toward the sea. The first day he’d found her, he’d startled her and she ran off in a flash, not coming home until after dark.

After that he left her be and went back to the goose flats for breakfast. She’d join him soon enough and say nothing about it, smiling as if all was fine. But she never sat so close to him again and she still slept every night with perked ears near an escape route.

After a while though, he tried a different tactic. He came out into the cove and sat at the shore as she did–quiet and still–only still very far away. He’d let her pick up his scent before moving closer and sitting nearby, matching her gaze to the sea, and they would sit in silence for a short moment before she would perk up as if all was well and backtrack to the wall and therefore getting on with the day, nothing more about her alone time to be said.

Until today. Poking his head around the bluff he found Farrah on her feet, trotting up and down a short length of the shore, eyes on the far, far horizon…and then he noticed the smell.

Snow.

There was an iceberg far out to sea, not unusual for late spring on some years, but not altogether common either. They never came close and were often in and out of sight within a morning. This one was drifting further away and Fink watched as Farrah tracked it going, looked after it even when it was too far to be seen or smelled, finally sitting with a little sigh and sink of the head.

And then he understood.

One recent night they’d been looking up at the stars and Fink had pointed out The Great Crack in the Sky, his friend Roz had told him its name was Cassiopeia, whatever that means. That’s when she told him that in her home, they called that group of stars The Iceberg Edge. The elders of her pack used it to teach kits not to go out onto the ice when they saw the pattern of this constellation on the ground, because it meant the ice was breaking up and going out to sea. 

This is how she came here, she told him, caught on a piece of spring ice that broke away during a clutch of warm days. It drifted too far out to sea for anyone to hear her howling. When it was almost melted out from under her, she was lucky enough to swim to a piece of debris and huddle on it for a few days until there was an upset and she was in the water again and the next thing she knew she was waking up in the hut with a bear blocking the exit.

It seemed like yesterday and ages ago all together.

Once she noticed him sitting down the beach, this time he moved closer and sat quietly for a little bit before speaking slow and low.

“You…miss your home, huh.” As he expected, she only blinked down at the sand, and his ears fell to a droop. But she wasn’t running off or changing the subject. Maybe if she wasn’t ready to talk, she might be okay with listening. Fink swallowed, realizing he was about to say some things out loud for the first time. “I felt the same way when I came to this part of the island. My mom kicked me out pretty early and I was run off before I could really learn the ropes. It took me a long time to forgive her. I know now that it wasn’t her first choice, that there were too many males and not enough females so I guess she was afraid I’d get targeted. But I was pretty darn lonely for a long time.”

“What changed?”

His breath caught as she spoke up, but he managed to recover and answer. “I found friends. Really amazing friends. I hope that for you too. It seems like you’re off to a good start. Especially if you keep giving Pinktail a break from her spawn.”

At least she cracked half a smile before letting it fade again. “Friends don’t replace family.”

“No, not replace. But they can become another kind of family. I have proof.” He’d told her enough about Roz and Brightbill, and Thorn spent enough time in the hut that he knew she understood. “But I’d like to hear about your family…” and here he couldn’t help himself, his self-interests creeping in as he tested his chances, “...I assume you mean your mate and kits…”

Here Farrah gave him a look so sudden, so bewildered and distressed that he was about to ask her if he’d overstepped, but instead, that laugh of hers broke out, although not as loudly as usual. 

“I was talking about my mother and siblings. They were my whole world. They had to be. The food was scarce so the families were spread out and…well. Mate? That’s… I’m obviously nobody’s first choice, I mean, just look..” She stuck out her tongue and made a silly face, tilting her head from side to side. 

Fink could only blink, perplexed.

The breeze picked up, but the scent of snow was only a memory now, the water a flat line. Farrah’s nose pointed down to the sand again, her half smile diminishing by half again for a moment. Fink leaned forward, words starting to bubble up, words he thought he’d never get to say to another fox. But before he could say what he’d been holding down, she shook off the mood and feebly tried to make it a non-issue, abolishing the silence between them.

“Have I ever told you how my sister once head-butted an elephant seal?”

“Ah…no. Really?”

“Really!”

“Huh. What’s…an elephant seal?”

“It’s–oh! Sometimes I forget…of course you wouldn’t know...!” Then that laugh again, launching into the story, starting with an impression of the seal–although if it was a good impression or not, he couldn’t tell having never seen one. But he knew somehow by her laughter that it was. She was suddenly back to normal, comfortable to be herself when it was only the two of them in this little hidden cove.

No mate. She had no mate. This was good news. For him. But sad for her. That is, if she wanted one. What if she didn’t–? Wait. What did she mean by that? That nobody would choose her? Because of her fur? Because she was a runt? Maybe that made sense in a place where she would have to hide from predators, but she wouldn’t have to do that here. And even if it was necessary, he could protect her…probably. If she wanted that... Even so, she’d be okay. If he learned anything from Brightbill it was that sometimes the will to survive past nature’s plan for you makes you even more likely to outlive everyone else.

He could certainly feel nature’s plan working on him and thought with a little grin that he would gladly give up a longer life for that plan to work out….

But Farrah was speaking, talking about her family, their annual rounds from point to point in their territory, how she and her sisters used to share everything and hide and pop out to scare their mother and she would do her very best to act frightened. And the nights dancing under the green light curtains! Had he ever seen the shifting lights in the night sky? He had to admit he hadn’t. So he put his wonderings aside and laid down in the sand, crossing his paws and listened, learned, and bathed in the light of her widening trust. They had all day until the tide came back in. And Fink had no need to be anywhere but here.

He hoped in time, she would feel the same.

___

PART 3

MAIN MASTERLIST

[brainworms-all-night-long]

A two parter story about Nine not keeping his mouth shut when asked and the result of that, which he didn't bother sticking by and see through, of which Part 1 is at the ready and spans 7,870 words!!!

Also taking this out of the tags and saying the two locations mentioned (the seamstresses and Oakley's) are my friends @erissaacorn's oc ideas that I yoinked for my own nefarious purposes!!

Part 2: Mesure once, cut twice

---

His foot met soft grass that was slightly wet either from morning dew or recent heavy rain, and the portal closed right behind him.

Putting his hand above his face to block out the bright sun, Nine looked around the new universe.

At first, he would've written it off as just yet another Green Hill with the rolling grassy plains and radiant blue sky, but upon closer inspection, there were barely any hills and the grass seemed far too irregular to be that of the ever-present universe he keeps stumbling upon.

Whatever this place was, it turned out he didn't find himself too far away from a village, which, he wasn't sure was all that good news. Dealing with people, and especially strangers, was still far from his favorite activities, but the fox decided to shoot his shot anyway, seeing as there literally wasn't anything for as far as the eye could see but grass and more grass.

"Well hello there new face!"

...Of course.

"It's not too often we get outsider visitors, what brings you here!"

The ever-familiar blue hedgehog stood just ways off next to him with his hand outstretched for a greeting handshake.

Nine figured it was only polite to return the pleasantries, although his attention was immediately grabbed by the clothes this Sonic was wearing and just how young he looked.

The simple, golden crown sitting on his forehead, with a collared baby blue, long-sleeved shirt with wide cuffs adorned by gold and darker blue pants tucked into yellow, knee-high boots sure was something that Nine didn't think in any universe to be the hedgehog's style, especially not for his younger self, but he's seen all manner of things at this point.

"The name's Dream, guardian of the positive apples, nice to meet you."

Alright, color him even more curious in the first five seconds.

"Nine, I am... just passing by."

Nine looked around inconspicuously and found no twin-tailed fox in sight. Strange.

"Oh, well, depending on how long you plan on staying, I could be your tour guide!"

The chipper attitude of this Sonic must've rubbed off on him already as he didn't have it in him to decline, and nodded.

Following after the exited blue spike ball, the casual chatter and ambiance of the settlement almost immediately enveloped him, and he dared to say it almost felt cozy. The houses were made almost fully of wood and frequented dirt paths layered with rocks tied them together.

The inhabitants that noticed him — both human and mobian alike — gave him strange looks, but besides being used to that, the fox decided to chalk it up to looking extremely out of place in a primitive (ahem, simple) place like this.

Sonic on the other hand waved at and greeted almost every other person they came across. This means he must be either really popular, or everyone here knew each other by default given the relatively small size of the village.

The further they went, and the more porches with children picking and throwing grass at each other while laughing they passed, the more... picturesque, it all looked.

Like a drawing he'd find in an old, discarded storybook at the bottom of a dumpster an orphaned little fox would find and read through day and night over and over, wishing he could just go there.

Nine shook his head.

With living in the story book came suspension of disbelief, followed by an ominous, uncanny feeling. It all looked way too happy and clean, but he saved any further judgement for later.

"Here's Oakley's, the carpenters, where he can fix or create anything made out of wood! Though he's been kind of sick lately and the golden apple I gave him doesn't seem to be helping much."

Coming back to the present, Nine noted the second mention of the so-called 'golden apples' after they passed by a large dark brown house with a busy porch.

It was lined with chairs and other pieces of common wooden furniture, with its doors and window frames carved into charming patterns.

He particularly lingered on a cute wooden duck with wheels for feet and a string tied around its neck sitting on one of the tables. Not that he wanted it, but the fact it was most likely carved by hand, so he simply admired the craftsmanship. That, and it was the closest thing in his line of sight anyway.

They passed by a fruit stall next, and the smell of fresh fruit convinced him he felt just a little hungry. Though he learned to be careful with the food items from other universes at this point, after a few unfortunate events.

No matter, his pockets were empty both of any money and any other item he figured could have the same value as an apple to people in here.

"C'mon take one, we can't have our guest going hungry after all!"

Sonic seemed to read his mind though, or it was simply reactive generosity that the fox had no intention of declining. It was just an apple after all. Most likely. Hopefully.

Perfomatively wiping it into his shirt, Nine enjoyed the fruit to its full capacity as he followed the hedgehog around with no end goal in mind.

While in any other universe he'd find backseat shopping the most mind-numbing activity imaginable, he didn't have it in him to be frustrated in the slightest here for some reason.

Sonic dragged him back to the present yet again by pointing at another larger than the rest house.

"And this is the shop of our seamstress. She can tailor you the most beautiful, or if function is more of your thing, durable attire from almost any piece of fabric in no time! Though you can never expect where a conversation with her leads haha."

"Did she tailor your clothes too?" The fox asked mostly because the more he looked at the hedgehog, the more out of place he felt among the average villager here. Everyone was mostly wearing dark brown, beige, or white, simple clothing with aprons and hats, while Sonic looked like he should sit in a castle or a chapel of some sort.

"Not really, no, mine and Night's clothes were given to us by our mother."

"Tch, you look almost like a lost prince." Nine remarked with a smirk while noted yet another unusual mention of Sonic's seemingly biological family. Though the remark was meant as a sort of a pseudo compliment he wasn't sure it sounded like it.

"You think so, haha!"

Sonic ran with it though and didn't seem bothered by his attitude in the slightest. That was always just a matter of time anyway, but Nine decided to turn his attention towards what appeared to be a small bookstall that they stopped in front of now.

Small as in, one shelf of books sorted by... nothing as far as he could pick out, with a tiny mouse girl behind the counter.

Upon hearing Sonic's order she carefully handed him the book from the bottom shelf, instructing him to be careful with it, to which Sonic gave a smug nod yet held the book like it was made of porcelain until he turned back to the fox.

"Alright I think this is actually all I wanted, we can finally return to the tree and I can introduce you to Night too."

Sonic said with a smile and the book safely tucked under his arm.

Fine, so safe to assume that Tails exists in this universe. It's honestly jarring that he hasn't seen the other part of the seemingly inseparable duo no matter the universe yet. If anything he in vain expected the bright yellow fox to jump them a few streets back.

Perhaps he was sick and that's why Sonic went shopping for him?

They were about to continue their way and Nine was looking for a place to throw the leftover of his apple when a group of kids that paid him no mind almost ran him over, giggling. He wanted to curse them out and noted the two red foxes among the four of them, before his attention was dragged just a bit higher.

"Dream! You have not forgotten about the garden, have you?"

A female voice suddenly yelled out, but Nine ignored the mystery woman with all of his attention on the absolute behemoth of a tree sitting atop the hill in front of him.

Literally, how did he not notice that sooner was beyond him, but questioning his peripheral vision aside, he decided to nonchalantly turn his head back to face Sonic and the woman.

Her notably black hair was tied in a high ponytail and she held a set of baskets on her hip. Sonic stood just a ways away from her, looking between the items in his hands, the woman, and Nine, with his startled eyes lingering on the fox.

"Um, this is kind of important, if you could take this up and to Night?"

Sonic sheepishly extended the items forward, and normally Nine would've protested at the sudden turn of events, but decided to wordlessly take the two things from the hedgehog's hands instead.

"Ah, are you sure he doesn't want to go with us?" The woman inquired with an almost sickly sweet demeanor that Nine was immediately not fond of.

He eyed her, but tried to make his distrust not all that noticeable when he declined

"No thank you, I don't really do gardening."

"You sure darling? we could use an extra pair of hands."

"Miss Katheryne come on, no need to drag an unsuspecting passerby into pulling weeds eh. I'm well equipped for that job alone."

Sonic dragged her attention from the fox as he tried to pry one of the two baskets from her grip and Nine let out an internal sigh of relief.

She let the hedgehog take it while the other container fell over to her side and she let out a nervous giggle "Alright alright, well, enjoy your stay little one, you're of course welcome to stop by at any time."

Afterward she wordlessly turned around, with Sonic waving him a temporary goodbye.

Nine kept his eyes on the duo before they disappeared over a corner and were out of sight for good. He decided to not bother dissecting the out of pocket interaction as he made his way up the hill. The grass was quite slippery still, which made it difficult to secure his footing and not fall over every other step.

Quiet noises of both distress and laughter immediately sent him on alert however, and he was willing to sacrifice a bit by speeding up his ascend. Each longer step he took with little help from his mechanical tails saved a few centimeters of the incline and he wasn't all that out of breath by the time he met horizontal ground again.

The picture-perfect facade of this universe fell just as hard as the little fox that was shoved to the ground with a yelp by a young bear, who then mercilessly smoothed the fox's face into the ground, effectively muffling any noise he made afterward.

Nine stood frozen for just a second before not thinking twice and giving into the sudden spark of rage in his chest. Wrapping the string holding the bag together around his hand, he steadily made his way towards the little group.

These were surely the same four kids he saw run up the hill just a while ago, if those two cackling red foxes were anything to go by.

One of them grabbed onto Tails' bangs and forcibly lifted his head back off the ground and snorted, most likely finding the kit's face welled up with tears amusing.

Nine spared only a second for eye contact and using the fact neither of the kids noticed him so far for building some momentum into a swing.

The bear's shoulder was harshly met with a bag of apples — that surely felt more like rocks — as he was knocked off the kit and toppled over the red fox.

His pained grunt was mixed with a surprised gasp from the rest of the group left standing, and that's when Nine remembered he had much more effective tools of offense than one bag of fruit.

His mechanical tails sprawled around him, their tips pointed threateningly in front of each of the kid's faces and they all flinched back.

Nine couldn't help the smirk that made its way onto his face.

Good.

One amongst them, a human boy with dark black hair tried to play tough by yelling out and trying to get into his face. Nine felt in no way intimidated by him however, even if he was taller, as the kid was scrawny and had no real weapons that could hold against his. Nine bared his teeth and posed himself just a bit above the ground, which appropriately made the human, alongside everyone else, reconsider and back away just a bit more.

"Tch, you think we're scared of you?!"

Nine narrowed his stare towards the red fox holding his shoulder. A face he recognized and one that he already made turn tail and run the other way when he was much younger and weaker.

Nine made a bluff strike that aimed at the fox's chest. The runt appropriately jumped back with any confidence he had dissipating and unease taking over his posture.

"Yes."

"You're way over you head, freak."

He heard the human boy lift a rock and throw it his way. It would've been a successful hit to his head had he not effortlessly blocked it with one of his tails. For a second before that he considered catching it in his hand, but decided to rather keep to a reasonable limit of his abilities to avoid getting too drunk on his power high.

"Pot calling the cattle black."

Nine simply stated with a grin as he picked up the rock nonchalantly.

The human gulped as Nine made him his clear target, by all means wanting to return the rock full force back to sender, except at the last second he shot it towards the bear that was already on his way down the hill.

With a yelp, he didn't manage to dodge it and the rock hit his ankle full force.

A fearful face betrayed any bravado the bear might've posed in his statue and Nine's grin only solidified when his ear flicked back.

Apparently, to drive the point further in, and fairly demonstrate the fact he wasn't stupid, he made another bluff strike behind him, spooking the yet uninjured red fox who thought it was a good idea to sneak in a failed surprise attack.

A loose brush with a metal point to his nose seemed to be what finally made the kids decide he wasn't worth it and they promptly ran off the hill while cursing under their breath.

Which left just him, and his lookalike alone under the tree's shade.

The sudden shot of adrenaline slowly dissipated, and he fully reveled in the small catharsis of knowing he was still more than intimidating enough to deal with a pathetic group of bullies like that.

Nine let out a sharp sigh and snapped his mechanical tails back in place, then finally turned towards the person he went up here for in the first place.

Or where he though he would be, but instead found just flattened grass.

The next best place to look was the tree branches above, and sure enough he saw a pair of scared blue eyes looking tearfully back at him.

Nine dropped the bag of apples to the ground unceremoniously and tried handing over the book, basically beckoning the other to come back down.

With all the sudden movement though, Tails all but flinched and retreated further into the tree's crown.

Nine knew that even when the immediate danger was taken care of, his first and then overall impression wasn't exactly friendly, but that was by design.

He sighed.

"I'm not gonna hold my hand out forever. Sonic- Dream sent me to give this to you."

A a bead of silence was followed by a while of rustling leaves and finally a thud sounding from the other side of the tree.

Trained pointy ears peaked from behind the tree trunk and Nine's hand officially gave out.

At long last the other fox showed himself fully and Nine could properly analyze him.

This Tails wore the exact same attire – albeit now dirty from mud and grass – as Sonic. Except the color scheme was purple and brown, with a roughed-up golden cape draped around his shoulders and the simplistic crown smooshing the three strands of fur on his forehead sported a hollow out of a crescent moon.

He went to take the book, but Nine's hand sprung back a little too fast and Tails hesitated.

With a deadpan expression Nine didn't react too much on it and waited until the other finally let his hand fall empty and free.

He figured that he could at least offer the basics of sympathies, although not make it seem like he was high and ready to patch up the kit's, hopefully, only superficial injuries.

"Nothing broken?"

Tails shook his head.

"Good."

Nine then took a few steps back and slumped against the tree, finding a comfortable place between the roots.

At a loss on how to carry this interaction further, Nine crossed his hands over his chest and looked to the village bellow. While at it, he realized he most likely marked himself a future target, if the human kid's familiar features had anything to say but he digressed.

Whatever whiny tantrums they'll throw is at most a future him's problem.

The face of the red fox flashed fore him and Nine to turn back towards the other sitting under the tree.

"How often do you have to deal with those."

Albeit his question might fall on mute mouth since so far this Tails hasn't spoken a word, though Nine hoped it was just the result of stress as he didn't feel like navigating a nonverbal conversation.

Tails merely grabbed the golden cape around himself like a protective blanket while, thankfully, trying to find his voice.

"I-its, um, it's a rare occurrence really I j-just..." He shook his head and slumped back against the bark, seemingly trying to sink into the ground bellow. "Thank you, anyway."

Tails stared at his book that he finally opened in his lap, but it was obvious he wasn't reading, mind stuck on and busy processing other things.

"...It's not often someone bothers with that."

The insecurity in that barely audible whisper apparent, Nine grit his teeth. He had a faint inkling he knew exactly what was going on here.

"Have you tried fighting back?"

Tails fiddled with the corners of a few pages with his eyes downcast before answering "Not really. I'm sure if I did it they would just get meaner, anyway."

Fair point, which for a second made Nine reconsider his immediate and almost absolute suggestion. Fighting back without any means to secure victory and make it stick would cause more harm than good.

Looking back down and around, the view from up here was pretty enchanting to say the least, and the air seemed slightly lighter too.

His attention was soon back to the tree however, and the shimmering specks of fruit hanging from it. It was hard to immediately tell with the sun hitting some of them directly, but they were two different colors.

Nine marked them as the golden apples Sonic kept going on about.

Eventually, his eyes ended up back down, looking at the little fox huddled on the ground. Upon more careful inspection, this Tails also looked really young, maybe around six or five years old, and the notion of that made him frown when counting in his banged-up state.

Ignoring the current bruises and messy fur, there was an obvious scar on the bridge of his snout, what was definitely dried blood under his nose, multiple patches of ripped fur from his otherwise bushy namesakes, and quite heavy eyebags under his eyes.

Nine also noted the kit contradicted himself right in the second sentence he said, but after noticing all that, there was no way Nine's buying the previous scene being a rare occurrence.

Tails is universally bullied most commonly for his namesakes — and that's a fact as he came to find out — but that usually ceases after his pretty much fated meeting with Sonic. Which, doesn't seem to be the case here for whatever reason.

Nine eventually tired of standing in the middle of the hill and sticking out like a sore thumb, so he made his way towards the apple tree and sat one clump of roots over, next to the kit as nonchalantly as possible. Although he made a makeshift chair of his mechanical tails as he didn't really feel like sitting on damp and uneven grass.

Giving it a few seconds to get comfortable, Nine then peered over the wood separating them. The uncharacteristic deviation from the almost universal relationship between the fox and the hedgehog kept nagging his mind.

"Does Dream know about this?"

The tense silence from the other was more than enough of an answer.

"Why don't you tell him, I'm sure he'd be able to do something about it."

The guardian's downcast expression turned sour, with a few creases appearing on the book's pages.

"I don't think so. Everyone loves him, but only because it literally makes them feel good when he's around. And that he has trouble saying no to people when they ask something of him, so they find him useful."

Finally giving up, Tails closed the book and set it aside, then hugged his legs close to his chest and rested his head on his knees.

"I'm sure if he went against them because of me, they would not take kindly to it."

Nine soaked up the words and was actually taken aback by the bluntness, but it seemed that so was Tails himself.

"I'm sorry this is, um. You're not from here, are you? I'd rather not make this one of your problems, I don't think you have to see too deep into it."

Nine realized his expression has gone too soft at that, and took his time to distance himself from the other.

Yeah, yea Tails was correct in fact. There was no reason to care about something that will ultimately be inconsequential to him. A few minutes in, it was obvious this universe was far from ideal place for him to stay, as one, he definitely doesn't feel like raising two orphaned kids in a village so obviously biased, so whatever squabble or interpersonal relationship wasn't his business. And two, there was little to no technology present besides handcarved wooden ducks, which would sooner or later drive him insane.

He let complete apathy wash over him and grabbed the MTC in his hand.

But while he could just get up and leave at any moment...

Looking at the other fox from the corner of his eye, he couldn't help but feel just the tiniest bit of sympathy hold him down.

He knows more than anyone how much it would mean if someone stepped in just once before he had to do it himself. And if the technological state of this village was anything to go by, that would prove to be just a bit more trouble for the Tails in here.

"The name's Nine by the way."

The fox's ear flicked towards him, followed by an unsure expression.

"Nightmare."

That sure is... a peculiar name.

"Big brother calls me Night though, which sounds very similar to your name actually." Tails gave a weak smile at that and finally turned his head to face Nine.

"Hmm, yeah it kinda does." There wasn't much that came to mind in terms of an answer to that though, and he let the conversation die right after.

Wait. Oh was this like, a sun and moon type deal. Dream and Nightmare, purple and yellow, golden and black and all that.

Nine playfully rolled his eyes at not getting the very obvious theme sooner.

Though, Idly sitting here made him realize just how exhausted he was from his constant hopping back and forth between all manner of worlds, so he figured there was nothing wrong with taking a little break from all that. Maybe he'll stay overnight and a bit of tomorrow after all.

Or maybe he'll just take a nap right here and now and set out again afterward.

He crossed both his legs and hands while keeping his ears trained for the smallest movement going around.

The purpose of it was defensive, just in case anyone else gets any funny ideas while he appears low on guard, but it leaned in the side effect of making him soak in a stray bird song, undertoned by the rustle of hundreds of leaves under a gentle, albeit slightly chilly breeze that was nicely canceled out by the warm shade the tree provided.

Even if he could never truly afford to relax, this was probably the closest to something like that he'd ever get. That is until he finds a proper home. Hopefully.

"Where are you from though, I never seen anything similar to those metal tails you have."

That threw a wrench in his plans. Although it was rather foolish of him to assume Tails would just, be quiet the whole time, and not wonder about the random stranger that just wandered into his favorite hiding place for all he knows.

"Where I'm from is not important, I'm basically a homeless wanderer at this point." Nine settled on forcing out. And his place of origin really meant nothing to him. If anything he was glad most of his memories of New Yoke were faded and unclear as were that of Shatterverse. He didn't belong to either of those, and so there was no use in remembering them.

"You look really familiar."

"No duh, I have your exact face- don't worry about that too much though." Nine quickly backpedaled, he didn't feel like explaining the concept of the multiverse right now, as he warily stole a glance at the other fox.

"Well, maybe a little less babyish but still."

"No not like that I mean- yea nevermind."

Tails went silent again, seemingly regretting his choice to speak up in the first place.

A small pang of guilt hit Nine when he saw the other shrink into himself again, and he sighed.

"Ok, well then what do you mean?"

It took a second. But the guardian took time to regain the bit of his confidence to speak back up.

"...Those, metal tails of yours, when you were scaring off the other kids a while ago, they made your silhouette look like someone I frequently see in my dreams."

That... was sure something Nine wasn't expecting to hear, but he'd be lying if he said some curiosity wasn't piqued. This universe sure had its way of doing that.

"As in, a prophetic way or..?"

"In a nightmare way, actually." The other stated matter-of-factly, but when Nine creased his brow, he immediately went on defensive

"Don't take it as me being rude or superstitious! I'm really not! It's just, uh, an observation." He then chuckled weakly, most likely hoping to decrease the tension, but Nine was neutral with that notion honestly, not even knowing whether he should think anything of it at all.

He never attributed any deep meanings to dreams, as they were just recreations of his lived experience, which, were far from pleasant. Whatever Nightmare here is going through is the same most likely.

But it made him think, that maybe little him would be proud to have have a silhouette someone would see in their recurring nightmares, a bit.

He placed one of his mechanical tails in his hand and for the first time after a long time, carefully examined them again. Their dull casing was scarred by dents and scratches from their years of active use, with the gear holding this particular segment firmly kept in its place with the neon underglow still active.

For a second he was back in his workshop as a much younger self, grinning like a maniac after he connected the last of the needed pieces together and finally tried out the finished tails (after many failed prototypes) with an immeasurable amount of pride in his chest.

He smiled, reminiscing, until the guardian's small voice shook him from his stupor.

"Anyway, you said Dream send you here?"

He let the tail fall from his hand.

"Pretty much. He wanted to come along but some lady stopped him and dragged him off to clean weeds or something. I don't remember."

"And she just let you go?"

"Begrudgingly, but yea. Why?"

Tails went quiet again, picking at the tips of his namesakes with pursed lips.

"The villagers...they don't really like me."

The fox started slowly with his ears pinned back.

"But they don't want Dream to know that. So some of them will distract him and keep him occupied, while others will- well, I don't know how much you saw but, they're usually a bit more vicious than that."

Tails shook his head and finally uncurled from his position, picking up the book again.

"I was just wondering for how long he'd be away again. If Katheryne took him then it's probably until sunset..."

The way the little guardian spoke made it all the more clear this was not just a repetitive torment from the side of the stupid kids, but a calculated move from the adults as well.

Sudden anger began to bubble in Nine, but he wasn't sure who it was directed at. He'd much rather dismiss it as Tails reading too much into it, but it's him that lives here, not Nine.

Something about that woman's insistence he'd come along before Sonic interjected now justified his negative hunch about her.

The anger must've taken to the surface and Nine lost control of his facial features, as whatever was his face showing alerted the fox next to him.

"But you won't tell him, Right? I- I already said I can't drag him down with me, you can't."

Nine looked at him for a second, for some reason stumped for an answer. The simple decision would be to just say fine, and leave it at that, turn away, and forget about this world just like the others. But that self-evident and most rational decision didn't seem all that appealing based on the very little window he had just seen into this universe.

He'd be a liar if he kept telling himself he didn't care for the kit. Even if it was more of a project-y sort of rage towards the people here he doesn't even know, than sympathy for his situation (for some reason).

Nine internally groaned and forced himself to seal a promise he wasn't 100% sold on keeping.

"I won't say a word."

Tails well, it was hardly a smile he gave once his shoulders finally dropped with the release of tension, and he sunk back to his spot.

The words fizzled out once more.

Sun continued its path through the blue sky unbothered by any event beneath it and ever so slowly dimmed as silent minutes ticked by. Eventually, the leaves were accompanied by the flicker of book pages as Tails finally started reading.

Nine began to thread the line between sleep and consciousness when a sudden yawn ripped through him.

The kit next to him audibly flinched and Nine toppled back into being mostly aware of his surroundings. His nose twitched in annoyance.

"I um, I forgot you were here." Tails laughed nervously. Nine attempted to ignore him however and tried to take the only long term functioning remedy for that yawn.

Tails didn't let him have it as he suddenly hopped up and snatched the bag of apples Nine dropped off not that far away, making it Nine's turn to flinch.

"We, I mean, me and my brother don't really have to eat, but it's nice to just munch on something sometimes. Don't know how it's with you but I assure you apples from here taste amazing!"

Nine took the offered apple from the kit's hands but then simply dropped it into his lap.

"Yea I already had one today, thanks either way."

"We'll then you can keep it for your travels!"

All he gave was a small nod, as uninterested as he could be.

"I'm sorry I keep talking, but, one last question."

Nine fought with himself to not audibly groan.

"Um, just how long will you stay here?"

Instead, he huffed, fully abandoning the idea of the nap.

"Probably the night and I'll set out in the morning."

But he suddenly stopped himself when he realized his tone had just a bit too much of an edge to it, not to mention he hadn't used it consciously. Just sitting here, he felt more frustrated than back in the village with Sonic dragging him around like a dog on an invisible leash.

He side-eyed the kit next to him, but he felt insane for the dots it made him connect, so he brushed it off.

He was really tired is all. And someone constantly had to interrupt his attempts at getting a proper rest.

Tails simply hummed in acknowledgment and returned back into his reading.

Unfortunately, Nine was completely offset now and couldn't put his mind to rest no matter how hard he tried.

Letting out a sigh through his nose he looked up and leaned his head just a bit more roughly, yet intentionally, into the bark of the tree.

That sigh must've been just a decibel too loud when Tails's ears lowered and he began apologizing

"What are these apples about."

Though Nine couldn't care less about listening to pointless "sorries" while transfixed by the peculiar fruit hanging above him.

Tails perked up ever so slightly instead. "Well, without going too deep into the magical-mechanical aspect of them they're like, little fruits containing concentrated either positive or negative emotion, which is marked by their opposing colors. Though a better contrast would've been black and white, but can you imagine white apples?"

The kit was pointing towards the fruit hanging above them as he spoke with that was definitely an attempt to end a part of his spiel humorously, although Nine wouldn't say succeed.

"Their shared existence on one tree holds the balance in the emotions of everyone in this world, as far as I know."

Nine sure wasn't expecting a whole ass sudden info dump, but despite it, he sure had questions. He went to open his mouth, only for Tails to silence and answer his question immediately.

"You're not allowed to take or eat them though, since they're way too powerful and overwhelming for one person to hold and can be only lent for a while with our permission, since I and Dream are the tree's guardians and all that..."

With what great confidence Tails began to speak, slowly fizzled.

Nine let the remark of neither of them exactly doing their jobs die on his tongue, and instead, he decided to indulge the kit next to him, he was the one who started with the questions anyway.

"Can you eat them?"

"Well... we've never really tried. Besides, just holding the apple gives more or less the desired effect anyway. That leads to no one really caring for the negative side of the tree."

Tails trailed off again, deciding that the grass beneath him was super interesting and he needed to rip a few blades of it to closely examine them.

"And I was... born from it. Which is why you're so irritated right now."

Nine raised his eyebrow.

"So you knew...?"

"I can sort of weakly sense the emotions people around me are feeling. So yes. Doesn't help that being next to me only intensifies the negative ones though."

Tails was fully curled on himself at this point, hiding in the golden cape that would actually fit Sonic's vibe way more than Tails' but asking about that would either have the kit shrink even more or let him loose on another info dump.

"You're full of them though, even without my influence."

Nine simply chuckled in agreement at that.

"So with that logic, Dream has the exact opposite effect?"

Tails silently nodded.

"Fascinating."

Even so, Nine didn't mind getting to know more of this apple stuff. It's both an outlandish yet genuinely interesting concept if he says so himself.

Feeling a little less red string on a corkboard, Nine found himself curious still, mulling over random questions while Tails went on and on explaining them.

Their conversation leading to Nine explaining random robotics trivia that Tails followed up with his own limited knowledge and questions went back and forth. It let time flow on quite easy again, until they were interrupted by the sound of someone familiar huffing his way up the hill. With that, Nine was made aware of just how much time has passed when he looked at the dark orange to pinkish sky draped in a low sunset.

Soon enough, a dirt-covered Sonic holding a square bag to his shoulder, with his sleeves rolled up and gloves sticking out of his pant's pockets, greeted them energetically.

"Haha, glad to see you two getting along!"

The foxes waved back to him, and the hedgehog bent over leaning on his knees while struggling to catch his breath.

"Sorry for taking so long, Katheryne can really be a handful sometimes."

Regaining a bit of his strength, he took the two extra steps and stopped in front of Tails. He than brought the bag off his shoulder and immediately dug through it.

Sure enough, it was made clear the bag was a first aid kit — or at least what would be considered that for the times this universe lives in — when Sonic laid out a few bandages and tiny bottles with clear liquids. He covered the opening of one with a piece of clean white cloth while Tails put his hands out in protest.

"Sonic I'm fine don't worry about-"

"Shush no excuses, now show me your nose."

With great reluctance, Tails let the hedgehog hold his muzzle and wipe off the dried blood, before he moved on to the mud still staining the front plain of his face.

"It smells horrible."

Tails scrunched up his nose and physically tried to shake the aggressive scent off him while Sonic carefully rolled up one of his sleeves, revealing a bloodstained bandage that must've been a few days old already.

"I know bud, I know."

Nine watched them silently, unable to fight the sympathy that the fox kept garnering from him at this point.

Huh, if the emotion aura stuff is true it would only make sense the two being near each other would cancel out and make the area neutral.

Either way, the fact Sonic came prepared meant he was aware enough to know Tails keeps getting hurt when he's away, which made the relationship just a bit more confusing again.

"You didn't happen to ruffle each other up while I was gone have you?"

And of course, Nine would be the prime suspect for Tails gathering the new injuries that weren't there in the morning. He was bout to say what happened exactly, when he was hit with Tails' pleading eyes and the promise to keep his mouth shut.

"N-no worries big bro, I just fell off the tree because my cape got stuck in the branches, it's fine." Luckily, Tails seemed to have a mildly convincing excuse at the ready, and Sonic turned his full attention to wrapping the now-cleaned gash in his brother's arm.

"If anything he's super nice, did you know that there can exist machinery so advanced it can be programmed to flawlessly mimic biological beings?"

Sonic froze for a second, unsure of how to reply, while he rolled up the dirty bandage.

"That, huh. That sounds kinda scary actually. Is that a common thing for where you're from?" The guardian asked, turning his head towards Nine.

"Kind of not really? It's mostly just an outstanding feat of engineering that was achieved only a couple of times, so no need to worry."

He couldn't tell either of them who the replicas were based on now, could he?

The hedgehog merely nodded while Tails went on, either to distract himself from the sting in his arm or just because.

"Nine knows so much about machines, and he told me so many cool stories he got from traveling all over the place!"

"Huh, sure would love to go on an adventure like that someday." Sonic mused after carefully placing all of the supplies back into the medical bag.

"Well why don't you?"

Nine asked without hesitation, because if there was one thing he learned at this point, it was that Sonic cannot stay in one place for long. Even if you embed his legs into concrete, he'd either go insane or find a way out.

"We can't go anywhere, since we have to stay near the eyeshot of the tree to not let anyone get any funny ideas." Sonic sighed.

And that seemed to be true here, except the responsibility keeping Sonic tied down was something he couldn't run away from.

"Do you guys like, live here? Under the tree I mean."

"Hmm pretty much. Well in my very humble opinion it's much better than in a closed off hut built somewhere in a ditch."

Sonic threw the bag up and it's straps caught on a nearby branch. He tugged on it to make sure it will not slide down before climbing the tree himslef and stretching his hand out for Tails to grab on.

"It could do with something to keep the rain out though."

Tails commented and followed his brother up into the crown again, where he basically disappeared between the leaves.

"Sleeping on a tree can be hardly comfortable."

"Hah, says the one who sits on cold metal."

Sonic shot back with a finger gun pointed at Nine.

"Thermodynamics. The metal doesn't stay cold for long."

Sonic's attitude dropped a bit at the most likely unknown word to him but he brushed it off, finding the most comfortable branch to sit on, and leaned back on it. Maybe leaned back too much, as he toppled over and hung upside down from the branch like a bat.

"Thermowhatever's when wood is all you're used to sleeping on since birth it is more comfortable than a rigged bed."

"Agree to disagree."

"Mimimi."

Sonic mouthed back, but Nine didn't mind it much, banter with Sonic was fun.

"So you said you'd stay the night?"

Tails' disembodied voice was accompanied by an unnatural rustle of leaves.

"Most likely yea."

Suddenly the world went dark for Nine as suffocating weight was thrown over him. His temporary panic was intercepted by Tails' giggles and Sonic's tone that couldn't contain its humor properly either

"It gets cold at night, and I doubt anyone here would be willing to let a stranger inside their house at this hour. Not to be mean or anything, just safety for safety's sake y'know."

The sudden darkness turned out to be a yellow and navy blanket with sun and moon patterns. Nine assumed it to most likely be tailor made for them by the mentioned seamstress, but that was besides the point. The blanket was indeed a good insulator so it served its purpose.

"Thanks." Nine mumbled and somehow put the blanket over himself in a more comfortable manner. "Why do you go to sleep so early anyway?"

"And who told you we're going to sleep eh." Sonic swung himself back up into a proper sitting position, crossed his legs and rested his chin on his hand. "Again don't take it personally, but we can't leave the tree unsupervised, like, at all. Though I wouldn't mind if we could go on an adventure like you're on." Sonic sounded like someone elbowed him at the end of his sentence.

"So you're just gonna stay up the whole night instead."

"There's two of us for a reason duh."

He's gonna be kept under a night watch, how lovely.

Unfortunately, Nine knew it wouldn't be possible to enter deep sleep when someone's watching him, or is aware of his presence at all. He would of course give it a few minutes maybe an hour or two if he bears it, because he needs some rest at the end of the day, but he'll hardly make it till morning.

Feeling his head lulling to the side he shook himself awake. Opening his eyes, Nine turned towards his MTC with full intent of activating a portal and leaving without a trace, but the image of Tails with terrified eyes welled up in tears surfaced in his mind uninvited.

Nine exhaled with more force than needed.

He looked up, the hedgehog's leg dangled off a branch carelessly meaning that if either of the guardians fell asleep, it was Tails.

With great effort, Nine got up to his feet and flew the extra distance needed to be at eye level with the hedgehog.

He flicked Sonic's nose with full intent of breaking the promise he settled just a few hours back.

"Ow what the-"

Nine quickly covered the hedgehog's mouth and cursed himself for not thinking just one step ahead. Tails has to be unaware until Nine is already on his way, the consequences weren't his to deal with.

Sonic didn't take kindly to the gesture, unsurprisingly, and while mumbling curses, he grabbed the fox's hand in an attempt to shove it away.

Nine didn't budge though "Be quiet and meet me at the bottom of the hill. I just have something to tell you and I'll be out of your guys' fur, I promise."

Nine put as much urgency into his whisper as he could while keeping a finger to his mouth.

Sonic narrowed his eyes and looked over his shoulder at his sleeping brother, before sighing.

"You better not be playing me for a fool buddy."

But Nine was already halfway down the incline, not letting his legs suffer the way they did when going up, he elected to just glide down.

By all accounts the guardian finally caught up to him and exclaimed "Woa you can fly?!" after Nine landed.

The fox's eyes were fully concentrated on his MTC as he fiddled with the coordinates.

"Yes and by all accounts, Night should too."

"Wait what."

"He has two tails doesn't he?"

"Yes but I'm not sure those are exactly build for flying..."

Sonic scratched his head, while Nine was one confirm click from opening a portal.

"Now, I've been asked specifically to not tell you anything, but listen up."

He wasn't sure just how strong Sonic in this world was but if he was worth a damn, he'll do something to save his little brother.

[varpusvaras]

Breha confided in Visaiya first.

Visaiya had already heard about Bail's sudden call, as it had very much interrupted the proceedings before, and she was anxious to hear what Bail had to say.

"Was everything alright?" She asked, once they were in the privacy of Breha's office.

"Bail has found his other soulmate", Breha told her.

Visaiya had just sat down, and she jumped right back up.

"Are you serious?" She asked, her eyes wide. "Who is it?"

"We are not entirely sure yet", Breha answered. "But it seems that it was one of the clones in the Coruscant Guard."

Visaiya drew back a little.

"Well, that is a development for sure", she said. "How can you not be sure yet? There needs to be a point of connection, after all."

"Bail talked with several of them", Breha said. "He is going to talk to the Commander of the Guard, as he was with the troopers as well. If it really is one of his men, he needs to know, too."

Visaiya nodded, clearly thinking.

"What about the Commander himself?" She asked. "Did Bail talk with him?"

"I am not sure", Breha said. "Possibly. He was a bit surprised by the whole thing. It was sudden, after all, and it has been so long since we got our marks."

She looked down on her hand, at the two flowers on her skin. One on the left, one on the right, with just enough space between them for a third.

Sometimes it just takes time, her grandmother had said, and Breha was starting to understand now how truly correct she had been about everything.

There had been no way for anyone to predict something like this happening.

"What about you?" Visaiya asked. "When are you going to Coruscant?"

Right. If Bail had found his soulmate, one that shared the mark with them...it stood to reason that perhaps, he would be Breha's soulmate as well.

It made her nervous, in a way that waiting to find her soulmate for the first time around had not. She had met Bail without knowing that he shared the mark with her at first. Now she knew there was someone there, someone who she didn't yet know, but who she knew shared a connection with her, a connection much deeper than either of them could understand.

Breha had wanted a soulmate. She had craved that connection, that familiarity and belonging.

If someone was meant to have that connection with her, she would never deprave them of that.

"Clear my schedule for the rest of the week", she told Visaiya. "I'll be going as soon as Bail has some news for me."

--- ---

Bail called her the next evening.

"I didn't have to ask around for long", he told her. "The Commander seemed to expect me to arrive."

"He had already heard about it, then?" Breha asked, carefully. Either the Commander had heard about it, or-

"Certainly", Bail said. "It is him."

Breha left for Coruscant the next morning.

--- ---

Commander Fox was a notable man.

Breha wasn't sure how else she should've described him when she saw him for the first time in person. She had seen him, before, of course, having received glimpses of him through Bail before this.

He was notable in a way that Breha couldn't help but notice him. He stood tall, with his shoulders resting in perfect attention, and the deep red of his armor making him immediately stand out from his surroundings, like a painting on a white gallery wall.

The most notable thing about him, though, was his face.

Breha had not seen his face before. She had seen the armor and everything else, but not his face. He had his helmet on when Breha stepped inside Bail's office, and his eyes, soft and deep dark brown, immediately moved to her, giving her their whole attention. There was something in his eyes that Breha couldn't quite make out, something well guarded.

"Good afternoon", Breha greeted him. "Commander Fox."

Commander Fox bowed down his head.

"Good afternoon", he greeted her back. "Your Majesty."

When he straightened his back and lifted his eyes back to Breha's, she felt it. The familiar feeling of blooming underneath her skin.

There was no doubt of it then.

Breha smiled.

"It is a pleasure to meet you", she said. "I feel like we have a lot to talk about."

She gave her hand to him, and she saw his eyes glance towards the mark on her wrist.

The mark, that now bore three flowers, the one in the middle interlocking all three of them together.

His fingers on his left hand clenched briefly, before he gave her his hand as well.

"It seems so", he said.

--- ---

Commander Fox was a notable man.

He was very intelligent, that Breha noticed right away. He chose his words well, and was always watching attentively for every movement either Breha or Bail made, continuously reading the room around him.

He reminded Breha of Bail, a little, when he was in the middle of a Senate session or even a debate of any sort.

"We were not ever really explained the meaning of the marks", he told them, sitting on the edge of the office couch with his back straight and his hands resting on his lap. "The Kaminoans left any further cultural education for our trainers. They taught us that the marks are a private matter, and shouldn't be shown to outsiders. No further education on to what outsiders exactly meant. I am guessing now, that it means anyone who doesn't have the matching marks."

He knew what the marks were, now, as it had been impossible to not notice them while on Coruscant, surrounded by millions of beings.

"I am not sure about how to proceed", he said, at the end of it, and then sat there quietly, waiting for either of them to move the discussion forward.

He definitely reminded Breha of Bail.

"We will proceed however you like", Bail said diplomatically. "Soulmarks are a mark of a connection. It is entirely up to you what type of connection you wish to have."

Commander Fox gave them a wary look at that point.

"You two are married", he said, his tone free of accusations, but the words themselves made his message clear.

"We got to know each other first", Breha said. "We didn't get married the moment we learned we shared a mark. He is one of my best friends, and I wanted to have him sharing my life and duty. Marriage was the best suited option for us."

Commander Fox nodded, slowly, comtemplating his next move.

"I am not comfortable with acting upon any meaning yet", he said. He didn't sound harsh when he said it, even though he was speaking firmly. It was an opening, even if it was a small one.

"That is more than understandable", Bail said. "We do not wish to force you into anything. A soulmate is not supposed to be chain, nor the mark a brand."

Commander Fox was quiet for a moment.

"Can I ask one question, then?" He asked.

"Of course", Breha said. "Anything you want."

"Why was it important for you to come here, Your Majesty?" He asked, looking at Breha. "I already received one mark. If you do not wish to force me into anything, was it necessary for me to receive the second one as well?"

It was a fair question.

"I came here partly because I wished to see if you'd be my soulmate as well, yes", Breha said. "I did not wish to potentially deprave you of a connection, either. I came here partly because you are my husband's soulmate, and even if you didn't share a connection with me, you would still be a part of my life as well, regardless. I wanted to extend that knowledge to you as well."

Commander Fox nodded once again. His eyes glanced towards Bail, to see his reaction, and when there was none too large, his eyes returned to Breha.

"I do accept this connection", he said. "I wish you accept my will for it to remain a private matter."

"Of course", Breha said. "Currently only us three, and my closest advisor know about this. It will not spread any further against your wishes."

"Thank you", Commander Fox said. There was a brief spout of contemplative silence once again, before he spoke. "I wasn't sure if I ever wanted to know who shared a mark with me, but if it had to be anyone, I am grateful for it to be you. You have always been respectful of me and my brothers."

They were kind words. Another small opening, though Breha could sense that they were aimed more towards Bail.

"We appreciate your admission", Bail said, clearly sensing the same as Breha. "It is the respect you and your brothers are entitled to, though I understand why it seems like an act you ought to feel grateful for."

"We are not entitled to anything", Commander Fox said. "We are here to serve the Republic. That is our duty."

"It is a great duty", Bail said. "One that you are doing admirably. You are still all people, and you are entitled to be treated as such."

Breha saw how Commander Fox's jaw clenched, ever so slightly. Otherwise, his expression didn't change.

She wondered if he had ever heard anyone say those words to him while looking him in the eyes, without the helmet in between.

"The Republic disagrees", he said. It was a firm statement, said with conviction.

"The Republic is wrong in many cases", Bail said. "No system is ever flawless. That doesn't mean the good parts are not worth being heralded. I serve the Republic, too, and I am serving it by trying to make it a better place for us all, and that includes you and your brothers."

"There is a war to be won", Commander Fox said. "And it is not won by being nice."

"It is not", Bail agreed. "But it is also not won by sacrificing everything for one goal."

That answer seemed to satisfy Commander Fox, or at least it gave him something more to think about. Breha had never really enjoyed politics as themselves too much, but she had to admit that she had found the conversation in front of her fascinating.

Commander Fox was a notable man even with his helmet on, and even more so without it.

"We all serve the Republic", Breha said, making Commander Fox's attention snap back to her. "We all serve the people in it. We are all making sacrifices, some of us bigger than others. I do believe that you and your brothers are making the greatest sacrifice of them all. Even if you do not think of yourself being entitled to the respect that belongs to every person, I wish that you would at the very least believe in the respect that belongs to you for that. I wish to pay my respects for you and your brothers and on your sacrifice, no matter for how noble of a cause it is. We all serve the Republic, but let us also serve you in return."

Commander Fox leaned back ever so slightly on his seat. He looked a bit surprised, if Breha had to determine his emotions from his expression.

"Do you believe that necessary?" He asked her. He did sound accusing this time, though Breha couldn't blame him for it. She was contesting his entire reason for his existence, after all.

"I do", she said. "What does it say about us all, if we would be comfortable with accepting your sacrifice without graditute? What else would we be comfortable accepting then?"

Commander Fox looked at her for a moment. Breha didn't turn to look away. If he was resolute, so was she. There were things she could not or would not compromise upon, and he could accept them or not, and Breha would accept his decision, not change hers. Not on this.

Finally, Commander Fox seemed to come into decision.

"We all serve the Republic", he said. "I will serve it by fighting for it, and you will serve it by upholding it."

"Yes", Bail said. "This war will not make the Republic into a place where it is acceptable to shed blood to bind the foundations of it together."

"On that we can all agree, then", Commander Fox said. "My brothers will not die in vain."

"They will not", Breha promised. "I promise that with my integrity as a Queen. And I will promise you, as your soulmate, that I shall do the best by you."

"I promise you the same", Bail said. "I swear on it, as I swore to be a Senator and seek for the betterment of us all, and I swear to you, as your soulmate, to be what you need me to be for you."

Commander Fox looked at them, his mouth opening once but his voice remaining quiet. He looked conflicted, Breha thought, but that only lasted for a brief moment.

It was replaced then with another resolution, but there was a shadow of resignation on his face, too.

"My place is with my brothers", he said. "I cannot promise you the same."

"That is alright", Breha said. "Like I said, we will serve you all, as you serve the Republic. Take this as part of our service, for you."

Commander Fox relaxed, ever so slightly, like he was relieved. Breha didn't blame him, as she could imagine, had it been her there instead of him, she would've definitely been relieved.

"Thank you", Commander Fox said. Breha smiled at him.

"We should be thanking you", she said. "It has been wonderful to meet you."

She meant it. Commander Fox was a notable man. Intelligent, loyal, dutiful. It the Force had made it's decision to give Breha and Bail a connection to him, she would serve that will to its fullest.

For Commander Fox himself, and for all of his brothers. There was no singling him out, not when he shared his place and fate with them all.

Breha would serve him, and she would serve them all.

"The pleasure has been all mine", Commander Fox said, polite and mellow, and Breha was suddenly struck with a wish to keep the conversation going, still, to see what else there would be to talk about between them all, to see more of how they would all be able to fit in with each other.

It was then, though, when the comlink attached to Commander Fox's armor started to blink, and he stood up from the couch.

"I'm afraid I have to take my leave now", he said, reaching to grab his helmet from the couch, where it had been sitting next to him. "I am needed elsewhere."

"That is quite alright", Bail said. "It was truly a pleasure to speak with you, Commander. I hope that we could speak more, some other time. I wish you good luck on your duties."

Breha rose from her seat, and Bail followed suit.

"I wish the same", Breha said. "I won't be staying on Coruscant for much longer, but would you agree on having my contact with you, so you could speak with me while I'm on Alderaan, if you ever feel the need to do so?"

Commander Fox tilted his head ever so slightly, looking a bit curious by her request momentarily, before he caught himself and straightened his posture again.

"If you wish so", he said. He took the contact chip from Breha when she offered it to him, and then he rolled his shoulders back. "Thank you, Your Majesty, Senator, for your time."

He bowed his head, so polite and so proper, like he had been practicing it beforehand. Maybe he had been.

"Thank you, Commander Fox", Breha said. "I hope to speak with you again soon."

Commander Fox straightened his back.

"Likewise", he said. "Goodbye."

Then he turned around and pulled his helmet over his head in one, swift motion, and with a few long strides, he was out of the office.

Breha watched as he disappeared from her view as the door slid close after him, leaving only her and Bail standing there.

It was quiet for a moment, before Bail drew in a deep breath.

"I feel like", he said, looking at the door, "whatever happens next, will change us all."

Breha couldn't agree more.

She looked down, at her hand, and at the three flowers on her wrist, with their petals interlocked with each other.

There was a reason, a reason the Force has spent a long time deciding upon, for the connection between them, evident by the marks they all carried on them.

Whatever that reason was, Breha would fullfill it.

[beatrice-otter]

I really like John Scalzi's analysis of the whole wtfery of this. (I'm not a great fan of his books, I think he's really overrated as a novelist, but his political commentary and commentary on the SF/F world is interesting.)

I think he has a good point about how while the initial panic about his bad performance at the debate was genuine (and if he'd done better, he'd never have withdrawn), but also that once there was panic, he decided how to manage things to maximize Harris' chances at both getting the nomination and winning the election.

Consider that the announcement was made on the Sunday after the Republican National Convention, and after the Sunday morning political talk shows were put to bed, i.e., after the GOP political capital was spent slagging Biden, and when professional spinners would be caught flat-footed by the announcement. Biden’s news was quickly followed by his endorsement of Kamala Harris, which in turn was followed by a flood of endorsements for Harris across the Democratic political firmament, effectively slamming the door on any serious challenge to Harris at the upcoming Democratic National Convention. If you think something like that just happens spontaneously, well, one, bless your heart, and two, you’re wrong. This was a work, a rope-a-dope, and a strategy to energize the Democratic base and to toss what little momentum the GOP had coming out of their convention down a deep, dark hole. And it worked! Harris raised an huge amount of money for her campaign in its first day — $49 million at least, and I’ve heard up to $70 million — and the GOP messaging was in disarray, limited largely to Trump whining on Truth Social, Stephen Miller freaking out on Fox News, and Mike Johnson trying to suggest that the Democrats can’t do that, it isn’t fair. Which is just what the Democrats wanted out of this. ... The current iteration of the GOP has been mask-off racist and sexist for some time, and Donald Trump sets the tone for the party on this score. Be expecting the whole array of nonsense from them, from dog whistles to flat out racist and sexist shit, said out loud, and also all over the former Twitter by Trump’s pet fascists and/or Russian bots. I guarantee you it will be nothing Kamala Harris has not heard before, but you might see a couple of new ones. The GOP outsourced their policy making to The Heritage Foundation with its Project 2025, which is already deeply unpopular, probably because it’s terrible for anyone who is not already a billionaire cryptofascist with a cross fetish. The GOP can’t go after Harris on policy grounds, and Trump doesn’t do policy anyway. So expect endless variations of she’s an uppity black woman for the next several months. ... Also, Biden has manifestly changed the narrative around both himself and his presidency. I didn’t want him to stop running for re-election, but choosing to do so allows for a “country over self” positioning that’s a hugely effective contrast to Trump’s “I’m running to avoid prison and to get revenge” narrative. It also allows a fresh reframing of the Biden administration’s achievements and accomplishments, and positions Harris to say she will continue them. Biden can lean into the whole “Grandpa Joe” thing now, and have it seen as a positive rather than a negative. ... To put it another way, after eight years, we know what the hard cap is on Trump’s support. We don’t know what the cap is yet for Harris’ support. History does suggest that cap is higher than Trump’s.

[jtl-fics]

Math Nerd AU

I’ve got quite a few time travel AFTG fics banging around in my head but by far the funniest one is this:

Neil dies in 40s to a drunk driver after a respectable professional Exy career, two olympic golds, a very successful and healthy relationship, a steady post-injury career as Ichirou Moriyama’s preferred accountant (kept himself squeaky clean) and years to get his shit together. He wakes up back early on into his runaway life with his mom and is immediately like “oh no I’m NOT doing this shit again.”

He makes a lot of changes, mostly for Andrew’s benefit but also gets Mary to the Hatfords, and gets himself set up in Ichirou’s confidence again because man he’s gonna play Exy again but Ichirou was actually a very solid boss if you’re competent and Neil is very good at managing finances.

Ichirou had plans for Neil. He’s waiting for his father to pass before he brings Neil fully out in the open as one of his since his father is still demanding that the Wesninski heir be given over to his brother and Ichirou is not about to let the only accountant who has ever gotten him a completely legal tax refund go to the NEST. He’s also not about to let the Butcher near Neil so he puts Neil off in the middle of nowhere with a steady paycheck and orders to graduate highschool. Neil picks Millport.

Hernandez still notices that no one ever comes to Neil’s games and that the kid is driven but doesn’t make any real attachments with his teammates despite Millport becoming the Arizona State Champs the year Neil leads the team. So he sends tapes to Wymack and Kevin. Neil is surprised to see them since he’d planned on never getting anywhere near Andrew after he set things up for the blond. (Killed Drake, paid some people to legally adopt and look after Andrew, got CPS to investigate Tilda properly, paid off the right people so that the couple who took in Andrew took in Aaron too, and paid for them to move out to SC (it’s close to the twins remaining family) and then Tilda managed to die on her own from an OD and the twins got the money without Andrew needing to have any part in it.)

Neil ends up signing for the Foxes despite Ichirou having plans for Neil to start attending University of Texas (Great Accounting Program) in the fall. Neil of course completely fails to tell Ichirou this since Ichirou hadn’t said anything beyond finishing highschool and if he had plans for Neil then he should have told him.

Neil, the utterly self-sufficient adult that he is, proceeds to just be the most bizarre stabilizing force the foxes have ever encountered. He knows all about their shit, their issues, their triggers, and how to help them. The Foxes all kind of crave that stability and Neil can take whatever they say unflinchingly. He’ll give as good as he gets but he also makes team breakfast pretty much every morning after he finishes his absurdly early run. Kevin is in heaven with his Striker pick (Neil in this thing is so incredibly boring and well-adjusted that Andrew just cannot believe that he’s a spy so Kevin and Neil start night practices almost immediately & Neil shows Kevin drills that he and Future!Kevin had made and Kevin is just like “I am so good at picking talent. I am a god.”)

The 3 things that make this so funny (at least to me) is:

1. All the Foxes just like not understanding why the hell Neil is a Fox (They’re glad he’s there but it feels like a clerical error that such a nice well-adjusted guy is on the team) until they see him without a shirt and until immediately after the Kathy Ferdinand show where Ichirou shows up and is like “Palmetto doesn’t even have a nationally ranked accounting program!? Also what if this sport gives you a TBI and you can’t do my taxes anymore????”

2. Andrew is just inexplicably and infuriatingly smitten, enamored, crushing, heart-eyes for this BORING ASS MATH NERD. Neil’s sense of humor was honed against Andrew so he’s got like a direct line to Andrew’s funny bone. He never has never once for even a second confused Aaron and Andrew (and they’re a lot closer in this fic because there’s no Tilda angst and the ‘parents’ handled getting Aaron’s rehabilitation handled off the books so he could have a future in medicine.) Even after the whole mob accountant reveal Andrew is seething because even with that Neil is just incredibly well-adjusted and normal despite all the insane shit going on with him. He propositions Neil when Neil mentions having a past male significant other but Neil has the AUDACITY to get all sad-eyed and say that he can’t be with Andrew because his heart still belongs to some CHUMP in his past. (Cue Current!Andrew having an unknowing bitter hatred / rivalry of Future!Andrew and swearing that he’ll woo Neil away from a guy who’s probably in the mob or shitty because Andrew hasn’t seen any evidence of Neil’s SO reaching out to him but he knows Neil isn’t lying)

3. One of the reasons that Andrew is inexplicably and infuriatingly attracted / smitten to Neil is that Future!Andrew did not really spend a lot of time in the future after Neil died and he’s slowly seeping through until Neil’s confrontation with his dad and then Future!Andrew fully wakes up and he’s PISSED because at least in the original timeline Andrew was inexplicably and infuriatingly attracted to the mysterious freshmen who was hiding his appearance, looked like he was seconds away from running across the country at all times, and had a whole aura of danger around him. Now he’s revealed that he’d have fallen for Neil no matter what because he fell for Neil when he was just a BORING ASS MATH NERD and WORST OF ALL Neil went and made him jealous of HIMSELF because Neil didn’t want to cheat on Andrew with ANDREW. What an asshole. He’s gotta kiss his entire face off and tell him that he’s never allowed to cross a street without Andrew again because if a drunk driver is going to take one of them out then it’s going to take BOTH of them out.

[gloomwitchwrites]

Rainy Reunion

Aragorn x Female Reader

Dedicated to @protosslady

Content & Warnings: light angst, reunion after a long absence, yearning, kissing, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 2.6k

Aragorn left nearly a month ago with no vow to return. But a great shadow moves across the land, and Aragorn returns to make sure you have not been swept up by the darkness.

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist

The rain outside is soft and warm, and it patters gently against the top of the tent. It’s the kind of rain that finds its way into the worst places. A steady rain that starts to saturate anything and everything it touches. The sort of rain that manages to slip down to the bottom of the insides of your shoes, soaking your socks and making each step a wet squelch.

Within the tent, near a low-burning candle, you flip through the pages of your book. The pages are worn and yellowed. The cover and binding are starting to come apart, the paper threatening to fall out, but you don’t dare retire it for something newer. This book is well-loved, and for good reason. It is one of the few things you carry that belong to the man that walked away from you.

Other than your tent, the rest of the camp is at rest. It is still in the early hours of the morning, the sun just starting to dawn, and most of the camp’s residents still slumber in their bedrolls and cots. Traveling has been a long and difficult journey.

A dark shadow moves across the land, pushing people from their homes. Your village left everything behind, moving with a great sea of people away from the coming darkness. There is no home for you to go to except the road. What little possessions you took with you are the ones in this tent.

But there are many things you left behind, including your heart. You wrapped it up and left it to wither for the ranger you might never see again. That man, whose name you only learned while tangled up in each other, is made for the wilderness. He is made for nature and adventure. You do not begrudge him for it.

It was never meant to last between the two of you.

Aragorn, Strider as others call him, left without a word. You knew it would happen. He told you it would, but the parting still hurt even if you had prepared yourself for it. The pain is a sharp dagger against ripe fruit, cutting through in a smooth, clean stroke. Though it has been nearly a month, it is all still fresh as if he left only yesterday.

You turn a page in your book, shivering slightly from the cold. The rain might be warm but the air has the faintest hint of chill, making the dampness in the air stick to your skin. There are others who are likely worse off than you. The tent you have is relatively warm, and you have blankets to spare.

There is a rustling near the tent opening, a soft sound like a small animal sniffing about. It draws your attention away from the ink on the page. You expect to hear or even see the outline of a fox or some other small creature. Instead, low morning light filters in, obscuring the features of the man standing there.

Not an animal, which entirely surprises you. The shadowed man lingers in the opening of the tent, and then he steps inside. You’re about to bolt up, to berate this stranger for walking in without your permission. But, once that flap falls into place, and the light from the candle hits the man’s face, your muscles seize up.

It is a dream. The man standing before you is an image plucked from your imagination.

“Aragorn,” you murmur, mostly to yourself.

He stands tall in the small space and yet seems so unsure. He looks nervous, as if you’ll run him off for entering. It’s so different from the man you’ve known. In your presence, Aragorn was always confident.

“Am I intruding?” he asks softly as if he already has one foot out the tent. You don’t want him to leave.

You stand, clasping your hands in front of you. “No. You’re not intruding.” The only thing you’re wearing is the off-white nightdress you sleep in and a large wool blanket that’s draped over your shoulders. It’s entirely too intimate for a visitor, especially a man.

“This is a surprise,” you say, because it is. Aragon left. You never expected him to return.

“I know,” he replies softly in acknowledgement.

The pain roils up, and it’s difficult to push it back down. Some of it leaks out. “You left without saying goodbye.”

Aragorn takes a step forward. “I’m sorry.” The space is small and he’s almost on top of you.

Is he sorry? He said he would leave, that he couldn’t stay with you. While you don’t resent him for leaving, the separation still hurts, and you’re not sure how much of an apology you actually deserve.

You step around the apology, not wanting to linger there. “How did you find me?”

He glances at the candle and book. Aragorn’s features soften as his gaze falls on the worn cover. The book is his. You didn’t take it, and he didn’t truly gift it. Aragorn left it—whether on purpose or by accident—but you’ve carried it all this time.

Aragorn smiles softly, and your heart melts down to your feet. “You still have it.”

“It’s an entertaining read.”

His gaze returns to your face. “The rangers I ride with have been following at a distance,” he finally answers. “A darkness is sweeping across the land, and we’ve been watching all the people fleeing its reaching hands.” Aragorn pauses a moment before continuing. “I was unaware you were here until I heard about your village.”

“Is that why you’re here in this tent? You came looking for me?”

Aragorn nods. “I did. I feared—” He steps forward and then pauses, his hand curling into a fist like he’s resisting the urge to touch you.

“What did you fear?” you whisper as the chill begins to ease.

Aragorn swallows. “That the shadow had found you, and I was too late.”

“The shadow did not find me.” Aragorn is so close. Within reach.

Hesitantly, you lift your arm and allow your fingers to brush against his rain-drenched cloak. Aragorn glances down at your hand, and then he is moving, taking your hand in his. You do not pull away. You do not draw back.

He is so warm. A bright spot of light that you wish to take into yourself. He lifts your hand to his face and proceeds to kiss each of your fingers. Aragorn rotates your wrists and kisses your open palm. Every movement and kiss is purposeful. Drawn out.

You want to berate him. You want to tell him to leave. But you don’t. You can’t. Instead of pulling back or pushing him away, you step closer. Aragorn accepts this easily, sliding one arm around your waist to hold you close.

The rain on his cloak is of little significance, even as it starts to seep into your nightdress. Aragorn is here, and he is holding you, which is all that matters.

He closes the distance and you meet him greedily, wanting to remember how the two of you come together. Your lips meet, and all those happy flashes of memory stir up like a storm and batter your brain like waves against rock. Kissing Aragorn is natural, and returning to it is easy. Like the two of you never stopped.

It is not a heated, desperate thing, but soft and lovely, the two of you coming together until you’re both breathless and smiling. Hands roam, and it is you that undoes his rain-soaked cloak, but Aragorn who allows it to fall. Your hands continue to touch, both over and under clothing. His skin is hot against your palm, and that only ignites a deep fire within you.

The wool blanket around your shoulders disappears, guided by Aragorn as he tosses it onto your cot. The dull tiredness of sleep is gone, replaced by a growing need to be with him in the closest way possible.

The rain that is in his hair and on his skin drips onto you until your eyelashes and cheeks are speckles with them. They are little gifts to you. Pieces of him that you are accepting and taking for yourself. It does not matter that you or he might wipe them away, or that they might dry. You are desperate for anything.

You are content with just this—kissing Aragorn as the rain falls gently outside. But now, with your bodies pressed close, it’s hard to ignore what you want. This separation is a wound that needs stitching, and kissing Aragon is the thread.

His hand brushes against your waist through the nightdress and you desperately want him to go lower. You want him to explore the places he’s already been, rediscovering them and the way he makes you feel.

“I’m sorry I’ve been away for so long,” whispers Aragorn, his fingertips grazing across the water droplets that now line your cheek. His other hand dips between your legs, seeking what you’ve been after. The sensation is maddening.

You whimper, hips bucking as he strokes you through your clothes. Aragorn is enjoying it too. He tugs on your dress and kisses your shoulder where it slips to expose skin. Water drips onto your skin from his hair, running in a line down your bare shoulder to below the neckline of your dress. Aragorn leans in and licks up the droplets.

It’s lovely, and you want more of him. You need him everywhere.

“I want you,” you whisper. “But I am cross with you for not saying goodbye.”

Aragorn sighs and rests his forehead against yours. “How can I make amends? I do not wish to lose you.”

Your fingers dig into the fabric of his tunic. “Will you stay with me a bit? Can you give me what you are able?”

“You shall have it,” comes his response. Aragorn’s voice is low and raspy.

He smiles, as much with his eyes as with his mouth, and leans forward to kiss your neck. He starts slow, removing the rest of his rain-drenched outwear, hanging it up to dry in the corner along with the cloak that fell to the tent floor. Once done, he returns to you, his hand sliding over and down your nightdress.

Aragorn’s words drip with lust when he speaks again. “Do you want to take it off or should I do it for you?” He tugs lightly on the fabric, making his intention clear.

You inhale sharply, momentarily surprised by his forwardness. Aragorn’s hand slips beneath your neckline. His eyes search your face but you do not answer with your voice. Instead, you press into him, and Aragorn takes that as an invitation. He guides the dress over the other shoulder, letting the fabric fall to your waist.

“To be graced with your beauty again is a precious gift,” he whispers when you’re bare to him.

Your hands fist his tunic again, tugging, and Aragorn doesn’t need to ask to know what you want. He removes it quickly, and then he is bare from the waist up too. From there, the two of you remove the rest. For you, it’s a simple sway of the hips before the rest of the nightdress drops to the floor. Aragorn has much more to remove, staring with his mud-splattered boots and pants.

Once gone, and the two of you are entirely bare for each other, his arms go around your waist, guiding you down to the small cot that has been your bed for the last month. You run a hand over his bare chest, admiring the broad muscles and strength beneath your palm. Your fingers trace over scars, some that are old and faded, and others that are fairly new and still a bit red from healing.

Aragorn seizes your roaming hand and presses a kiss to the open palm. From there, he kisses your wrist, your inner forearm, the dip of your elbow, and then up to the curve of your shoulder. Those lips of his brush against the skin between shoulder and throat, venturing upwards to your neck to tease and suck at the skin there.

“You deserve more than this, especially after such a long absence,” he murmurs just before pressing a delicate kiss against the spot right behind your ear.

“It is you that caused it,” you murmur, turning your head enough that you find his lips.

Aragorn hums against your mouth in agreement.

When he kisses you again, it is with great care and attention, like you are the most precious gift. Nothing is rushed, and Aragorn does not push for more. He lingers in the moment, savoring your scent and taste. There is an urgency, a remembrance of how much joy the two of you shared together, but Aragorn does not dive in to seek only for himself.

You are a priority for him, and your mutual enjoyment is all that matters.

Aragorn is atop you, caging you against the small cot. Your legs are spread, thighs pressed against his hips. His hand slides up to cup the bottom of your face, and his thumb strokes over your cheekbone. With deliberate slowness, he takes your lower lip between his teeth and bites down just hard enough to pull a little whiny sound from you.

It’s a reminder of all those secret nights together, with the two of you wrapped up, seeking warmth and comfort.

His mouth follows his hand at it travels downward. Aragorn kisses the space between your breasts. He traces your skin with his tongue, circling and teasing until your back arches and your core floods with pleasure. Then he moves lower, strong hands gripping your waist as you squirm beneath him. His eyes meet yours and they are dark. Sensual.

The rain is a distant, soft pattering. His hair is still wet and water drips from the end. Some of it clings to his face and neck. Aragorn’s lips are parted slightly as he watches you.

“Please don’t go,” you whisper. “Please.”

Aragorn kisses you, nips at your bottom lip. “I won’t,” he replies. “I promise.”

He keeps that promise.

Aragorn’s hand slides between your legs and seeks out that delicate bundle of nerves. His fingers circle it, culling the tingling vibration of pleasure that swirls in your belly. Then, those fingers slide down, and breach your body, spreading you open.

Your nails dig into his lower back, and Aragorn groans softly, his face falling against your neck as he pumps his fingers. Your legs fall open a bit wider, and wider still until you’re lost to him rubbing on that sensitive flesh and working those fingers in and out of you.

The end comes fast and perfect, rippling up your spine only to spike down to your core where you clench around his fingers. You whimper his name, and the last of it is swallowed by his mouth as he kisses you.

Then his fingers are gone, and his hardness is pushing in, spreading you open, splitting you apart until your nails rake down his back and he’s seated to the hilt. Aragorn holds there, not moving, the two of you breathing heavily.

Aragorn does not move until your breathing slows. He rolls his hips in short movements that are just a tease, a way to acclimate from the time apart. But your body begins to remember, and when it does, Aragorn is relentless, reminding you of every sensual night that you’ve been endlessly dreaming off.

The candle is nearly out. Almost gone. It’s light so dim that the tent is mostly shadow.

Aragorn hits deep, and your thighs quiver around his waist. You tighten around him, a little aftershock hitting you, and that takes him over the edge.

The candle goes out, but the rain remains.

A small slit in the tent flap reveals the light gray sky, and its light slashes across Aragorn’s face.

And he still keeps his promise. He does not dress or attempt to leave.

Aragorn sinks against you, limbs entwining, and for now, you can have him.

taglist:

@foxxy-126 @glassgulls @km-ffluv @firelightinferno @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @protosslady @childofyuggoth @coffeecaketornado

[ghoststyles]

Fairway to Heaven - Part 2

WC: 12.5K

awe yeeeeah here we go. One ticket to smut town. Read at yo own risk!

TW: talks of death, Harry is so d*ddy in this I’m shaking, agegap

yes, daddy, I will 

Read Part 1

~

Sunday morning, as promised, Briar is working the cart on the back course. She includes an additional bottle of Casamigos in her first fill of the day, just in case. To spice up the early morning rounds, she added string lights to her cart. They cast a pink hue over her face as the sun finishes rising.

Briar loves her outfit today. A white, fitted skort with a long-sleeve lavender zip up. She used self-tanner, last night, so her skin is tanned and glowing.

She spots Harry on the practice putting green as she pulls out of the garage. She looks down at her watch. He’s really here at 7:15 AM on a Sunday? Dedication. His long legs are covered by light khaki pants that hug him in the right places, and a navy blue long sleeve.

It seems they’re the only two souls on the course right now. Perfect. She slowly approaches the green, in hopes for redemption. She throws the cart in park and hops out to greet him on the other side.

“Hi, Harry,” Briar says, offering him a shy smile. “Can I grab you anything?”

Harry smiles, putting his putter bag in his bag. He throws both hands in his pockets and begins to walk over to her.

“Morning, Briar. S’early, are they paying you extra to come out here?”

“No, just out here out of the goodness of my heart to serve the dedicated players who are practicing at 7AM on a Sunday,” she teases, finally making direct eye contact with him.

He smirks, placing his hand on the top of the cart and leaning closer to her, admiring the new lights she added.

“Well, I have a new incentive to play the back course more often.”

She inhales sharply. “C-can I get you anything?” she repeats herself, after a beat passes.

“No, thanks, love. I’d better wait for Niall. Plus, it’s a bit early for the hard stuff.”

“I have coffee and orange juice, too!” she squeaks, eyes widening as she recognizes her outburst.

He smiles and says, “Coffee sounds great. Do you have cold brew?”

“Yep! Do you want any cream or sugar?”

“No, thanks. Black is just fine.”

She pours the cold brew into her signature lavender cup. She holds out her cup of colorful bendy straws for him to choose from. He opts for a teal straw with a dolphin charm. She smiles at his choice.

His large hands grasp the cup tightly. She notices the small cross tattoo on his left hand, along with what appears to be an anchor peeking out under his sleeve. During their unfortunate run-in, she didn’t have time to take inventory of every tattoo. She’d jump at the chance to examine each one.

It’s not that she’s intimidated by Harry, but the unreadable way he looks at her makes her feel uneasy. He’s smirking at her, seemingly unbothered by the silence.

“Okay, well, I’ll catch up with you and Niall later, then,” She trails off.

“Looking forward to it. Cheers,” he lifts the cup in her direction, much like their second encounter, and saunters back toward his clubs. He places a $20 bill in her jar on his way.

She pauses for a moment, before jumping back into the cart. As she’s pulling away, she hears the sound of Niall’s boisterous voice calling out for Harry. She smiles and continues on the path.

~

After serving a few groups, Briar is ready for a break a little after 1PM. She pulls the cart over in a lightly wooded area overlooking the 14th hole, not quite hidden from view, but certainly off the beaten path. She sighs, pulling her chips and guacamole out of her lunch box, along with her favorite green iced tea.

She is fussing with her phone with her feet elevated on the cart’s front windscreen when she begins to hear a rustling in the woods behind her. It’s not uncommon to come across foxes, groundhogs, deer or even a possum, but they make her weary nonetheless.

She slowly turns to face the sound before seeing Harry pop out behind a tree.

“Hi, love.”

She shrieks, a delayed reaction, after staring at him for 5 whole seconds.

He chuckles, raising his arms in defense. “Sorry, sorry. I didn’t think I’d scare you.”

“How’d you see me, anyway?” She asks, looking around the empty area.

“I came over this way to look for my— Niall — Niall’s ball,” he stumbles, scratching his head at the nape of his neck.

She smiles, knowing he’s full of shit. He just doesn’t want to admit he made a terrible shot.

“Well, hope you don’t have to look too hard.”

He snorts, “Thanks. Hey, while I’m here, can I grab some drinks for us?” He asks, craning his neck to see her snack on the bench of the cart. “Oh shit, are you on a break? I won’t bother you, then.”

“It’s no bother. What would you like?”

“Mich Ultra for Niall, and you can surprise me for mine, thanks,” he smiles sheepishly.

He smiles as she pours his usual Casamigos on the rocks with a lime. Maybe one day she’ll give him a splash of grapefruit or pineapple juice to mix it up.

“S’no problem. Have a good rest of your round,” she smiles.

“Thanks, Birdie, I’ll need all the luck I can get,” he says, placing a $50 bill in her tip jar before walking away with the drinks.

She calls after him, a bit stunned, “Birdie?”

“Yeah, been getting a lot of birdies since I’ve been seeing you out here. You’re my good luck charm. Should’ve started playing the back course ages ago.”

She smiles softly, staring down at her shoes as he walks off. The twisting feeling in her stomach from the pet name makes her dizzy. She sits down to finish her snack and scroll Instagram for a few more minutes before continuing on her way.

Harry finally bought drinks from her, instead of Niall! She drums her knuckles on the steering wheel and sets off towards the clubhouse. She’s grateful he chose not to bring up the run-in after the steam room. Based on their most recent interactions, she’s ready to put that behind her.

She sees Cam on the side of the garage, hitting her vape before shoving it in her pocket.

“Don’t you dare tell Patrick you saw me doing that,” she threatens.

“What do I care? I told him when I started he can’t use me as a spy,” Briar reasons. “Doesn’t everyone in the service industry smoke anyway?”

“Yeah, but there is no three strike rule at Wynnewood. One time and you’re done. Even if you’re seen overly fraternizing with a member, you’re out of here.”

Briar inhales, “Oh, really? Does that happen a lot?”

“I’d say once a summer there is some sort of inappropriate hook-up. Just hasn’t happened yet,” Cam smirks.

Briar nods, staring off toward the restaurant.

“Hey, let me know if you want to grab an early dinner with me after your shift. Dominic promised me a free meal because I’m working a double on Father’s Day.”

“Oh, nice. Yeah, I’ll join,” she smiles, wondering if she’ll cross paths with Harry as they’re finishing their round.

~

The course emptied out significantly by 3PM, so Dominic let Briar off early. She decides to use the extra time to shower and bask in the club’s deluxe amenities. She changes into an outfit she keeps in the back of her Jeep, a pair of white linen pants and a cream, fitted tank top. She ties a cashmere sweater over her shoulders to get the country club look. It’s conservative enough, but walks the line of the dress code.

Her hair is perfectly fluffy after using the Dyson Airwrap, the $600 hair tool that lives freely in the women’s locker room. She touched up her make up, adjusting it slightly now that she’s in front of members at the club.

She turns town the hallway, close proximity to her run-in with Harry, where she sees her uncle chatting with another man. He pats Patrick on the back and continues toward the locker room.

Patrick smiles, placing a hand on her shoulder blade, “Hey, Briar bear! How was your day?”

“Good, started off busy and tapered off, I think the hot weather has people…” she trails off as Harry comes into view, his face stoic as he sees her in close proximity to Patrick.

“Hey there,” Patrick says to Harry.

Harry looks Patrick up and down before giving him a slight nod, “Hello.”

Unable to sit through an awkward silence, Briar interjects, “This is Harry, ‘ve been serving him over the last few weeks on the course. Harry, this is my Uncle Patrick. He’s the golf pro here, actually.”

A look washes over Harry’s face. Is it relief?

“Ah, how’re you doing, mate?” he says, shaking Patrick’s hand. “My buddy Niall swears by your techniques. Maybe you should tone it down. He’s getting closer to beating me everyday,” Harry laughs.

“Yes, Niall! Nice guy. His form has come a long way,” he smiles, looking back at Briar. “I hope you’ve been taking care of my niece out there.”

“Of course. We’ve been calling her our beer angel,” Harry says.

“I’ve been told she’s pretty persuasive. Maybe it’s the generous portions,” he cracks a smile, tousling her hair a bit. “She’s a great addition to the course. She even helped me make a list of members who haven’t taken a session with me. I think you might be one of them.”

Briar’s cheeks heat up. Ugh! Harry is going to find out that’s how she got his name to look him up online. Patrick has a way of embarrassing her without even realizing.

“Hey, speaking of, why don’t you set a time up with me sometime this summer. You probably don’t need it, but you never know, you could always learn something.”

“That sounds great, Patrick, thanks. Well, I’ve got to meet a few people for an early dinner, so I’ll see you both some other time,” Harry smiles softly, gazing at her a beat longer than at Patrick.

“Bye, Harry. Nice to meet you,” Patrick says, oblivious to the burning tension between the two.

Patrick and Briar part ways for a lesson he’s late for. Patrick teaches school aged girls golf every Sunday evening to encourage more of them to get out on the course.

She continues on to the main dining room, poking her head in the door to say hello to the evening kitchen staff. She spots Cam at a table in the corner, perched on one of the comfy leather chairs.

“I love this table, you can people watch for hours. Sometimes I like to narrate what I see,” Cam laughs, drawing Briar’s attention to where she’s pointing.

“There, that lady is like, ‘ugh, I had to take out the Benz instead of the Rolls this afternoon. Can you even believe it?’” Cam says in her most dramatic old lady voice.

“And look, there’s Harry and Niall, I bet they’re planning their weekend hook-ups, like ‘mate, she’s a rocket, she’s totally in t’me’,” She says, in the worst Irish accent Briar has ever heard.

Harry and Niall are leaning against the bar, sipping on their drinks, listening to another man tell an animated story. Harry’s eyes can’t help but gaze in Cam and Briar’s direction.

Briar bursts out laughing, “That was supposed to be Niall?”

“I never said my narrations were good. We can’t all be Snoop Dogg watching Planet Earth.”

“What’s their story, anyway? Are they both single? I’m pretty sure they’re in their 40’s,” Briar asks.

“Mmm, yeah, I think they’re just forever bachelors. I’ve never seen them eat here with women, or have a ring on that finger, for that matter. But, I really don’t know for sure.”

The girls order delicious meals and sip on their cocktails. They’re about to wrap up when their waiter, Isaiah, brings over a bottle of Dom Perignon. Cam’s eyes bug out of her head.

“Zay, what’s this for?”

“Not sure, that member over there, the guy with the brown curly hair, sent it over. If you guys don’t want it, I’ll take it,” Isaiah tries.

“Mmmm, no, don’t think so. We’ll take it. Thanks, Zay,” Cam smiles devilishly. Isaiah pops the cork, pouring two glasses before walking off, pissed he can’t drink Dom P on the clock.

Throughout the interaction, Harry has been staring at their table, waiting for Briar to look over at him. She looks up and smiles shyly. He smirks, raising his glass to her, to which she mirrors his action. Their unspoken sign of gratitude to one another.

“So, when are you gonna hook up with him?” Cam asks, bluntly.

Briar’s eyes bug out, nearly spitting out the champagne, “Huh?”

“Why are you so shocked? Based on what you’ve told me, it sounds like a sure thing,” Cam says plainly.

“I-I thought you said I can get fired for that,” Briar questions.

“Yeah, if you get caught. Just don’t get caught.”

Don’t get caught. Sure.

Secret romances have always been her favorite kind of books. The exhilarating feeling of almost being caught, becoming the talk of the town as the news spreads like wildfire.

She’s all in; though, she questions the implication of being Patrick’s niece. The last thing she wants to do is embarrass him. She put him and her Aunt Meredith through the wringer as a teenager. She’s not looking to repeat her high school and early college antics.

She nods, absently.

Cam and Briar finish up their dessert and champagne, get their employee discounts and pay, before heading off for the night. Briar is exhausted, ready to crawl into bed after showering and taking Gus out for a walk.

As Briar walks to her Jeep, she sees the valet boys pull a black Range Rover out front. She pauses for a moment, waiting to see who’s getting in.

Harry pushes open the heavy oak doors of Wynnewood, alone, taking large strides to get in the driver’s seat of the car. He looks around, spotting Briar, and extends a wave, with a smirk, sending that funny feeling straight to her gut.

She is so fucked.

~

Her break on Monday afternoon is a longer one. The course is empty, only seeing a few golfers here and there. She pulls into the same wooded area where Harry scared the daylights out of her the week prior.

She closes her eyes, throwing her sunglasses over to face to try and make it look like she’s not taking a nap on the clock. She just barely dozes off when she sees someone approaching. Harry.

“Hey, Birdie,” he says, smirking. “Taking a little cat nap on the job?”

“Fishing your ball out of the woods again?” She strikes back. He busts out laughing, the first genuine laugh she’s heard.

He likes that she has some bite to her, and that she can make him laugh. A real laugh. Not the kind he forces out when he’s looking to get his dick wet. He helps himself to a water bottle in the cooler, not wanting to make her get up for him.

“Slide over,” he says, expecting her to make some room on the bench for him. She gawks at him for a moment to analyze his face, but obeys. He plops down, placing an arm behind her on the edge of the backrest.

Briar is frozen in place before asking, “Where’s Niall?”

“I’m not always with him. Even I need a break from him sometimes,” he says, nonchalantly. “Came by myself for some peace and quiet. It’s nice to play with headphones in and listen to a podcast.”

“I can see that. Big personality,” she says, not forgetting about the arm that’s snaked around her shoulders. “What’re you listening to?”

“A finance podcast. Kind of boring, but lately I’ve been too busy to read the news.”

“Yeah, real busy. S’that why you’re out here on a Monday at 11AM?” she says, looking up at him to see his reaction. When meeting new people, she likes to test the waters a bit, making sure their sense of humor syncs up.

He chuckles lowly, sucking his bottom lip in his mouth, shaking his head. “Most of the time I’m here, it’s for business,” he increases the pressure where their bodies are touching. “This trip is for pleasure.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” he says, his face mere inches from her. His eyes are burning holes into the side of her head.

He closes the gap when she finally looks over at him, linking their lips together. His arm moves from the back rest to wrap around her lower back, gently laying his finger tips there. The kiss starts out innocently enough, before Briar pulls away, frantically looking around.

“It’s okay. We’re okay,” he assures her. “Are you okay with this?”

“Yes.”

“Then we’re okay.”

They resume their kiss, Briar now twisted to face him fully. She can taste the gum he must’ve recently chewed. This fucker came to find her for one thing only, she thinks. She doesn’t mind, though.

His right hand reaches down to pet at the soft skin of her outer thigh, now exposed from her skort riding up. She parts her lips to make room for his tongue that begins to shyly explore her mouth. The same hand begins to migrate toward her ass, so she readjusts to where she is perched on the bench in a kneeling position, now nearly eye height with Harry.

She finally reaches her hands out to touch him; her left hand resting on his right pec, and right hand around the nape of his neck. She pulls away, staring straight into his emerald eyes. Her self control is washing away, but she pulls herself together.

“‘M not supposed to have anyone in the cart with me,” she says, doe eyes wide, darting back and forth to read his face.

He busts out another genuine laugh while pinching her thigh, “Is that what you’re thinking about, Birdie?”

She sits back down and her hands go to the steering wheel. “Well, I’m thinking about other things, too, like how you’re a member and I’m an employee.”

He hums, “I think it’s just a divine intervention. Us, being here at this course together as frequently as we are. I’m a member at quite a few places, but this one seems to draw me in more than the others recently.”

Divine intervention? She ponders this, but says nothing. How many country club fees can this guy afford?

“I should probably go,” he says, standing up and stretching after being hunched over in the cart. Her heart sinks at this, but she doesn’t let it show on her face.

“Don’t worry, Birdie, I’ll come back for you,” he says, grabbing her chin like he did in the hallway, placing one last chaste kiss on her lips. “What time does your shift end?”

“Around 3:30.”

“Excellent. Stick around, maybe we can go somewhere this afternoon. I’ll drive us.”

“O-okay. That sounds good.”

“Bye, Birdie,” he says, walking down the path toward the green.

She takes a deep breath to try and regulate her heart beat. It’s already 2:30, so she races back to the clubhouse to try and beg Dominic to let her go early. He gives in, but only if she promises to be the number caller at the next member bingo night.

“Yeah, yeah, sure! Thanks, Dom,” she squeals as she runs off toward the locker room. She spends the extra time preparing for her afternoon with Harry. Her outfit is casual; a white, nearly sheer button down top with light-wash jeans and sandals.

She heads out to her Jeep at 3:37PM. Not too early, not too late. Harry’s car is once again pulled up to the valet stand out front. She watches him head down the stairs, confused, looking around to find where she is.

He changed into his street clothes as well; a pair of cream trousers, white under shirt and a patterned button down. She takes notice of his Vans; an interesting choice for a 40 year old, she supposes.

She waves him over. He acknowledges her and jumps in the car to pull into the spot adjacent to hers. He rolls down the window, perplexed, but motions for her to get in. She rounds the side of the vehicle and steps in.

“I didn’t want anyone to see us,” she says, sheepishly. He understands.

“That’s okay, Birdie. Here, while I drive, go ahead and put your number in my phone. I realized I didn’t grab it when I was looking for you out front.”

Her stomach twists as he hands it to her. She can see his phone is playing Beast of Burden on the Range Rover’s stereo. She carefully types in the numbers, and makes her contact name a simple “🐥” on the off chance someone from the club were to see his phone. And because his nickname for her is fucking adorable.

“I made my name the chick emoji,” she smiles.

“I like that. Thank you. Did you text yourself so you have mine?” he asks.

“Yes. I made yours the fox emoji,” she laughs.

“What? Why?” he questions, alternating looking over at her and the road.

“When you scared me by the woods, I thought it was a fox rustling through the bushes,” she grins. He squawks out a laugh.

“A birdie and a fox. I like it.”

She glances out the window, unsure where he is taking her.

“Where are we going anyway?”

“I thought we could go get drinks and take a stroll through the park. Does that sound good?”

“Yeah,” she smiles, bobbing her head to the Eagles song he has on.

~

Harry is extremely easy to talk to. They got their drinks, paid for by Harry, and walked over to the public garden. Summer is just around the corner, so the lawn is busy with people and the flowers are blooming.

Briar sips on her iced green tea, while Harry nurses a black cold brew. His other hand is in his pocket, but she wouldn’t be mad if he held hers. She’s glad they didn’t go for alcoholic drinks; she finds herself to be less talkative and more anxious if she drinks before a date.

If that’s what they’re calling it.

They walk the perimeter of the garden, talking about everything and nothing, stopping only to look at the ducks swimming and eating grapes thrown by energetic toddlers. Harry learns Briar is a Libra, graduated with honors from Boston College, and one day wants to own an animal sanctuary.

He shares with her his funny college stories, and adventures with Niall since they first became pals in college. He recounts their trip through Indonesia, where they got such bad food poisoning from the street food, they could barely lift their heads to look outside. Only to have the same exact thing happen the following week in Thailand.

As the conversation lulls, Harry’s gaze extends towards a bench off in the distance, tucked away in an alcove of willow trees and flower bushes.

They instinctively walk over in that direction. Briar sits, followed by Harry. Their bodies are pressed together again.

“I keep thinking about earlier today,” he says, fiddling with his hands. She smiles, looking over at him.

“Me too. I wouldn’t mind repeating it.”

“Yeah?” he says, smiling and inching closer to her.

“Yeah.”

Briar closes the gap this time, eagerly kissing into his mouth. Her hand comes up to cup his face. Harry deepens the kiss, using his tongue to explore every inch of her mouth. He eases up, opting to suck on her lower lip. They naturally break apart, her lower lip now red and plump.

“How far do you live from here?”

Harry is taken back by her forwardness. He’s picked up on her blunt nature, but she continues to keep him on his toes. His stomach twists in indecision, not wanting to move too quickly with her. She is, after all, a delicate little bird.

He’s quiet for a beat, surveying the look on her face, “Not far. Why? What’d you have in mind?”

“Well, you said you’re amazing at Scrabble. Let’s see you put some money where your mouth is.”

He smiles brightly, shocked at her answer. “Fine, you’re on. Don’t go crying when my stellar vocabulary comes out.”

He grabs her hand and guides her to stand up from the bench. They follow the path the way they came, passing an ice cream truck.

“Ooh! Do you want to split a cone?” she looks up at him, eyes the size of saucers.

“I’d love to. Which flavor?”

“Mint chocolate chip? Do you like that kind?”

“It’s m’favorite, actually,” he smirks at her, pulling out his wallet to give the worker a $10. He tells her to keep the change as she hands him the small sugar cone.

“We can stay here and eat. I’d hate to get it inside your car,” she says, staring at the black SUV across the street.

She’s sweet, thoughtful, and a little spicy. His favorite combination. He watches as she takes two delicate, kitten-like licks and extending the cone in his direction. He leans in to take his first bite, only for her to shove the cone in his face, causing both of them to erupt in giggles. She blots the napkin on his cheek to remove the mess.

“Fine, if we’re playing like that, don’t mind if I do,” Harry says, taking a large bite of the ice cream and cone, causing her to squeal.

“No! The cone is the best part!” Briar laughs, trying to steal what she can get.

They finish their cone, using Briar’s wet wipes from her bag to clean their hands and faces. Harry grabs her hand once more, guiding them to the car. Briar opts to link their pinkies together as they walk. Harry thinks it’s cute.

Their pinkies are locked for the duration of the drive, Harry dropping them only once to switch gears. They pull up to his place, a beautiful brownstone, clearly renovated in the last few years. His garage door opens as they get closer.

Briar waits for his lead, to which he pads around the front of the car to open her door. He leads her through the door to his mudroom, where he removes his shoes and socks. She follows suit, placing her bag on a hook by the door.

His decor is eclectic; warm, dark wood tones meeting bold colors, where appropriate. His walls are anything but bare; classic rock posters and delicate pieces of art litter every inch.

They arrive in his kitchen; a wide open space with updated appliances and gorgeous quartz stone countertops. His counters are neat, but certainly reflect a man lives there alone; various protein powders and supplements, along with raw fruits and even some tins of baked goods scattered around.

His attention is drawn to the room on the other side of the counter, where he hangs out the most. A TV hangs above the grand soapstone fireplace, where a large, L-shaped sofa resides.

“Head in there, I’ll grab us some water and grab the game.”

She smiles. While she’s happy to play Scrabble with Harry, she wouldn’t have minded he act on the double meaning of her self-invitation to his house. She’ll take what she can get.

Her eyes are drawn to his bookcase, filled with classics, new releases, and everything in between. She even spots Beach Read by Emily Henry. She chuckles to herself. She notices the abundance of Bukowski novels as Harry enters.

“Ya know, it’s a red flag when a guy is reading Bukowski,” Briar teases, running her fingers along the spine of one of the books, aware of Bukowski’s underlying theme of misogyny throughout his works.

“I’ve heard that. I think it matters more what you do with the topics he writes about, than the topics themselves. I read what he says, and go, ‘welp, won’t be doing that,’” he laughs.

He places the board game box down on the expansive coffee table. He doesn’t immediately open the box, in case Briar has other plans. She moves from the bookcase around the coffee table to sit on the sofa a respectable distance from Harry.

“How long have you lived here?” she asks, making note of the tall ceilings.

“5 years. I bought it in dilapidated shape and fully renovated it. The renovations took around 3 years. I lived with my friend, Ben, and his wife while it was being done. They had a nice attic apartment set up for me,” he recalls, smiling to himself.

“That’s really cool. What was your favorite part? The planning, the build, or the designing?”

“A little bit of everything. I was hellbent on keeping the historical integrity of the place, but it really only came to life when the finishing details came in. I’m really proud of the art pieces and trinkets I’ve picked up over the years, so I wanted everything to work well together.”

She hums at his thoughtful answer. “I don’t actually want to play Scrabble, you know.”

He smiles, looking directly at her, “I was hoping you’d say that, but I wanted to be a gentleman.”

She appreciates his honesty, and moves closer on the large sofa. Harry leans in again, this time, nudging her to sit in his lap. She clamors on, straddling over his legs. Their kiss deepens as she begins to strategically move her hips over his crotch.

He speaks between the feverish kisses, “I only wanna do what you're,” he kisses again, “—comfortable with, Briar.”

She pauses when she hears him say her name. She’s gotten used to the pet name, so it catches her off guard. “I appreciate that, but I’m good for anything, Harry.”

A groan catches in his throat. One day, down the line, she’ll wish she never said that. But today, he’s spoiling her in gentle kisses and slow movements. Before he even realizes, she peels herself off of him, kneeling in front of him on the ground and making a move toward his belt buckle. A few of the pillows slid off the sofa with her, creating a soft nest on the floor. He inhales sharply, recognizing there is no turning back in this fling with the beverage cart girl at his country club.

He pets at her hair, collecting the stray strands that lay on her face. She peers up at him, almost asking for permission. He runs his thumb along her cheek, encouraging her to keep going. In a perfect world, he’d be the one to pleasure her first, but there will always be time for that, he supposes.

She releases the buckle while unbuttoning his trousers, revealing his black Calvin Klein briefs. Briar runs her index finger along the length outlined by his underwear. He shudders, holding back a whine.

Briar releases him from the confines, preparing herself to come face to face with his size. She’s not the most sexually promiscuous girl, but she’s not a prude, either. His size intimidates her, she has to admit. Her two previous boyfriends’ dicks paled in comparison to Harry’s. But, she’s proud of her “can-do” attitude, so she continues on.

Briar wraps her small hand around him, eliciting the quietest moan from Harry, who’s patiently watching her from above. She peers back up at him before licking one cohesive stripe from the base to his tip, before swirling her tongue around the very top. She repeats the movement two more times before enveloping him in her mouth.

She nearly moans at the taste of him, plus the delicious girth stuffing her mouth to the brim. Her first move to fit more of him in her throat forces her to breathe through her nose and settle down a bit.

“Taking me so well, Birdie,” he grunts, laying his head back. “So fucking good.”

He can sense her lack of oxygen, so he taps her on the cheek to remind her to breathe. She peeks up at him, a lazy smile on his face. After a few more minutes, he grunts out, “Okay, baby, that’s enough.”

She pulls off of him with a pop, and one more tug for good measure. She stands, placing her hands on his knees, leaning in to kiss him again. He welcomes it, deepening the kiss once more. She loves when men kiss her after oral; she can’t say so about her past boyfriends.

He tucks himself back in his underwear, making her cock her head at him. He stands, pants still unbuckled, grabbing her hand to lock pinkies, assuming he’s leading her to his bedroom. Her suspicions are correct as they climb the staircase in the main entrance, yet another grandiose and impeccably designed room.

His room is the last in the dimly lit hall. She makes note of the hallway’s gallery wall filled with photos of Harry from all years of his life, and a few landscapes she assumes he took himself. She makes a note to ask him about them later.

He opens the door, revealing a cozy, neat bedroom. She can clearly see a balcony straight ahead that overlooks his small garden area out back. He pulls her to stand at the foot of the bed, kissing her.

He reaches to pull his shirt off, tugging it off by the neckline, revealing the tattoos she got a glimpse of at the club.

“Wow, I didn’t get to take a close look at your tattoos last time,” she jokes, running her hands along the mermaid on his forearm.

“You were looking, don’t lie to me,” he teases, placing his tongue in his cheek. He gently reaches out to remove her shirt, to which she complies, pulling it off, leaving her in her bra and trousers.

Harry can’t choose where to look first, her supple breasts, or her toned midsection. He takes a deep breath, before reaching for the button of her pants. She stands, like putty in his hands, allowing him to take control.

When she’s in just her bra and thong, he places his knee in between her legs, nudging her to sit on the bed and lay back. She reaches back to remove her bra, sending her breasts pouring out. Harry has to hold himself back from ogling her.

“So fucking hot. From the moment I saw you,” Harry says, adjusting his pants.

She slides back, awkwardly, until her head is closer to the headboard. He follows, elevating himself by his left arm in a plank position. He drops his knees to either side of her. He shuffles backward so his face is directly above her center. He looks down like a dog eyeing a bone, and gently lowers his face to kiss her on the outside of her underwear.

He plants her feet on the bed and pulls the fabric aside, revealing her glistening core, eyeing it hungrily. He looks back up at her, to which she smiles gently at him, a blissful look on her face. He takes a long lick, from bottom to top, receiving a whine from Briar in response. Her taste is already driving him wild.

She begins to squirm, to which he locks his bicep around her leg to keep her still. He sticks his tongue out, making contact with her clit, while using his other hand to pet her entrance. He looks up, the bottom half of his face buried in her, to see her head thrown back as she holds up her upper body on her elbows.

He inserts his middle finger into her, making her pant and move her leg.

“Relax, Birdie,” Harry says gently, bringing her mind back to him. He circles his tongue around her clit, seeing which side is more sensitive. Her response when he hit her left side tells him his answer. He continues his blunt attack as he feels her tighten around his fingers. He’s since added a second and third digit, lightly curling his finger tips to pet her G-spot.

“C’mon, Birdie, get there,” he encourages, his husky voice pushing her closer to the edge, his breath on her folds making her whine. One more thrust of his fingers has her shivering, turning the build up of pressure in her pelvis into a wave of pleasure. He rides her through it, slowing down his tongue on her clit.

Her facial expression is unreadable. She lowers her head back down to the bed, abruptly pulling her elbows out from under her so she collapses the rest of the way down. He uses this time to readjust himself in his briefs.

“Wow,” she breathes, wiping a little bit of sweat from her forehead. They both stay exactly where they are, catching their breaths, before Harry joins her on the upper portion of the mattress.

He’s laying on his side, hand under his head, creating a triangle with his arm, and gently reaches out to pet her side.

“You good? Do you want to go back downstairs?” He questions, taking note of her current state.

“What? You didn’t come…” she trails off, eyeing his crotch. He looks uncomfortable.

“Hey, it’s okay, I wanted to take care of you,” he assures. She stares at him before kissing him hard, tasting herself on his tongue. He takes that as her answer. Harry maneuvers so he’s above her once more, this time pulling her underwear down her legs, and taking off his own pants and briefs. While she gets comfy, he unwraps and rolls a condom down his cock.

He takes her legs and throws one over his shoulder, placing his hand next to her head. He guides his length so its aligned perfectly with her center. He pushes the bulbous head past the ring of muscle, exhaling as he does so.

“Oh, baby,” he grits out, trying to hold back from vigorously thrusting into her. He reaches out to grab her boob, flicking his thumb over her nipple. She shivers, squeaking out a sensual moan.

“Feels so good, Harry. Start moving please…” she begs, squeezing her eyes shut in pleasure.

He completes a full thrust, staring at her core devouring him. He could watch this all day.  He thrusts quickly, but not hard, hoping to get her to cum one more time. He takes more shallow thrusts before pinching her clit with his thumb and index finger. He can feel her clench around him, making that same blissed out face like the last time.

“Wish you could see how well you take me, sweet girl,” he coos, increasing the pressure.

She grabs his bicep, “There, right there, Harry, ah!” as she rolls into another orgasm.

“Good girl,” he praises, making her absolutely melt below him. He’s thankful it came quick, as he feels himself hit a wall.

He takes one last, long thrust before pouring into the condom. They’re still for a moment as Harry drops down to his forearm, petting the hair out of her face. He gently pulls out, rolling over to stand up and discard the rubber.

By the time he turns around, she is under his top sheet to give a little modesty, leaning against the headboard. He joins her, loosely covering his lower half with the sheet. He reaches out to pet her inner thigh, a touch she appreciates.

“That was…Something,” he laughs, looking over at her. “You’re incredible.”

“Thanks,” she says shyly. They sit in silence for a few minutes, until Harry reaches for his phone on the side table. It’s already well past 9PM. His hand extends to gently tap her thigh under the covers.

“I’d love to have you stay, but I totally understand if you’d rather go home,” Harry says with kind eyes.

“Thanks, yeah, I actually have to get home for my dog. It’s been a long day for him.”

“You didn’t mention a dog! I love dogs,” Harry smiles as she shows him her phone’s lock screen of Gus with his tongue sticking out. “He’s gorgeous.”

“I’ll drive you back to Wynnewood to get your car,” Harry offers, standing to throw his clothes back on.

“That’d be great. Thanks,” Briar responds, rising to go into the attached ensuite. For other hookups, she’d ask to use the bathroom. Something about her interactions with Harry feel natural, putting her at ease.

She can hear him say he’ll wait for her downstairs as she’s finishing up washing her hands. She does her due-diligence, checking the bathroom for signs of another woman; a razor, loofah, sweet smelling body wash. The coast seems clear.

Briar takes her time walking down that same hallway to admire the dozens of photos on the wall. She sees one of Harry with two women, one she assumes to be his sister, and the other, his mom. They’re both gorgeous, like him.

She pads down the stairs to find him at his kitchen island. He smiles, looking up from his phone.

“Ready to go, Birdie?”

“Yeah, I’ll follow you out.”

~

When they arrive at the club, it’s packed with the late night crowd. It’s never not a party at Wynnewood. Harry pulls the car into the same spot, adjacent to her Jeep. She lingers before getting out.

“I had a really nice time with you, Harry,” she smiles shyly.

“Me, too. I’d love to take you out again, or even just hang at mine,” he says earnestly, reaching to grab her hand. “I can give you a call tomorrow to plan something.”

She almost laughs, forgetting Harry is older. Normally, she’d wait for a Snapchat from a hook up, asking, ‘WYD?’

“Sounds good,” she says, leaning in for a quick peck. He gladly obliges. She reaches for the handle, opening the door to the Range Rover. There’s no one outside of the club, except for the valet boys.

“Bye, Birdie,” he says, smiling.

“Bye, Harry.”

She shuts the door and Harry smiles as he watches her unlock and get into her Jeep. He waits until she starts the car successfully. She gives him a cute little wave and carefully pulls forward. He follows her out of the parking lot, only parting to go in their respective directions toward home.

In the distance, a pair of watchful eyes see them leave the parking lot of Wynnewood, making note of the interesting pair.

~

When Harry wakes up the next morning, replaying yesterday’s events in his head, he can barely wipe the smile from his face. He hasn’t felt this way about anyone in a long time. His nights have been filled with hook-ups with housewives in his pilates classes, and PTA moms from his niece’s school. He’s never been one to enjoy random hook-ups, but the last few years have brought significant amounts of stress his way.

Briar is special; full of charm, witty come backs, and all-around gorgeous. He thinks about the first moment he saw her at Wynnewood. Niall finally convinced him to return to the club after several years of bouncing around other courses in the area.

She was smiling brightly, washing the golf carts down with her co-workers. She has a way of bringing fun to even the most mundane tasks. Her golf outfit accentuated her features, matching his years’ long fantasy of hooking up with a girl that golfs. Whether she golfs or not, he’s unsure, but she looks damn cute in everything she wears.

He sends Briar a good morning text before jumping in the shower. She’s already at Wynnewood, filling him in on the drama he’s missing. The members should be featured on a Bravo show; the goings on are pure reality television material.

He spends extra time in the shower, easing his achey muscles. He’s played more rounds of golf in the last month than he has in his whole life, just to increase his chances of interacting with Briar. He feels a tiny, thumb-shaped bruise forming on his bicep, presumably from Briar’s grasp. He smiles.

His work days have been light recently, opting to delegate instead of jumping on the front lines of investing and trading. He’s been a hedge fund manager for a little over ten years, putting in the work to set him up for success for life. Many of his mentors and predecessors retired early, even younger than Harry, but he’s not quite ready to throw in the towel.

He responds to a few emails on his phone before entering his home office. Niall is coming over so they can strategize before a meeting. Their hedge fund used to have an office, but they opted to sell to give their employees the freedom to travel and work from where they please.

He hears Niall come in through the garage and make his way down the hall to Harry’s office. Harry is sat in his leather office chair and gives him a simple nod when he comes in.

“What’d you get up to yesterday?” Niall asks, plopping down in a seat adjacent to Harry’s. Niall and Harry spend an ungodly amount of time together, so he’s not surprised Niall asks this.

Harry hesitates, wondering how much he should share, or if Niall had somehow seen him and Briar yesterday.

“Um, not much, went to Wynnewood for a practice round in the morning, and then some random things in the afternoon,” Harry lies.

“Went to Wynnewood to see your girl Briar?” Niall smirks, crossing his legs at his ankles.

Harry runs his tongue along his teeth, holding back a smile, “Yes, I saw her there. She got me a nice drink and a snack.”

“Sure, buddy,” Niall laughs, pulling out his laptop and a pair of reading glasses.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Harry snaps, furrowing his brow.

“You’re a little obsessed with her, is all. Ever since I got you back to Wynnewood, you’ve gone there hoping you run into her. Why do you think I requested her as our server when we met with Hassan and Jason?”

“I just thought you liked her. She’s a nice girl,” Harry huffs.

“She is a nice girl. If you like her, you should do something about it,” Niall reasons, looking at Harry directly.

“Fine. I took her out yesterday, and we came back here and we fucked.”

Niall’s eyes widen, his mouth falling open at Harry’s confession. He juts his lips out and nods his head as to say, ‘right on’.

“Do you like her?”

“What, Niall? Of course I do. I hope she wants to go out with me again. We’ve already been texting today.”

“Good shit,” Niall seemingly moves on, ready to talk business.

Harry laughs at Niall’s ability to switch gears completely and focus on work. Harry pulls up his slide deck and begins to review his notes from his last meeting.

~

Since her afternoon with Harry, Briar has been on cloud 9. She’s happy she didn’t shy away from Harry’s advances in fear of getting fired.

She woke up early to take Gus on a walk, and to feel out the slight soreness she has between her legs. It stings a bit, but is a nice reminder of Harry. She arrives at Wynnewood at a quarter to 7, ready to conquer the day.

She smiles at Harry’s good morning text, opting to tell him about the gossip she overheard as she passed the tennis courts. The tennis players at the club are way more wild than the golfers.

She heads inside to clock in at the register at the bar, where she finds Cam setting up for the day.

“Hey, B!” she yells.

“Hey, Cam,” Briar smiles, punching in her number. She walks around to lean on the bar.

“Harry and I fucked,” Briar whispers.

Cam’s head whips around, “Holy shit! When? Where?”

“Yesterday, at his place. He picked me up after my shift and we went for a walk at the public garden. Then I told him we should play Scrabble to invite myself over,” she snorts. “He actually got the game out in case I was being serious.”

“Good thing he’s not stupid. Next time you can ‘Netflix and Chill’ him.”

“Yeah, I’ll have to do that,” she giggles. She waves goodbye to Cam before heading back out to load up her cart. She adds another golf pun to her tip jar:

What did the sign above the golf club bar say?

“Don’t drink and drive. Don’t even putt.”

She chuckles to herself, turning on her string lights. She hopes Harry will swing by today. They’ve been texting lightly, but she doesn’t want to come off as clingy. Maybe she’ll call him on her break.

The day goes by as usual, returning to the clubhouse to stock up a few times. When she’s ready for a snack and some time in the shade, she pulls up to the familiar wooded area on near the 14th hole; her and Harry’s spot.

Briar looks around to make sure no one is nearby. She pulls out her phone and scrolls her contact list to find her fox.

Harry answers on the second ring, “Hi, Birdie, how’s your day? I thought I was supposed to call you?”

“Hi, Harry, it’s good. Well, you should assume by now that I’m not the type of girl to wait by the phone,” she teases.

“Silly me, I should have known. My day’s been good; reviewing a few possible investments and lots of emails. Niall just left my place, actually. Since we don’t have an official office anymore, he comes here sometimes.”

Briar hums, smiling to herself. She could listen to him tell stories all day.

“Listen, uh…” he trails off. Is he trying to push her off the phone? He was the one that wanted to follow up with her.

“Niall was kind of grilling me about where I was yesterday. I think he noticed I was a little hard to reach. So, I kind of ‘fessed up. I didn’t share anything in detail. I’m not that kind of guy,” he says, exasperated, not wanting her to think he’s a scumbag.

“Harry, Harry, it’s okay, don’t worry about it. I told Cam, so, I think we’re even.”

He lets out a breath, relieved. “Okay, good. Again, sorry it happened like that.”

“It’s all good. What are you doing the rest of the day?” she asks, tapping the steering wheel of her cart.

“Umm, no plans as of yet, but, I’m not against making some — with you, if that wasn’t clear,” he stumbles. She giggles, rolling her eyes.

“Yeah, that sounds good. I can come over? I can grab us dinner from somewhere, or bring something home from the club. I’ll probably be here later than usual, there’s some charity event that starts soon.”

“Yeah, that sounds good. You can schmooze the chef into cooking up something good, I’m sure.”

“Yes, Chef Lambo! He’s the G.O.A.T,” Briar squeals.

It takes Harry a split second to decipher what she just said. Greatest of All Time. Hm, one of those generational differences. He laughs, “Alright, Birdie, that sounds good. Well, I’ll let you get to it. I hope the golfers are treating you nicely.”

“Thanks, Harry, I’ll talk to you later.”

They hang up, and Briar continues on her route. The butterflies in her stomach stay with her all the way to the clubhouse. When her shift ends, she heads straight for the kitchen to find Lambo.

“Hi, Lambo,” Briar says, knocking on the frame of his open office door. “Have a sec?”

“Hi, Briar Baby! Of course I have a second,” he grins, inviting her in. Lambo is the nicest human she’s ever met. He went to culinary school after growing up homeless. Everything he has is through incredibly hard work. She admires him for that.

“Think you can whip up something good for me and…a friend…to eat tonight?” she doesn’t make eye contact with him when she says ‘friend’.

“Of course, baby. What are you in the mood for? Pasta? Steak? Is it a male ‘friend’?” he says, putting air quotes around friend.

Her cheeks heat up, knowing he’s figured her out. She nods.

“Well, I’ll think of some date night food while you go get changed. Come back in a half an hour and I’ll have it ready.”

“Thanks, Lambo, I owe you one.”

“Don’t sweat it. I’ll see you in a bit.”

She took her time getting ready in the locker room. She changed into a pair of leggings and threw on a Nike pullover. Nice and casual. When Briar returns to the kitchen, she sees her food packed up perfectly, with a note from Lambo:

Steak frites with broccoli rabe and scalloped potatoes. I included a brownie for dessert :-)

Enjoy! Be safe.

-Lambo

She smiles. She’ll bring him an iced coffee the next time they work together. She grabs the bag and exits through the back kitchen door that leads straight to the employee parking lot.

She pulls up to Harry’s house, parks, and retrieves the food from her passenger’s side. As she heads toward the front door, she hears a voice from his neighbor’s side of the fence. She sees a middle-aged woman watering plants on her front porch.

“Leave the food on the porch, hun! Read his sign about deliveries,” she says, rolling her eyes. Briar’s attention moves to the note on the door, scribbled in Harry’s writing.

Please leave all packages on the table to the left. TPWK.

She looks to the left to see a small glass table, with a basket full of snacks and drinks and another note, thanking the drivers. In fear of Harry’s neighbor calling the cops for lingering too long, she grabs a granola bar and books it back to her car. She calls Harry immediately.

“Hi, Birdie, you on your way here?” he asks, sitting on the foot of his bed, putting on a pair of socks.

“Um, I’m here, but there’s a slight issue. I was walking up to the front door, and your neighbor thought I was a delivery driver,” Briar says, mortified. “She told me to just leave the food.”

Harry starts to hysterically laugh, leaning down to pinch the outer parts of his eyes with his thumb and his pointer finger.

“S’not funny! I was scared she was gonna call the cops if I lingered there. I even followed your instructions and left the food on the little table. These Karens are unbelievable these days.”

“Alright, I’ll come down and get you. Be there in one sec,” he says before clicking end.

He exits his house through the garage, opening the door to meet Briar on his driveway. He looks over to Maureen’s yard, finding it empty. Briar hops out of her Jeep and fast walks over to Harry.

“It’s okay, she went back inside,” he says, leaning in for a kiss. She reciprocates, before walking to his front porch to retrieve the food.

“That’ll be $47.91 plus tip,” she says with a straight face, before busting out into her signature giggle.

He shakes his head, following her into the garage before clicking the overhead door closed.

They eat and enjoy each other’s company. When Harry sees she brought home steak frites, he grabs a full-bodied Cabernet Sauvignon from his wine cellar to pair it with. The two of them finish the whole bottle, and retire to his sofa for the evening, a little wine drunk and content.

They chat for a bit longer. He shares more information about his family and why he left the UK for college. She listens attentively, asking questions when necessary.

“What about you, Birdie, what was your life like growing up?”

She freezes. If she didn’t have 2 1/2 glasses of wine in her, she’d shut down any mention of her family.

“Um, well, my Uncle Patrick and Aunt Meredith actually raised me. Patrick is my dad’s brother. He passed away when I was young, like 5 or 6. My mom is still around, but she struggled with an addiction problem after he died. She and my dad knew each other since they were 14 years old, so she just couldn’t handle it.”

Harry instinctively offered a comforting touch on her arm. He let her continue.

“So, when she was struggling, my aunt and uncle got custody of me and my brothers; I have 3 older and 1 younger. But my mom is doing better now. She’s about 4 years clean, and actually just got remarried. He’s a nice guy and I think he’s good for her.”

“Did you still see her when you were growing up?”

“Yeah, it’s not like we were kept from her, but she always came to our house. We were never told of the details of where she lived, worked. Everything was kind of surface level.”

He pulls her in for a side hug, “Thanks for sharing that with me. I’m sure it’s not an easy thing for you to talk about.”

They’re quiet for a moment, her head on his shoulder.

“Wanna watch a movie?” Harry offers. He’s noticed Briar’s eyes gently close throughout the night, signaling her exhaustion. Poor thing. Those long hours at the club are probably taxing.

“Yeah,” she replies simply, nuzzling into his side. “You pick.”

“You want something scary? Or something easy to watch?”

“Easy to watch. I don’t like scary stuff, really.”

Harry puts on ‘Crazy, Stupid, Love’ before dimming the lights in the room on his phone.

She gasps, smiling bright, “This is one of my favorites!”

He smiles, “Mine, too.”

~

Briar jerks awake, frantically looking around the room to reorient herself. She remembers she’s at Harry’s and they fell asleep watching a movie. The screen is off, but she can still make out Harry’s sleeping frame from the street lamp out front. He looks like a dad asleep in a recliner, arms spread out, head back and mouth wide open, slightly snoring. She smiles at him fondly.

She pats around the sofa for her phone to check the time. 3:23AM. It’d be weird to leave, right? She thinks to herself. Or is it weirder that she stayed? This is only their second official hangout, but she already feels so comfortable with him.

He must sense she’s awake, because his breathing gets more shallow. His eyes peel open and he sits up, clearing his throat as he looks over at her.

“Briar? Are you okay?” he whispers, voice full of sleep and eyes puffy.

“Yeah, go back to sleep. It’s early. I just woke up and forgot where I was for a few minutes.”

“Well, let’s go upstairs. I’ll have to go to the chiropractor if I sleep like this any longer.”

She laughs. She doesn’t feel the age gap between them often, but when he says things like that, she can’t help but recognize it. They climb the stairs, his knees cracking on the way up.

“Are you comfy in those clothes? Or do you want one of my T-shirts?”

She ponders his question, opting for a shirt. He hands her a Def Leppard T-shirt, and she takes off her bralette before sliding it over her head. Harry is already in his bed, tucked under the covers watching her. She slides her leggings down to the floor and then joins him.

Harry surveys her expression, seeing if she’s sleepy, or full of energy. Before he woke up, he was having a wonderful dream that he’s now dealing with the physical ramifications of. Briar stares back at him, wondering if he’s looking for a hook-up, since they kept it pretty innocent last night.

She reaches out to paw at his waist, feeling his rock-hard crotch. She smirks, knowing she’s right. He inhales sharply, moving his hips towards her. Briar moves her hand past his waist band, dancing her fingers down his length.

Harry moans quietly, closing his eyes at her gentle touch. When he opens his eyes, she’s shuffling down the bed, disappearing under the covers. He feels his briefs sliding down his legs, coming to a stop just under his ass.

He rolls so he’s flat on his back, his knees slightly bent. Harry hears Briar gather spit in her mouth before gently wetting his cock with it. She starts by firmly grasping him at the base, before licking a stripe towards the top. This time, her free hand comes up to fondle his balls.

Harry’s eyes roll back in his head, before releasing a guttural moan. Briar smirks and repeats the movement, before lowering her head to stick them in her mouth one at a time. She pops off each one of them like a cherry, before returning to his cock. She sticks her thumb at his slit, rubbing the pre cum around gently. She envelopes him in her mouth, moaning at the fullness. She bobs her head up and down for a few minutes, before she feels his hand slam down on the bed, begging for mercy.

“Oh my goddd,” he slurs.

Harry runs his fingers through Briar’s soft hair, trying to hold off an orgasm. He can feel his lower region start to bubble, before shooting his cum into her mouth. She moans, collecting the sperm, before sliding her mouth off his cock and giving his tip one last kiss. She swallows, licking her lips while she stares up at him.

He’s bewildered. Perplexed. In awe. His head drops back down on his pillow, waiting for her to join him at his side. Her head pops back out from under the covers, smiling at him. He gives her a peck on her lips.

She rolls on her side and places her hand under her cheek, closing her eyes, “Night, Harry.”

“Huh? Let me get you back!” he pleads, still in shock.

“Nah, it’s good. I’m tired. Are you swinging by the course today?”

He rolls over to look at his phone. 4:39 AM. “I wasn’t going to, but that performance incentivized me,” he smiles, shuffling to make room for her.

She giggles, scooting over to lay her head on his chest.

~

Briar and her spry energy at 7AM makes Harry envious. He slept on the sofa for only a few hours and feels like he got hit by a bus. Oh to be in your 20s.

She’s rustling around in his ensuite, opening each drawer and closing them softly.

“Extra toothbrushes are in the bottom drawer,” He rasps out, trying to block the light from his eyes.

“Got it, thanks!”

She brushes her teeth, checking herself in the mirror. She pads back out to his bed, now occupied by Harry in the starfish position. She leans over him, pushing his hair out from his face.

“I’ll see you later?” she asks, sweetly.

“I think I’ll make an afternoon appearance. Gotta recover a bit. Drink some electrolytes.”

Briar rolls her eyes heading for the stairs, “Alright, I didn’t keep you out at an all-night rave. Bye, Harry.”

“Bye-bye, Birdie!” He shouts. “I’ve been waiting to say that one!”

Briar groans dramatically from the entryway, before closing the front door gently. He can get used to these kinds of mornings.

Since he’s up, he uses this time to head down to his home gym. He hops on his Peloton treadmill for a quick run, opting to listen to his playlist instead of the instructor’s. He sets a personal record, throwing a fist in the air when he earns his badge. His day is off to a great start, he thinks.

The morning goes by quick, and before he knows it, Harry’s getting dressed to head over to Wynnewood. He grabs green juice, one for Briar, and one for himself, from the organic grocery store down the street. He pulls up to the valet stand, tossing his keys to the boys.

Harry sets off toward the locker room to retrieve his clubs. He upgraded his locker to be able to keep his clubs there, instead of lugging them back and forth each time.

He arrives at the 5th hole for his designated tee time. The group ahead of him is playing at a less than ideal pace, so he grabs his phone to turn on a podcast. Instead of his usual finance show, he plays an episode of ‘Girls Gotta Eat’, per Briar’s recommendation.

He is a bit shocked by the raunchiness, but continues through the episode. He shakes his head, knowing that that show fits his girl’s personality perfectly. His girl. He likes that.

He hasn’t seen Briar anywhere. By the time he makes it to the 14th hole, he can see her cart parked in the wooded area — their spot.

Harry sinks the putt at 1 under — a birdie, of course, and then heads over to her. He hears her clapping and cheering for him. He places his clubs down a few yards away and saunters over.  

When he approaches, she’s beaming.

“Hi.”

“Hi, Birdie. Were you waiting for me here?”

“Maybe. I saw your tee time on the list.”

He smiles, sitting down next to her on her cart’s bench. The course is relatively empty, so they don’t feel the need to hide.

They embrace in a passionate kiss, getting a little sloppy after a while. He pulls away, and Harry begins to stare straight ahead. Unsure, she follows his gaze, but sees no one.

She can feel his hand snake under her skirt, eliciting a gasp.

“Harry! Here?”

“Why not? No one’s around. We’ll be quick.”

He’s thankful she’s not wearing one of those skort things. The built-in pants confuse him and make things difficult.

His fingers dance at the crotch of her thin panties. He glides his middle finger up her slit, gathering the bit of wetness. He inserts his middle finger. He has yet to look at Briar, but he’s sure the look on her face is one of bliss, broken whimpers escaping her throat.

“Be a good girl and keep it down. Wouldn’t want to cause a disturbance,” he murmurs in her ear. They’ve only hooked up twice, but he feels like he can start to explore his more dominate side with her.

Briar whines, wiggling away from him. Harry doesn’t like that.

“Move again and I stop.”

“Okay,” she says quietly, wanting to cum already. She hasn’t even looked up to see if anyone is near them. At this point, she doesn’t even care.

He thrusts three fingers in and out of her center vigorously, but discreetly. His thumb moves backward to pet at her clit, increasing the pressure in her pelvis. After a few moments, she’s clenching so hard around his fingers. She comes just seconds later, releasing the sweetest whine, shoving her face into his shoulder.

Harry removes his fingers, straightening out her skirt, before lifting his fingers to his mouth, licking his index, before sliding it out and extending his other fingers out to her.

“Suck.”

She welcomes his fingers in her mouth, tongue swirling around them. She closes her eyes at how erotic this is, his dominance making her hornier.

He pulls his hand back, reaching for one of the wipes she keeps in the cart, acting as if nothing happened. She can see his bulge in his pants, so she reaches over to try and alleviate it.

“Ah, ah. No, Birdie. Settle down. You’re not allowed to touch unless I say.”

She whines at his dismissal, but she realizes he’s playing the role of the dominant. They haven’t had an explicit conversation about their likes and dislikes in bed, but this is a big fat LIKE on her part. Her experience with dominant and submissive roles is limited, having only been spanked by her ex-boyfriend in college. She’s a quick learner and will basically do anything Harry tells her to.

Harry cleans up and rises from the cart, casually looking around. The course is still empty.

“Well, I better get going. Be a good girl for me, Birdie. I’ll see you later,” he says, kissing her on her neck.

He walks off, leaving Briar speechless, as usual.

~

Harry finishes his round, shooting well under par. This is a great fucking day, he thinks, smiling to himself as he heads to the locker room.

He sees Briar’s uncle, Patrick exiting one of the conference rooms near the locker room.

They make eye contact, and Harry smiles, about to open his mouth to greet him. Out of no where, Patrick pins Harry up against the wall, his forearm crushing his windpipe.

“Woah, Patrick, what’s going on?” Harry panics, choking slightly.

“What’re you doing sniffing around my niece?” Patrick seethes, his face getting red.

Harry falters, unable to form a coherent sentence. “I—what?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about. I saw her get out of your car the other night, right out front,” he whisper-shouts, not wanting to draw any attention to their altercation.

Harry is caught red handed.

“Buddy, I—,” Harry starts, before Patrick interrupts.

“Don’t ‘buddy’ me, we’re not friends. That girl is my entire life, and I’ll be damned if a rich prick like you takes advantage of her. Especially one twice her age! I knew giving her this job was a bad idea. It’s why I didn’t let her work here as a teenager.”

Since Briar filled him in on the details of her upbringing, he understands Patrick’s defensiveness. Their bond is close, as he had to step up as her father figure for most of her life. Patrick eases up the pressure he’s holding on Harry’s neck.

“Sir, I completely understand. But, I can assure you, this isn’t some fling. I’m quite fond of Briar. We shouldn’t have risked being seen here. I would hate for it to affect her job. But, I promise, there are real feelings here — for both of us,” Harry explains, his eyes a little wide out of fear of Patrick’s next move.

Patrick eases off of him, looking around to make sure no other members saw them.

“Fine, but I swear to God, if you hurt her, you’re done for. Do you hear me?” Patrick threatens, staring straight into Harry’s soul.

“Understood.”

Harry retreats to the locker room, exhaling. He has an uneasiness in his stomach. He changes in record time, and books it towards his car. He shoots Briar a text:

🦊: Call me when you’re done your shift.

🐥: I will 🤠

He sits for a while, answering emails while he waits for her call.

He feels it buzzing, letting him know he has an incoming call from ‘🐥’.

“Hi! Are you still here?” she says, right as he picks up.

“Um, yeah, I’m still here. I’ve been sitting in my car,” he says, scratching the back of his head.

“Huh? Why?” she asks, unsure of what his answer will be.

“Why don’t you come here and meet me. We’ll sit for a bit,” he says, trying to remain ambiguous.

“Ummm, okay, I’ll be right there.”

They end the call, and Briar appears at the passenger’s side a few minutes later. She hops in, giving him a peck.

“What’re you doing?” she asks.

“We have a bit of a situation,” Harry says gently, turning to face her in the passenger’s seat.

A puzzled look crosses her face, “What kind of situation?”

“Patrick saw you get out of my car when I drove you back here the other night. So, he just cornered me in the hallway by the locker room and gave me an earful.”

Briar doesn’t even process Harry’s words before she’s furiously opening the door and storming towards the pro shop. Harry swallows thickly, panic bubbling in his throat.

He quickly follows her in, knowing he looks like such a pussy for telling on Patrick.

Patrick is helping a customer when Briar powerfully pushes the door open, causing everyone in there to look at her.

“UNCLE PATRICK,” she screeches.

Patrick’s eyes go wide, seeing his niece, red in the face, and the guy he threatened to kill just an hour ago right behind her.

“Folks, if we could just have a few minutes… Come back later and I can help you all out…” He says to the people in the pro shop.

They clear out quickly. Patrick leans back against the counter, presumably giving Briar the floor to speak. He’s learned over the years to let her get her point across before responding.

“Harry told me you threatened him, is that true? I’m 23 years old for god’s sake. Who I spend my time with has nothing to do with you. And what are you doing even threatening someone with physical violence at your work? Are you crazy?” Briar rattles off point after point, and Patrick just takes it.

“Good now?” Patrick says, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Briar bear — Listen, I know I don’t have a right to say anything, but when something like this is happening under my nose, I have to speak up. I just worry about you, kid. I always will. I just want to do right by your dad. Yes, you’re a grown woman now, but he would roll over in his grave if I let this go without saying a word.”

“I think I got my point across,” Patrick says, staring directly at Harry. “Didn’t I?”

“Yes,” Harry says, moving closer. “Which is why you can kick me out of Wynnewood if I ever disrespect Briar. I’m very serious about my feelings for her, Patrick.”

Briar smiles softly. She’s calmer having Harry with her for this conversation. “Uncle Pat, please don’t tell anyone about Harry and me. We’re still going to follow the rules and not be overly friendly on the property,” Briar says, already lying. She and Harry were plenty friendly in the woods on the 14th hole.

Patrick ponders, before agreeing. He pulls her in for a hug, resting his chin on her head. He glares at Harry over her head, to which Harry cowers away a bit. He still won’t fuck with Patrick, even though he has no plans of letting Briar go.  

The pair leave the pro shop, a few minutes after the other, as to not drum up suspicion. They climb back into his car, staring straight ahead in silence for a minute. Harry links their pinkies together.

“I like you all spicy like that,” Harry teases. “Like a little chihuahua. And Briar bear is so cute! Might even be cuter than Birdie.”

“Shut up.”

———————————————————————————

Tag list:

@awesomenavy @butdaddyilovehim-hs

Lmk if you want to be added!

[sordidmusings]

Sweetly Scented Secrets - Intro (Reader x CYOE Various)

Summary: On a stop to a new island, you managed to find yourself at a witch's stall. Despite yourself, you actually bought some things. The purchase that vexes you is a perfume that could supposedly urge confessions out of those it targets.

Word Count: ~1.8k

A/N: this is some good ol’ Nonsense that came from this ridiculous video of a man spraying himself with perfume then seemingly being unable to keep divulging So Much so suddenly 💀 I have been told that he frequently dissociates into a state of info dumping. I will choose to believe the perfume compelled him. And thus it will compel the blorbos. Some will be sfw and some nsfw (and tagged accordingly of course). All will likely be goofy. I will play with which is which and who happens based on my fancy unless requested! This gets out first cuz it was p much done Forever Ago so all I had to do was fill it out and edit it and make a mood board then set it to come out on a Monday cuz Fuck Em

Warnings: gn! reader (I tend to write from afab perspective since that’s what I am so if something slips please let me know 🤍 this goes for all my gn!), a wild OC appears! Take her in all her cringy glory 👌🏻, I just always wanna write witches man, can’t decide if magic (largely in the modern western esoterica sense) being legitimate counts as canon divergence, if so then this is canon adjacent 🤷🏼‍♀️

~ ~ ~ ••• ✦✦✦ ••• ~ ~ ~

A spiritual crisis was not how you wanted to start your morning.

You were stuck between the deep-rooted desire to believe in magic and every skeptic you’ve ever known talking down their nose at you. It felt like a very unbalanced war between the two. The weight of scorn had tamped down your wish for magic to be fact for years, but a wanting pit in your chest still clung to “what if”. That pit had begun to grow roots and stems as the Grand Line showed you places and life beyond the scope of your imagination. What explanation was there for Devil Fruits besides magic? Though, magic, it seems, was only for Gods to deal out. Earthly life must keep trying to use science to catch up or fight for what scraps the Gods toss their way.

You continued to stare dubiously at the carved stone bottle in your hand. Delicate, swooping letters decorated its soft pink label, spelling out “Affection’s Confession” in deep violet. Gold accents brought out their curves and matched the shimmering golden wax that sealed the bottle’s cork and dripped down to crawl on the translucent fluorite vessel. It sat heavy in your hand, each second passing with it in your palm adding another gram to it then another and another. You sighed and placed it back on your dresser to stare some more. The light dancing through the sloshing clear liquid, bouncing and glimmering through lines of blue and green and purple, only made it more enticing to you.

Your hesitation was exacerbated by the perfume’s seller. Well, maybe potion was a better word? Saying “potion” made you feel silly though, even if it was given to you by a witch. And that brings you back to the whole problem.

The last island you’d visited was known for its strange customs and belief in the arcane. Most weren’t living by the practice; just knew of its validity as yet another mundane fact of life. Finding the actual practitioners was much harder, or it was supposed to be.

You would’ve had to have been blind or willfully, stubbornly ignorant to see that woman and think anything other than “witch”. Feathers and beads were tied in her dark hair, swaying in time with her vertebrae earrings on each turn of her head to watch passersby. You kept your eyes to them as you approached her, feeling unsettled and intrigued by the strange decorations. Shortly after you began heading towards her, her face snapped to you and she zeroed in, making you feel like a rabbit stalled before a fox. When she stood from her seat and sashayed over to greet you in front of her stall, you realized she was barefoot, sporting wood and leather anklets instead of shoes. The music they beat with each of her steps and the open smile that warmed her face eased you just a bit.

“Hello, sweet thing,” she greeted, the cheery tone of her voice ringing out the pet name. “I can help you find just what you need. The coven and I have built a stock to aid any situation, including yours.”

As she leaned forward in a semblance of a bow, you noticed her large necklace of braided bramble (Thorns still on? you noticed incredulously) hung low, holding dried roses in front of her cleavage. The languid way it followed her matched the nature of the scant drapings of deep red and dirty beige fabric, which hung on her in the vague shape of a summer dress. She held out her suntanned arms, palms up to ask for your hands. Having her this close nearly made you step back; something unnatural lived in the air around her and her tawny eyes saw right through doors and walls and words and skin. Feeling hesitant, you continued to meet her gaze and only offered a mumbled greeting.

“Come now, let me have your hands,” she encouraged gently. “They’ll tell me what you need.”

“How are they supposed to do that?” you asked curtly. “And I usually like knowing someone’s name before hand-holding.”

“Call me Pythia,” she chimed immediately, still holding her bent posture and asking hands. “I don’t have the time to explain the hands. I promise I won’t keep them though.” She giggled at her own… joke? You were hoping that was a joke. You eyed the peeks of death behind her (articulated bugs here, bones there, jarred creatures, hides, blood-) that made all the pretty wares around them seem tainted.

Watching her laugh was the first time you noticed the knack her loving smile had for curling into something more impish, cluing you in that she knew something you didn’t. Despite this making her feel even more dangerous to interact with, you put your hands in hers.

“Thank you, lovely,” Pythia said, voice heavy with a gratefulness that didn’t seem to fit the moment to you. While she cradled your hands, you took in the many carved rings and bangles of stone, leather, metal, and bone cautiously.

That caution had rooted itself to you and was very stubbornly sticking to your feelings about her wares. Besides the perfume, you had purchased an herbal pouch to hang over your bed, meant to aid with ease and depth of sleep. The first night, you noticed your mind was much calmer than its usual anxious whirring before bed. The second night, you listened to the first of her instructions and took ten deep breaths through your nose against the sigil-embroidered pouch. Your sleep came mere minutes after taking in the floral and earthy scent. It had you decide to try out the full instructions, adding on asking the herbs for good rest, placing a gentle kiss to the sigil, and sealing it with a long press of your forehead to the marking. You slept like the dead.

The success had you brainstorming on how to make it back to her in a few months, as she had warned you that the effects will fade with use. It has only been three weeks since your first full ritual with the pouch and you can already feel it start to wane just a bit. You mourned this morning when the sun through your window had actually managed to rouse you from sleep. When you were grumpily blinking at the bright light, you had noticed the perfume bottle still sitting untouched next to the beaming light.

If the pouch worked then shouldn’t this?

That hope was what led you to stare over the bottle as you were now, and try to convince yourself that it wouldn’t be so ridiculous to try out. After all, you had felt quite stupid speaking to your herb pouch and that feeling paled in comparison to the benefits it brought you. You took another minute to mull it over then steeled yourself with a deep breath to go through opening up the bottle.

You found and flipped open your pocket knife before settling on your bed with the bottle. As Pythia had instructed, you placed a kiss on each flat side of the blade before cutting around the rim of the bottle, right where the cork met glass. You thanked the blade and flipped it back closed. You twisted the cork out, took a deep breath filled with curiosity, and smelt… nothing?

Pulling the opening of the bottle to press on your upper lip, you took another long sniff. Yep. Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

You frowned at the bottle, wondering if the witch had actually managed to sell you snake oil. You sent your narrowed gaze to the herb pouch above your bed then back to the bottle in your grip, mulling over your trust in the liquid. Eventually, a mix of previous success and your burning curiosity got you to continue trying the perfume out. You were also pretty sure you saw actual snake oil in her shop, so that handed the witch a point for gumption and a deduction from trickery.

Her instructions were quite detailed for the perfume to be at its most potent. Things about the meanings associated with fingers and the places on the body and the importance of the order and all of it seemed to jumble together. When you asked if she had anything to write it down, she shrugged and told you what you remembered of the instructions was the act meant for you to take. Maddeningly unhelpful. So you sat on your bed and ran them through your memory until you were sure you recalled everything as clearly as possible. After a good while meditating on it, you were surprised by the detail that your mind let you recall of it. You were ready.

Blocking the small opening with your right ring finger, you overturned the bottle and flipped it back, leaving a drop of the substance on your fingertip. After repeating the process on the other side, you took to dabbing the prescribed spots with those fingers, making sure your right hand touched your left side and your left hand touched your right. You focused on following the list exactly - a dot on the front of each ankle, a dab on the center of the top of the thighs, one on each hip bone, a small swipe along each bottom rib. Each application was made with a whisper of “I can receive”.

Refreshing the liquid on your fingers, this time your pinky fingers, you continued to the next section. You placed a dab at the center of each clavicle, a swipe on the back ends of the jaw, and a circle on each temple, this time muttering “I can hear” with each touch. The liquid placed on each middle finger was rubbed into the opposite wrist to the words “I can unlock”. Lastly, you used your index fingers to draw a star on your third eye. This time right stayed with right and left with left when you flicked the bottom points to aim at your irises (“I can see”) and the side points to follow your brow (“I can know“). Your fingers joined together to draw the final point directly towards the crown of your head. With finality, you voiced a solid and steady “I can understand”.

Once you had finished applying, you noticed a sweet smell start to emanate from your skin. It was quite delicate at first, luring you to lean closer and seek it out. That pull only increased as you also sought more of the pleasant sensation warming your mind with each lungful of the scent. After a good thirty seconds, it leveled out, leaving you feeling boneless and content like you’d woken from a nap basking in the sun. The face of your love smiling down on you during a lazy summer afternoon flashed in your mind with the feeling.

Okay, maybe this will make them confess to me.

~ ~ ~ ••• ✦✦✦ ••• ~ ~ ~

Whose confession do you seek?

(list of who I have ideas for in no particular order) Law, Ace, Sanji, Nami, Robin, Koby, Luffy, Buggy, Mihawk

Other names are not unwelcome, just the juices weren't flowing for others vibing immediately with the energy of this prompt but tbh sometimes the challenge of that makes better fics. If you do want to request, please include sfw or nsfw and whether you want gn, afab, amab, fem, or masc. If you don't then my personal default is afab (female physiology, avoided or they/them pronouns for gender). I'm a bit nervous about writing transfem and transmasc properly, but so long as you're okay giving it a once over and pointing if I've made mistakes so I can correct them then I'm happy to try!

Also I had to fight the urge to start this with a dumbass joke hard lol the other first lines were "There are two wolves within you. Both of them are telling you this is likely a crock of shit."