#hope they do other things against that wall too

[doeeyeseddie]

Piaaaaaa "brushing their arm against the other's, hoping the other would finally catch their arm and hold it close" please, we already know they constantly brush arms anyway!

fridaaaa this took me, once again, many months to get to and i sort of only vaguely filled the actual prompt, but i hope you still enjoy it <3

5+1 things, rated t, wc: 4k

[read on ao3]

I.

Eddie’s first day as a probationary firefighter is…interesting. Captain Nash welcomes him with the same warm smile he gave him the first time they talked, then leads him inside and shows him around the app bay.

“We’ll give you the full tour later,” he promises, “after you’ve met the rest of the team. You’re the first one here, if you want, you can change into your uniform now.”

He points towards the locker room – which has glass walls for some reason – and Eddie nods.

He’s just finished buttoning up his shirt when Captain Nash ushers a group of firefighters inside. Eddie runs a hand through his hair to make sure it’s tidy and smiles as Hen and Chimney introduce themselves to him with warm smiles and handshakes, welcoming him to the team.

There’s a third person with them, hovering in the background and glowering at Eddie. He’s young, probably around Eddie’s age, tall and very built, and despite his hostile expression, he doesn’t give Eddie the impression of being an asshole. It’s like the expression doesn’t fit on his face, like he’s not used to wearing it.

Chim grabs him by the arm and pushes him forward, giving Eddie a commiserating smile.

“And this guy is Buck,” he says. “He was our probie before you.”

“Nice to meet you,” Eddie says politely, stretching a hand out to offer a handshake. “You’ll have to show me how things work around here, then.”

Buck glowers down at his hand, and when he finally grabs it, he squeezes it too tightly, like he’s trying to prove something. Eddie squeezes back, amused by the pretense this guy is clearly putting on.

Behind Buck’s back, Hen rolls her eyes, but she’s also wearing a fond look, which only confirms Eddie’s assumption that Buck isn’t half as bad as he’s pretending to be.

From Captain Nash, he knows that they’re supposed to work together a lot of the time, so that’s gonna be interesting. He doesn’t know why Buck is acting like this, but he’s gonna find out, and then he’s gonna figure out a way to work with Buck anyway.

He didn’t come here to make friends, but he’ll be spending 50 hours a week with these people, and he has to trust them with his life for a lot of that time, so they at the very least need to bury whatever hatchet Buck is carrying right now.

Eddie lets go of his hand with a nod and a polite smile, and gives himself a week to figure Buck out.

II.

The days between the accident and the funeral are kind of a blur.

There’s too much to do and think about, too many decisions to make, too many people to call, too much to organize. He has help – Abuela, Pepa, the entire 118, but it still feels too much.

Shannon was 27, she didn’t have a will, they never talked about any of this. How is Eddie supposed to know how she would like to be buried, or if she’d rather be cremated? What kind of music she would want them to play at her funeral? This wasn’t supposed to happen. Not for a very, very long time.

But it did happen, and now Eddie is somehow supposed to know all this about her, his wife, the woman he’s only just let back into his and Christopher’s lives, the woman who asked him for a divorce and completely pulled the rug from under his feet just a day before she died.

Sometimes, he feels like he didn’t know her at all.

His parents are here “to help”, which should be a relief but really isn’t. They never liked Shannon and aren’t making a secret of it, even now that– now that she’s gone. So Eddie can’t involve them in the funeral planning, and he can’t even leave Christopher with them because he’s scared that they’re gonna take the opportunity to grab him and run, and someone needs to make sure that Shannon’s memory is honored, but she didn’t have any family except him and Christopher, and Chris is seven, so Eddie has to be the one to make this funeral beautiful, something she’d deserve, but he doesn’t know– there’s so much–

“Eddie,” someone says next to him, snapping him out of his spiral. “Come on, breathe with me.”

Eddie stares at Buck’s chest as it rises and falls with exaggerated breaths, trying to match him. When did Buck get here? He doesn’t remember letting him in, doesn’t really remember what he was doing before he started hyperventilating on his couch.

“Chris,” he gasps when he realizes that also means he’s not sure where his kid is. And of course he’s the kind of father who would do that only days after his kid lost his mom, maybe his parents are–

“Is with Hen and Karen,” Buck says firmly, grabbing his forearm. “He’s gonna spend the day with them and Denny, probably getting spoiled rotten. I borrowed Pepa’s key when we went over there so they could pick him up, she told me you might not open – sorry for barging in here, but I’m glad I did. I know you– I wanted to– Bobby and Athena are running interference with your parents. And I’m here to help you with all that.” He gestures towards the couch table that’s covered in forms, leaflets from funeral homes, and cards from grief counselors. “After Abby’s mom– I helped plan her funeral. So I’ve got some experience.”

Eddie just stares at him, biting the inside of his cheek hard to stop himself from crying. He trusts Buck, but he still doesn’t want to cry in front of him, doesn’t want to cry in front of anyone. But he does think that maybe he should give Buck his own copy of a key, so he won’t have to borrow Pepa’s next time.

Buck squeezes his forearm and gives him a small, sad smile. “We’re all here for you, Eddie. I got your back, remember?”

Eddie blinks against the tears in his eyes and swallows around the lump in his throat that’s keeping him from saying anything.

Instead, he twists his arm from Buck’s grip and grabs his hand instead, squeezing it in a silent thank you.

Buck squeezes back and keeps holding on.

III.

Buck gets to go home earlier than anyone expected, but Eddie has been to his new apartment, so he isn’t surprised when Buck texts him a picture of his couch with a sad face. It’s not ideal, but at least he has a bathroom downstairs and a girlfriend who can help if he struggles with anything.

Until he doesn’t have that girlfriend anymore.

Eddie doesn’t find out until after his shield ceremony, days after, actually, once his parents have finally gone home to Texas.

Buck says he’s fine, obviously, but Eddie starts going over every day he doesn’t have a shift anyway, because he knows Buck and can see how much he’s struggling with the whole situation, with the uncertainty of when and how he can return to work.

He brings Christopher most of the time. They’re not having the best summer either, Eddie still worries that he’s not doing enough to help Christopher deal with his grief, when he can barely keep his own head above the water of grief, guilt and fear.

Carla is doing what she can, watching Christopher whenever Eddie’s working, she found him a grief counselor and is even looking into more permanent therapists.

None of it changes the fact that they’re grieving. 

But when Christopher gets to hang out with Buck, he lights up every time, and so does Buck, which makes this a two birds with one stone kind of situation. Hanging out with Buck helps them both, too, makes their grief not the first thing on their minds for a little while.

Buck can’t move much, so they play board games and try to find one they all enjoy equally – it’s not easy, since Eddie likes luck-based games (he plays poker with his abuela and tía whenever he can), Buck prefers trivia and games relying on knowledge, while Christopher likes strategic games most.

But everyone gets to pick sometimes, and when they don’t want to play board games, they switch to video games instead.

Eddie knew that Buck and Chris get along well, they have ever since the first time they met, when Buck drove Eddie to Chris’ school after the earthquake during Eddie’s second week at the 118. But with how much time the three of them are spending together now, he can see them growing closer every day – and he loves it.

Buck is his best friend, and he genuinely cares about Christopher in a way that feels completely independent from Eddie.

One evening, while they’re playing a few rounds of Christopher’s current favorite video game after dinner, the kid falls asleep between them on the couch.

Buck smiles down at him and lowers the volume of the TV, which means he loses even more clearly to Eddie, but he had the win in the bag anyway, he’s sure.

Buck rolls his eyes at him when Eddie celebrates his victory with big, silent gestures, but he’s smiling, too.

Eddie grins at him, resting his arm on the back of the couch behind Chris, and Buck twists a little to face him. His leg, resting outstretched on the couch table in front of them, moves with him, and Eddie slides Christopher’s glass of water out of the way in a practiced move.

“I know you’re here to keep an eye on me,” Buck says, “and I should probably be annoyed. I– I was kind of annoyed, at first. But it’s hard to stay annoyed when he’s here, right?” He nods down at Christopher. “And I guess you’re okay, too.”

“Wow, thanks,” Eddie says, but he knows his glare isn’t convincing. “To be clear, we’re all keeping an eye on each other.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Buck reaches for Eddie’s hand, still on the backrest between them, and squeezes it – just for a moment, like he’s trying to get Eddie’s attention, like he doesn’t already have it anyway. “Thanks.”

IV.

Everything sucks.

It’s the uncertainty that gets to Eddie most, the not knowing how to help, how to stay safe, how to keep his loved ones safe. How long this is gonna last.

Every day, they have to see people die from a virus they know nothing about, and can’t do anything against.

And afterwards, they can’t even go home.

Christopher is part of a high risk group, and Eddie risks exposure at work every day, so obviously, he can’t endanger him by living with him. Chimney feels the same way about Maddie, and Hen also wants to keep her family safe, which is how the three of them ended up at Buck’s apartment, where they’ve been camped out for the past three weeks.

It’s generous of Buck to let them all stay with him, but the loft is not made for four people to live there, and they’re all feeling it.

Eddie loves his friends, but spending every minute of every day with them is starting to wear on him. They all try to give each other space, using the balcony as an extra room or going for runs outside, but there’s only so much they can do. 

He hates being separated from Chris, it makes him feel like he’s breaking his promise to never leave him behind again. Christopher says he understands, but Eddie worries anyway. He trusts Pepa, who’s working fully remote and offered to stay with Chris, and they talk every day, but it’s not the same as being there.

Whenever he talks to Chris on the phone, he feels better in the moment, but worse the second they hang up. While they’re talking, he can almost pretend that things are normal, but it all comes crashing down afterwards.

He hasn’t hugged his son in weeks, and he has no idea when he’s even gonna see him in person again.

Buck joins their calls most of the time, at least for a few minutes, and he sits next to Eddie on the bed now, shoulders slumped where they’re touching Eddie’s. In a world where he has to keep his distance from almost everyone, except the patients he’s treating and the people he’s living with, touching and being touched by Buck is a real comfort.

“This won’t be forever, Eddie,” he says, almost desperately. 

“But for how long?” Eddie asks, and it comes out sounding a little wobbly.

He’s not embarrassed by it anymore – Buck’s seen him in all kinds of situations, and they’re currently sharing a bed, so he’s seen him cry anyway.

“I–I wish I knew,” Buck says. “I wish I could– fix this.”

Eddie wipes at his eye and laughs a little. “The whole pandemic?”

“If I could, yeah.” Buck shrugs.

Eddie presses even closer to him for a moment, a gentle pressure of their shoulders, arms and thighs against each other. “I wish you could, too. But even if you can’t – I’m glad you’re here.”

“Of course.” Buck smiles at him and places his hand on Eddie’s thigh, palm up.

Eddie smiles back and grabs his hand, squeezing tightly.

“Okay,” he says, taking a deep breath. “I think it’s our turn to make dinner tonight – you ready?”

“Ready when you are,” Buck says, but he doesn’t let go until Eddie does.

V.

After Chris has gone to sleep, after Eddie has finally stopped crying, after Buck has wrapped his knuckles and cleaned up the worst of the mess in Eddie’s bedroom – the shards, the pieces of drywall, the fallen furniture, he makes up the couch for Eddie to sleep on. Eddie wants to help him, to tell him that he’ll just sleep in his room, but he can’t seem to move from his seat at the dining table.

Everything feels like too much, his hands hurt and his head worse, and he can’t stand the thought of Buck leaving. He’s exhausted, but he knows he won’t sleep if Buck goes home now.

But he can’t ask him to stay, not after Buck already dropped everything because Eddie couldn’t keep it together. He probably had plans, and Eddie ruined those too.

He can already feel the hot burn of tears behind his eyes again and drops his forehead onto his arms, folded on the table in front of him.

Buck’s hand lands on his back, warm, then travels up to squeeze the back of his neck gently.

“You ready to sleep?” he murmurs, and Eddie makes a noncommittal sound. “Come on, you must be exhausted.”

Eddie shrugs and Buck’s thumb brushes along his hairline.

“You don’t have to go in there, I can get you anything you need,” Buck says quietly. “And I’ll be right next to you in case you have a nightmare.”

“You’re staying?” Eddie asks, lifting his head. Buck’s hand stays where it is.

“Of course, Eddie,” Buck says, like it’s that easy.

And maybe it is that easy, Eddie thinks when they settle in next to each other in the living room, Eddie on the couch and Buck on a makeshift bed next to it. He’s pushed the couch table to the side to make room for it and it looks like he’s dragged Eddie’s mattress here, so at least Eddie doesn’t need to worry about him sleeping on the floor.

They’ve been by each other’s side through so much shit, maybe it’s not such a surprise that Buck wants to be here now too. He’s just not sure he deserves it.

“I’m sorry,” he says, staring up at the ceiling instead of looking at Buck. “You had plans– I’m sure you didn’t want to–”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Buck says firmly. “Of course I’ll come whenever Christopher calls. O–or if you need me. I’m here, okay?”

“I keep thinking about her,” Eddie mumbles, pressing the heels of his hands to his burning eyes. “Mills. Last August– I should’ve– if I’d picked up the phone earlier–”

“This isn’t on you.” There’s rustling and then Buck is gripping Eddie’s forearms, trying to gently pull his hands away from his face. “I d-don’t know what Mills was going through, but I know that you couldn’t have known how bad it was. It’s sad, and it’s unfair, but it’s not your fault. And I know you’re feeling all these things now, but Eddie– I’m so happy you’re still here. I need you to– know that. Okay?”

Eddie finally lowers his arms, but instead of letting go fully, Buck just grabs his right hand and holds on. His eyes are wide and scared, and Eddie has scared too many people he loves tonight.

“Okay,” he says, even though– well. What makes him special? Why should he be the only one to get out? He’s not a better person than any of them, he doesn’t have a right to happiness or whatever he’s been deluding himself into believing he could have. 

But he knows that he can’t tell Buck that now (or ever), knows that it’s a dark road to go down.

Maybe for tonight, with Buck by his side, he can keep the thoughts at bay for a little bit longer. After that– he has no idea. But Buck is still holding his hand, and Eddie may not deserve him, but he trusts him.

He thinks it may just give him enough hope to get through this night.

+ I

“This was nice,” Buck says, holding the door for Eddie as they leave the restaurant. “You, uh, you really didn’t have to pay, though.”

“I wanted to,” Eddie says with a smile, glancing right towards their cars and then left to where the beach is only a short walk away, and finally back to Buck’s face, finding him already looking back. “How do you feel about taking a walk?”

Buck grins, turning left. “Let’s go.”

They’re not on a date, or at least they haven’t called it that, but Eddie has been thinking that it feels like one all night. Technically, they’re two friends trying out a new restaurant together. They drove here separately, no one pulled anyone’s chair out, they talked the same way they always do.

But Eddie spent half an hour picking something to wear tonight, Buck is wearing a shirt that looks new and gorgeous and fit for a date, and every time their eyes caught across the table, Eddie thought that maybe, Buck wouldn’t pull away if he reached out and took his hand.

It’s not the first time Eddie has thought that. Ever since Buck and Tommy broke up, it’s felt like maybe they’re heading towards something, familiar touches lingering and turning into something new, gazes catching and then holding instead of looking away.

Buck was upset for a little while afterwards, but he admitted to Eddie that it was more about another failed relationship – and his first one with a man, after he thought he’d finally figured out what was missing, than about Tommy as a person.

He went on a couple of dates, with men and women, but nothing ever stuck.

Eddie was going through his own stuff at the time – he eventually came out to Buck a week before Chris finally came home, and Buck hasn’t been on a date since.

Sometimes, Eddie wonders (hopes), if the two things are related.

Still, neither of them has called tonight a date – yet.

Eddie glances at Buck’s profile while they’re walking, and wonders what he’s waiting for.

Yes, it’s scary because Buck is the most important person in his life right after Christopher, but it’s also not, because this is Buck. Who has been by Eddie’s side through the worst, most painful, most humiliating times of his life, and is still here. Buck, who Eddie trusts with his life, and his son, and his heart.

Buck smiles at him and Eddie smiles back, heartbeat picking up. He’s doing this, he’s gonna tell Buck how he feels. Any minute now, he’s gonna be brave enough.

“Hey,” Buck says, “it’s just me.”

“I know,” Eddie says, and his heart thumps against his ribs. He lets his fingers brush against Buck’s on their next swing and watches as Buck bites his lip, smiling down at the ground. Hushed, like a confession, he adds, “Are you nervous, too?”

Buck looks back up at him then, eyes glittering in the dark. “Y-yeah. I am.”

They’ve reached the edge of the beach by now and bend down to take off their shoes without having to talk about it.

When they start walking again, they’re even closer than before, the backs of their hands, their elbows and shoulders all brushing with every step.

Eddie keeps stealing glances at Buck, and almost every time, Buck is already looking back.

There aren’t many people at the beach at this time of day, so they don’t come close to anyone else, and all they hear is the sand beneath their feet and the waves crashing a few feet away. The moon is big enough to be reflected on the sea, a beautiful sight, but Eddie still can’t look away from Buck for long.

“So, this is, uh, kind of romantic,” Buck blurts out after a few quiet minutes. “Right? I–I’m not misreading that?”

“No,” Eddie says. “I mean– you’re not misreading it.”

“But you’re nervous.”

When their knuckles brush again, Eddie stretches out his fingers and catches Buck’s, holding on. Buck’s own fingers tighten immediately, and it gives Eddie the last bit of courage he needs.

“Well, yeah. Buck–” He stops walking, and Buck follows, turning so he’s facing Eddie. He’s close enough that Eddie can see his expression despite the dark, and he looks terrified, hopeful, nervous and excited at the same time, all of which Eddie feels, too. Eddie takes a deep breath. “I’m nervous because– nothing…no one’s ever been this important.”

A smile spreads out across Buck’s face, slowly deepening the crinkles around his eyes. “So this was a date?”

“Did it feel like one to you, too?”

Buck’s smile widens. “Yeah, i–it did. And I’m–I’m nervous too, of course. Eddie, if we do this, there’s no going back for me. I can’t– lose you. You and Christopher, you’re too important.”

He pulls on Eddie’s hand a little, and Eddie takes another step closer, drops his shoes in the sand and places his free hand on Buck’s shoulder, thumb resting against his collarbone.

“It’s the same for me,” he says quietly. He shivers when Buck grabs his waist, the warmth of his hand seeping through Eddie’s shirt. “I– We don’t know what’s gonna happen. But, Buck– I love you. I love you so much, I have for…way longer than I was aware of it, and I just don’t see that going away. And I don’t think it’s fair to us to deny ourselves when I really think we could make each other– so happy. I know I can make you happy, and I want to prove it to you every day of my life, Buck.”

Buck is just staring at him with a dazed expression, his lips slightly parted, and Eddie suddenly can’t stand not kissing him for a second longer.

He slides his hand from Buck’s shoulder to the back of his neck, watches Buck’s eyes flutter shut and feels his fingers tighten on his waist, and then he’s finally, finally closing the distance between them.

Buck makes a soft sound against his mouth, like he’s still somehow surprised this is happening, but he gets on board very quickly, and Eddie stops thinking entirely.

When they pull back breathlessly, Eddie’s hair is a mess – he can feel the loose strands on his forehead – his lips are still tingling, and Buck’s got both arms wrapped around him tightly.

“In case that wasn’t clear,” Buck gasps, and lifts a hand to cup Eddie’s cheek. His thumb brushes over Eddie’s chin and caresses his lower lip, and Eddie presses a kiss to the pad of it. “I love you, too.”

[witchthewriter]

𝐃𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐯𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 🐦‍⬛

⤷ gender neutral, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!

a/n: I've added Victor into this, but I want to have a conversation about if he can be a romantic partner - or he will always be platonic?

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ | ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ ᴵᴵ

You're still in Fromville, not having escaped yet but making the best of it.

𝑩𝒐𝒚𝒅 ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

・Domesticity to Boyd is so much different in this town compared to the 'real' world.

・For example, he would be awake before you, no matter the day just so he could surprise you with your favourite drink and a pastry each morning.

・The chores would be split 50/50, with Boyd usually picking up any slack (he doesn't mind at all)

・He loves doing the laundry, folding your clothes with so much care.

・But here... his actions to show his love are limited and it kinda pisses him off

・But you constantly remind him of all the good he's done here and how he keeps everyone together.

・You celebrate every win, even the small ones.

・Boyd is big on DIY, and loves fixing up things for you. Anything you ask - you want a different type of curtain, or you want part of the window patched up - he does NOT let you do it. That is HIS job.

・Massaging his shoulders at night, feeling how taught he is. This town is so hard on him. It constantly makes you wonder, why him?

・You do have one rule though: last one in bed has to make it!

・Boyd seems like the type of person to keep everything about himself to himself. But that isn't true. He likes telling you things, he enjoys opening up to you.

・One really important factor in your relationship is the challenges of town and its mysteries.

・Many people in town were basically betting how long you two would together.

・But what they didn't know, was that the horrors STRENGTHENED your bond. It made you both rely on each other so deeply.

・Having a partner means so much to him.

・Boyd loves you so much. He would never burden you with what he knows, but he loves when you have random conversations.

・It makes things feel just a bit more normal. It gives him hope.

𝑲𝒆𝒏𝒏𝒚 ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

・Mornings and nights are especially special to you both

・Slow, careful, mindful, warm and cosy.

・Touching each other in some way - hugging each other from behind, pinkies entwined, cheek kisses, forehead kisses, rubbing noses together - if anyone else saw you too they would gag (ITS CALLED LOVE)

・Kenny LOVES tucking you in at night.

"You comfy now?" As he wedges the blanket under the side of your body.

"Yes Kenny! Now get in bed you loser!" You answer laughing.

"Okay, okay, I'm just looking after the most important person in my life thank you very much."

・You love listening to him; to his stories about his childhood up until he came to town.

・One of Kenny's favourite things is when you read to him. Even if you don't have a book in front of you, he just wants you to recount as much as you can from books you have read.

・Might be kind of painful, but you two like talking about how life would be like together outside of this hell.

・Owning two cats, two dogs, maybe some fish.

・Whenever you hear the creatures screeching, you automatically cling to Kenny, you can't help it. You HATE the noises.

・But you always feel safe around Kenny. Always.

"I've got you. I swear to god I'll never let anything happen to you."

𝑱𝒂𝒅𝒆 ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

・Every morning he gives you a kiss on the head and 'tip toes' out of the room, trying not to disturb you.

・You usually yell at him to get back in bed

"My looooooove, I have important business to attend to!"

・The bed is pressed up against the wall, and Jade says if someone/something were to enter the room, he would be the first thing they see

・From then he starts his daily ritual of figuring out how to get the hell home

・Jade teaches you A LOT of stuff. And you're always surprised by how well he does at teaching. He's patient (only with you but you don't know that), and takes his time to teach in ways you'll understand (once again, only for you...)

・He is like a walking computer at times. Really good with dates and great with measurements.

・But one thing he is terrible about is the fact that he's a repeat offender blanket stealer. Absolute criminal.

・No matter how much you tug and pull, or wrap yourself in it, Jade somehow unravels you in his sleep and takes the blanket.

・When you both wake up, you've practically snuggled underneath him...

"Babe, what are you doing?"

"You stole the blanket again and I got cold," you reply muffled beneath him. He's very warm.

"Oh god, sorry! We ah, we should probably get more blankets then... god why didn't you wake me?"

"Wake you? Ever since we got our own place, you've slept like you've never done so in your life!"

・It was quiet before he replied, and then he wrapped his arms around you.

"That's because I haven't sleep properly before I met you."

𝑹𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒂𝒍𝒍 ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

・Your relationship with Randall is one that surprises you. Constantly.

・People don't see him the way you do. At times they start to though.

・But only you get to see his true soft side. The side that moves the hair from your face, kisses your forehead, nudges his nose against your own.

・You are the ONLY person to make him laugh.

・He knows so much about you - the way you like your clothes folded or hung up. He knows which books are your favourite, which song you could listen to on replay.

・Music is a big thing to Randall, and the fact that he can't just randomly play something on his phone gets him really down.

・So one night you guys make a list of every song you like, when you heard it and what it made you feel

・Making each other guess who you were before arriving in hell.

"Hmm... you were ... a ... farmhand on a ranch..."

"What the fuck Y/N."

"What? Were you?"

"Oh yeah sure, you hit the nail straight on the head sweetcheeks," and then he rolled his eyes.

・You laugh, loving when he gets 'annoyed' (you know he can never really be annoyed with you right?)

・You know each other's favourite tv shows, colours, smells, literature and so on. You whisper to each other through the night, trying to take your mind off of the screeching coming from outside.

𝑬𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒔 ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

・Always the last to get up, sometimes he wakes before you but he'll still lay in bed, watching you sleep. Sometimes blowing air on your face when it's been a few hours and he gets bored

・Leaving sweet notes in unexpected places, they range from:

'hey baby, went down to do some work in the greenhouse, love you xx' to 'yo sexy honey see you tonight ;)'

・And you keep every single one of them. You have a sort of time capsule thing underneath the bed in one of your bags. Just small photos, letters written to each other, etc.

・Side note - Ellis is a cheeky man who loves to rile you up. Push your buttons. Make you red in the face.

・But he knows when enough is enough; he's extremely intune with your moods and doesn't have to ask when the days get too much.

・LOVES MAKING UP RANDOM SONGS ABOUT YOU, they are terrible but they make you laugh

・CONSTANTLY setting up spontaneous things for you guys to do. Seeing a smile on your face is the best thing he has ever seen.

・Literally puppy love.

・You guys seem to be able to talk to each other mind to mind. Glances from across the room are easily read by one another.

𝑽𝒊𝒄𝒕𝒐𝒓 ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

PSA: As I said above, I'm not sure if Victor can be a romantic partner - I would love everyone's thoughts on it and maybe we can come to some kind of agreement??? Anyway, read this how you like ⟡☾⚝☽⟡

・Home...this town is the only home that Victor had ever truly known.

・How could you show him that the way he'd been living was not normal? That he should be able to feel safe, he should have gone to school - maybe even his drawing could have evolved into something astonishing

・So, in little ways you introduce this life to him

・He can't remember his birthday (so you help him choose one) and the two of you, along with Ethan, Tabitha and Julie celebrate

・...home decor projects are mostly just Victor's drawings. The really scary ones, you ask to be put away and he obliges <3

・Victor is used to living with other being, but not sleeping in the same room as another person.

・You would also need to get used to his blatant honesty. It isn't like he's trying to hurt you but he can just be brutally honest.

・Picnics in your room where you scavenge whatever food you can and talk about the funniest things you've seen people do

"I saw Jim ... trip over today," Victor says in a hushed voice, a cookie halfway to his mouth.

You burst out laughing, even snorting as you imagine the uppity Jim Matthews take a tumble.

"God, I wish I saw that."

・At first Victor didn't want another friend. He didn't want to get close to someone, he knew something would happen to you. You'd be taken away from him.

・But you swore to him that you would always be there for him.

・In town, and when everyone leaves. You've told him that you can be his home, his family.

[aspergerasparagus]

What if... Lucky Contestant and/or Real Frankie angst? 👀

<Incorrect-Finding-Frankie

You asked for this. Bad Ending unlocked. Also on Ao3

They were on the 65th season when things finally came to an end. The chat was slowly starting to lose interest in their winner. They needed someone new and Lucky had seen the writing on the wall before the new season had even started. So in hindsight it was no surprise that he had come out of the gate swinging. Literally. 

Of course Frankie had been the first to face him. He'd been getting used to playing with them first before trying to catch them so he'd let his guard down. It was only when Lucky drove the knife he'd concealed into his eye did he finally realise what was happening. Of course the fight had still been a brutal affair. Lucky being tossed around like a rag doll as the rabbit screeched in pain, lashing out blindly in search of his target. Both were bloodied by the end but living up to his name, Lucky had managed to strike the final blow by tripping the beast and sending them careening into a saw blade trap. Bloodied and beaten he continued on, clutching his broken ribs as he breath came out in short ragged bursts.

He'd ignored the Frankie on the tvs for the most part. It's not like they could do anything but to throw curses and insults his way. But even that Frankie fell silent after Lucky had made his way to the server room. Leaving only one “Frankie” left to deal with.

And so here they were, finally at the end and it was everything the rabbit had wanted and more. Frankie lay pinned under a piece of parkour equipment Lucky had managed to dislodge during their confrontation. His legs pinned down meaning he had been easy pray for when Lucky had plunged the metal pipe into his chest. Pity he didn't have the strength to hit a little deeper, seeing at the rabbit was now slowly “bleeding” out rather than the quick end his contestant had hoped for.

“You're beautiful you know that.”

“Shut up. I've heard enough from you…” Lucky was leaning against the broken screen, the chat still visible behind the cracks. He was caked in blood, sweat and oil, his breath laboured as he tried to keep himself standing. It was impressive he was still upright given the damage Frankie had done to him, the rabbit was pretty sure he'd broken their arm in the scuffle, along with their collar bone. He must be in annoy and yet he still refused to back down. Frankie could only grin wider. He was perfect!

“It's true tho. After all you've been through, all we've been through, here you finally are. My “Lucky” contestant, my money maker, my lover, my everything.” Frankie could stop the purr that escaped him as Lucky glowered at him, disgust clear on his face for the first time in a long time, haven finally discarded the mask Frankie had become accustomed to.

“Look at me more like that, my little rabbit. You know what you do to me when I get to see you angry~” Lucky went to spit out an insult, only to hiss in pain as he clutched his side the exertion of such an act too much for him right now.

“Go to hell you bastard…”

Frankie just chuckled as he watched Lucky force himself to pick up a jagged piece of scrap and begin to stumble his way over to the rabbit. He wasn't going to let the rabbit just bleed out, that was too kind of a death, no where near befitting of their relationship. He wanted it to be close and personal. A suddenly shiver went down Frankie's spine as he realised this was it. This was his end. He was going to die. When he first realised that the higher ups were going to terminate him he'd felt real fear for the first time. Terrified of the ceaseless void of nothingness that was going to take him. But now, here, facing his end, he couldn't feel anything other than absolutely ecstasy! This was beyond anything he had ever felt before and he was intoxicated.

Grinning wider he held his hand out to the man as he shuffled towards him, as he had when they had first made that deal all those years ago. A wonderful memory he had come to cherish. Sighing the man reluctantly took it as he shifted his weight to it as he continued on, it's not like Frankie could do anything now. He'd lost. Lucky had won. As he always did.

Finally reaching him the man took a moment to catch his breath, the rabbit studying him, memorising each and every detail of him in this moment.

“I wasn't lying when I said you were beautiful. Right now you are stunning, Lucky.”

“I know and that's why I wish you'd stop talking for once.” Frankie just snorted as he gently rubbed the back of their hand, soothing them for what they had to do next.

“I wonder if a small part of you will miss me? I'll miss you.”

“I… Maybe a sick part of me will miss you. But it'll fade. I'm not letting you control my life anymore. I'm getting out of here and taking what is rightfully mine.” Lucky held the rabbit's gaze as through his confession, even at this stage refusing to hide his true feelings. Truly a stunning man~

Frankie just smiled and nodded before directing the man's attention towards a spot on his head.

“My main CPU is stored here. A hard enough strike there will shut me down permanently. So try and not mess it up, it would be embarrassing to miss with such an audience watching us.” Lucky could only roll his eyes before offering a small smirk, unable to resist Frankie's charm one last time. Helping him up onto his chest, he watched as Lucky steadied himself before he raised the metal above his head ready to deal the finishing blow. To end this all. For both of them.

“Do you remember my promise? The one I made to you on our first date?” Lucky hesitated, the scrap still raised.

“Yes, as if I'd forget that. But it doesn't matter now Frankie. You've lost.”

“I know but I still intended to keep my promise my sweet little rabbit.”

Lucky didn't have a chance to react as Frankie wrapped his arms around them and contracted the springs in his arms. 

The sound of the pipe impaling them was a mix of the sickening cracking of bone and squelching of meat. His poor little contestant didn't stand a chance. He heard them cry out, gasping in pain as they tried desperately to expand their chest, but the blood quickly filling their chest charity and lungs made it impossible. (Not to mention the pipe.)

“Shhhh it's okay Lucky. I'm here. Frankie’s got you.” His tone was so soft, like a mother with their child as he cradled their shaking form closer. Coming up to pet their hair he could hear them gargling, before they hacked, blood spluttering out, covering them both. Now this was the ending they deserved. It was perfect. The triumph of the hero over the villain, only for the twist and betrayal at the end. This story was already written the moment Lucky had agreed to stay. There was no happy endings here for them.

Holding him Frankie could only let out a purr, this was practically orgasmic. The feeling of Lucky dying in his arms, by his hand, was even more perfect than he could imagine. He'd have to make sure the techs didn't erase his memory when they repaired him. He needed to remember this moment for all eternity, just so he could have it on a constant repeat in his head. This is how he wanted to remember his Lucky. Hearing them gag he snapped back, offering a small apology he nuzzled this head before leaning down to place a soft “kiss” against their forehead. 

“B-bastard… t-this was always the plan wasn't… it.” Even with his injuries he still had the ability to talk. How impressive~

“It was. You were never going to leave this place alive Lucky. And I think you knew this.” Lucky could only give a weak nod, tears slowly starting to drip down his cheeks, leaving streaks in the blood caking them.

“I… did. I…just had t-try still… Frankie i-it hurts…” Hushing him, the rabbit cuddled him close, burying his face against his hair.

“I know, just close your eyes Lucky. Just give in. It'll be over soon. I promise I won't leave you here like the others, I'll put you somewhere special. So we can be together forever~”

Lucky could only let out a weak sob, but just as Frankie had said soon he closed his eyes. His breaths becoming shallower and shallower until nothing. His body lay limply against the rabbit as they soon succumbed to their own injuries. The only sound left was the hum of the facility and the sound of multiple footsteps approaching them.

[m-jelly]

Late night snack - Chapter 2

Vampire Levi x human reader

Trouble arrives for Levi and Erwin, so they must work with the police to stop some dark and twisted trading. You go shopping, meet a fan, take Levi home and it's loving time.

Ao3

Levi pressed you against the wall, his lips never parting from yours. He should have left your place about an hour ago to help Erwin, but he just couldn’t let you go. The way your body curved against his, the heat of your body, the taste of you and your darling touch and voice was addictive to him. He was in a pure happy bubble, but he could hear someone walking closer and it annoyed him because he knew very well who was coming.

Erwin walked into your apartment and went up to your blood heater. “Afternoon.”

You pulled from Levi’s lips. “Mm, hi Erwin.”

“Afternoon.” Erwin and you had met two weeks ago and you just clicked. You became fast friends and you were helping him romance a cute thing down at the city hall. Erwin had some control over Levi’s power and strength, but you fully tamed him and Erwin appreciated it a lot. “I figured he would be with you.”

Levi slipped behind you and hugged you tightly. “I’m not leaving.”

“I need you for work.”

“I don’t want to leave.”

Erwin sighed. “Levi.”

Levi hid behind you a bit. “No.”

Erwin looked at you and said your name. “Could you have a word with him?”

You turned in Levi’s arms. “Sweet honey kitten.” You cupped his face. “Be a good boy and go with Erwin, okay?”

Levi pouted. “But you’ll be lonely without me.”

You wiggled his face. “I will be a bit lonely, but when you come back will be so exciting and fun. Think of all the kisses we’ll share when we reunite.”

He nodded as he processed what you said. “You’re right.”

“Plus, you’re off to be strong and brave.”

His eyes lit up. “Yes! I’m off to be very strong and brave.” He kissed you. “I’ll be back later, okay?”

You grinned. “Okay!”

Erwin cleaned up his bottle before recycling it. “If you’re that worried about her, I could always ask our friend Theodore to look after her.”

Levi pouted. “No.”

“What is your issue with him? He’s a good friend.” Erwin laughed. “Is it because he’s clumsy sometimes?”

You looked over at Erwin. “Who is this friend?”

“We have a few, but the one we’re talking about is Theodore.”

You heard Levi growl a little. “Well, I hope I can meet more of your friends.” You kissed Levi’s cheek. “Be safe.” You playfully bumped your fist against Erwin’s jaw. “You too.”

Erwin chuckled. “I’ll bring him back in one piece.”

You waved as both left your apartment. “Bye!”

Erwin walked with his hands in his pockets while Levi dragged his feet. “You have changed a lot.”

Levi pouted. “What do you mean?”

“You enjoyed it when you had to work, but now you pout and show a lot of emotions.” He paused by the car. “It’s a good thing.”

Levi climbed into the back and waited for Erwin to join him. “You think so?”

Erwin nodded. “I do.” He leaned forward and whispered to his driver before sitting back. “You two are good for each other. You bring out the best in each other.”

Levi smiled softly. “I think you’re right.” He tapped on his phone and texted you a bit. “So, what’s the job?”

“Now, I know we usually sort out vampires but the issue here is a human.”

Levi frowned. “Human? What?”

Erwin pulled his phone out and looked at the report. “This human is capturing vampires and bleeding them. He’s not become a vampire, he’s just using the blood to be stronger and heal up.” Erwin put his phone in his pocket. “He’s claiming he’s close to god.”

Levi rolled his eyes. “So, he’s pretending he is a prophet and achieving the lie by using vampire blood?”

“Yep.”

Levi clenched his fist tightly. “What the fuck are the police doing?”

“They called me.” Erwin looked over at Levi. “They said that we can have this. I was surprised that they called, but they weren’t sure how to handle this so it must be bad.”

Levi leaned his arms on his legs as he stared at the floor. He said your name with deep love. “I worry about her. If she knew how terrible things were, the things I’ve done, the things I do…she’ll…she’ll leave me.”

Erwin placed his hand on his dear friend’s shoulder. “She loves you more than you think. I know she’ll stay with you even after you’ve told her everything. Trust her, Levi.”

He nodded as he considered Erwin’s words. “You’re right. I trust in her and love her.” He climbed out of the car and glared at the high-rise building. “Tch, fucking businessmen.”

Erwin walked with Levi. “They’re the scum of the earth, especially the ones on wall street.” He paused by the door and saw a sign put up for vampires that said all are welcome. “Thank goodness for that sign.”

Levi stormed into the lobby and up to reception. “Erwin?”

Erwin leaned on the table. “Hello, miss, mind telling me what floor Mr White is on? I would really appreciate it.”

She blushed a little at seeing the two handsome vampires. “Top floor.”

He winked at her. “Thank you so much. Oh, and thank you for putting a sign up on the door.”

She nibbled her lip. “All are welcome here.”

Erwin chuckled. “What a lovely lady you are.”

Levi huffed. “We need to get going.”

Erwin walked with Levi. “Let’s race up the stairs. Shouldn’t take us long.”

The lady at the front desk gasped when the two men became blurred as they rushed off up the stairs. “Vampires are hot.”

Levi slammed the double doors open and stopped in front of Mr White’s desk. He saw Mr White flinch and drop a bottle causing blood to glug out onto the desk. “Mr White.”

He shoved his chair back, but Erwin grabbed the back of his office chair and trapped him. Mr White shook in his seat. “Mr Smith and Mr Ackerman! H-Hello.”

Erwin leaned over White’s shoulder. “Say, Mr White, that’s an interesting colour of drink you have for a human.”

“I-It’s a medical d-drink.”

“That so?”

Levi picked up the bottle and sniffed. “Vampire blood. Odd medical drink.”

Erwin hummed. “Interesting medicine, right Levi?”

Mr White laughed nervously. “I-it’s just medical!”

“Levi?”

Levi used his speed to act. He launched the chair across the room before grabbing Mr White’s neck and slamming him against the window causing it to crack. “Talk, Mr White, or I show you what happens to the human body when it falls from 40 floors down to a tarmac floor.”

Mr White sobbed. “Okay! Okay! It’s vampire blood.”

Erwin walked over and looked up at the scared businessman. “Where did you get the blood from?”

He nervously kept looking over to the same spot in his office. “I uh…it’s donated because I-I’m a prophet!”

Levi looked over at a painting of Mr White as Jesus. “You seem to really love that painting, huh?”

“N-No!”

“Erwin, you might want to take a look.” He flipped Mr White, crashed him into the marble floor before grabbing his ankle and dragging him. “Let’s have a look at what’s there.”

Mr White wheezed. “P-Please.”

The squeaking of Mr White’s sweaty body being pulled against the marble floor filled the room. Both the smart shoes of Levi and Erwin did join in, but Mr White’s sobs took over. All of them came to a stop in front of the large painting. Levi and Erwin weren’t religious, but this painting was making a mockery of those who did have faith.

Levi grunted. “It’s a door.”

Erwin grabbed the edge of the painting before ripping it off the wall to show a huge safe door. “I wonder what’s behind door number one. Levi?”

Levi handed Mr White’s leg over to Erwin. “Got it.” He walked up to the door, tapped his knuckles against it and hummed in thought. “Couple of feet thick.” He grabbed the handle and pulled a little causing it to groan loudly. “Easy.” He yanked the door off and held it above his head. “Where do you want this?”

Mr White screamed. “He’s a monster!”

Erwin pressed his foot against the man’s chest causing him to gasp. “Quiet.” He looked around. “Anywhere will do.”

Levi threw it to the side causing the marble floor to crack and splinter everywhere. He looked at the opening to see it was pitch black and something didn’t feel right. “Erwin?”

Erwin moved closer to the opening. “Something…it’s not right.”

Levi grabbed the back of Mr White’s neck and dragged him into the dark. “Tch, what the fuck do you have in here?” He banged his fist against the light switch making the room brighten up and reveal the horror inside. “Fuck.”

The room wasn’t large, but you didn’t need a big room to break people. Chained up by silver were four vampires, their wrists and ankles bleeding due to silver knives constantly pressing against them. Their eyes were just crusted puddles of silver that had clearly been poured into them. The smell inside was horrific which was unnatural for vampires. However, these vampires were not normal and appeared to be infected by bad blood. When a vampire’s blood becomes tainted they lose their minds and become mindless beasts. The vampire illness was long gone from the world, but this man had found a strain and some weak vampires.

“He’s bleeding them.”

Erwin leaned closer to a vampire and sniffed. “These vampires are practically dead.”

Levi shoved Mr White against a vampire’s oozing wound from the infection. “Tch, look what you’ve done, you shit! All these lives were ruined because of you!” He leaned towards Mr White’s ear. “Do you feel holy now?”

Erwin pulled back and took his phone out. He dialled the police captain and sighed. “Captain, I need a word with you. You were right, Mr White was bleeding vampires, but there is something very concerning here.” He looked over at Levi. “I’d get here before Levi kills Mr White.” He hummed as he listened. “Understood. Thank you.” He ended the call. “Levi? Try not to kill Mr White, the Captain is heading over here.”

Levi glanced over at his friend. “Can I break him?”

“Yes. Like I said, no killing.” Erwin put his hands in his pockets and watched as Levi covered the floor and wall in blood. The screams of Mr White were like music to his ears. He glanced at the vampires to see they weren’t reacting to human blood. “These vampires really are lost.”

Levi stopped beating Mr White for a bit. “No reaction. Tch, this fucker.”

“No. Killing.”

Levi shook a little as he tried to control his rage. “I just keep imagining it’s my bunny in there.”

Erwin patted Levi’s shoulder. “I understand.” He looked over at the entrance to the secret room to see the Captain enter. “Captain.”

The Captain looked around the room slowly as he tried to process everything. “What in the world?”

“I called you because there vampires here are almost mindless. He’s infected them with an old virus. We need to know where he got this and how.” He folded his arms. “Buying a virus is a bioterrorist act. If there was no virus, I would take care of this but you need to be involved.”

The Captain looked up at one of the vampires. “I would like to work with you on this. Having the support of your group would be appreciated.”

Erwin offered his hand. “You have our support.”

He shook Erwin’s hand before looking over at Levi. “Mind calling him off?”

“Levi? Let’s go home to your girlfriend.”

The Captain’s brow raised. “He has a girlfriend?”

Erwin nodded. “Yep and he’s madly in love with her, so it’s very useful in getting him to behave for me.”

Levi walked over to Erwin. “I need to clean before I see my bunny.”

“Use the bathroom here. I’ll finish chatting with the Captain.”

Levi bowed his head before hurrying past the police scaring them a little. He barged into the bathroom and cleaned himself up as panic started to set in. All Levi could think about was how his actions would terrify you. He strongly believed that you would hate him if you knew all the things he did. He didn’t want to lose you, he couldn’t lose you because you were the love of his life.

“Levi?” Erwin leaned in the doorway. “You’re spiralling. She loves you for you.”

Levi turned and faced his friend. “I just worry I’ll frighten her.”

“You two need to talk.”

Levi walked with Erwin. “What if she leaves me? I can’t live without her.”

Erwin chuckled. “You had a life before her.”

“It was a bad life. It’s better with her.” He whined a little. “I need her.”

You huffed as you looked between two bottles for Levi. Both would heat blood for him, but you didn’t know which one he’d like more. You pouted as you thought hard and then it clicked. “Ah! This one.” You decided to get him one with bunnies all over it and then hurried to the section with human thermal cups and grabbed one with black cats on.

“Batbunny?”

You gripped your basket as your hair stood on end. You loved meeting fans, but there were some mental and physical scars from some crazy fans. You slowly turned to see a woman smiling with a cute goth look. “H-Hello.”

She gasped and bounced a little. “I’m a fan. I love your streams and videos!”

You relaxed because the vibes you got from her were soft. “Thank you so much.”

“Are you releasing more merch soon? I’d love to get more. You make such cute things.”

You pulled a face as you thought. “I wasn’t thinking about it, but maybe? I did talk to the team and I was thinking maybe a witch bunny?”

“That’d be so cool!” She eyed your basket. “Sorry, I stopped you while shopping.”

“Oh, I don’t mind.”

She shifted a little on the spot. “Could I get a picture or something?”

You shifted close to her. “Mm.” You smiled with her as she took a selfie. “Do you want me to sign anything?”

She admired the picture before gasping in delight. “Really? That’d be so cool!” She fished around in her bag-shaped like a coffin and pulled out a little book. “Thank you.”

You signed your name and drew a little bunny. “How are things? How are you doing?”

She took the book back. “I’m doing better than I was. I reached a dark moment, but I’m fighting through it and having you there most nights just chatting and playing games…it really helped me.”

You welled up. “I know how you feel. Do you want a hug?”

“Y-Yes.”

You hugged her tightly. “You’re so brave, strong and amazing to be here in this life still. Keep fighting.” You pulled back and smiled. “You are loved.”

She smiled. “Yes.” She gasped as something clicked. “Oh, are you shopping for you and your new fella? Is he here?”

You hugged yourself. “He’s not here. I wish he was, but he’s been very busy with work.”

You were right, Levi had been incredibly busy and it was due to work. Levi made it very clear to you that he loved you and it wasn’t avoidance, he had something bad pop up. He had been honest with you and told you about the tainted blood, the virus and the sick vampires he’d found. Levi said he was going to tell you everything that was going on in his life and the things he did. All you needed to do was wait for him to come home and he was going to open up more.

She nodded. “I bet you miss him.”

“So much.” You let out a long sigh. “I hope to see him soon. I’m doing a shop for him right now.”

“He has very pretty tattoos.”

You nibbled your lip as you thought about Levi’s beautiful hands, muscular arms and the stunning tattoos on him. “He does.”

She blushed. “I should leave you be.” She looked behind you as her eyes widened. “Oh…oh wow. He’s…”

You turned around to see Levi walking around the shop looking like an angry guard dog. He spotted you and instantly lit up, he smiled softly and hurried over to you. You giggled at how he went from someone scary to someone wonderful. “Levi.”

Levi charged for you and ignored everyone around him. He tackled you into a hug and hummed in delight. “I missed you.”

You hugged Levi with one arm. “I missed you too.”

He pulled back a bit. “You hugged me with one arm.”

You showed him your basket. “I have a shopping basket.”

“But.”

You placed it down and hugged him tightly. “Mm.”

“Better.” He released you and noticed the goth girl. “Oh, hello.”

You petted Levi’s chest. “She’s a fan of mine.”

Levi picked up your basket. “Thank you for being a fan.”

She squealed in delight. “I can’t believe I’m meeting Leviathan. You two are just so perfect for each other.”

Levi pulled you against him. “Mine.”

“I better leave you both to it, I can imagine you have things to do.” She waved to you. “Bye Batbunny!”

You waved to her. “Bye-bye.”

Levi gripped your basket. “What you getting?”

“Secret.”

He pouted a bit. “Can I buy it for you?”

You shook your head. “No. I’m buying you things.”

“I don’t need anything, I need only you.”

You patted his cheek. “I understand, but I want to spoil you.” You held his sleeve and pulled him around the shop until you were done. “Close your eyes while I’m paying for everything, okay?”

Levi chuckled. “Okay, closing them.”

You paid for everything and patted his cheek. “All sorted.”

Levi opened his eyes and smiled. “I love looking at you.” Nuzzled his nose against yours. “Oh, I’ll carry that bag for you.” He held it and took your hand. “Let’s go home.”

You hummed a laugh as he showered your hand with kisses. “Levi?”

He blushed a little. “Forgive me. I’m just so happy.” He hummed and led you to a car. “I drove by car today, hope that’s okay? I know you love my bike.”

You hurried over to his black car and marvelled at its beauty. “This car is perfect,” you said. “It looks comfy.”

He opened the door for you. “Get comfy, okay?”

You slipped into your seat and wiggled into the spot. You waited for Levi to get in before speaking. “It’s very roomy.” You looked over at Levi and rubbed your thighs together. “You have tinted windows so people can’t see in.”

Levi tapped his thumbs against the wheel. “It’s a good car.”

“Room in the back too. Do these seats go back as well?”

“Yes.” He glanced over at you. “What are you getting at?”

You gripped your seatbelt. “I have some thoughts and some ideas.”

He chuckled. “Really? What kind of ideas?”

You massaged his thigh and moved your hand up slowly. “I want to do something for you.”

He gripped the wheel tightly. “I uh…what…what kind of thing?”

“Pull over somewhere private and I’ll show you.”

He turned his car. “We’ll go to yours as it’s close.”

You pouted a bit. “Okay.”

He parked in the little spot he had at your place. “I’m curious about what’s happening in your cute head.” He grabbed your bags and followed you into the lift. “You’re a fun little mystery.”

You giggled as you leaned against the lift wall. “A mystery only you can explore and solve.”

Levi growled a little as he eyed you. “Just the way I like it.”

You walked out of the lift and unlocked your door. “Come on, handsome. Follow the cute little bunny.”

Levi raced after you and tackled you into a hug. “Bunny.”

You wrapped your arms around him as you kissed him. “I love you.”

“I love you always.”

You pulled him along to your sofa and sat him down. “Get comfy.”

He parted his legs and hummed as he watched you. “What are you planning?”

You ran your hands up his thighs slowly as you knelt. “You look so cute. You’re a man in control and confident, but as soon as I’m not shy you get all flustered.”

He gulped hard. “You just keep me on my toes so much.”

You undid the button on his trousers. “Levi?”

“Mm?”

You looked up at him through your lashes. “Can I uh…you know…suck your dick?”

He went bright red. “U-uh, y-yes. S-Sure.” He pulled at his shirt a bit. “Don’t f-force yourself though.”

“I asked for his. If it makes you comfortable I won’t.”

“I’m comfortable. I just.” He laughed nervously. “I mean…it’s you. I love you. I’m very attracted to you. I just…I don’t want to disappoint you.”

You leaned up and cupped his face. “I’ll love you no matter what. I’m sure you look and taste perfect. Besides, it’s okay if you don’t last as long as you want.”

He caressed your cheek. “If you let me touch you or eat you after.”

You giggled. “Deal, now sit back and relax.”

He watched you open his trousers and stare at his bulge. He grunted when you pushed your hand into his boxers and pulled his erection out. His hard length sprung out and tapped against his abs. Normally Levi was confident, but with the love of his life looking at his most intimate part, he was embarrassed. He turned his head to the side and whined a little.

Your eyes widened in awe at how beautiful he looked. He was thick, not too big with a cute pink tip. His shaft was a lovely smooth and light colour with a vein wrapped around it. “Levi.”

He placed his hand over his face. “Tch, I know it’s ugly.”

You touched his tip before running your finger down his shaft. “You’re so pretty.”

Levi moaned at your touch as a shiver ran through him. “S-So…mmm…” He peeked a bit. “R-Really?”

You massaged his length. “Mm, very pretty.” You leaned closer and kissed his tip. “Your skin is so soft too.” You titled your head and kissed his cock. “Hmm. Heavy too.”

“Y-you like it? You like me?”

You nodded as you licked your lips. “I love it.” You stuck your tongue out and ran it up his length causing him to sigh in delight. “Perfect.”

He relaxed against the sofa and closed his eyes as your tongue dragged over him like a cute little kitten. He pushed his fingers in his hair and hummed in delight. A shiver consumed him when you sank your mouth on him. Each hot inch of your mouth was incredible to him. He shifted his legs a little more and felt his body pulsing as you moved your head up and down on him. Each movement from you was electrifying.

He bit his hand a moment. “Fuck, how are you so good.” His fang pierced his hand a little causing his blood to run down it. “Such a hot cute mouth you have.”

He looked down at you and watched for a while as he began to lightly pant. He reached down and massaged his fingers in your hair. He smiled when you looked up at him and hummed against him. The vibration of your hum sent Levi into another world of pure euphoria. He ran his hand to your cheek and ear allowing him to caress you. He chuckled when you hummed a little and mewled against him, he knew you were seeking something from him.

Levi tucked your hair behind your ear. “Good girl.”

The purr of his words of praise was delicious to you. Something about Levi praising you like he did was addictive to hear, you wanted to listen to it for the rest of your life. You tried to take all of him, but it was too much. You pulled back and coughed a little as you felt embarrassed that you let him down, but you were wrong he wasn’t disappointed at all.

“Shh, it’s okay. You’re doing wonderfully, my little bunny. You feel so good.”

You smiled at him. “Really?”

“Yes.” He pulled you up. “Come here.” He kissed you and sighed in contentment. “That’s my bunny.”

“Can I keep going?”

He nodded and let you move back down. “I’m all yours.”

Levi melted against the sofa as you bobbed your head up and down on him, your tongue caressing him in all the right places. He couldn’t control himself, the urge to cum was building up inside him. He gripped the sofa hard as he resisted the desire to buck. He panted as he felt his pleasure increase. His fangs began to tingle as his hunger for your blood increased. He clenched his jaw and growled.

He gasped when he felt his release. He moaned as his cock twitched in your mouth and filled it with cum. He grunted as you sucked and gulped every last drop. “Bunny.”

You popped your mouth from him and smiled. “Did I do-?”

Levi used his speed to slam you against the sofa before you could finish talking. His lips were on yours as he kissed you passionately. He pulled back from your lips, bit the crook of your neck hard and gulped down your blood. “Mm.”

You held Levi against you as you moaned. “Levi.”

He pulled back as his lips and fangs dripped with blood. He licked his lips and moaned your name. “You are a delicious little bunny.”

You felt your whole body heat up. “I-I am?”

He kissed down your body with blown pupils making his eyes look almost black. In one swift motion, he whipped your bottoms off. He admired your thick thighs as they pressed together. “Why are your legs closed?”

You whined a little. “Because I umm…”

Levi massaged the back of your legs as he lightly kissed your knee. “You’re perfect, sexy, cute and lovable.” He parted your legs and dragged his lips down between your legs. “And all mine.”

You cried out in bliss when he sucked on the inside of your thigh before biting down. He moved your legs over his shoulders and dove for your heat. You gasped as his hands plunged and pierced your pubic mound. He lapped up the blood before taking your clit into his mouth. He squeezed your thighs as he sucked and licked you over and over. Your body was on fire with pure pleasure.

Your thighs pressed against Levi’s head making him growl. Your toes squeezed in delight as euphoric bliss rushed through you. The way Levi’s tongue moved against you was such heavenly bliss, you’d never experienced anything like this before. Levi was pure perfection, and he seemed to just know your body and exactly what you needed. He knew how your body worked and what you craved.

You reached behind you and gripped the cushions. “Le-Levi.” You arched your back. “Oh, fuck, Levi.”

He squeezed your thigh as his tongue lovingly rolled against you. He purred sending a vibration through you. A pleasure-filled gasp came from you. Levi could sense everything about you through to your blood and it was music to his ears as he sensed you enjoying everything he was giving you. He could feel you were close and he could wait to taste your blood when you came hard.

You shifted under him. “A-Ah, I’m…mm.” You covered your mouth in embarrassment as you came hard. “Mm! F-fuck.”

Levi lapped at your pussy before crawling up the sofa. “Darling bunny, you are delicious.” He panted a bit. “I want to be inside you.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck. “I want it too.”

He shifted a little before pressing his tip into you. He pushed in all the way slowly so he could feel you stretch around him. “You feel incredible.”

You panted a little. “Mm, you’re perfect.”

He tangled his fingers in your hair as he rocked slowly against you, each drag and push of his hips moved his cock perfectly in your pussy. “I love you. I adore you. I need you.”

You dragged your nails across his back. “I will always need you, my love.”

He grabbed the arm of the sofa behind your head and pumped his hips a little faster. “I need your body to remember me, need me, desire me. I need your body to crave me and only be satisfied by me.”

You arched your back and grabbed Levi’s slender hips. “Y-Yes, Levi!”

He gripped the arm of the sofa more causing it to groan under his strength. “You’re mine, mine, all mine.”

Your eyes rolled back into your head as his thick warm member rammed itself in and out of you, each movement pressed against your g-spot and placed you in a constant state of pleasure. Words failed you as the man above you sang your praise and worshipped your body. You were at the pure mercy of a blood-drinking beast above you and you loved it. There was no going back after being with his man, he was perfection personified.

Levi dove for your neck and peppered loving kisses on your skin. He couldn’t help but smirk when you whimpered and lifted your neck closer to his lips like you were asking for a bite. He panted and sighed against your skin and ear setting your nerves ablaze with bliss. Teasing you was another delicious meal within itself, but deeply teasing you would have to wait for another time.

Your toes squeezed tighter. “Le-Levi.” The desire to be bitten was consuming you. “Please.”

He parted his lips before latching down on you. The cry of delight coming from you was enough to make him rut against you in an animalistic way. Such a beautiful creature you were below him and he couldn’t wait to make love to you all night. He had yet to inform you that a vampire’s stamina, especially a pureblood, was unmatched and almost unending. You were in for a long night.

He moaned against you as your blood pumped into his mouth was sweet, which meant you were cumming and you were cumming hard. He smiled when you screamed out and shook below him. He pressed himself against you as you bucked and spasmed in bliss. He released your neck, cut his tongue and then licked the wound making it heal.

You panted softly as your body tingled all over. You weakly caressed Levi’s cheek as he licked his kissable lips. “Mm, that…you’re…”

He turned his head and kissed your hand. “Darling bunny, you are in for a long, long night. Vampires have impressive stamina.” He leaned closer to you as you gasped. “I’m going to get you cumming all night long before I stuff your pretty pussy with my cum.”

You squeaked in delight. “Levi.”

“Don’t worry, I can only impregnate a vampire. So, you are safe for now and get your pussy filled with plenty of cum.” He knelt up and massaged your pelvis right where his cock was buried making you mewl. “But when I turn you, I’ll breed you like the good little bunny you are.” He eyed you. “Would you like that?”

You nodded as pleasure throbbed inside you. “Fill me with all your cum, Levi. I want to always be filled with it. I want it all. Stuff me with it so that it almost leaks out. When you turn me, breed me good. I’ll give you the best little babies.”

Levi blushed hard. “They’ll be adorable.”

You giggled as you linked your arms around his neck. “What a cute dom you are.”

[tiny-minecraft-rabbit]

Ooh! Please could you do Ethdubs with 10 or 20?

Etho moved around his kitchen, making his coffee with the old French press he hadn't touched since the day Doc had gifted it to him. He was tempted to turn his generator on just to power his coffee machine; but they were barely into late fall, the power outage caused by an accident involving a power line instead of the usual snowstorms that would cause two to three in a span of two months when winter hit. He didn't need to waste the gas when the power would be back on today and he only needed to fend off the cold with his own jacket and some coffee made with a French press and water heated on his gas stove.

He poured the small pot of boiling water into the French press, because void knows he doesn't actually have a kettle, and leaned back against the counter to let his coffee steep or whatever you were supposed to do with a French press.

It was the quietness of the moment that let him hear the soft scrap of wood, something that was usually so quiet it couldn't be heard over the usual bustle of his own movements let alone if he had something playing on the TV or his radio tuned to the news. He glanced at the board trim of his counter, a singular spot he had learned to find after many of visits from the second resident of the house. A little door, cut into the board trim, barely noticeable from the outside unless you knew where to look and even then it was pretty well blended into the grain of the wood. It was pushed open and his housemate, wrapped in his usual cloak covered in dried moss, dragged himself out.

The moment Bdubs saw him he was sent the fiercest glare he's ever gotten from him. Etho was really hoping he wasn't about to be blamed for the power outage. If Bdubs yelled at him about the cold he'd probably trudge right out to the generator and flip it on, and wouldn't that be annoying? Going the whole morning without flipping it on just to let a little guy bully him into it.

"Etho," Bdubs growled, crossing his arms the moment he was standing in the middle of the counter.

"Bdubs," Etho replied calmly, though after a moment he shifted his gaze and started glancing around the kitchen. Even at three (and a 3/8ths!) inches tall Bdubs had an intimidating glare.

"It's cold," Bdubs said shortly.

Etho hummed. "I thought you had the best insulated walls a borrower could ever have?" He questioned, directly quoting Bdubs from a few weeks ago.

"I do!" He was quick to defend. Offense to defense in an instance. "I- I just-! Why on Earth is it so freaking cold? You usually flip the generator on within the hour!"

It was still weird, but something he was getting intimately used to, hearing Bdubs talk about his usual habits. To Etho, they had only known each other a few months, having caught Bdubs when he was attempting to borrower while too sick to stand. Bdubs, however, had been in the home for about as long as Etho himself had. Years to memorize his schedule and habits and favorite foods. Bdubs knew him with an intimacy that very few people even got close to. He was slowly doing the same with Bdubs, learning each little thing about his housemate, to be able to pick up where and when he'd be and what he'd do and say. Getting to know every bit of him that he could.

"The power should be back on soon. It's not that cold, Dubs, you can wait it out."

"Maybe for you!" Bdubs shouted back, "Big oaf! You're big enough to heat up a whole room yourself."

Etho chuckled, "I'm really not."

There was a half second of silence, not anything anyone else would notice but Etho had gotten used to Bdubs' quick tongue that any moment of hesitation to think meant he was about to say something really interesting. "Well prove it then! If you're soo cold too, then I bet you couldn't warm me up."

His eyes immediately shot back down to the borrower. Bdubs was still arm crossed, still looking determined as ever to get what he wanted. Etho thought he had just wanted the generator back on, for the heater to start warming up his tunnels in the walls again. Seems he had something else in mind now.

Etho couldn't help the growing smirk, "Oh? Is that what this is about? Want me to warm you up?"

"N-No!" Bdubs replied, "Don't think I want this! I just think you're holding out on me. You could easily control the heat in the house and you're purposely making it cold to spite me! Now, I would be inclined to believe it's "not that cold" to you, cause the whole being a giant thing, but you insist you're freaking cold too. So, I know you're just being mean to be mean. How about that?"

Etho rolled his eyes. "Right. I see. Okay, I'll "prove" to you that I'm "cold"," he said, making the quotations with his fingers.

Bdubs either didn't notice or didn't care. "You better!"

Etho hesitated a moment, definitely still not used to picking up Bdubs, before setting his hand down on the counter. Bdubs had less of a moment of hesitation before climbing right on.

Bdubs blinked down at Etho's palm his own palms pushing into the skin (along with his knees), "What the heck? Why are your hands actually just as cold as mine?"

Etho slowly lifted Bdubs up, his other hand cupping around the back so there was one less side for Bdubs to tumble off of. "Told you."

Bdubs shot him a glare as he stood up. He looked around for a second before spying the sleeve opening of Etho's jacket. "Ah-ha!"

Etho had no clue what he was doing until Bdubs had shoved his entire hand down his sleeve. The little limb was cold against the warmed skin within his jacket.

"Just as I thought! You are holding out on me, your jacket is better than my moss- better at keeping in heat that is. My moss is the best in every other way, of course."

Etho sighed heavily. Bdubs was gunning to try and get into the jacket and that meant one of two actions. Either sticking Bdubs in one of the pockets until he complains about the amount of swaying and Etho takes him out for him to complain again OR Etho sits down somewhere and lets Bdubs curl up wherever he wants and Etho gets nothing else done until the power comes back on.

Then, Etho remembered another option.

He set Bdubs back down on the counter, ignoring his complaining, and flipped his jacket open. He has an inside breast pocket, one that he did not often use.

He dug his fingers in, making sure it was empty, and pulled out a packet of travel tissues and set it aside. With nothing else inside the pocket he scooped Bdubs back up. He gave the borrower a moment to realize what was happening, and when no actual complaints came out his mouth, he slipped Bdubs into the breast pocket and let his jacket sit against his chest again.

For just a moment the weight of Bdubs was heavy in his pocket. Especially as he readjusted and got comfortable, but soon it was as unnoticeable as the packet of tissues had been.

"You good, Bdubs?"

Instead of the usual shouting, Bdubs voice came out quietly, something so soft in the words, "Your heartbeat is so loud..."

"Wh- What was that?" Etho asked.

There was some sputtering and then, "Nothing! Just that I was right! This is much warmer. I am a genius."

Etho let the blush creep away from his face, chuckling softly, "Yeah. You're a real genius."

[perpetualcontrolleddrowning]

Moshang Fic - Part 2

half of something else

JRaylin441

Summary: The tomfoolery continues

Content Warnings: blackmail and some vague talk of bad childhoods and emotional neglect

Read it on ao3 here (x)

Read Part 1 (x)

Read Part 3 (x)

Mobei-Jun is not going to ask for help. He is not the sort of demon who does such shameful things. Luckily, Tianlang-Jun has made it clear that he is the sort of demon that likes to stop by and offer unsolicited help, so that will not be a barrier.

He was not expecting it to be so effective, using words rather than actions. Qinghua still ran away, but it seemed as though he noticed, this time. That Mobei-Jun was interested.

There is something hopeful in Mobei-Jun's chest. This does not often happen. He was raised in a family where trusting others, hoping for things. These were not done. To be able to do so now...

He has been attempting to court Qinghua for years. That lowly general had no right asking for permission after Mobei-Jun had cooked Qinghua's meal for the feast the night before. He is lucky his head is not displayed as a trophy this very moment.

"Well you're all smiles today," Tianlang-Jun drawls as he slinks his way into the room where Mobei-Jun is consulting with the royal tailor to plan out new pieces to both his and Qinghua's wardrobes. This is patently untrue. Mobei-Jun's face is flat as ever. "Turn down that sunshine or your human might start to get jealous."

"Tianlang-Jun."

"Present and accounted for. But that's not as interesting as the obvious joy I'm seeing from you." Tianlang-Jun navigates effortlessly around the silent tailor and chooses a seat for himself. "Has our plan been working, then?"

"Qinghua came to talk last night." He needs to give a little ground for any of this to work.

"Oh, did he? Good. I'd hoped he might."

"He said you stole his list."

"I most certainly did, and you're welcome for that. It sounds like you two were able to get all cozy because of it. Did he fuck you?"

Mobei-Jun is holding one arm out for the tailor to measure. Without even glancing away, he manifests a dagger of ice and hurls it in Tianlang-Jun's direction. He knows it's not going to hit, and he is right. Tianlang-Jun knocks it out of the air and laughs good-naturedly when it hits the wall and shatters behind him.

"Not yet, then. You're far too pent-up." Mobei-Jun can feel a tic in the muscle behind his eyebrow. He wants to banish Tianlang-Jun from ever setting foot in his palace. If he thought it would work, he might. Most likely, though, it would simply increase whatever this absurd behavior is.

"You took his list."

"I did. You already said that."

"Give it back."

"He knows what he needs to do to get it back, and you're welcome for that. I'm doing all of this for you, you know."

"Give it back."

"If this is the kind of brilliant negotiating technique that you bring to the table, then I'm suddenly understanding a lot better just how much you rely on your little human."

"Give it back."

"I'm beginning to think you don't want me here. Which, of course, couldn't possibly be true, since I'm a delight and also could defeat you in front of your entire court."

The tailor clears their throat delicately. Mobei-Jun shoots a murderous look in Tianlang-Jun's direction. Tianlang-Jun smiles back guilelessly.

Mobei-Jun pauses for a moment. Orders the tailor to leave the room. If they are going to have this conversation, he would rather not continue to lose face in front of his subjects. The tailor follows the command quickly and silently. This is the kind of obedience Mobei-Jun is accustomed to.

When the tailor leaves, he waits for Tianlang-Jun to continue with the irritating chatter. Tianlang-Jun has a ridiculously smug smile on his face. He does not speak.

Mobei-Jun does not speak.

They sit in silence for almost a quarter shichen. Mobei-Jun needs to remember that he can't win in a test of patience against a demon who spent the last few decades alone under a mountain. He could wait here for several shichen as well, but he does need an answer, and he has several more things he must do today if he has any hope of maintaining Qinghua's good will.

"Last night."

"When you didn't fuck Qinghua," Tianlang-Jun says, almost immediately. As if he had been preparing that response. Mobei-Jun wants to try and kill him again.

"I attempted to use more words." Mobei-Jun's face is burning at this admission. This is the only thing that has worked in his years-long attempt to court Qinghua. This is the path forward.

"Oh fabulous!" Tianlang-Jun's grin goes from smug to eager, and he leans forward over the space between them. "You listened to my advice! And how did your man of words respond to it?"

"He listened." For many of the people Mobei-Jun talks to, this would be a response that would be difficult to parse. Tianlang-Jun lets out a long, low whistle.

"Oh, so he really liked it, then.  I knew that would work for him. Humans, they always want you to say things out loud and communicate. My Xiyan always wanted that too. And she wasn't even as into words as your man is."

"You knew that would work."

"It wasn't hard to figure out." Mobei-Jun can feel the way his face slams shut at those words. "Oh. You really hadn't figured that out yet? This might be worse than I thought."

"How did you know." This is the extent of Mobei-Jun's ability. He has never asked for help like this before. If it wasn't Qinghua, he still would not be. This is not something he does. He does not have the words.

"He keeps lists. He keeps a brush behind his ear. He writes things down. His room is full of books. When you ask about the books, he can talk about them for hours. How did you not know?"

"Qinghua has always behaved in such a way."

"Ah, so you wrote it off and took it all for granted." Tianlang-Jun strokes at his chin as though he is an elder stroking a beard, even though he has no such beard. Mobei-Jun reaches deep for the calm inside him to keep himself from starting another fight. "The same trap that many old married couples can fall into, except you aren't even married yet. Haven't even kissed yet!"

Mobei-Jun sits in silence for several more minutes, sifting through the raging fury within himself to try and find words to ask the questions he needs to ask, rather than starting and losing another fight.

"What words did you say. To your human." He can't make it sound like a question. He can't concede that ground.

"Ah, the age-old question. What words will woo a human? What words worked so well last night, that you've already come around to my side?"

"I told him that he is needed here."

"Appreciation! That not a bad start at all, considering all the things he seems to run around here. I can't read that ridiculous list of his, but I know enough to see that he seems to be managing everything on the demon and human sides of things. Appreciation would probably always go well with that one. Couldn't hurt to use some flattery as well. He definitely has little in the way of self-esteem, so he might be easy to get to that way."

Mobei-Jun throws another ice dagger, because Tianlang-Jun has already demonstrated that it will not cause him to leave and because it helps him feel better about sitting here in the same room as this demon.

"Qinghua is aware that he is useful."

"I mean, of course he's useful, but surely you must find him attractive too? Not that I could ever understand just how that happened, there's no way you would be putting up this much of a fuss if you didn't want to fuck him."

Mobei-Jun was wrong. He won't sit here for this. When he stands to leave, Tianlang-Jun makes a cooing, cloying kind of noise and stands up too. His arm drapes over Mobei-Jun's shoulders in a way that makes his skin crawl.

"Don't go, don't go. I forgot how young you are. I'll be kinder, promise." Tianlang-Jun holds out his hands in a sign of innocence and defenselessness. Mobei-Jun doesn't buy it for a moment, but he does sit back down. "I wasn't kidding. It seems like your man doesn't have a very high regard for himself. Flattery about his physical appearance could probably get you far. Especially if you keep this whole appreciation for his work up at the same time."

"I do not need your advice on how to say nice things to my advisor."

Tianlang-Jun stares at him in disbelief for a second. "Right. Which is why you definitely did ask me for that exact thing at the start of this conversation."

"It is time for dinner."

"All this work I do, and you're just going to try to walk away from our conversation without a thank you. You don't even deserve the dinner surprise I've got set up for you." Tianlang-Jun somehow manages to sail out of the room ahead of Mobei-Jun, turned to face him and continue the conversation while he is walking. "You still should definitely keep up with those letters, though. He appreciates the written word, your boy."

Mobei-Jun grunts rather than admit that any of this has been helpful in any sort of way. Tianlang-Jun laughs and glides down the hallway toward the banquet hall, since everyone else needs to be there before the king anyway.

When Mobei-Jun sits down at the table in the front and center of the room, he is ready for it to be a banquet like many others he has attended in his life. These are boring moments of posturing. He will sit and be quiet. People will look at him and decide that he is thinking or saying whatever it is that they want him to be saying, and then he will leave. And then they will leave. He has done this so many times in his life.

Qinghua has an open invitation, by nature of the multiple courting acts Mobei-Jun has performed, to sit at the head table. He does not. Instead, Qinghua usually sits at a table along the side of the room. Mobei-Jun hates this. It does not appropriately communicate his rank and value in the court. Mobei-Jun loves this. It allows him a much better view of Qinghua than he would ever get if he were sitting at his side.

When Mobei-Jun arrives to the banquet, Qinghua is not in his seat. This should be considered a high offense, considering that the king has arrived. Mobei-Jun won't enforce that. Qinghua can do whatever he wants.

It is a notable change in behavior. He likes to arrive early so he can listen to gossip and conversation. He says it's one of the most helpful times for his map of important people. Mobei-Jun suspects that, whatever is happening, Tianlang-Jun is involved. He seems bent on disrupting every pattern and ritual in the court.

When Mobei-Jun sits, the food is brought out. Immediately, the room explodes into noise. All illusions of formality disappear. There are several rotting animal carcasses brought to the center tables. Blood in pitchers. Fruit and vegetables and some minimal starch.

Usually, a specific platter is set before Mobei-Jun. Today, there are two smaller platters set to either side of him.

Mobei-Jun does not spend time looking around or concerned. The food will come when it will come. Or it will not. He does not particularly care about eating either way.

And then, from the side door into the banquet hall, Qinghua comes skittering in. Mobei-Jun automatically finds himself orienting all his attention in that direction.

Qinghua is carrying a dish of food. This is very strange, because Mobei-Jun is the one who cooks for him, or he eats what is prepared by the kitchens. If someone else in the court has dared to cook for him, Mobei-Jun will find them and remove their heads from their shoulders.

Qinghua steps up to the dais and places the dish before his king. It is in a low, wide bowl. There are light noodles, a dark sauce that smells of meat, and cut carrots and vegetables. Mobei-Jun looks down at it in confusion and then up at Qinghua. The dish is not as elaborate or beautifully arranged as the things he normally eats. There is a possible explanation for this. Mobei-Jun will not consider it until Qinghua says that it is the case.

"Zha jiang mian," Qinghua mumbles. He shoots a significant look toward Tianlang-Jun as he sets it down. Tianlang-Jun nods back. Another departure from their typical pattern. Another clear sign of interference from Tianlang-Jun. Mobei-Jun will not consider the possible explanation until Qinghua says that it is the case. It does not take long for the explanation to come. If someone stares at Qinghua silently for long enough, he usually moves to fill the silence. "You said the other night that it's your favorite food." Mobei-Jun did say that. He said that because one time, early on in their knowing each other, Qinghua had eaten it, cooked by one of the few cooks at the time that knew how to prepare human cuisine. It was one of the first things he had expressed enjoying about the Northern Palace. Mobei-Jun does not like food, but he wants to know about the things that make Qinghua happy. Make him willing to stay. "I just thought, if I was going to make you something, it would probably be best to make something you would actually like, since I know you don't really like much food at all, most of the time. And that seemed like a big waste of time, to try and make something if you wouldn't even like it."

"Qinghua made this dish," Mobei-Jun clarifies, because he needs to be absolutely sure.

"Ah ha ha, yeah." Qinghua scratches at the back of his head. "Yeah, I made it for you. You know. You cook noodles and stuff for me all the time and I thought I should return the favor." Another glance at Tianlang-Jun, but that does not matter right now. "So, it might not be as good as some of the other stuff you get to eat all the time, and it's fine if you want to throw it away and eat your regular stuff. I had the kitchen prepare a backup meal too, so they can bring that out if you want. Actually, let me just go get that right now. That would probably be better. Yeah. Okay. Wait here and I'll-"

Mobei-Jun grabs Qinghua's wrist tightly. Not so tightly that it will bruise. He knows the difference and carefully maintains it. It causes Qinghua's mouth to snap shut, the way physical touch often does. Before Qinghua can run off and ruin it, Mobei-Jun scoops a generous bite of the noodles into his mouth. Qinghua watches with the wide eyes of cornered prey as he chews it slowly and swallows. Only when Mobei-Jun feels that he has established his point does he let go.

"Go sit down, Qinghua," he orders, because Qinghua cooked for him and presented that food to him in front of the entire court. It's a blatant act of demonic courting and Mobei-Jun will not stand for any hint of a suggestion that it might be taken away.

Qinghua is still watching him with wide eyes, even as he pulls his hand back and holds it against his chest.

"Yes, My King." There's a panicked little smile at the corner of his mouth and Mobei-Jun wants to bite it. Bite it until his teeth are bloodied and then bite down Qinghua's neck until he is scarred and claimed in a way that will never be mistaken. He'll mount Qinghua now, before the entire court, and then dress him only in the finest of gauzy silks, make it impossible to cover the mark of his king's teeth.

He does not do this. Qinghua would not like it. Probably. It will at least require further information gathering. Instead, he holds Qinghua's gaze as he savors the entirety of the dish before him. Every now and then, he pauses his staring at Qinghua to move his gaze across the court, meeting the eyes of every demon present. Let it be very clear what is going on right now.

The food is just like any other food. He does not particularly enjoy the experience of chewing. The texture of chewed food on his tongue. The way it freezes as it moves down his throat before landing heavy in his stomach.

It does not matter. This is food that Qinghua prepared for him. He presented it before the entire court. Mobei-Jun relishes each bite.

*~*~*

Here's a fun fact: Shang Qinghua knows how almost every person in this universe likes to fuck. Or have sex, whatever. Even the characters who never got to have their own on-screen erotica. It's not just because he's a horny pervert, though that is definitely true. It's also just, he's always found it to be an important detail about a character. How does someone behave, when they're being vulnerable and intimate with someone? Are they even able to be that open? Do they control the encounter from start to finish?

This means that, theoretically, he knows exactly what Mobei-Jun is like in bed. Probably. Any doubt comes from the fact that, one time, he managed to coax some details out of a very drunk Cucumber-bro. It is possible to change things. Butterfly effect and all that shit. He definitely never wrote his son to be the kind of man who cries all over the person he's fucking and begs for the opportunity to bottom or suck a dick. Life events change people.

So, that means that he might not know everything there is to know about how Mobei-Jun behaves when he is having sex with someone. Shang Qinghua is reminding himself of this fact over and over again as he once again finds himself standing outside his bedroom door late at night.

The door opens at the first knock. Mobei-Jun is similarly dressed-down, but does not have the same groggy, grumpy expression of the newly awakened. Shang Qinghua can see from the doorway that there is a fire roaring happily in the fireplace, and there is some level of heat radiating out from the doorway. It's bringing a soft blue flush to his king's cheeks. Shang Qinghua is not looking at that, because if he looks at that he's going to explode and then it'll be a whole mess for the servants to clean up and, more than that, it will make it so that he never gets an answer about all of this, and he needs for there to be an answer.

"Explain this," Shang Qinghua demands, slapping the folded parchment of a letter against his king's chest. This potentially has the added benefit of pressing his hands up against the exposed skin of Mobei-Jun's collarbones and tits, but Shang Qinghua wouldn't know anything about that, because he's not paying attention. He doesn't even notice the way that he can feel the cold of his king's skin through the thin layer of the parchment, the way that the harsh, carved lines of his musculature cause the parchment to bend and conform to the dizzying shape of him.

Shang Qinghua isn't paying attention to that. Because there is something infinitely more pressing in the words contained on that parchment. It was waiting for him (along with his daily pile of mail and the desperate relief from the return of the Overarching To Do List), sitting innocently on his desk as if its departure hadn't spelled potential disaster for everyone in both realms. It had worked beautifully as a mechanism of blackmail. Shang Qinghua is going to have to figure out a fail-safe right now or at least in the next couple days, because he doesn't have enough to do already but he also cannot have something like this happen again.

The letter had sat there, on the bottom of the pile of letters, with his name scrawled across the top in familiar handwriting, just as it had been for the past few days. 

Qinghua,

The meal you prepared for me was appreciated. Thank you.

You wore the colors of my house at the banquet tonight. I appreciate seeing you in blue. It will always be a color you are welcome to wear.

You organized an effective banquet. Well done.

Again, there was no signature. Again, there was no need for a signature. Shang Qinghua knew immediately who wrote it, even if it is utterly impossible. Obviously, that is his king's handwriting. Those are his king's stiff sentences and phrases.

But the words are not at all the sort of thing his king would say. He has known this demon for the past thirty years. Since he was nothing more than a headstrong adolescent doing everything he could to make himself something remarkable among his family members.

These are not the sort of things that Mobei-Jun says. He knows how to read between the lines of what he says. These are attempts to thank him, praise him. This is not the sort of thing Mobei-Jun says.

Something is wrong. Based on the experience that Shang Qinghua has been having for the past few days, he would bet all of his staggeringly unfairly low income on this all being due to the influence of Tianlang-Jun.

His king still hasn't answered, hasn't even moved, an unfairly beautiful ice statue under Shang Qinghua's hand.

"Explain." He demands again. Something in it must make it clear that he will not be moved from this point, because Mobei-Jun reaches up to take the letter from his hands. He does not go through the motions of pretending to look over the letter. They both know he wrote it and that he knows what it is.

"Qinghua deserves to know that he is appreciated."

How dare he! Saying that sort of thing out here in the middle of the hallway where anyone in the entire court could hear him. Shang Qinghua shoots a terrified glance down both ends of the hallway. There are multiple demonic servants making their way through the hallway for various reasons. At least two of them are running errands specifically assigned by Shang Qinghua, because he is relentlessly causing his own downfall at every moment of every situation.

"What are you doing? Out here in front of everyone! Let me into your room and we can talk about this quieter." This happens sometimes, when Shang Qinghua gets anxious enough, where he'll just start ordering everyone around until things are exactly the way that he wants them to be. He usually doesn't even notice the tone or words that he used until after he finished speaking. Then, afterward, he sits in horror as his mind plays back everything that he just said. Sometimes he has to go and retrace all his steps until he can do damage control for all the delicate politics he disrupted.

When Mobei-Jun was younger, he would become offended as soon as he would dare to presume to give him an order. Sometimes it would result in Shang Qinghua smacked clear across the hallway. More recently, especially in the past year or so, it has more resulted in unnerving cooperation and compliance from Mobei-Jun, who will follow wherever he is led and do what he is told with a peaceful, half-smile on his face.

This is another one of those times. Shang Qinghua grabs ahold of him and tugs him into the room. Instead of resisting or pushing back in any way, Mobei-Jun follows easily at the slightest pressure. It's bad, it's dangerous, because it means that Shang Qinghua is inside the room faster than he was prepared to be. He's standing in the firelight, watching it play across the planes of his king, relishing in the strange comfort of the warmth in this room. It's before he had a chance to brace himself.

He can feel his mouth going dry. Resists the urge to lick his lips like the pervert he is but tries to pretend not to be. Ends up licking his lips anyway because he can't stop imagining what it would be like to lick Mobei-Jun's washboard abs that are on display through the very loosely tied single robe that he is wearing.

"My King," he orders, because he needs to distract himself now before things get even more off track. "What are you saying here? What is happening? Is Tianlang-Jun blackmailing you? As your primary advisor and the person who runs almost all of your kingdom, you need to tell me if you're being blackmailed into doing things you don't want to do."

Mobei-Jun is staring down at him with those same softened eyes but a slight furrow to his kingly brow, now.

"Is Qinghua being blackmailed?"

"What? No, not anymore. That's not the point. I was asking if someone is blackmailing you!"

"What would make Qinghua think this King has been blackmailed?"

"What do you mean?" Shang Qinghua slaps the paper against Mobei-Jun's chest again. "This letter is why I think you're being blackmailed. My King, this is completely out of character. How else was I supposed to take this other than as a cry for help?"

"This letter is out of character." His voice is flat as the frozen tundra outside, in the way that it tends to get when he is asking a question but would rather demand someone provide further context than admit that he might not understand something. Sometimes, Shang Qinghua starts to think too closely about what it means about him that this is his dream man. He doesn't let himself think about that for too long.

"Um? Yes? If you do not remember, My King, it was just a few years ago that you were hitting me around whenever you felt like it. A letter full of compliments to me is something that you have never done, not once, in the decades that I have known you." The furrow of Mobei-Jun's brow carves itself deeper and deeper with every word that Shang Qinghua says, and it's kind of sending him into a fucking panic, because he's clearly pissing off this powerful demon in front of him, and he doesn't even know what about this situation is pissing him off, so he doesn't have anything he can pull off the Overarching To Do List, or even add to it, that would help to fix it.

"Qinghua sees this as a change in character."

They're standing there in the middle of his king's cavernous and beautiful room, staring at each other like idiots, saying the same thing back and forth to each other over and over. Shang Qinghua wants to hit his head against the wall. He wants to grab his King's thighs and hide his face in the strong muscles there and also use it as an excuse to never look him in the eye again.

"It's a pretty big change from how you have literally ever acted before, yeah. I think I've already said that." Mobei-Jun is just looking grumpier and grumpier and Shang Qinghua is about to lose his mind.

"Qinghua is appreciated. This comment being a departure from normal behavior is a failure of this king." Mobei-Jun even fucking reaches out with his hands to grasp tightly to Shang Qinghua's upper arms as he says this. He could probably pull away and escape if he tried to, Mobei-Jun would let him. It's more like he wants to make sure that he has Shang Qinghua's full attention before he says this. Shang Qinghua would have really appreciated more warning and also for his full attention to never be demanded because this is the literal worst case scenario of all time ever.

"Ah," he says, like an idiot. "Right. Yes. Well, in that case, your advisor should go continue to work on the things that made him so appreciated." Shang Qinghua can feel himself squirming to pull away from Mobei-Jun's grip. He lets go, just like he knew he would, but his expression is tilting more and more from frustrated to bereft, if you're someone who just happens to have known him since he was very young and are therefore able to read the micro-expressions he uses in his everyday life. "So enjoyed this talk. Please stop saying such things out in the main hallway, since it really will open you up for someone to come along and blackmail you." A step back toward the door. "If they haven't already started doing that." Shang Qinghua makes it all the way to the door unimpeded. Mobei-Jun is still just standing there. "Which I really think they have and you should definitely tell your main advisor about it."

With that last statement, he edges his way out the door and slams it shut behind him. That was strange, strange, strange. He never wants to do that again. He had to leave that room or he never would. He finally has his Overarching To Do List back, and that's really where he should be spending his time right now. He's fallen behind, surely, after a whole day without it.

He skitters down the hallway, clinging to the shadows even though he has more right than almost every demon here to be in this palace.

He slams the door to his office closed behind him, blocking out that whole interaction.

*~*~*

"You will help me." Mobei-Jun slams an empty sheet of parchment onto the table before Tianlang-Jun.

"Oh, will I?" He drawls. Mobei-Jun hates him. "And what will I be helping the peerless Mobei-Jun with?"

"Letters." The words are gritted out through Mobei-Jun's teeth. He is not the sort of man who asks for help.

"I'm sorry, I didn't quite hear that, darling." Tianlang-Jun sprawls out further, clearly relishing this concession to his abilities. "Maybe it's the way that you were mumbling. I'm afraid you'll have to say that again."

Mobei-Jun begins to walk away. He has to clench his teeth, physically restrain himself, drag himself back. This is for Qinghua. Things have been better, ever since Tianlang-Jun started interfering and advising. It's been awful, but it's also been effective. More progress this week than the last few decades together.

Or, well, not really, is it? He has made progress on his own. When they met, Qinghua was nothing more than a trembling, terrified servant who would say whatever he thought it would take to make it through the next day alive. It was manipulative and brilliant, looking back, all the ways that he managed to wriggle his way into the important places of Mobei-Jun's life in a way that would make it all fall to pieces at his removal. The sort of thing that has made him invaluable as a member of Mobei-Jun's court.

Mobei-Jun had spent too many years treating him like the pathetic mess that he pretended he was. By the time he realized that Shang Qinghua was one of the only places in the world where he felt safe and calm, where he was secure enough to arrive at any time and fall asleep without a care in the world, they had already established patterns.

It's been years of Mobei-Jun picking through all their habits and patterns so he can find the things he does that push Qinghua into behaving like that old, terrified version of himself, instead of the terrified version of himself that he tends to just default into at all times of the day.

He did do that work. He did make that progress. Qinghua no longer flinches every time he moves too quickly or expresses displeasure. Qinghua allows him to cook for him almost every day. Qinghua knows to call on him when he needs help. Those are things that he built without the help of Tianlang-Jun. It had been enough to get them to this place. They eat together at times. They talk. They spend time together in the same places.

But, ever since that realization of safety, Mobei-Jun has been working toward something more. He desires Qinghua the way that a demon desires a spouse. He could live like this, but he would like to move forward. He had resigned himself to the impossibility of it.

Then Tianlang-Jun arrived.

Now, he has Qinghua in his rooms at night. He stands closer than he ever does, stares back when Mobei-Jun is staring at him.

He made progress before. He has made more progress with the influence of Tianlang-Jun. And so, he will ask for help. If this is what it will take, is it really all that bad?

"I need your help with writing a letter to Qinghua." He manages to say the words because this is what it will take for him to finally be allowed near Qinghua in that way. That is why he is doing all of this. With that perspective, it isn't even that awful, saying it all out loud.

"Well why didn't you say so right at the beginning?" Tianlang-Jun laughs, "Because I've known you've needed my help from the very first one that you sent."

Grit teeth. Breathe. This is for Qinghua.

He had not written out multiple drafts of any of his letters. They were the sort of things that he wrote as quickly as possible because he would stop himself if he thought about it for too long. Tianlang-Jun is right that Qinghua is a man of words. Mobei-Jun is most decidedly not that. He has never enjoyed expressing his thoughts and feelings aloud. Even the brief moments of writing these letters have been excruciating.

Excruciating enough that he remembers everything he wrote. He did not make multiple drafts, but he is able to replicate the letters easily, and sets the contents before Tianlang-Jun now. It might not matter. This might just be a technique to humiliate him. From all accounts, it would seem the Heavenly Demon is already reading everything he sends to Qinghua. Still, he write them out. In case Tianlang-Jun missed one.

It does not take Tianlang-Jun long to read through all that he has written. "I must say, I'm impressed. You give the appearance of being so stoic and stubborn, but this little Mobei-Jun is capable of learning." Tianlang-Jun holds up the most recent letter. "Look at this! A true effort to praise him for his hard work and to compliment his appearance! It's all still short and terribly phrased, of course, but you must have had a worthy teacher at some point, to make you this willing to listen."

The teacher was Qinghua. While he was almost the same age as Mobei-Jun, he had always seemed to hold the wisdom of many years beyond that, when he would advise Mobei-Jun on this or that. His mind for strategy. His ability to step into a room and gain a handle on the complicated interpersonal dynamics between every other person there. Mobei-Jun has only managed to make it this far into his rule because he learned early on to listen to whatever Qinghua tells him to do, and to comply. The fact that this also often causes Qinghua to smile at him, sometimes even praise him, only adds to the benefits.

"And how did your trembling little human respond, when you sent such a letter to him?"

Mobei-Jun refuses to be embarrassed by this part. He is the king of his lands, of the Northern Desert, second-in-command to the emperor of the demon realm. He does not feel embarrassment in front of anyone. Well, he occasionally feels it in front of Qinghua, but that is a separate situation, where his titles and accolades mean nothing at all.

"He believes that I am being blackmailed."

"Ha! Okay, yeah, I can see where he would get an idea like that." Tianlang-Jun reads through some of the letters again. "'The meal you prepared for me was appreciated.' You do sound a little bit like you're being held at sword point."

"If you will not offer help, I will take my things and depart."  Mobei-Jun is aware that he has signed up to stand her and be mocked. He is only allowing this because he believes there may be some helpful information, hidden within the rest of it.

"Of course, of course. So, your little human thinks you're being forced into saying these sorts of things. That doesn't bode well for you, kid. Have you ever said anything kind to him? In the whole time you've known him?" His voice is a combination of mocking and incredulous. Mobei-Jun returns to the now well-worn fantasy of ripping out his throat.

"I have." Certainly he must have. They've known each other for years.

"Name one time," Tianlang-Jun says, with all the smug challenge of someone who already knows that he won't be able to. It makes Mobei-Jun all the more furious to realize that he can't think of a single time.

"I have shown my regard for Qinghua in my actions." This is true. Mobei-Jun is not the sort of person to treat the person he cares for with little regard. He will never be that person. His regard simply takes the form of protection, coming when called, following instructions, listening to Qinghua when he talks, obeying when he asks for things to be different.

"See, this is exactly what I was talking about." Tianlang-Jun rifles through the letters again, probably for dramatic effect rather than any actual need to reread them. There are not so many words there that he would not already be aware of the content. Mobei-Jun wants to rip them from his hands, cast them through a shadow portal until his inadequacies are far from anyone's sight. "It's not just that your human is a man of words. Humans are people who enjoy words. It's a whole thing." He waves a hand lazily through the air, as if this should all be foregone knowledge. "They want to hear you tell them the things you like about them, that you appreciate them, that you think they're beautiful, that you care for them and want them. If you don't say these things aloud, humans don't understand them."

Mobei-Jun isn't sure that's true. There is only one other human he has some level of familiarity with, and Luo Binghe's Shen Qingqiu doesn't seem to share that trait at all. From what Mobei-Jun has witnessed, he would put any demon to shame for his tendency to speak with actions over words.

On the topic of Luo Binghe, though, that is a man who requires those kinds of words and affirmations. He may be part demon, but he's also part human, and he was raised by human. Does that mean that his tendencies should be taken as the model for all?

None of this matters. Tianlang-Jun is not some wise sage who knows the answers to the human race. In fact, Mobei-Jun can't recall any stories of him having interacted with humans much beyond the one that ended him in so much trouble. None of his words should be taken as truth. Instead, he should merely acknowledge that, whether or not Tianlang-Jun understands people, he does seem to understand Qinghua. And, once he is able to focus past the way that this fact rankles against his pride, Mobei-Jun needs to use it.

"I used words. You say that they are the wrong ones. Qinghua thought they were said against my will. This is the matter in which I am requesting your wisdom." He needs to get them back to the useful part of all of this. He doesn't have time to deal with any of the nonsense that Tianlang-Jun loves to hear himself spew.

"Of course he accused you of being blackmailed. Just look at the few letters you gave me. Listen to the words you say to him. You can't remember a single time you said a kind word to him. It won't matter which compliments you try to pick at the beginning. He won't believe any of them!" Mobei-Jun can feel the foreboding snarl creeping into his expression. There is ice crackling and crawling up the walls in the corners of the room. Tianlang-Jun pauses for a moment to look pointedly at the ice and then back at Mobei-Jun with a raised eyebrow. When Mobei-Jun refuses to acknowledge any of what he may be trying to communicate, Tianlang-Jun continues.

"It's like this. Think of what would happen, if there were another demon who had ignored you or undermined your authority for the past ten years. And then, suddenly, one day they bring a freshly killed corpse of a legendary beast to your feet, the clearest declaration of serious intent that someone could give. This same demon that has been an active threat to your standing and the stability of your position for the past decade. What would you do, with such a declaration?"

Mobei-Jun knows that this is a story meant to illuminate his own situation. Even so, Tianlang-Jun is looking at him expectantly, and he clearly wants an answer. Mobei-Jun will answer. Only because his mind is not made for these kind of metaphors and double-meanings and he will not understand until it is spelled out for him.

"I would think the trophy to be some kind of trick or poison. Perhaps an attempt to remove me from my current position."

"Exactly. And what if it was proven that it was none of those things? That this demon had suddenly and drastically changed their behavior from the past years? Would you think that some exterior force might be influencing or controlling them? That there may be some kind of blackmail involved?"

Mobei-Jun can feel the beginnings of understanding brewing in his mind. Still, it is clear that this is something Tianglang-Jun wants to follow to the end.

"The option would cross my mind."

"And what would this demon need to do, then, to convince you that this was a genuine declaration of intent? One they pursued of their own free will and interest?"

"I would not accept their declaration. I have no need for another consort."

"Right," Tianlang-Jun drawls mockingly. "But let's say that, hypothetically, you were going to let them convince you they were genuine. What would a demon like that need to do?"

It is hard, for Mobei-Jun to imagine things like this. He does not want to consider the courtship actions of anyone other than Qinghua. He does not bother himself with hypotheticals or the motivations of others. That is what Qinghua manages. Mobei-Jun learned long ago that Qinghua is simply better at it than he will ever be, and at this point is quite happy to simply go where he is led.

He tries now. To imagine what it would be like, if someone who had been a threat to him started to suddenly behave in a blatantly romantic manner. What would have to change for him to believe it was their genuine intention?

It's impossible. He would send the demon away at the first indication of such a thing. He has made his efforts to court Qinghua clear to the entire court. Anyone who would dare to do something as disrespectful as interrupt an active courting with one of their own would be banished from the court before they could make anything close to a point. If he didn't kill them where they stood, for the slight against Qinghua's honor. Interrupting an ongoing courtship would be tantamount to saying that Qinghua did not deserve the king's full attention. This entire premise is impossible to think of.

Qinghua, then. Perhaps it will be easier to imagine this way. He had cooked a meal for Mobei-Jun the night before. This represents a shocking change in behavior patterns from the past few years. Mobei-Jun is tempted to take it at face value but, thanks to his more recent comments, it is more likely that this was the result of some kind of blackmailing or exterior influence.

What would it take for Mobei-Jun to start to believe that Qinghua was doing this of his own free will? He would need to continue doing so, even after Tianlang-Jun is shown to not be influencing his actions. He would want to see him do so with the kind of shaking panic that comes from his moments of vulnerability, rather than the kind of shaking panic that arises when he is being forced into doing something and he's angry about it.

"It would need to happen more than once, and appear genuine."

"Exactly! Good boy!" Tianlang-Jun praises, as if any approval other than Qinghua's has ever mattered to Mobei-Jun. "So, since you clearly need your hand held to get there, that's what your human needs as well. For years, I would bet you've only been trying to court him in a demonic fashion. I bet you've even challenged the poor coward to spar. For humans, they don't court like that. It's just threatening. So you've been threatening him for years, and then you suddenly start sending him letters declaring your admiration of him. Of course he's going to be suspicious."

"You are suggesting that I simply need to speak genuinely and remain constant."

"I never thought you'd get there. Are you proud of yourself?" Tianlang-Jun has kicked his feet up on the desk before him, lounging like a king surveying his conquered lands.

Mobei-Jun does not wait around for him to continue to inflate his own ego. He turns and walks from the room, even as he hears Tianlang-Jun talking cheerfully to himself.

"Why, thank you, great Tianlang-Jun. Your incredible wisdom regarding the humans is everything I need to finally pursue the man of my heart. Where would I be-"

Mobei-Jun moves outside of hearing range long before he is finished with whatever useless drivel he has to offer. He has another letter to write.

*~*~*

It has been almost a full day since Tianlang-Jun had last sought Shang Qinghua out, and instead of relaxing, it's just winding Shang Qinghua up tighter and tighter. He's jumping at every footstep and watching around every corner. He has The Overarching To Do List to manage, as well as his daily to do list that he's drawn from it, but he left so much space in his daily timetable for the flexibility he'll need for the unpredictable spontaneity of Tianlang-Jun's. Now, it's only early evening and he's almost to the end of his daily list, which means there's still about eight hours of time left to get work done, and nothing he planned to fill it with, which is also only contributing to the sense of panic.

Shang Qinghua has always been an anxious person. When he was living his first life, it mostly showed up in his being quiet and allowing himself to fade into the background, hiding away from the world. His family had all clearly moved on to others, and he had more than enough to keep him home, with all the writing he had to do. Better to avoid anything outside his front door. He was still anxious, but it was less of the shaking-trembling-begging for his life kind, because he never put himself in any kind of situation that would bring any of that out.

It's strange, to have lived solidly into adulthood and then have your spirit and mind transferred into that of a young child. When he first got here, his body wasn't even a year old! He hadn't ever thought about just how much babies can't do! He couldn't focus his eyes, couldn't walk, couldn't even hear a lot of the things people were saying. He just had to lay there for days on end and wait for the people in his life to look after the body he was in.

His tongue wasn't clever enough to know how to form the words to go with his thoughts. Even if it had been, Shang Qinghua knew better! As the creator of this world and an incredible purveyor of angst, he knew exactly what happened to people who stood out as strange or different. The kind of rejection they faced. It's good for building tragic backstories! Not as good when you're a baby transmigrator.

He did know for sure that he was in the world of PIDW. That he was a transmigrator. But that was only from the System in his head cheerfully telling him so. For the first decade of his life in this world, Shang Qinghua had to pretend to be just a normal child, and the only entity he could speak to regularly was his own tormentor and captor.

It would have made for a really incredible character arc. Even just thinking about it, there are so many narrative themes in there that are ripe for the picking. If it were happening to a fictional character, he could have done something amazing with the story. Since it was happening to him instead, and he actually had to live through those years and years before he could speak to anyone else with the level of cognitive functioning happening inside his head, it was the worst thing ever. He used to spend hours and hours at a time going over every single detail he could remember from his book, because it was suddenly a lot more relevant to his life and he had to hold onto it until it all actually started to happen. Which wouldn't be the case for several more decades. He had to settle into the long haul of remembering things. Also, it gave him something to do inside his mind, so that he didn't lose his mind while pretending to be a young toddler.

It lead to a different kind of panic, too. Oh, how much he missed those old days in the modern world, when he could simply lock himself inside his house and avoid any confrontations or encounters with the things that made him panic in the first place. In this world, in PIDW, he really hit his stride in the trembling, panicked babbling and shaking that he knows has become something of a signature by now. You try being in his shoes! He had to live every day of his childhood afraid that he would be kicked out onto the street for giving himself away before he was old enough to actually take care of himself!

And then! He had to go join his sect, because the System liked to pop up and hold his own death over his head like the sword of Damocles (another metaphor he can't say out loud because no one in this world knows what that is).

In the sect, he had to become head disciple and then sect leader. More pressure from the System. But don't get attached to anyone! Because he was going to have to betray the sect in just a few more years, and that was going to kill a whole hell of a lot of his sect siblings, and he couldn't let any attachments get to the point where that would be even more painful than it already was.

Work for the king of the northern desert. He's going to kill you in a few years. He can come into your room whenever he wants. Be a double-agent. Don't get caught by anyone in the human realm. Win over a bunch of demons that have a lot of very good reasons to never want to listen to a human speak. Use your knowledge of PIDW to figure out what you need to do next. Don't give away your status as a cultivator or you'll be killed right away.

Is it any wonder that he got such a terrible reputation? Anyone else in his situation would too! Is it any wonder that he started to develop a habit of running over the details of this world over and over in his head whenever he needed to calm down, since it wasn't safe to have it written down anywhere?

He didn't bother to spend much time remembering Tianlang-Jun, since he hadn't been part of the final draft. Just the outline. He didn't think it would be necessary, and he needed to leave space in his head for all the other details that were going to be important to staying alive.

Yeah, he knows it was a mistake. No one needs to tell him that now. He would really like anyone with strong opinions on this to think about what it would be like for them to be stuck as a baby again and have to remember every little detail about a story they wrote, mostly in a caffeine-fueled fugue state. And then keep all of that in mind for the next several decades.

The point is: Tianlang-Jun fell off his radar. This wasn't a problem at all until all of a sudden it very much was. He had thought he would just sleep away Shang Qinghua's lifetime under a mountain! That's what he had ended up doing in PIDW, and it only changed once Cucumber-Bro came in and fucked up all the narrative tension.

So, really, it's all Cucumber-Bro's fault, and it's important to Shang Qinghua that everyone else knows that too.

Assigning blame doesn't actually help with the problem at hand, though. The problem, which is that he still hasn't heard from Tianlang-Jun all day. That's not a good fucking sign. It's not that he left the court! Shang Qinghua saw him sitting up there right next to Mobei-Jun during dinner tonight. They were talking with their heads bent together for the whole meal. Well, okay, it was really more that Tianlang-Jun was lounging into Mobei-Jun's space and rambling on and on. But! Mobei-Jun wasn't ignoring him! Sometimes he would make vague comments or noises! That's basically him showing rapt attention! Shang Qinghua would like to be informed about shifting alliances and relationships between VIPs in this court, please and thank you! Where is the very good boy that he trained up to be a ruler and tell him these sorts of things?

A servant walks into Shang Qinghua's office and hands him some of the mail that has arrived in the evening. Usually, Shang Qinghua is not in his office when this happens, because he is off doing the many other things on his to do list for the day. This is another terrible disruption in plans! Now he has to look the demon in charge of mail for the palace in the eye, even though he's been explicitly avoiding doing that due to all the extra work he makes for her every single day!

He thanks her. She is very polite back. More than most demons in this palace are to their resident human. Shang Qinghua feels even worse than he did at the start of this.

The letters are easy to sort. There's not even that many of them today. Just a few details to shift around on his map of important people. A few colored dots to add to his color coding system. A few things to shift around on The Overarching To Do List.

He could pull a few more things off the Overarching To Do List and add them to what he needs to do today. That feels like inviting disaster. As soon as he lets himself be confident that Tianlang-Jun is not going to disrupt his day, that's when the Heavenly Demon will strike. This is the way that Shang Qinghua's luck works. He's only halfway convinced that it's due to the System trying to create moments of narrative irony.

There are a few pieces of personal correspondence, there at the bottom of the stack. One from Cucumber-Bro, mostly including a rant about the newest updates to Resentment of Chunshan, written in the Chinglish shorthand they use, as if he's ashamed to let anyone see him have strong feelings about literally anything in the world at all.

There's also, part of a new pattern, a letter that is clearly from his king. Shang Qinghua braces himself for whatever could possibly be inside. There's no way to predict, after the rollercoaster of the past few. Is it going to tell him to kick Tianlang-Jun out of the castle? Is it going to tell him that he has pretty eyes?

Qinghua, it reads, rather than allow him to continue down his newest anxiety spiral.

I want to make hand-pulled noodles for you every day that you want them. If you decide you do not want noodles, then I want to know what else you like and learn to make that too.

Your King

Huh.

It's.

Huh.

It's somewhat like the one from the night before. It's more words than his king almost ever strings together.

It's also-, huh. It's hard to explain what's so different about this one from the other ones. It feels more...believable? Like it really was his king who wrote it. The words are phrased the way that he would say them, if he were to say something so incredibly out of character.

The words are also incredibly...something. Soft? Vulnerable, maybe? He would almost describe them as romantic, if this were the sort of thing he had written in a novel for a super reserved character to say. Mobei-Jun, implying that he might want to continue cooking for Shang Qinghua. That he enjoys serving him in that way. That he wants to keep working to make him happy. That would be a romantic thing to say, if he were looking in from the outside.

And then, well, Your King. Huh. That's fucking. Huh. Shang Qinghua has been calling Mobei-Jun My King since long before he was king of anything. Part of that was just a matter of practicality. The Mobei family does not name their children. They have to fight for rankings and then they get the honor of being addressed by their title. It's just another part of what makes the competition for the throne so harsh and terrible. It's a great little character development detail for a book character. A terrible thing to do to an actual teenager who has no connections or support in the world.

When they had met, there was very little else to call Mobei-Jun. He had no name, and Shang Qinghua needed something to call him so that he could better beg for his life. My King had been what he called him, sometimes, when he was thinking about him while writing PIDW. Like, his favorite character. His king. You know. It's not weird. It's writer stuff. He did way weirder shit than that. He's a successful writer. Shut up.

When he had first actually called the teenaged Mobei-Jun that, it had clearly done wonders for his case not to kill him. Mobei-Jun was already going for the throne at that point, and no one in his family or the demon realm believed he would be successful. It had made him puff up a little, with pride, every time Shang Qinghua said it.

And then, well, then several decades passed, and they kept right on knowing each other. And, slowly, the title shifted from just a substitution for a title to something more affectionate. Something closer to a name. Maybe even a nickname. Shang Qinghua would never say that it's sometimes even like a pet name, because he doesn't want to die, but it does feel like that. He says it like that, sometimes. Just for something that he can hold in his own heart. A secret between him and himself.

All this to say: Shang Qinghua has been calling Mobei-Jun My King for as long as he's known him. In all of that time, Mobei-Jun has never referred to himself as Your King.

It's different. It's a different kind of possession. A king owns all of his subjects. Any of his subjects could call him my king. A king doesn't belong to any individual subject, though. It's a one-way possession.

Shang Qinghua can't stop staring at that signature. Your King. As if the power between them isn't the heinous level of unbalanced that it very much is. He knows that it is. It always has been.

Your King.

He's never called himself that. He would never have a reason to.

It should sound like something forced again. It should have Shang Qinghua hunting him down and accusing him of being blackmailed again. Clearly, there should be no other explanation for this.

But someone else, someone coming in and forcing him to write these words, they wouldn't know to have him say that. They wouldn't know why that would be so significant. If this were Tianlang-Jun telling him to say these things, he was stuck under the mountain the entire time My King was developing into something significant between the two of them. These days, it can fly under the radar as a perfectly normal and respectful form of address.

Someone looking in would never know all that it means to them. There would be no reason for anyone other than Mobei-Jun to even think to write something like that. Which means, impossibly, that it was Mobei-Jun who chose each of these words. Who said these things.

Shang Qinghua has to do something about this. He wants to go and confront him again, but it would probably just lead to a similar embarrassing showing as the night before. Sputtering and struggling for words while his king stares down at him with vague bemusement. It's always good and terrifying and heart-stopping to see him, but he doesn't know what he would say. Hold the letter up in his line of sight and demand that he explain himself again? There's nothing to explain. It's an incredibly straightforward letter. He wants to demand that Mobei-Jun sit down with him for several hours and unpack every single potential hidden meaning and subtext and ulterior motive with him. 

But his king is not the type of man to think like that. Mobei-Jun, impossibly, simply says the things he is thinking and feeling and puts no more thought into it than that. Even more impossibly, often he doesn't say anything at all.

Usually, it's a safer bet to just watch the things that he does rather than the words that he is saying. That's how Shang Qinghua manages to keep close enough tabs on his opinions of other members of the court to write his speeches and give him his to do lists. Mobei-Jun is a very good listener until the moment he doesn't want to do what you told him to do, and then there's no moving him.

He says what he means, when he speaks at all. He speaks with actions over words. Going to pursue a further explanation would reveal nothing, because there was likely no further thought to the letter than what is before him. Should Shang Qinghua try something like that, too? Using his actions over his words?

Shang Qinghua does not work like that.

But Mobei-Jun works like that. What could Shang Qinghua do, then, to show him that this, whatever the fuck it is, was appreciated? How can he use a kind action to also work to gain some kind of clarity about what could possibly be going on here?

He cooked for Mobei-Jun, the other night. It seems like Mobei-Jun likes that, when they cook for each other. He said in the more forced-sounding letter, the night before, that he had appreciated the meal.

Shang Qinghua knows that some people in the court might look at all of this and get the wrong idea. It's a demon tradition, you know. One of the ways someone can declare intent for someone else. Cooking a meal for them. Some people look at Shang Qinghua and Mobei-Jun and assume it must be like that, between them. Really, it's just something that started after Shang Qinghua almost ran away that one time, and then continued because his king seemed to gain some kind of satisfaction from it.

They've been just friends up until now. Not even really friends, actually. Shang Qinghua would never say something like that out loud. More like...partners? Partners in crime, maybe? They've known each other for so long. They've worked together for so long. They understand each other.

It hasn't been anything more than that, between them. But this letter, it's blurring the lines. A lot. Shang Qinghua is really having to work hard to think of any kind of platonic or, he doesn't know, some kind of cosmically-connected coworkers situation explanation for any of this.

He wants to make noodles for Shang Qinghua for the rest of his life. If he stops wanting noodles, he wants to learn how to make the things he does want. What is Shang Qinghua supposed to do with that? The longer he thinks about that part, the more it's sticking in his brain too. The Your King snagged in his mind first, because what the fuck, but actually, he would like to know what the fuck is happening with literally every part of this letter, because it's going to do his head in.

When was the last time someone cooked for him? Before Mobei-Jun? He'd eaten at the dining hall when he was spending more of his time on An Ding Peak, but that wasn't a personalized meal. That was just the same meal that disciples took turns making for the whole peak. There wasn't any heart behind it.

It would have been when he was a child in this world, but even that had been such a strange and distant time. Being doted upon by parents, parents he was mentally older than, parents he could never speak openly to. There was a strained distance there. He knows it confused them, the whole time they were alive. Their strange, distant child who never behaved quite the way they expected him to. Their child, who knew, the whole time he was growing up, exactly when and how his parents were going to die. He did everything he could to make their lives easier. There is nothing he could have done differently.

Before that. In his first life. Instant noodles and energy drinks and bao from the convenience store down the street, when he thought he would shrivel up and die if he didn't actually leave his studio apartment. Scrounged together meals before that, when both of his parents had already split, were off trying to build families that would work this time, leaving him alone to cook for himself before he ever learned how.

When was the last time someone made a meal for him? For Shang Qinghua, in all that he was?

Has someone ever done that?

Fuck. It's some fucking dark shit tonight. This is why he stays busy with lists. No one wants to live in thoughts like this.

But fine. Fuck. If this is what it's like between them, then does it really matter if there is or isn't some hidden meaning underneath it? Does it matter if he means it as friends or coworkers (or lovers)? The idea of something more glows within him with a brightness Shang Qinghua can't look at head-on. He has never learned how to exist around the reality of something like this.

Because, the horrible truth is, all of this with Mobei-Jun is so much more than he has ever had in either life.

And so, really, it doesn't matter.

It doesn't matter what he means by the letter. They'll figure that out. Eventually. And any explanation will be more than he's ever had before.

Right now, though, he has to do something. Do something that might make Mobei-Jun feel one hundredth of the overwhelming glut of emotion that Shang Qinghua is feeling right now.

*~*~*

Mobei-Jun opens the door to his room. It's late, later than he ever even thinks to stay up. He was already awake, though, and a fire is burning huge in the fireplace. Just in case. Just in case he comes back again. Mobei-Jun wants him to be comfortable here.

Qinghua only needed to knock once. Mobei-Jun knows what it sounds like when he does. He has a frenzied, anxious, light way of rapping his knuckles against the door. Sometimes, when he spends days away at his cultivation sect, Mobei-Jun imagines it and goes to answer the door to no one.

Qinghua is here, now. It's what Mobei-Jun was expecting to see, so it takes another few moments for him to realize what else he is seeing.

Qinghua is holding a dish piled high with noodles and sauce and vegetables. Zha jiang mian. The same dish he made for Mobei-Jun just the other night, to eat in front of everyone in the court.

"Ah, My King," he stutters. There is a bright flush on his cheeks. Mobei-Jun wants to scratch them open and lick up the blood. He doesn't.

"Qinghua."

"Yes! Ha ha, it's me. Yep. I noticed earlier tonight that you didn't eat very much at dinner, and I thought that might be because you didn't really like what they were serving for dinner, since it was a lot of northern game and you tend not to eat much of that when they have it, not that you eat much of anything else anyway." He's speaking at a rapidly increasing pace, seeming to become more panicked the longer that Mobei-Jun does not speak. "And, well, I thought about the other night, and how you did end up eating all of the thing I made you, so I thought that you might still be hungry and there's nothing I have to do tonight anyway, so I thought that I could cook for you and maybe that would be better than going hungry all night but if that's not the case then I can just go and leave you to do whatever important things you need to be doing right now."

Mobei-Jun does not bother to acknowledge that last part. Ridiculous. He would be sleeping if Qinghua were not here right now. He much prefers this.

He also does not speak because his tongue is frozen to the top of his mouth.

When Qinghua cooked for him, before, it was very blatantly due to some kind of pressure or blackmail from Tianlang-Jun. Mobei-Jun was still happy to accept it, because it happened in front of the entire court, and so even if Qinghua didn't mean what he was saying, at least the rest of the court would get the message to stay away from the two of them.

This, though. Shang Qinghua generally tells Mobei-Jun the truth, especially when his mouth runs away with him like this. He will still withhold things, of course, but the words that he says are truthful.

He said that he noticed that Mobei-Jun did not eat at dinner. That Mobei-Jun prefers food when it is prepared by Qinghua. He thought Mobei-Jun might be hungry, and so he cooked for him.

Mobei-Jun is going to tear out his heart and hand it to Shang Qinghua. That feels like the only action that would appropriately convey what he's been trying to say. An appropriate reaction to something like this. Qinghua cooked for him. Because he wanted to and he thought Mobei-Jun would enjoy it.

Mobei-Jun gestures him deeper into the room. Gestures him toward the chairs near the fire, again. He's replaced the pelt that was there before with that of a Great Mountain Burrow Timber Wolf, with thicker, warmer fur that wraps around your feet when you step on it. There's a quilt as well, commissioned to be made of the heaviest, finest fabrics. It's draped over the chair that Shang Qinghua sat in last time and has spent the last few hours warming before the fire.

When Shang Qinghua sits down, he does this little shiver, nestles down into the warmth of the fire and blanket and rug. Something possessive and satisfied floods Mobei-Jun. Good. Qinghua is comfortable in his space. It's worth the slightly-dizzying heat that makes a blue flush come to his own cheeks.

Mobei-Jun is holding the food now. He's not quite sure when that happened. He must have taken it when Qinghua came through the doorway. Now, he goes to sit in the chair across from Qinghua. They are tilted toward each other, just like he imagined they might be when he rearranged the room. He starts taking small bites, savoring the rudimentary texture and flavor of the dish.

He does not eat human cuisine often. When he does, it is prepared by the finest chefs in the land. This food is not nearly of the same quality, and that makes it taste all the better. Qinghua is not an experienced chef. He does not know how to cook many things. And yet, this is the second meal that he has prepared for Mobei-Jun to eat. It shows a significant departure from his usual patterns and habits. This was something intentional. Something purposeful.

It should feel uncomfortable to sit and eat while the other person has nothing to consume. If Mobei-Jun were willing to share a single bite of the treasured thing that Qinghua made for him, he might. For them, though, this is not much of a departure from the norm. Mobei-Jun rarely speaks while Qinghua rambles on and on, and so having a mouth full of food will not make much of a difference at all.

He's not speaking right now, instead sitting pressed back into the quilt on his chair and staring nervously at Mobei-Jun while he takes his first bites. Mobei-Jun tries to look pleased, so that Qinghua will know that his gift is appreciated. It's unclear how well that does or does not work.

Sometimes Qinghua gets like this. All tensed up and shaky while they are in the same space. Silent, but as if all the words are building up inside of him because he is not saying them out loud. It makes Mobei-Jun want to bend him over a surface and fuck him until all the panic is gone from his body. Until his words can flow freely and easily again.

He does not do this. Instead, he merely waits. Soon enough, the words will build up too much, and Qinghua will choose to fill the silence, and they will continue in their old patterns.

"Right, ah, My King is probably wondering what I am doing here." Mobei-Jun cannot help the somewhat smug smile that comes to his face at that. Just as he knew would happen. Because he does know this man, better even than Tianlang-Jun, who likes to come in and claim to be such an expert in humankind.

"I know I said earlier that there's nothing to do. But, you know, obviously, there's always something to do, so if My King wants me to leave him alone or let him sleep, just say the word and I can shut up and go away." Mobei-Jun does not say the word. "I've been going through the Overarching To Do List, but I already got through my list for the day, because I keep waiting for Tianlang-Jun to show up and make everything difficult, and I accounted for that in my schedule, but then he didn't even have the decency to show up. It's guys like that who get off on being strange and unpredictable that I can't stand. He doesn't even have a goal or anything, I don't think! He just wants to make people's lives harder and, as soon as he feels like people are starting to catch onto his patterns, he goes and changes them."

"I want him to leave," Mobei-Jun contributes, in between bites of his meal, because it is the truth and it seems like it will make Qinghua happy to hear it.

"Yes!" Qinghua sits upright in his seat, pointing in enthusiasm, happy to have someone agreeing with him. It makes Mobei-Jun want to agree with anything else that Qinghua has to say. He has felt like this many times before. "But, My King, we have to let him stay as long as he wants. A Heavenly Demon like that, we can't afford to make him angry." Mobei-Jun knows this. He also knows that he is regularly tempted to try and kill Tianlang-Jun. He makes a note of the determination in Qinghua's face right now, as something to recall when he is about to lunge at the interloper in his court. "Plus, someone like that thrives on going against the norms and expectations! If you make it obvious just how badly you want him to leave, he'll only stick around longer. It's like a younger sibling who is bothering you."

Mobei-Jun's half-siblings were never so kind as to merely "bother" him, and if he had ignored them, he would be dead. Qinghua, as far as he has been made aware, does not have siblings. They both nod along to this metaphor anyway. Mobei-Jun does not care about what the motivation or reasoning is. He will do this because Qinghua asked him to and because he trusts Qinghua to always know what the best move is for him to make.

They sit like that for several more minutes. Qinghua is talking, mostly about his frustrations with the members of the court, or his intentions for upcoming diplomatic interactions. Mobei-Jun interjects now and then with his vague agreement, as that is all that is required of him to keep his kingdom thriving.

Instead of listening properly, he finds himself distracted. It is rare, that he sees Qinghua in firelight. This is a grave oversight that he will need to correct as soon as possible. There should be lit fireplaces and lanterns throughout this entire castle, so that Qinghua always looks like this.

He is so small, Qinghua is. Mobei-Jun can lift him with one hand. He's done it before, back when he thought that sparring would win him over. Back when they were in danger and he did not trust Qinghua to move himself fast enough. He's squashed himself down into the chair, and the more he speaks and the longer he sits before the fire, the more comfortable he looks. The jittery panic is soothed into calm confidence, the way he only looks when he's so wrapped up in what he's saying that he forgets to be nervous.

Many of the demons in this realm, and almost all of the humans that Mobei-Jun has met, have deep black hair. He understands that many see this as a mark of beauty. And yet, that hair would not glow the way that Qinghua's does in the firelight. Brown now shot through with strands of red and ocher and yellow. His hair is always a little bit unruly and difficult to contain in his bun and now, at the end of the day, there are pieces hanging loose around his face. The firelight is in his eyes too, bringing out notes of gold and honey, pooling deep in the dark brown and settling there like stars in the sky.

He looks happy. He looks comfortable. He looks like the most beautiful thing Mobei-Jun has ever seen.

Mobei-Jun is helpless to do anything but listen as Qinghua talks. As the night grows later, his conversation wanders. Qinghua speaks not just of the tasks he must do and the kingdom they run together, but of his most recent conversations with his human friend, Shen Qingqiu. He speaks of his dreams for the future of their kingdom, and not just politically, but aesthetically, culturally. He paints pictures with his words in the air between them.

It grows later, and when Qinghua starts to become self-conscious about how much he has spoken, Mobei-Jun fetches him tea to soothe his throat.

It grows later, and the fire has crackled its way down to embers between them, and Mobei-Jun is discovering even more ways that shadows can catch and cling to the angles of Qinghua's face.

It grows later, and Mobei-Jun is awake so far past when he normally is, and the night is sparking through him like magic, and he can't believe he gets to have this. He never thought he would have something like this. A place to be calm. A place to be safe. A person who would never run out of new things to tell him.

"Tell me a story," Mobei-Jun murmurs. It is so late in the night that it is now well into morning. The words should come out as a command, but instead they are soft and warm. Qinghua should be panicked and confused and embarrassed at such a request, but instead he smiles like a candle held between two cupped palms.

"Once upon a time." He says the words like he's casting a spell. Like he's telling a joke. "There was an ice prince and his servant."

He speaks for hours. They have never done this. Mobei-Jun does not know how he knew that Qinghua would have a story to tell, but it flows out of him like he does not even need to think to find the next word. He spins a story of an ice prince and his human servant and the brilliant adventures they go on together. He tells how, again and again, they save each other from danger, the ice prince with his fighting prowess and the human with his quick words and unwavering loyalty.

When it's all put together like that, Mobei-Jun can't help but notice the ways that they really are something like a story. From the outside. A cultivator that found a demon and saved his life, even though there was no reason he should have done that. A demon that found safety and comfort and warmth for the first time ever. A human who learned how to live in a realm so far from the one he was born into. A king that learned to trust his advisor with every part of the kingdom and every word from his mouth.

They should be enemies. Or, if not enemies, then certainly not this. They should never have a reason to speak like this. There should be some terrible distance between them that Shang Qinghua would never dare to cross and Mobei-Jun would never even think to challenge.

They shouldn't have this. They do, and it is the warmest thing that Mobei-Jun has ever known.

He brews more tea, brings a steaming cup to Qinghua when his throat goes scratchy and hoarse from all the speaking. Qinghua tries to wrap up the story a few different times, but Mobei-Jun can see the way that he's still bursting with more to add, more words to say, and all it takes is a single follow-up question or inquiring hum and he'll continue on with another chapter of this fantastical story.

It's a silly thing. A child's pastime. There is something warm and intimate in doing it anyway, in allowing himself to truly enjoy it.

They sit before the fire and Mobei-Jun is being cooked from the inside out, with how warm his room is. There is a deep flush to his cheeks and the frost that always lines the edges of his hair has melted, leaving something like sweat clinging to his temples.

It goes on and on, stories spinning out into the darkness, and Mobei-Jun will always listen to every word that Qinghua has to say, even the ridiculous ones, especially the ridiculous ones, because he wants to understand him better than anyone in the world has ever understood another person before. Is that too much to ask?

The moon makes its way across the sky and Qinghua never stops talking but his sentences start to trail off into fuzzy, half-finished thoughts. He keeps being interrupted by his own yawns.

Qinghua is a cozy, sleepy-eyed thing, his eyes heavy and liquid where they blink out at Mobei-Jun from across the fire. When he yawns, his entire face scrunches up like a small animal's might, and sometimes a small noise, like a squeak, will come out too. It makes Mobei-Jun want to build a terrible tower and lock him up on the highest floor, so that no one in the world would ever be able to see or touch him again. Only Mobei-Jun.

This plan would not work, because Mobei-Jun wouldn't know how to go about commissioning a high tower like that without the help of his closest advisor, and Qinghua is not the type to build something like that without asking endless questions about its purpose, and Mobei-Jun is not a good liar. Particularly not when the person he is lying to has known him for more of his life than not.

When he falls asleep, it is a soft, mumbling thing. Qinghua's sentences trail off into quiet, shapeless syllables and then into snuffling snores. He had curled up into a small ball in the chair an hour ago, and now his head rests against the back of the chair while his arms wrap around his legs.

He is so small.

Mobei-Jun is tired too. It's a miracle that Shang Qinghua fell asleep before him, considering the fact that he is almost universally awake long past the time that his king goes to sleep. It is a unique and treasured opportunity. Mobei-Jun goes to gather another quilt from his own bed, because the fire is burning down and it will likely get cold as the night goes on.

When he wraps it around the balled-up form of Shang Qinghua, he makes a small huffing noise and nestles into it further. There is something cracking at the center of Mobei-Jun's chest. He didn't know it was possible to feel this way toward another person. He doesn't know what to do with this new knowledge of himself.

And so he does what he always does, when feeling too many things. Mobei-Jun goes to sleep.

Read Part 3 here (x)

[fic-dumpster]

The road so far

Summary: Have you ever wondered what goes through a writer’s mind while she’s trying to complete the stories you like so much? Well! Wonder no more! Here’s a first look into a writer’s unstable mind!

Characters: Bonten against Omi (no x because it’s war)

Word count: 1K

Content Warnings: fighting, slight breaking of the fourth wall, sitcoms, crackfic, it’s a joke. Yes, it can be read as x reader… just pretend. Hostility, a meme, DIH references, other fandoms mentioned.

A.N: TAKEOMI IS NOT OMI. I am Omi. I wrote this in 15 so it’s very rushed. idk… this is me trying to portray my internal struggles while I write. I just worked joke of 1000 words… and yes, characters never listen to what we want.

“If you think we’re gonna cooperate with you after leaving us for almost three years, you’re delusional,” Kokonoi crossed his legs once he sat down in front of Omi.

Omi had called a meeting with Bonten in hopes of coming to an agreement. She needed to work on her WIPs but her characters weren’t cooperating.

“As a matter of fact, I am delusional,” Omi answered, sipping from her water bottle, “anyway, I just need to finish the rest of the meetings and we’re done! Swear!”

Around her, the rest of Bonten sat with serious faces. Nobody was happy to be there. After her disappearance a few years ago, things weren’t quite as peaceful between them as they used to be.

“Yeah, yeah. I see how you are. Use us and drop us.” Sanzu sounded bitter and angry. He didn’t take the vanishing so well. He had bonded with her and she just left him. That wasn’t right in his book.

“Ugh, women…” With a sigh, Rindou stretched his long limbs, showing how tired and stressed he was.

“What do you mean ‘ugh? Women?’” Omi harshly questioned Rindou with a frown on her face.

“Nothing…” he replied nonchalantly, sitting up straight once again.

“Forget that! You clearly have preferences for certain members.” As she heard that voice her skin began to crawl. Hair standing on end, Omi slowly turned towards the source— once she saw his obnoxious face, only irritation was left behind.

“Oh, shut up, Ran! I wrote your story with your brother first! Why are you complaining?” She quickly replied, raising her hand in protest.

“Because he’s one of those,” added Mochi in a whisper.

So much of a whisper that was… half the men present burst out laughing which caused Ran to sigh in frustration. He was done. So many years and he still didn’t know what the hell that meant.

“We can't just hop back in,” Takeomi’s voice raised above the hysterical laughter of his peers.

Omi deflated at his words. She dreaded the worst… Was this how things were going to end?

“Please, I’ll do anything! I can’t leave the story like that!” Her eyes began to water as desperation crept in.

“Well, too bad! You left!” Sanzu’s bitterness didn’t falter, not even at the sight of unshed tears in her eyes.

“I said I was sorry! And I was busy with life, you know?”

“Yeah? Life? Then who are those guys? Rhysand? Sylus? Jinshi?” Sanzu spoke each name with disdain.

“Yeah! Who’s Umemiya? And some dude named Hoshina?” Rindou backed him up.

“More? I only heard about Sanji—” Kakucho suddenly intervened but was cut off by Omi.

“Okay! Stop! Oh my gosh!! Stoop!” Omi’s face had changed three different types of red in the last few seconds, “That… has nothing to—“

“Bullshit! I call bullshit! You created a different blog for the Stylus guy!” Sanzu was not dropping the subject.

“Oh my gosh! Let it go! And his name is Sylus!”

“AHAA!” Pink hairs wildly flew everywhere as Sanzu stood up and pointed an accusatory finger at Omi.

“Just… just help me write the few chapters I’m missing and the end. That’s all I’m asking… I lost the WIPs and I can’t by myself…” she pleaded. Internally praying they understood her dire situation.

“What do we get in return?” Mikey finally spoke after observing the back and forth between his men and Omi.

That sentence perked her up. A ray of hope finally came in between the stormy clouds.

“What-what would you want?” She asked with bright eyes and a new determination ignited.

“We can discuss that later,” Mikey waved his hand dismissively.

Omi nodded eagerly in return. Finally! Some progress. “Okay, fine… that’s good…”

After Mikey’s short exchange of words, they decided to end the meeting. It was time to move forward and begin working. Everyone stood up and began to leave the room.

They saw Omi move to the side with Takeomi and they started to talk amicably, with smiles and very friendly hand gestures. It was like time had never passed for them. She didn’t treat him differently and Takeomi seemed comfortable with her.

“Why does she like the old man…” Kakucho wondered out loud.

“It’s the daddy issues, I bet,” Sanzu was seething as he kept watching the scene play in front of him.

“What did you say?!” You turned your head like the exorcist once you heard those words leave Sanzu’s lips.

“Does she have superhuman hearing? How the hell did she hear you?” Ran said with a bit of panic in his voice.

And it began. Omi had been chasing the pink-haired man for a while now…

“I DON'T NEED YOU, SANZU! I CAN FINISH DIH WITHOUT YOU!” But before she could catch him, a pair of hands caught her first, “UGH! KAKUCHO LET ME GO! HE’S DEAD!”

Meanwhile a bit further away from the commotion.

“We have agreed to help her. Was it really necessary to do all the drama?” Questioned Takeomi to Mikey and Mochi. The three men watched the rest battling it out.

“We voted and the majority chose to make drama before agreeing,” Mikey said as his eyes followed Sanzu speeding away from Omi,

“Even Koko?” Mochi was surprised by that information.

“Even Koko.” Mumbled the short man.

“RAN, YOU TOO! BOTH YOU AND SANZU ARE DEAD!” Omi yelled, still being held by Kakucho who was trying to help diffuse the situation.

“What did I do?”

“YOU’RE ONE OF THOSE!” She kicked her feet in an attempt to be let loose, “I SHOULD HAVE KEPT WRITING FOR HAIKYUU! They wouldn’t treat me like this!”

“Yeah? Well, go and play ball with your sporty boys!” Ran screamed back.

“You’re insufferable!” Omi screamed as she tackled Ran to the ground.

“She became way more violent in the years we didn’t see her,” Mikey commented and the rest of his executive nodded in agreement. Everyone just watched Omi and Ran scuffling on the floor.

Bonus:

Omi: and then you do as it says here *points to the script*

Kakucho: that’s too mean. I don’t want to do that.

Omi: you’re a criminal! How is it mean to push her face down and—

Kakucho: shhh no please *blushing*

Omi: I’m working with amateurs… *throws her stack of paper into the trash*

[maleyanderecafe]

Dear Villainous Husband , the One to be Obsessed with is Over There (Webcomic)

Created by: Menanic

Genre: Isekai

I wish the translation for this one was a bit better, but I do think that there are a lot of fun things that I haven't seen as much in other isekai such as a tyrant that actually does seem fairly scary, another person besides the main character who has been isekaied into this world and the plot of trying to get back to the original body. The empress can also be sinister as the tyrant, though sadly it's not utilized as much as I would have hoped. As of writing this there are about 40 chapters out right now, and the yandere takes a while for him to kick in (like a long while).

The story starts out with the male lead, Lanius pretty much killing all of his sibling and his father from a young age because he was bored and wanted the title of king. Angelica, or Angie is chosen to be Lanius's empress, with Angie crying as she doesn't want to be killed considering she read the book before she isekaied. She wants to do her best to survive and run away. Angie asks Lanius why he chose to marry her of all people, with Lanius recounting that he had a whole wall of marriage candidates in which (to his eyes) looked the same, so he ended up throwing a knife, which landed in the portrait of Angie's eye. Initially, Angie is kind of bullied by the maids until she decides to bring in one of her own from her old hometown. The head maid, Jacques gets majorly angry after Angie tries to defend herself from the bullying, with us seeing that she's also the mother of the main love interest in the story, Sylvia, who is also being abused by Jacques. Afraid of what Lanius will do if he's too bored, Angie proposes a manhunt to sate Lanius's bloodlust, which works well, however Lanius states he will only do it if Angie participates as well. Angie agrees and starts training. While she prefers a bow and arrow as to not get to close to the opponent, Lanius also trains her on sword fighting as he wants her to survive. On the day of the manhunt, Lanius feeds Angie some sort of drug that makes her much more fearless and ruthless. She is able to finally kill the maid that bullied her thus ending the man hunt once and for all and bring Sylvia to work for her. Angie gets nightmares after about this event.

After a banquet where she flexes her authority as the empress, Angie decides to go to Tunia to find the original male lead, Eden a knight for the Templar. She does find him there and finds that he too is a transgressor, isekaing into the world similar to how she has. The two of them discusses the possibility of trying to go back to their original world before having to disperse as to not cause Lanius suspicions. Lanius does seem to catch on, visibly being more jealous when Angie and Eden talk, which forces to the two to send secret messages with each other. Angie and Eden discuss their escape plans together, with Angie preparing for escaping Lanius while the romance between Angie and Lanius grows stronger to the point where Lanius actually seems to like her instead of having her be just an interesting toy to him, with him bringing her to different places as sort of dates. Angie is starting to waver at the idea of going back home though as she feels there's nothing to go back to and that she is actually falling for Lanius as well. Lanius goes on a mission to kill a bunch of monsters, finding out that feeding the offspring their mother's corpse actually makes them loyal to him, and Eden during the fight also finds a special door that could relate to getting them back to their world, something that it seems only he can see. With Angie, she finds a book that is similar, with details that only she can read. Eden also decides to disguise himself as a butler at Angie's estate to gain more information and be able to communicate with Angie more easily. We learn that Sylvia still has a vendetta against Lanius, that the only way to get back to their old world is that Lanius has to die, something that Angie seems to struggle with coming to terms with. Angie ends up trying to start her escape plan by refusing to go with Lanius to the war and buying up an inn area to live in.

Like I said before, there are a lot of good concepts in this webcomic that are pretty interesting and well utilized (if only the translation weren't so bad). I feel with a lot of isekai plotlines, the villain characters or tyrant characters are not... that evil? They can be of course, and it can serve its purpose in the story, but I feel like with Lanius I can actually see why Angie would be so scared of him. His intro of killing his siblings and his father to attain the crown was really brutal, and the scenes after when trying to explain why he chose Angie in the first place and how he slyly threatens her does make me understand why Angie would be really wary around him. I do wish it continued to show more of it, maybe like killing off some employee he didn't like, but we do see him basically take control of an entire monster army and run like two man hunts, so there is at least something to it. I think it's also interesting that he's not a yandere right away, with him being more like a threatening psychopath instead. While I do like yanderes that are more upfront about their yandereness (just mostly because it's easier for me to write a recommendation on) I do think that waiting for the eventual development of feelings does help with Angie's dilemma of staying with him versus going back home, as his death is what will allow her and Eden to eventually go back. Speaking of Eden, it's very astonishing to me that there is so little isekai that have more than one character isekai into the same world. I feel like that has a lot of potential for good team ups, rivalries and various other arcs that I guess nobody wants to actually write about for isekais. I also think that the premise of Angie actually slowly developing some of Lanius's traits of being intimidating and seemingly heartless in some scenes (namely the witch hunt, the banquet and the inn at the end) were really fun too, even if the first time was induced by drugs. I really wished that it was something that showed up more often since I really do like that side of her and is a good corruption arc type thing when hanging out with Lanius.

Lanius starts out as a typical psychopath who only cares about what sick things entertain him, but it's done pretty well to showcase how terrifying he actually is. Besides the initial backstory of how he was able to rise to the throne, the fact that Angie was pretty much chosen out of chance and the fact that he is basically implies through the fact that he finds them so uninteresting that he can't recognize their faces that if she does something that he considers boring, he could just kill her. I'm not sure why he tries to help her out by feeding her the drug to make her more fearless, or even tries to train her but maybe it's to heighten his enjoyment (?) of watching the manhunt? I have no idea. I do think that Lanius eventually getting pretty possessive over Angie (especially when Eden shows up in the picture) and apparently in the webnovel, Lanius goes pretty yandere stockholm after he finds out that Angie tries to escape and pretty much confines her, which does sound very in character for someone like him. I also think it's a good way to drive tension when Angie does start falling for him and then finds out that the only way to really go back home is to have Lanius die. I feel kind of bad for Eden though since he does actually seem like he wants to go back, so that's going to be an issue for Angie even if she does want to stay.

I do think that this webcomic has a lot of good ideas, and it executes them at least somewhat decently. The only real problem I have with it is that I think Lanius could go even farther with being ruthless to his people and that the translation just isn't that good. If it follow the plot of the webnovel with Angie basically being imprisoned by Lanius, I think that would be really great too.

[iizuumi]

using extra strength from number weapon suit to pick up boyfriend as intended

[mellotronmkll]

I neeeeed to work on my own music but I'm having way too much fun picking a new tmbg song to cover every day

[chlopieno]

.

vent ahead, sorry

[lovelivision]

Satoru finding out reader has a praise kink🙏🙏🙏

₊⁺ જ⁀➴💌 and so it was done !! gojo and praise kink might kill me 🙂‍↕️ hope you like it lovely !! 💗💗

꒰꒰mdni // masterlist꒱꒱

Gojo is completely unfair when he discovers your praise kink in bed, his head tucked into your neck as he hammers into you, his moans and whimpers making your spine tingle. His hands everywhere on your body, pulling your face to his, lips interlocking hotly as he shoves his tongue in your mouth.

When he pulls back your lips are connected by a string of saliva, snapping as he licks at his lower lip, “You feel so good, sweetie,” he groans.

His hips stutter at how your pussy flutters around him, the small praise getting to you more than you think it should. Something he catches onto quickly, a breathless kind of chuckle leaving him at his realisation.

“You like being told how good you feel?” His voice is low, words tickling against your ear.

Turning your head away, you try asking for mercy, “Satoru–”

“–Don’t be so shy,” he almost singsongs at you, “You’re doing so good for me, taking it so well.”

You gasp at his words, hands pushing at his chest. It’s embarrassing how quickly he picked up on how he’s making you feel.

“So– fuck–so tight, gripping me like crazy,” he chokes on his moans, trying to talk to you at the same time.

He’s going crazy, your snug cunt sucking him back in every time he pulls back, pussy wet and drooling obscenely around him, slick coating his length so much that there’s a creamy, white ring at the base of his cock.

Your skin grows warmer at his earnest words, at how he moans for you, bottom lip tucked between his teeth as he looks down between the two of you, to where he’s stuffing you full of his dick.

His eyes flick back to your face and it’s almost like he melts into a puddle for you all at once, a small whine leaving his lips before he has a chance to even think about stopping it. “You look really pretty,” he coos at you, large hand cradling your face.

The unexpected compliment has your pussy fluttering again, along with your heart, “I don’t think–”

“–I don’t think, I know,” his thumb pulls at your bottom lip before letting it go, “So beautiful while you let me fuck you full.”

His eyes are completely lost as he feeds you compliment after compliment, completely pussy drunk but still aware enough of what his praise does to keep spitting out nonsensical flattery. Words tripping over each other as his voice cracks with his moans and whimpers, the hand holding himself up gripping into the pillows behind you as he struggles to keep it together.

“Making the cutest faces– hnn– the cutest moans–” he intakes a sharp breath as you twitch around him, trailing off into a groan, “Don’t know how you feel so good, pussy divine– hah– fuck–”

The sounds of his pathetic moans and broken words have you dizzy, eyes hazy and wet as you struggle to focus in on his face. His own features wrecked, a lazy, blissed out smile on his face at how ruined and turned on he’s making you.

“Pretty little thing, look so hot when you’re close, sweetie.”

It’s entirely too much, his words pushing you over the edge, cumming all over his cock, coating him in your slick. Gojo doesn’t hold out much longer after, only really capable of a few more thrusts before he’s dumping his cum deep inside you, painting your walls white.

When he pulls out, he watches the way his cum dribbles from your cunt, his smile bright when he says, “You look pretty full of my cum.”

Proud of himself, even when you throw a pillow in his direction, because he now knows just how much you like when he compliments you and he’s never going to let you forget that.

[starkeysprincess]

⟢ FEELS TOO GOOD TO BE WRONG

presenting kinktober day 1 ➔︎ stepbro!rafe

warnings: stepcest, pillow humping, guided masturbation, fingering, pussy slapping, gagging, praising, & degrading. 18+ mdni word count: 1.5k

kinktober m.list ⟡ rafe m.list

rafe tip-toed his way up the stairs, not wanting to wake anyone, especially his stepmother, knowing she’d nag at him if she smelled even the slightest ounce of alcohol off him. his feet carried him to his room, ignoring the soft light under your bedroom door, figuring you must’ve forgotten to turn off the fairy lights that littered the room. 

he froze at small whimpers coming from your room, turning around and stopping outside his bedroom. he pressed his ear to the door, chewing on the side of his nail, listening for further noises.

your whimpers progressed, and nothing prepared him for the sight he saw of you, his sweet stepsister, when he quietly twisted the doorknob, cracking your door open ever so slightly. 

the soft yellow lights glowed around your silhouette as if you were an angel, yet your actions were nowhere close to pure. there you were, in nothing but a pair of baby blue panties and a tank top, rutting against a pillow that sat between your thighs. your eyes remained closed, brows furrowing as you rocked back and forth, trying to find a steady rhythm in hopes the plush pillow would graze your clit. 

rafe’s cock stiffened in his khakis, and he grinned to himself, taking your distraction as an opportunity to slip into your room, ensuring to shut the door without making a sound. he leaned against the door, crossed his arms over his chest, and continued to watch you for a few minutes. 

“what do we have here?” rafe chuckled. your eyes immediately opened, and you let out a small shriek in surprise. "w-why are you here?” you stuttered, heat rising to your cheeks in embarrassment. 

“thought you were having a nightmare and was just being a good big stepbrother and checkin’ on you,” rafe licked his lips, eyeing you, “what are you doing up, anyway?”.

“nothing,” your gaze shifted away from him. “nothin', huh?” your stepbrother taunted, “s’not what it looked like to me.” 

“could’ve sworn you were going at it like a bunny and humping away at your pillow,” he tsked. your lip wobbled as tears welled in your eyes; you weren’t sure if it was because you were ashamed or because you were overly frustrated from how horny you were, “i’m sorry”. 

rafe pushed himself off the wall and stalked towards you. he gripped your chin and tilted your head to look up at you. "stop crying, alright? crying isn’t going to get you anywhere.” 

your gaze drifted away from his, and you looked down at your hands in your lap, ushering another apology. his thumb swiped at your plump bottom lip, a tent starting to form in his khakis as the blood rushed to his cock, “mm, sweet girl, always sayin’ sorry”. 

the mattress dipped under his weight as he sat down, his rough hands grabbing at your waist and hoisting you onto his lap. your back was flush against his chest, and he had one hand sprawled across your lower tummy, fingers tracing patterns on your flesh, “you know…what you were doing s’nothing to be ashamed of”. 

it took every fiber in your being not to let out a small whimper when his leg bounced up and down, the material of his khakis rubbing your clit, “it’s not?”. rafe shook his head, “course not. you were just trying to make yourself feel good like the needy little thing you are, right?”.

“i’m not needy,” you murmured, crossing your arms over your chest.

“yeah? if that were true, you wouldn’t be trying to get yourself off by your pillow, would you?” rafe chuckled, “there are other ways to make yourself feel good…like using your fingers”. 

you couldn’t help but frown, “that’s not true”.  

the blonde shook his head, “then you must not be doing it right… i could teach you. would you like that, sweet girl?”.

your eyes lit up, nodding slowly at his offer, and his hand slid down your tummy to your thighs, spreading them further open. his fingers hooked into the waistband of your panties, tugging at it gently to pull it to the side, “pay attention to what i say, alright?”. 

once you give him confirmation, rafe grabs your hand, guiding it between your legs, “go on, stretch your little cunt with your fingers,” he rasps. you run your fingers through your slick folds, pushing two fingers into your wet cunt, “there you go,” he cooed, his hand pressing on your tummy, pulling you closer into him, “slowly move them in and out”. 

you listen to him, slowly pumping your fingers in and out of your slick pussy. your fingers move with ease as your arousal coats your fingers, and rafe groans, his hardon poking against your ass. his hand slid up your tummy to your tits, squeezing and massaging them. his thumb and forefinger pinch your nipple through your tank top, rolling it between his fingers, “c’mon princess, move them a little faster”. 

“atta girl, feels good, yeah?”.

“n-no, rafey, this feels wrong,” you shook your head, it was eating you alive. your mind racing with the thoughts of how wrong it is to let your step brother talk you through how to please yourself. 

“no? nothin’ is wrong if it makes you feel this good, but i guess i gotta do everything myself then, huh?” he scoffed. his fingers encircled your wrist, pulling it away to replace your fingers with his. 

“oh–” you gasped, his fingers moving to rub up and down your slit, slipping one finger deep inside you. he pushed his thick digit in and out, slowly working your needy hole open before adding another finger. he was knuckle-deep in your cunt, his fingers dragging against your inner walls with each push and pull motion.

you couldn’t help the whine you let out, bucking your hips against his fingers, “see, nothing wrong if it makes you feel good, right?”.

a small squeak traveled up your throat when he landed a light smack to your clit, “answer me, say ‘yes rafey, it’s not wrong if it feels good’. c’mon, say it, or i’ll leave you to go back to humping your pillow, and we both know it doesn’t nearly feel as good as this”.

you couldn’t bring yourself to say it; the way his fingers curled made your brain blank. you pushed your body further back against him, whining when he suddenly stopped, “why’d you stop?”.

“told you i’d stop, guess you’re on your own,” he shrugged, his fingers still buried deep inside you. you rolled your hips, trying to give yourself some relief, only to receive another smack to your clit. 

“you know what i wanna hear,” he murmured, nipping your ear lobe, “admit that it feels good, tell me how good it feels to have my fingers stuffed inside you”.

despite knowing it was wrong, you couldn’t help but admit that it does feel good, his fingers were making you feel pleasure like you’ve never felt before. 

“good girl,” rafe praised, pistoning his fingers once again, “such a good girl for letting me play with this pretty little pussy”.

your head lolls back, resting on his broad shoulder, “rafe,” you whine. your moans increasingly getting louder the faster he pumped his fingers while he continued to toy with your nipples.

his free hand slid up your neck, prodding his fingers against your lips before shoving his middle and ring fingers into your mouth, “gonna wake everyone up if you can’t keep your mouth shut, and we can’t have that, can we?”.

you hum in response, gagging when he shoves his fingers further down your throat, muffling your sweet moans. the sound of your pussy squelching around his fingers was music to his ears, “you hear that? hear how fuckin’ wet you are?”. 

“touch yourself, play with your clit f’me,” he whispered, groaning when you obeyed, watching you rub sloppy circles onto your clit. he dipped his head down, nuzzling his face into your neck, teeth grazing your sensitive skin, “yeah, just like that, princess. goddamn, you’re so wet, drippin’ all over my fingers”.

your breath hitches in your throat, drool coating rafe’s fingers as the tips of his fingers hit against your cervix, “look so fuckin’ pretty when your holes are stuffed full like the needy little slut you are,” he murmured, nipping at your neck. 

you push your head back onto his shoulder and look at him with half-lidded eyes. your chest is heaving as your breathing becomes sporadic, and you feel the coil in your stomach tighten. 

“that’s it, princess, cum all over my fingers. show me how much you love having me play with your pussy,” rafe whispers, grunting from the way your moans are muffled as you’re practically choking on his fingers. 

your eyes squeeze shut as you come undone, his fingers continuing to work you through your orgasm until your body slumps against him.

rafe removed his fingers from your mouth before pulling his hand away from your cunt. he brought his arousal-covered fingers to his mouth, humming as he sucked them clean, “taste so fuckin’ sweet”.

“see? felt better than your pillow, huh?” he teased, bucking his hips, his hard cock grinding against the plump flesh of your ass, “feel that? s’all ’cause of you, sweet girl”.

“think it’s your turn to help me out now”.

taglist: @oceandriveab @babygorewhore @cameronsprincess @xxbimbobunnyxx @fae-of-prey @heartsforvin @zyafics @justafangirls-blog @sturnioloshacker @userchai @bunnyrafe @drewstarkeys-world @nemesyaaa @drewsarms @fallbhind @rafesthroatbaby @rafestaurusgf @hallecarey1 @fallrafwe @rafecameroninterlude @johnnycakess @sturnskiss @blckbrrybasket @shawtycoreee @rafeyscurtainbangs @wearemadeofstardust0 @juniebugg @honeybunniesoobin @spacexdrago @starkeysbebe @chimindity @spid6y @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @amandabbbbb @kisses4angel @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @starkeysheart @rafeinterlude @flvredcas @emilysuperswag @hyperfixationgirl @eternalbuckley @redhead1180 @ijustwanttoreadlols @slumnit @xoxohoneymoongirl @starkeyisthelastname

[evilgwrl]

ExHusband!Simon x Reader

You Want a Divorce? (One)

Note: I'm having the WORST writer's block now so pls excuse my lack of proper writing... I'm currently sitting in front of a beach writing in hopes that ill gain inspo

CW: Angst, mentions of sex, jealous/possessive Simon, PLS DONT LEAVE YOUR KIDS IN THE CAR !!! Or break into someone’s house

Inspired by: Ex!Husband Simon

PART TWO

Simon stared at you. The shades of his eyes simmering into endless voids of obsidian, blonde lashes moulded against his greased lids, the residue of the perpetual torture his body had succumbed to during deployment.

“You want a divorce?” He spoke, voice deep as he flickered between your shaking heads, sweat soiling into the papers gripped firmly and your swollen face, cheeks feverish with a red hue, eyes even more so.

You held back a rough sob, throat stripped of all moisture evident in your hoarse voice as you spoke, “Yes, Simon. I think it would be best for our family… for us.”

He scoffed. “You think the best thing for our family is to separate?”

“We already pretty much are. You’re away for days, weeks, months at a time. We’re hardly a family and it’s difficult to explain to the children why I’m crying.”

“Ok then.”

That was it. You would admit, it stung. His lacklustre tone felt like a stab in the gut, the blade drenched with anthrax as it reared blistering sores internally, the effects having shown through your putrid complexion. Your skin was dull, practically lifeless, the only living form of you grew day by day through the darkening of eyebags that almost made you look apocalyptic.

It had been 12 months of separation, officially 8 being legally divorced. You kept his last name, the permanent burn of hearing Mrs Riley still searing through you with every syllable, yet you feel it would only hurt you more if they said Ms.

Simon was often away now, and the minimal family time he used to get felt pointless as the shabby apartment he moved into after the sudden interference of your mind-boggling news barely fit the two kids you shared. His body felt more relentless on him, the taunting of his mind fulgurated the inoperative reality that he would come home to you, to his family.

His voice, almost like it dropped an octave had grown richer in aggression, tormenting those he deemed suitable, both with his tongue and with his bruised knuckles, an oil painting of blue and purple hues radiating across the pale flesh as he shrugged it off to his team as “pushing himself and others to do better”.

Couldn’t you realise your mistake? Wouldn’t you prefer crying in his arms about his absence than never having it fulfilled again?

As he looked around the bleak environment, tan stained walls revolting the creaking mattress he had brought someone home to, someone who wasn’t you. It made him feel sick like a viral infection had slunk its way into his bloodstream as he laid next to a woman that failed to make his cock throb, endless images of you sprawled out under him flickering. No wonder he called out your name instead.

You felt the familiar shake of your hands every time your phone dinged; Simon’s dreary tone was evident through his dry “On the way” text. You ushered a day of your children’s life into their cartoon-themed backpacks, innocent smiles adorning their skin, doe-like eyes of brown, far too familiar to Simon’s staring up at you.

The sound of his car scraping into your paved driveway almost made you feel like throwing up, the nerves of seeing him combined with the already present pit of anxiety due to your date later turning you into one big shaky mess as you brushed it off as “too much caffeine”.

The echo of his car door slamming shut rung through your ears, staining you with the reiteration that your ex-husband was now at your door, heavy fists knocking upon the wood. The image you saw of him in your mind morphed back to reality as you stared at him, a blank expression on your face.

“Hi, love.”

“Hi, Simon.”

Your frown was clear, the pet name you were so used to becoming a distant memory in the past few months. It was a hole you were attempting to fill, to clear yourself away from his teasing tongue and faux impression of a healthy relationship. You were divorced for a reason, you knew that, but as you gazed upon the lack of life in his skin, it was almost like he was holding a mirror up to you.

“Daddy!” You watched as your 5-year-old, Ella, practically leapt into his hefty frame, his hands coiling around her like second nature. You could feel his warmth, the heat that would build in your stomach when you felt those same digits touch you.

“Hi sweetheart,” his voice gruff, yet tone lighter as he placed a delicate kiss on the skin of her forehead, “You miss me?”

She nodded, her face buried in the hem of his neck as your other child cooed from the bouncy chair, tubby legs attempting to wheel himself to the door.

“There’s my boy,” Simon practically cooed as he placed Ella down, bounding inside as he lifted the toddler out, grabby arms reaching out to pull at Simon’s locks, gentle tugs causing you to laugh.

Your voice cut through the scene like glass. Why would you want to destroy such a happy moment? Weren’t you supposed to be reuniting? Just say it, tell Simon you want him to come home, that you need him.

“This is Ella’s bag,” you speak, holding up the pink Minnie Mouse bag, “And this is Toby’s.” Your son giggled as he muffled out the words, “Transformers”.

Simon nodded, “Are you doing anything tonight?”

Ella practically screeched, “Mummy’s going on a date!” The thrill of her laughter that followed only seemed to make the situation more awkward.

“A date?” Simon’s voice was deadly, the hair raising on your arms as you shook your head, a tight smile on your suddenly dry lips.

“No, no, nothing like that. Just catching up with an old colleague of mine.”

“But he’s a boy, Mummy,” Ella giggled. Who was raising your daughter to be such a big mouth? Your face formed an annoyed look, eyebrows raising as a line of wrinkles crinkled against your forehead, your pointer fingers massaging your temples.

“An old colleague?” Simon practically gasped. Had he met him at your old work Xmas parties?

“Let’s get you guys in the car.” You fumbled with Toby’s car seat as you strapped him in, your nimble fingers shaking with anxiety before you shut the door, pressing a kiss against the window before wiping away the minimal residue of dirt. Gross.

“Who is he?” His tone was acerbic like he was looking for an argument. How dare you try and replace him? He was your husband, the father of your two kids? Have you seen this random man before? Had he fucked you?

“God, Simon-“

“Who is he?” Simon was relentless, bullying his way into getting the answers as his arms folded across his chest, tattoos practically screaming at you too.

“His name’s Andrew. I ran into him at a coffee shop a few weeks back and he just wanted to catch up. That’s it.”

A loud scoff sounded in the air. “You mean that geezer from that corporate job you hated? The one who didn’t know it was weird to blatantly stare down your dress when you were standing next to your fucking husband?”

“He didn’t stare down my dress! You’re not my husband anymore, Simon. I can see who I want.”

“I don’t want our children to grow up thinking they have multiple dads.”

You’ll admit, that stung.

“Multiple dads? You’re out of your mind. The only reason they would ever believe they have multiple dads is if their real one stopped showing up. And where have you been, Simon? When have you shown up?”

Simon held his tongue, the warmth of the metallic taste gashing through his teeth as he practically snarled past you. “I’ll bring them back tomorrow.”

The dress you wore was practically suffocating you as you tucked your stomach in. Simon never minded the change in your figure after motherhood, he found himself liking it even more. He loved knowing that his seed put you through that, that he made you swell with his children, and he brought out the glow in your cheeks and the delicate stretch marks that laced your hips.

Andrew was nice. His tone was comforting as he walked to your door, ushering you to his car as he insisted you could order whatever you wanted. He was handsome, the salt and pepper hues of his hair settling your insecurity.

“We’ll take the Pinot Noir,” he spoke, looking at you with an almost arrogant sheer in his blue eyes. You only liked white. Simon knew that just like he knew everything about y-

You’re not with Simon anymore. You had to realise that. Maybe that’s why you brought Andrew home, let him shove his cock (that was a lot smaller than what you were used to) inside your heat, as you let out moans you had mimicked from the porn you watched with the actor that resembled far too much of your ex-husband.

Simon's fingers gripped the steering wheel early the next morning, your two children snuggled up in the backseat as he drove back to his old house, your old home. He wasn’t a man who gave up easy, he would show you, prove to you that you made a mistake. You needed each other.

Hold on. You don’t drive a red car?

His car lurched into the entrance of your home, nearly ramming into the garage as he shoved it in park, rolling down the two back windows slightly for air as he dug around in the small side compartment of his car.

The familiar gold key he had stolen from you the night he packed up all his stuff stared back at him, practically egging him on. Go on Simon, march in there. So he did. His hand rattled against the door knob, glancing back to peak into the car for a second before he slammed the door shut.

Your body froze. Were you being robbed? No. It was only Simon. A very angry-looking Simon. You stood, the white sheet barely shielding your naked body as he took in the sight of the man next to you, his hands wrapping around his shoulders as he practically ripped him out of bed, flinging him onto the floor as he grunted, eyes reared with hatred.

“Simon, what the fuck are you doing? WHERE ARE THE KIDS?”

Andrew groaned, on the floor, covering his groin as Simon chucked the masculine clothes at his head, the thin boxers soiled across the man’s scalp as he trembled.

“Our kids are asleep in the car, waiting for their Mummy to come to the zoo with them.” Simon’s words were despicable, laced with an acrimonious tone, small particles of spit seething through his lips as stared at you.

He turned to the man, a giant frame staggering over the top of him. “Get the fuck out, and if you wake up our kids when you go past, I will personally put a bullet straight in the middle of your skull,” he said, pushing a thick digit against his forehead as Andrew rushed out, clothes barely on before you felt the front door shut, a cry of apologises leaving your lips as you tried to assist him but Simon only held you back, a tight grip coiling around your arm.

“What the fuck was that? How’d you get in?” You couldn’t even place the words to say, humiliation roaring through you as you snuggled the sheet closer to you, away from his peering eyes.

“It’s time to be a family again, don’t you think love?”

[phagodyke]

bwueourhghhh

[tonycries]

FIRST masterlist! This masterlist has all my writing from 06/02/24 up until 01/10/24 — for my recent works click on my SECOND MASTERLIST <3

Men In Uniform Do It Best!

Dirty Lil' Secrets

A Picture Lasts Long (But Not As Long As That D*ck)

I'm Addicted, I Admit It!

Give Me Tough Love

Never Ever Seen This Before!

We Don't Have No Babies!

Like A Fever

Bad Things (To You)

Prettier When Messy!

Care For You!

Green-eyed Monster

So Lonely In My Mansion!

Kiss Me More!

Girl, I Do This Often

Cause, I Love Freaks!

Sl*t Me Out!

Match My Freak!

WAP!

R U Mine?

Hot To Go!

Girl, You Earned It!

I'm A BIG Stepper!

BODY-ODY!

SOOO ANXIOUS

Long Overdue!

THIS P*SSY DEPRESSED!

The Family Matter?!

I-T G-I-R-L!

I Lasted Ten Rounds!

BRAT!

She's My Vitals!

ONE-SHOTS

Three's a Crowd (But Four...) — “So, are they like holograms? Or can you really touch them?” “Why? Trynna cop a feel, sweetheart?” In which you and your boyfriend find very unconventional uses for his powers.

Why Can't I Keep My Fingers Off You? [Part 1] [Part 2] — There were two things missing in the scene in front of you: 1. The aphrodisiac chocolate your friends had given as a gag gift last Christmas that had been hidden away in the back of your refrigerator. 2. Your dear fiancé.

Dream A Little Dream — For the strongest, it was a privilege to dream. Especially when his dream is you. 

Initiation! — “Just a small initiation, nothing too serious.” Couldn’t be too hard, right? So why are you - the all-new frat sweetheart - being pinned to the bed and stuffed full from all ends by your frat brothers?

One More? Please? — A kiss always solves everything! But when a kiss turns into something more…well, it’s only a desperate attempt to unseal yourselves from this damned prison realm, right? Right?

Everybody Knows That I'm a Good Girl, Officers... — You don’t know what’s faster - how fast you were speeding down the highway, or how fast you’re on your knees for the hot officers that just so happen to pull you over.

Hope They Catch Us — When you’re on-screen, it’s always a rivalry to see who’s best - you just never thought that it would be the same struggle in bed.

Unmistakably Yours — In which the strongest bends space and time - literally - after coming back from deatḣ, to do what he’s always wanted to do - you.

Madam Gojo — Gojo Satoru, the strongest clan leader in all of Japan - and the most dangerous, too. You, rejected by the elders, and totally not his future bride, right? Right?

Can't Touch Me (Like Gojo) — In which intentionally making your fríend-with-benefíts jealous ends up with more benefits than you’d think.

The Heir — No, your clan leader husband won’t stop until he gives you an heir. No, you don’t think you’ll make it out alive.

LONGFICS

The Call — After an explosive fight with your boyfriend, you really should feel sorry about being swept up by the blue-eyed stranger at the club - but it’s so hard when he kisses you like that.

Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy — He knows that you would be one of his favorite stories from his travels. And you know that you want nothing more than to stay by his side. After meeting an alluring cowboy at Ol’ Rustcliffe Saloon, both of you are sure of one thing - this must be fate.

Go For It, Gojo! [Part 1] [Part 2] — You wouldn’t fuck Gojo Satoru even if you were paid…is what you thought exactly five minutes before you were shoved against the wall of this cramped closet, his face stuffed in your soaked panties.

Unhoneymooners!? — The universe was surely playing a joke on you. Here you were, trapped on a luxury getaway with your - dangerously handsome, extremely obnoxious - ex. Either you were going to kill each other or end up pinned beneath him, split apart on his cóck. You just didn’t know what would come first.

AITA For F*cking My Sugar Daddy's Son?! — When your sugar daddy just isn’t paying attention to you, can you really be blamed for fúcking his son? Especially when his son is absolutely obsessed with you.

Bad Boys Bring Roses — You’ve never dealt with the yakuza - not once. So why is the future head of the Gojo clan suddenly coming up to you, demanding that you marry him for 30 days?

The Way You Kiss Me — The four times Satoru tries really hard not to kiss you - his best friend’s pretty younger sister. And the one time he doesn’t.

Isn't That Sweet? (I Guess So) — Oh no! Why do your pantíes keep disappearing? Well, maybe your hot roommate knows the answer…

Haunting You — A bIoody trail of vampire attácks, a political marriage, and four suitors you’re forced to choose from - all haunting you. But none as much as the mysterious stranger that makes everything in you scream that you might just be fated for the very thing your kingdom is trying to escape from.

You'll Taste Me Too! — How do you last three days on a work trip with the man you hate the most in the office? You don’t - you end up pinned underneath him, instead.

We Neva Play! — Turns out, the “r” in rivals stands for “really good séx” when a mission becomes a little too hot to handle.

Something Stupid — Five times the strongest would rather díe than tell you he loves you, and the one time he almost does. Almost.

ONE-SHOTS

Initiation! — “Just a small initiation, nothing too serious.” Couldn’t be too hard, right? So why are you - the all-new frat sweetheart - being pinned to the bed and stuffed full from all ends by your frat brothers?

Like An Animal — Of course Toji doesn’t want any more kids. Of course he’s lying as he stuffs your pretty cúnt full of his cúm for the third time tonight.

Whiskey, Neat, With a Side of You — When your date stands you up, you’re lucky that the hot bartender is more than happy to keep you company! 

Everybody Knows That I'm a Good Girl, Officers... — You don’t know what’s faster - how fast you were speeding down the highway, or how fast you’re on your knees for the hot officers that just so happen to pull you over.

F*ck You! (Literally) — Of course, you hated your ex-husband. Of course, you found yourself in bed with him on your wedding anniversary.

LONGFICS

Government Hooker — With the fame and glory of being an international popstar comes the inevitable threat of an overzealous stalker. You just didn’t think that it would also come with a very sexy, buff bodyguard behind your every move.

Madam Zenin — There’s nothing that rouses Toji, the infamous head of the Zenin clan, nothing that will make him lose control - until they take what’s most important to him. You.

ONE-SHOTS

Brooklyn Baby — Everybody wanted to fuck Suguru Geto, lead bassist of Tokyo Special Grades. Said Suguru doesn’t want to fuck anyone else but you. He couldn’t give less of a fuck if anyone walked in right now. In fact, a small part of him wishes someone would.

Initiation! — “Just a small initiation, nothing too serious.” Couldn’t be too hard, right? So why are you - the all-new frat sweetheart - being pinned to the bed and stuffed full from all ends by your frat brothers?

Golden Boy — Falling right back in love with the cult leader you’re supposed to kíll? Happens more often than you’d think.

LONGFICS

ONE-SHOTS

Initiation! — “Just a small initiation, nothing too serious.” Couldn’t be too hard, right? So why are you - the all-new frat sweetheart - being pinned to the bed and stuffed full from all ends by your frat brothers?

A Million Dollar Baby! — Turns out, rent can be paid in much more than one way.

LONGFICS

ONE-SHOTS

Welcome To The Itadori's! — Three times Choso really, really wanted to hold you without his family barging in, and the one time he actually does. 

FIVE! — Five hours - it’s all it takes for Choso’s baby fever to take over. After all, you’d look so pretty with his kid - five of them, in fact.

LONGFICS

Great With Kids? (You Can Have Mine) — When your younger brother gets a new babysitter, only two questions linger on your mind: 1. How come your parents didn’t trust you in charge? 2. How dare the sexy babysitter be so perfect - it made you want some attention too.

Freak On The Cam! — Choso always loved watching you - his pretty lil’ camgírl - from behind the screen. Who knew he’d love being on-screen with you even more?

ONE-SHOTS

Can't Touch Me (Like Gojo) — In which intentionally making your fríend-with-benefíts jealous ends up with more benefits than you’d think.

LONGFICS

Exes who...

Love Is Blind

“She My Best Friend, Yeah We Not a Couple.”

Wanna Do Bad Things To You

I Wanna Get Freaky On Camera

Lemme Ride, Baby!

Can I Fill You Up, Baby?

"Pull On It. Harder."

Little Heaven

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