#moss takes over everything

[reallyghostlypost]

[Fic] The dangers of camping in the valley's forests

You know what Stardew Valley needs? More cryptids and unknown creatures. Also more fics with Jadu and Gill.

Jadu wrapped his cloak tighter around him. He actually liked whenever Camilla was sending him to visit Marlon, listening to him and Gill share stories and gossip around the campfire was always a delight, but he really couldn't get used with the weather in the Valley. Autumn nights here were always bitter cold for him, used with either the desert heat or the dry cold nights of the Badlands, not these humid winds that seem to seep into your bones. He took another gulp of hot mulled wine and looked up at the mountains.

The nature surrounding them was already shrouded in darkness despite the sky still having a greyish orange tint from the setting sun. The vegetation was too thick to see even a foot forward and to someone trained to fight in open terrain of the corrupted desert it felt really claustrophobic. Shadow brutes, or any monster really, could be just a few steps away from him and he wouldn't be any wiser.

Jadu moved closer to the fire, feeling his teeth start to clatter. Really, he wasn't a child any longer to get scared by creepy stories told around the fire. But he couldn't help but feel that the shadows between the trees were unnaturally dark. He realized that Marlon stopped speaking a while ago and that made him tense suddenly. What was happening?

Looking up he noticed both Marlon and Gill staring at the same spot... tree? Jadu tried to see whatever got their attention but there didn't seem to be anything there. A sound then came from the darkness, like a stream of water running over rocks. Were they this close to the river? But listening closer he could also hear whispers, like a group of people were close by speaking silently with each other. Jadu gripped the wand stashed in his robes.

He was started to feel dizzy. This odd noise of water and whispers reminded him when he was training with Camilla by the river. He still didn't know what potion she gave him that time, but it was supposed to help him communicate with the elementals. The river then started to speak with him in a similar way, to call him with whispers hidden beneath the clear sound of running water, awfully familiar, and Jadu knew that he would be able to understand what it was telling him if only he could get a little closer. He could feel his mouth numb, a weird sweet taste on his tongue. He was so close to the water now, only a step forward and he could fall in the river to join the whispers, when a hand shot up to stop him from drowning himself.

Jadu jumped violently pulling the wand from his robes only to point it at Gill. "Sorry lad, but you looked really out of it." Gill apologized before removing his hand from his shoulder. Jadu was still panting trying to figure out what was happening. He could feel sweat on his back despite the cold air surrounding them.

"That owl is back." Marlon said in a tired voice. Jadu looked at the scarred adventurer then back at the same tree Marlon has been watching before, but he still couldn't see anything. Gill patted his shoulder without a word and pointed at a branch higher up in the tree and that's when Jadu noticed it. It was a small white owlet with black spots all over its feathers, small enough that could fit in the palm of his hand, but it was... wrong. Its almond shaped eyes were pitch black, with no pupils or irises, and was that a third eye on its forehead or just another black spot?

As soon as he laid eyes on the small owl his head cleared and most of the cold and dread was gone. Were they caused by the critter? Now that he was less confused Jadu could definitely recognize it as a dark elemental, inhuman spirit birthed from the darkness of the forests covering so much of the southern part of the Ferngill Republic.

The owlet opened its small black beak and the same weird water sounds mixed with whispers came out from it. Jadu could feel his ears getting stuffy, and the same coldness was starting to encroach him again. Marlon picked a rock and threw it at the bird who flew off with a horrible scream, like dozens of bats screeching at the same time. Just as it disappeared into the brown dry foliage Jadu noticed that it had a second identical face on the back of its head, it's second pair of eyes staring straight at him, making the hair at the back of his head stand up.

"Don't worry." Marlon reassured him as he poured more hot wine in his mug and urging him to drink. The heat of the wine felt good. "You'll get used with its magic soon enough and it won't affect you this badly."

"It hid into a crack of our roof for a while and we couldn't understand why we kept having nightmares or hallucinated in the middle of the day." Gill chuckled. "It wasn't pleasant, but the owl seems otherwise harmless. It keeps following us around and tries to get back into that crack before we chase it away, so we got used with it by now."

"More and more spirits like that have started to appear. Magnus has been working overtime trying to keep the dangerous ones from getting close to the town so he doesn't have time to chase away the smaller elementals from mingling with humans. We considered requesting a meeting with Camilla but things are under control for now and we don't want to take more of her time."

"Weird." Jadu managed to say before starting to cough. His throat felt weird and dry which made him scowl. Why was he so affected that small spirit?

Marlon gave him a sympathetic look. "Don't beat yourself up lad. You're trained to deal with desert spirits not forest ones. Spend more time here and you'll recognize their magic before they can charm you."

"Yeah." Gill remarked dryly. "Like we did last week when we started accusing each other of whispering in the middle of the night." Marlon huffed amused at that before taking a sip from his own mug.

"I'll speak with Camilla about this, maybe she can think of some solution without the need of a whole council meeting." Jadu picked a dry fish from the pile of food placed between them. "When did it start to happen?"

Marlon and Gill looked at each other for a second before Gill cleared his throat. "When spring came around and the new farmer moved in the valley."

"Farmer?" Jadu was confused. What did a farmer had to do with spirits and elementals acting weird?

"Oh, kid." Marlon sighted. "You have no idea what a long history that cursed farm has."

[sugar-and-spite]

made a lil house in minecraft

[veinsfullofstars]

holy stars I'm done

I'm done with prompts. they're all queued up and compiled. all of them. I did it. I made it before the month ended

I'm free

[rodolfoparras]

Don’t cry over spilled milk (or do)

Pairing: The Milkman x Male reader

Content warnings: 18+, anal fingering, Francis is one vocal fellow

Thinking about Francis Mosses who’s always been considered the perfect top, mostly because of his size- getting to bottom for the first time in his life.

Down on all four, with his ass in the air big fat cock uselessly hanging between his legs, and feeling himself flushing red from being in such a vulnerable position.

Besides the embarrassment brewing in his gut, he feels restless just laying like that , so used to being able to see what his partner is doing to him, now he can only rely on the feeling of your two thumbs prying his cheeks apart, and exposing the sensitive flesh to the cold air.

Goosebumps raise across his skin, a sharp breath escapes his lips and he can feel the impatience growing inside of him. “Come on come come on just hurry up!,” he hisses out, feeling even more vulnerable from the way your gaze seems to be burning into the pink flesh of his ass.

“Patience love” you say, hand firmly landing on his cheek, and as much as he’s embarrassed to say it, the action manages to silence him.

His dark eyes glare down at the bright white sheets, thumbs fiddling with the loose threads of it, trying to ignore how his face must be as red as the cheek you just slapped while you freely ogle at him.

“Anybody told you that you look pretty like this hm?” You say, thumbing curiously at his puckered rim, but not adding enough pressure to push your finger inside him.

Another wave of embarrassment washes over him, and he feel the urge to cuss you out with every curse word to exist in the English language but he knows but he knows by doing so you, you’ll further prolong this.

So he clears his throat, swallows down his pride before he mutters the word “No,”

A contended hum escapes your lips, your hot breath washing over his skin and this time he knows your face is just a hair away from his puckered rim. “Well you are,” you say, words as firm as your grip on him. “So so pretty”

And you’re so so close yet so far away.

He clears his throat again, swallows the last bit of pride in him before he utters the words “Please just please-“

“What is it sweetheart? What do you want hm?” You say, amusement clear in your voice. He can even feel the way the tip of your nose drags along his bottom half, doing everything and anything in your power to wind him up and he doesn’t know how much more he can take before he combust.

“Please just please fuck me!” He cries out, tears threatening to spill from his glassy eyes but all the air is suddenly punched out of his lungs when you slip the tip of your finger inside.

There’s a slight sting that comes with the stretch, body momentarily tensing as you carefully work your finger inside him”Oh! Oh oh fuck!”

“Francis? You okay?” You say, carefully massaging the pink flesh.

With each brush of your finger tip; the burning sensation dulls a bit and he feels himself relax back onto the sheets, a soft hum rolling off his tongue before he manages to properly answer you. “Good, it’s good,” he hums out, as he further relaxes into your touch.

Eventually the stinging sensation completely subsides and he starts feeling empty with only your fingertip inside. “More, please more,” he grunts out hips subconsciously buck up into your hand.

“Such a demanding little thing” you say to him as a chuckle escapes your lips but you don’t waste a second working your finger deeper inside of him til you’re buried knuckles deep, and tactically grazing the wall of nerves that sends sparks of pleasure through his body, specially down to his dick.”Mmph-God! Just- ah just like that”

This isn’t something he’s felt before, your touch feels ever so intoxicating especially when your calloused finger grazes the sensitive wall of nerves and before he realizes what he’s doing he finds himself begging for more, greedy as ever and drunk on pleasure.

It doesn’t take much before you fulfill his wish, pushing two fingers past his puckered rim, the stinging sensation briefly returning , as he gets used to the feeling of having two thick digits inside of him. “Come on sweetheart, you can take it yeah? I know you can” he hears you say, familiar word spilling past your lips and for a brief seconds he imagines the times he’d been the one to say it when he had someone under him.

Eager to prove himself, he starts fucking himself back onto your digits, something that starts off slow as he gets used to the stretch before he increases the pace. “Ugh fuck - fuck feels so so good yes yes yes!!”

By this point he doesn’t register when you work a third finger inside of him, only registering the fullness that comes with it and the way your hand slides between his legs, gently palming his ballsack

“Look at you love, haven’t even fucked you yet you’re already so close to cumming,” You say , puncturing every word with a thrust to his prostate while tugging at his hard and weeping dick.

Francis couldn’t care less about the fact that you’re taunting him, couldnt care less about how pathetic he looks like this, all he can care about is how every thrust - every stroke, has him inching closer to his orgasm.

“Please oh god please -“ He cries out, begs and pleads sounding something akin to a mantra, fingers practically digging holes into the mattress and the muscles in his thighs cramping up from how hard he’s fucking himself onto your hand.

It doesn’t take much before he feels his toes curl, pulse roaring in his ears as a wave of hot white pleasure washes over him.

“Ah ah God ‘m cumming ‘m cumming please-“ he cries out, feels himself spill all over the sheets and his thighs, body shaking as you continue to milk his cock.

“Stop- stop, please.” He finally slurs out, once there’s nothing but pathetic spurts of cum coming from his cock, hand blindly pushing you away from him before he finally slumps down onto the mattress.

Exhaustion creeps up his bones, eyelids feeling heavier than ever and all of a sudden he feels himself fading away in the dream land.

“Ah, ah ah,” he hears you say, the sound of your sharp voice snapping him awake. “We’re not done here,”

[xoxo-kses-hgs]

Francis Mosses NSFW A-Z ♡♡

I love him <33

Reader is gn but has female anatomy.

A-ftercare (What're they like after sex)♡

Very very tired. Everything he says afterwards is either slurred or murmured. Very cuddly tho. Will not let you go. Very sappy afterwards too; telling you he loves you and how pretty and perfect you were/are.

Takes him a second to do it but eventually gets up to get you some water while you go to the bathroom (always pee after sex!).

B-ody part (favorite body part on you & him)♡

On you, he loves your hands and lips. He holds your hand a lot during sex even if hes absolutely destroying you. And he loves your lips because he just likes kisses (and how they look wrapped around his dick). Between tits or ass tho, I think he'd prefer boobs (not pun intended). Even if their small, he looves them.

On him, he'd say his hands are his favorite. He likes the way the have so much effect on you. Like when he fingers you or grabs onto your hips or thighs or when he grabs your hand during sex.

C-um (anything to do w cum basically)♡

I think he'd prefer to cum on your stomach or ass. Though I do think he'd cum inside every once in a while. When you suck him off, he let's you take control of his dick tbh. If you want him to cum all over your face, then he will. If you want it in your mouth, then he will. If you want it on your boobs, he will. He just wants to please you fr.

D-irty secret ♡

I feel like he'd have plenty of them. A main one tho is that he's stolen one of your panties and jerked off with them before. He felt guilty afterwards so that was the only time he did that. The others are small enough for him to forget about it

E-xperience (his past experiences)

♡

I feel like he had NO BITCHES before you came (tee hee) along. He was a quiet kid and just focused on himself, maybe had a couple gfs and intimate moments but you're probably the first "real deal" to come into his life in terms of love.

F-avorite position ♡

He'd like the classics. Like missionary, cowgirl, doggie, etc etc. He'd probably like missionary and cowgirl most. Missionary because of the intimacy. Cowgirl bc sometimes he wants some but he's tired (and boobs).

G-oofy (how serious/unserious are they during sex)♡

He's pretty in the middle. Sometimes he likes to slowly fuck you while you two have a normal conversations so sometimes there's jokes thrown in there. But if it's rougher/faster, he's more serious.

H-air (what kind of hair they got down there)♡

I think he trims it. Keeps it tame. He doesn't shave it clean tho, unless you tell him to, then he might. For the rest of his body, he does have some hair but not a lot.

I-ntimacy ♡

Oh this boy is INTIMATE. The kind of mf that looks at sex like "love-making" instead of just "fuck". Loves praising and listening to what you say. You say harder and he goes harder, you say slower and he goes slower, etc etc. Most of the sex you two have will most likely be when he's tired/half awake so all the praise and such are slurred in such a beautiful way yk.

J-ack off (how often does he jack off)♡

Other than what I said in the dirty secret section, he doesn't really do it anymore. Why imagine you when he has you right there?

K-inks ♡

Praise - he likes receiving and giving praise. He likes talking you through it, telling you how good you feel and how much he loves you.

Marking - he'd like to leave hickeys on you, not for a way to "claim" you, but just because he wants to and he likes your reaction to it when I sucks on your sweet spots.

Overstimulation - he likes to BE overstimulated. Sometimes he wants to keep going but his body doesn't or he's too tired so he just begs you to just ride him til he cries or passes out.

Nipple play - he likes to pinch and massage your boobs a lot. Even if you're not having sex, his hand lives on your boob. Most of your foreplay is him sucking and nibbling on your nipple, pinching your other one while he fingers you.

L-ocation (their favorite locations to do it)♡

I feel like he'd only want to do it at home. He doesn't like public stuff. At home tho, he'd do it anywhere; on the dinner table, kitchen, bedroom, bathroom, living room, anywhere. He could do it in the car tho. Maybe if he gets too worked up after a date and your apartment is too far away.

M-otivation (what turns him on)♡

Tbh. Everything. Skin tight shirts, your sleepwear (no matter what it is), etc. He likes when you take care of him too, just loving him turns him on.

N-o (some turn offs)♡

I'm so sorry yall but I think he'd say no to bdsm. Like maybe SOME parts of it he can do but like hard-core bdsm is a no.

He wouldn't want to actually hurt you in any way. Spanking is ok if it's not full force but like actually causing you pain is a no.

And he wouldn't like shit with pee, poop, and vomit. Shits nasty.

O-ral ♡

Oh bro. He EATS. Man can eat you out for hourss if you let him. He was a little shit at eating pussy at first but with more practice, he gets better and better. Like I'm talking about EATING pussy. There's no kitten licking with him, he is in. There.

And he loves when you suck him off. He talks while you do but they're all murmurs so no one knows what he's saying. He fucks your face gently (unless you tell him you want it rough) everytime. Mutters praises all throughout it and let's out of raspy moan when he cums.

P-ace ♡

Unless he's dead tired, he goes at whatever pace you want. When he's dead tired he wants to go slow and sensual. But if he had energy, he'll go at whatever pace you want him to go at. He starts off slow but if you tell him to go harder and harder he will beat that pussy numb.

Q-uickie (opinions on quickies)♡

I think he'd want to take his time with you so quickies are eh to him. If you seriously cannot wait but you can't leave wherever you are for too long, he'll take you somewhere private to eat you out till you're satisfied (or suck him off until he's satisfied).

He will leave an event for the day to have sex with you tho. If it gets that bad.

R-isk♡

To keep it short, he'd be down for experimenting as long as it's not in his "no" list.

S-tamina ♡

Again, depends on you. If you wanna ride him till the sun comes up, he'll thug it out for you. He likes overstimulation anyway. But tbh he rlly only goes for 2 rounds until you have to take over.

T-toys (toys they own)♡

I don't think he has any toys for himself. And he wouldn't really care if you had your own toys. He's fucked you with your toys before; like a vibrator up to your clit while he fucks you or a dildo in you while he sucks on your clit.

U-nfair (do they tease? And how often)♡

He doesn't really edge or tease you, but when he does, it's on accident. Sometimes he pulls out to cum on your stomach and accidently edges you. He doesn't mind when you do it to him. Feels good.

V-olume (how loud are they during sex)♡

Loud asf. Like I said, he talks during it, like murmuring and slurring his words. He's a moaner and whimperer too. Occasionally groaning but not really.

He LOVES when you're loud tho. He encourages it actually. Turns him on more.

W-ild card ♡

To add onto "volume", he talks dirty so much, even if it's under his breath. Like omfg the filth that comes out of his mouth is so unexpected.

Also, the amount of times you two were getting rough with it and he got that phone call (ykwim), he doesn't stop. He slows down a bit but just continues while you struggle to not blow you're cover.

X-ray (what's in those pants)♡

He's pretty average. Long, kinda thin, a vein on the top of his shaft from the base to the middle of it. He's about 6-7 inches, and he knows how to use it. Tbh I can't decide whether he's circumcised or not so you can personally decide that.

Y-earning (how high/low is his sex drive)♡

Surprisingly high. He's down to fuck whenever. Unless he's literally about to knock out cold. But if he's awake then so is his dick. He barley asks for sex tho, he wants YOU to initiate it. He just gives hints.

Z-zz (how fast he goes to sleep)♡

Like I said before, he's literally so tired afterwards. Once he makes sure you're okay and comfy, he snuggles close to you and sleeps.

I love him your honor.

[twisted-wonderland-but-gayer]

Could I request part two of "A Well Deserved Grudge" for the remaining OB guys?

Thank you for all you hard work Moss!

A Well Deserved Grudge Pt.2

You hate them after their overblot. Part one.

Characters: Leona, Azul, Idia, Grim

Content Info: Gn! Yuu. Yuu is fucking mean in this. A lot of angst. Azul and Idia self deprecated a lot. Mostly Yuu breaking down and snapping tbh. Grim Hate

Leona

“Wow look at who it is. The king himself. Tell me, what did I do to deserve the honor of being in his majesty's presence?”

Yuu locked eyes with Leona in the hospital mirror, no doubt out of bed against doctors orders. Their damaged face matched their voice that dripped the venom of sarcasm. They were smug, overwhelmingly smug with a slight smirk to match their upturned brows.

“Well…? I'm waiting.” There's no fear in their demeanor at all. There never has been. Even when there should be. Yuu was brave, he'll give them that. They had a right to be angry.

Leona closed his eyes, taking a breath, then opened them again. “I came here to apologize.” He kept it brief. The hatred in their eyes told him that them didn't want him here more than necessary. Not like he'd blame Yuu.

“Oh? But what for your Majesty?” By now Yuu turned around, and Leona could truly see the extent of the damage done to them. Cracks permeated their face, reaching from their cheek to across their nose along with the corners of their eyes. The small smirk on their dry lips twitched for a second and he could see a few more cracks on them that bled. It was like a porcelain doll knocked off its stand

“I mean…” They took a step forward, as if to circle him, maintaining eye contact the whole time. The thin hospital gown swayed with them as they continued. Odd squelches and snaps sounded with each step from damaged feet that shouldn't be stood on.

“You sure showed them, huh? Everyone will know how tough you are now when they hear the tale of how you… valiantly fought and won against a magicless human that dared to threaten your throne…” They continued to circle him for a bit before pausing.

Their smug expression dropped to a cruel glare, turning to fully face him. More pops and snaps sounded from them. Parts of their arms look warped, as if their flesh was made of plastic. Yet the cracks along their arms were nowhere near as clean as the ones on their face, crowded together in craters and showing raw flesh in between them.

There was no way to respond to this in a way that would smooth things over. There was no way to smooth things over. He debates between holding his tongue or speaking, brilliant mind now failing him. He knows for sure that Yuu deserves to curse him out and that they probably need it for their mental health.

“I am here to ensure that you're fully cared for. I arranged for some of the top doctors to visit you and ensure your recovery outside of the hospital as well.” There is no fully recovering from this. They both know it.

Yuu's expression becomes more neutral, then they seem almost impressed. “Wow. How utterly magnanimous of you, your majesty. Why I'm practically kneeling at your feet and singing your praises… At least I would but uh, ah I can't seem to fully bend my knees, hmmm?” Their leering only seemed to get more and more intense.

“Thank you for your kindness, your majesty. I finally learned my place now. I will never forget our first meeting where you threatened to take a tooth from me after a most egregious offense I committed to you. How awful of me to not be able to see everything at once while adjusting to a new environment. I apologize for my shortsightedness. This was a most appropriate response…” Their hospital gown stretched out with their arms, showing off their injuries

A mock pout they wore turned sour. They bitterly looked to the side, theatrics starting to fail. “Well, you did indeed take a few…” Yuu pulled the corner of their mouth, causing more cracks to form along the corners. He could see the raw, irritated gums that once held their molars.

“I'm glad you got what you wanted. Do you feel powerful now? Clap for yourself, I mean really, you do deserve it, I'll also give a round of applause as well…” Their damaged hand made a few slow, sarcastic slaps together that sounded like sandpaper.

“I do wonder… What would the news look like if they heard about this? ‘Beloved Prince Protects NRC From Human!’ or ‘NRC Now Safe From Magicless Maniac!’”

Their eyes searched his, staring deep into his soul. He couldn't tell what they found within them, but it was clear they saw something. “Oh relax, I won't tell. I don't have autonomy here remember? I don't exist, so why would they listen? Not that anyone would have believed me anyways...” The Prefect looked to the side, trailing off.

“...Okay I'm done with this, just get the hell out of here. You won, okay? I'm a weak little herbivore. I don't want to see you ever again. Just leave me alone.” They were disgusted as they backed away from him, watching him the whole time. Leona saw how Yuu carefully shifted their weight, trying not to wince from the pain felt by moving.

He didn't say anything. Yuu didn't want him to speak. They sat down on the bed and stared at him until he turned to leave. It was when he closed the door he heard sobs.

Azul

He was shaking. Shaking as he stood in front of the door of the doctor's office. No matter how much he tried to steel his mind, he couldn't relax. He felt sick. His hand quivered. He didn't have the strength to open the door.

He had to eventually…

A deep breath, and he pushed it open, holding back the urge to throw up from anxiety. From the hospital bed, he didn't fail to notice how Yuu’s expression dropped the second he opened the door.

“Oh. It's you.” The Prefect tried to sit up, just to let out a gag and choke for a second, laying back down. How many ribs did he break when he grabbed them? How much did it hurt?

“Great to see you again.” They snarked, wrinkling their nose in repulsion before relaxing their face again. “So? What's up? Here to visit a friend?”

Azul was silent, watching as Yuu stared straight up at the motivational posters on the ceiling as they wheezed with every breath, not wanting to look at him. They were clearly expecting a response. Now where was it?

“I- erm. Prefect– I mean Yuu—”

“Prefect is perfect.” Yuu spat.

“Ah yes… Prefect…” Azul found his footing. “I am…” He had a script for this. He had a script for this…

“I'm sorry–” he tried not to cry. He tried not to be that stupid crybaby, but he was. He's just a pathetic, stupid, ugly crybaby no matter how hard he pretends not to be. Stupid stupid fat fat stupid.

“Oh my god I don't want to hear your pathetic blubbering. If you're gonna do that, get the hell out of here. I don't want to deal with this shit.” Yuu was exasperated, damn near shaking.

“Choking on sobs while I'm choking just to breathe, are you fucking serious?” He was snotty trying hard to fight against the tears, they were right, they were right—

“Let's ‘make a deal’: take whatever you want, just get the hell out of my life, Azul. Don't talk to me, don't even look at me. Take Ramshackle, I don't care, not like I can go up the stairs to my room now anyways. You don’t even need to handle any medical shit I have. You won.” Yuu was crying now too, shaking in their bed.

“Got it? Just fucking go. And be sure to share my sentiments with Jade and Floyd as well. Spell it out for them: I hate them. I hate all of you. You're all so pathetic, you're not even worthy of being considered shit on this earth. I don't want you here.”

That was all Azul needed to leave. They hate him. You hate him. He feels sick. Filthy. He deserves it. He deserves it. He's just a pathetic little octobaby. It's all he will be.

Idia

Idia was beyond anxious. He was petrified to leave his room and see what he had done. Idia knew he couldn't hide forever. He had to confront Yuu and own up to everything he did eventually. He doesn't want to do this. Why can't he just hide away.

Just breathe. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale… Exhale…

Phew… here he goes—

The second he stepped up to that door he could hear it. Faint sobbing. Idia’s feet were cold once again as he stood there.

Should he wait? Should he just go in?

C'mon c'mon c'mon— What does he do here?!

… He can't do this. He can't. He's just going back to his room and will send a bunch of stuff their way with a lengthy, well-thought out written apology…

It won't work. He knows it won't.

Dammit! His parents and Ortho won't let him avoid this forever…

Another breath. He opens the door. He feels he's going to vomit.

Yuu jumps a bit startled. They blink as if to see if this is real, then stare at him with contempt. “... What do you want?” Their leer has Idia damn near shaking. It was even more unnerving with the darkened veins across their face.

“I- I erm– I came to um… ahem. O-Our doctors at STYX will continue to work with you and monitor your condition. We… We're sure with just a few tests we can get you back in p-perfect condition.” His eyes scanned the various burns and deep cuts along their body, most of which were covered in bandages.

“... Are you serious?” Yuu’ voice dropped dangerously low.

“U-um… Yes?”

“No, I mean are you fucking serious?” Yuu snarls at Idia, teeth gritted and eyes wide. “You seriously think I want to be around you sons of bitches any longer after everything that happened?! After you destroyed my dorm?! Took my friends?! Af… After you did this to me?!”

Yuu breathes heavily in and out. “Are you out of your goddamn mind?!”

“E-eep!” Idia yelped, trying to make himself seem small. He wants to go to his room he wants to go— They're crying now, they're crying!!!–

"Unless it's a way home I'm not interested! I thought…” a sniffle, followed by a bitter laugh, “I thought the ‘whole ending up in a different world’ thing was supposed to be fun! Was supposed to be cool! I was… I was supposed to go out and explore and make friends and learn all kinds of magical things about how this whole world works and all that it has been for me is hell!”

They're sobbing into their hands. “I'm no one! I have to do all of this on my own and I have no identity, no nothing! I always have to fix everyone else's messes! I have to learn everything with no help! I'm always left behind, I don't have anyone, I can't… I can't do this anymore…”

They look at Idia, puffy eyes filled with so much anger. “Why couldn't you have just kill me? Why? It would have been the one good thing you've ever done. Now I have to continue living like this! Doing this stupid job! Having to check on everyone— and no doubt when I'm able to walk again Crowley is going to make me check on you!”

Idia was whimpering, backing towards the door he came in from. He knew this was a bad idea. He should have just stayed in his room…

“I hate you! I hate everyone! Nobody here cares about me, no one here ever checks on me, I have to babysit all the time, I never get to rest! I can't rely on anyone– and I have no one.” Idia was shaking, and just like a shark to a drop of blood, Yuu smelt his fear was was going in for the kill.

They're leaning in as far as they can, holding the side of the hospital bed. “What are you cowering over? What, do I scare you that bad? Shouldn't I be the one afraid of you?!”

Yuu is now glaring, the fire inside them turning icy. “You are so pathetic, Idia. I hate you. Hate. You. Just go.”

He was relieved to finally get out of there. Now he can shut himself away and take care of anything he has to from a distance, behind a screen. Away from everyone.

Grim

Something was off.

Yuu wasn't themselves. They haven't been themselves since the whole STYX situation. The second they made it back to campus they didn't seem to be as tearful or relieved as everyone was. They were stiff in the group embrace. It was exhaustion. It had to be. The adrenaline had worn off and they could finally relax.

It didn't explain how Yuu continued to be so distant for the next week. They would always round him up and force him to at least try to study so he could be a great mage, how Yuu would get on his case about every single little thing. His chores, the food budget, their jobs.

It was bliss. Yuu was less strict and he could finally do whatever he wanted. No more holding him back, no more lectures, he was free. Surely the prefect as his henchman learned their place. But then it started to worry him.

Yuu didn't pay attention to him. They no longer helped him with anything. They didn't respond to any of his usual quips. They left whenever he started to instigate something. Yuu just… didn't back him up anymore.

Ace and Deuce noticed it too but when they asked Yuu about it, Yuu just shrugged it off. Seriously, what gives?! He shouldn't be treated like this!

It all came out in homeroom. As one student, he and his henchman were partners per usual. Yuu was careful. They handled everything with precision and care per usual— Proper safety precautions, careful measurements (their arm seemed to shake a bit more, that hasn't happened in the past), perfect stirs.

And, per usual, Grim barely did anything. Aside from messing everything up.

Crash!

Everyone stared at the broken vial on the floor, with Grim right above it. There was tension as Crewel turned to see the damage, looking to see who to punish before his head turned to Grim. “I-It was Yuu! They did it!!” He pointed his stubby paws at them not noticing how their eye seemed to twitch when he did so.

“Don't lie Grim, Yuu didn't do it, you're just blaming them.” a random student came to their defense, leaving Grim high and dry.

“I see. Well then. Grim will have detention after class, and as his caretaker, you will have to join him, Yuu. You need to learn to keep your partner on a tighter leash.”

Yuu seemed to deflate just a bit. “... Understood.” Then they turned away from him as usual. Not even a lecture.

“Geez Yuu, why didn't you pay attention to me? It wouldn't have fallen over if you'd have done your job.”

It looked like Crewel was about to step in to lecture him. But Yuu’s voice cut in front of his, voice cold. “Because I expected you to be able to do basic tasks without coddling after all this time… Besides, you aren't worth it.”

“Wh- What do you mean Yuu?”

“I hate you.” You could hear a pin drop in that room from how loud the silence was. Grim just stared. “Hah?” He then glared at them. “Don't joke like that its not that serious.”

Yuu just shrugged. “Hey! At least answer me!!”

“I meant it, Grim.”

“This isn't funny Yuu.”

“I am not joking.”The Prefect crossed their arms and stared down at him, gaze cold.

“Recently I had an epiphany, a realization more like.” Yuu was speaking in a clinical tone. In this moment they were a researcher sharing their findings in a factual manner.

“I can't remember a clear moment where you have done anything meaningful for me since we first met a year ago. It has just been cleaning up your messes and catering to your selfish whims one after the other. I think what finally made me realize, was this.”

Yuu pulled down the sleeve to their uniform to show off the deep cuts Grim left in them after his freakout. They were jagged and deep and would no doubt leave an ugly scar. Whispers broke out from the crowd, murmurs about the dire beast circulated.

“I struggle to close my hand quite often now,” To demonstrate, they tried to flex their hand. Their fingers didn't extend all the way. Their face contorted into pain as they winced, hand shaking Grim swallowed, guilt washing over him as he tried to look smaller. “It's not like I can get occupational therapy so easily here, so I have to live with this for now.”

They now leaned down to him. Grim's widened and Yuus face seemed to grow more and more snarky, more cruel. “None of this would have happened if you just listened. How many times have I warned you not to consume those waste gems?” Yuu then leaned away, hand under their chin as they continue.

“Anyways, I then thought some more about all the effort I put in just for it not to be reciprocated. This relationship we have is quite one sided. It's more like 90:10 on a good day… and since then, I started to hate you, and everything about you…”

“I am a brilliant mind, you realize that? It's just an objective fact. I can't believe it took me this long to realize just how pathetic you are. After all, I have picked up an otherworldly language and culture and became near the top of my classes with the effort I have put in. I have a better understanding of magic as a magicless student than you.”

The crowd just watched as Yuu paced a bit, sorting out all of their thoughts for all to see. It was different seeing them like this, bit the students seemed to eat it up, taking their side.

“You don't contribute anything to those around you. You don't even contribute anything meaningful to a basic conversation aside from complaining about how tired and hungry you are. You cannot even sit down and review simplified notes I made specially for you.” Grim was shrinking with each word spoken, it felt as though he was being stabbed a thousand times over. It was a betrayal that he should have expected of he had any self awareness.

“You're selfish. You always take from others and don't have any endearing traits to make up for it. I have gone days without meals because you couldn't fathom that I need to eat too. You fail to recognize others as people and use them as scapegoats. The only reason you're passing your classes is because I get straight As... Thank you for turning them into Cs by the way.”

They didn’t seem to care how he felt. They didn't feel bad. How could they? “Surely by now you should be able to take care of yourself, oh great mage? You always told me how overbearing I was. Thankfully, I have good news.” He had a feeling it wouldn't be good news…

“Crowley finally got around to making our grades separate from now on, so you can't rely on me anymore. Which is why I have been collecting and saving all of my graded assignments.” Oh no. That was bad news. It was good for Yuu, yes, but now he's screwed. I mean he doesn't deserve this right? It's not his fault this school is so hard! How is he supposed to pass now?!

“You're welcome. You got what you wanted. You're your own mage from now on. No need for a lowly human to drag you down.” This lowly human was the only reason he got this far.

"I'm sure I could find other students in my classes that will help me with any magic barriers— you are barely able to do it anyways. It doesn't matter if you get held back to me anymore, I can graduate without you. I no longer have to rely on you to exist here, so I can finally say it: I hate you.”

The class seemed shocked, asking each other if Grim really was that awful. Grim was blubbering, panicking. A firm smack of a ruler hitting the inside of a hand interrupted it all. “That's enough, Yuu! Bad dog!” Crewel tapped the ruler in his palm again.

“My apologies professor, I am done. I do hope my potion is up to your standards, seems like Grim hasn't started on his.” They set a delicate bottle on his desk, awaiting review.

He was panicked now. Wait. Fuck. He hasn't been helping. It was Yuus potion! The direbeast merely looked over to Yuu who cleaned up their workstation, not even sparing a glance to him until the very end. They looked over once more at Grim through their goggles.

“I do hope you remember your detention. In any case I am done here, I am going to go help other groups professor.” Just like that, they left him, Grim could only watch as the group they joined adopted them instantly, asking them if they were alright and offering their magic if they needed it. It was no suprise most student liked them. They were always kind. The only looks he got back were from other students that seemed to judge him.

[zorosangell]

I LOVE INN!!! I love devoted pathetic men! I need to see them during the time skip tho! What if during the two year training arc (idk who or what she trains under, you can make that up) she happens to stop by the same island zoro and mihawk where stopping by on their way back to Gloom island. It’s been well over a year since they’ve seen each other, and it’s been pure torture for them both (and also the inconvenience of zoro relearning how to properly shine his own swords and fold his laundry the special way he likes it). I’d like to see your take on this!

⛥ﾟ・。 bento

synopsis: part two of inn -- you and zoro have a heartfelt reunion on the sabaody archipelago... with the help of a kindly fisherman.

cw: fluffy fluff, comfort, zoro is DOWN BAD for reader, reader's a cutie, fools pining pretty much.

a/n: i love writing zoro like this

"Hey, gramps," Zoro started, yanking open the flap and entering Isamu's Fresh Fish tent, his eye snapping over to the old man hunched in the corner. "I'm lookin' to do some fishing."

Confused, Old Man Isamu halted his movement, looking up from his basket of lures to find the infamous, three-sword wielding pirate hunter.

Roronoa Zoro.

Of course, being a lonely old man who lived on the outskirts of Sabaody Archipelago, he had no idea who he was.

I mean, why would he need to know?

But even still, he couldn't help the shiver that rolled down his spine at the sight of the moss-head's scowl, its intensity sending a slight pang of fear through the man's old heart.

"No offense, young man, but I wouldn't exactly peg you as the fishing type..."

Zoro sighed, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Normally, you'd be right... I'm supposed to be meeting some friends on this island, but they haven't made it yet, so I'm bored out of my skull."

Scratching the side of his face, he glanced out to sea, a certain sense of homesickness plaguing his chest.

"I used to have someone to do this for me... but she's not around right now. So I need something to keep me entertained while I wait."

It felt odd offering to do the fishing himself, as he could barely even remember the last time he picked up a fishing rod.

But the feeling was nothing new, as for the last two years the swordsman had been forced to take up the tasks that you had been so insistent on doing for him.

Fishing... Laundry... Shining his swords...

Even dressing his wounds, which, although Perona did for him, still didn't feel the same as when you did it.

It wasn't long before he realized how much he took you for granted, and how subpar his domestic skills were in comparison to yours.

He bristled, annoyed with the aching throb of his heart.

God, he felt pathetic...

A measly two years apart, and all of a sudden he was a ship without a rudder.

"So, you think you can help me out or not?" he asked, snapping himself out of his thoughts.

"Sure. I'll finish getting everything we need ready and then meet you on my boat right over there," Isamu nodded with a warm smile, standing to his full height and pointing toward a small fishing boat moored to the shore. "We'll have to wait a moment, though. A young woman is supposed to be joining me."

Zoro's brow raised, intrigued.

"Young woman?" he asked, expecting some elaboration.

"Why yes! She's been fishing with me for the past two days and is just such a sweetheart!" the old man gushed. "She went into town to go grab us some lunch before we left. Said something about picking up some polishing equipment, too."

That caught the swordsman's attention.

"Polishing equipment?"

"Yeah, for swords," Isamu nodded, leaning in a little closer to the swordsman and lowering his voice. "Between you and me... I think her boyfriend's a pirate. I always catch her lookin' out at the sea, like she's waitin' for something."

He gave Zoro a pat on the back with a small chuckle, a little sorry.

"It's a shame. If I hadn't known, I would've introduced you two. Y'look like her type."

Intrigued, Zoro looked down at himself, fighting off the thunder in his chest.

'Could it be...?'

"What'd she look like?" Zoro asked, straight to the point. "About this tall? (h/l), (h/c) hair? (s/c) skin? Nice (e/c) eyes? Pretty smile?"

Quickly, he shoved his hand into his robe, hurriedly rummaging around until his fingers locked on a piece of crumbled paper.

"Like this?" he asked, hopefully, pulling out your wanted poster and holding it up for the old man to see.

He'd managed to get his hands on it when he joined Mihawk on a grocery run and found it posted up on a fruit stall.

When no one was looking, he shoved it in his pocket, and kept it with him ever since.

Sure, it was a little stalker-ish, but when it came to you he didn't really care.

"Yes! That's her!" Isamu nodded, turning to the man. "She said she's been waiting for some friends to show, too!"

Instantly, the pieces clicked, the old man suddenly realizing your relationship with the swordsman.

He was he thing you were looking out to sea for.

With a knowing smirk, he gave Zoro a slight nudge, amused.

"Oh, ho ho! You must be the fella she's been searchin' for..." he grinned, almost as a congratulations. "You're a lucky guy! She reminds me of my Emi."

With a faint roll of his eyes, Zoro sighed, trying to muffle the burn of his cheeks by turning away.

That is... until a familiar voice cut through the air.

"Hey, watch it, asshole! That bento's for the old man!" you spat, the sound of a scuffle occurring in a nearby alleyway.

'(y/n)!'

An embarrassing amount of excitement soared through his chest, a certain glimmer returning to his eye at the sound of your voice.

Springing into action, he sprinted toward the noise, quickly drawing his sword.

Whoever was on the other side of the altercation wasn't going to be standing by the end of it.

"Wait, young man!"

But Isamu was too late, as the swordsman was already at the mouth of the alley.

Bring his feet to a screeching halt, Zoro lowered himself into an offensive stance, taking a gauge of the situation as he prepped his attack.

You were standing off with a large man, who was about five times your size, huge with muscles and practically cracked out on testosterone.

An opponent like him would've sent you running for the hills two years ago.

But you stared him down with conviction, a small smirk quirking on your lips.

And without warning, you broke into a sprint, charging the man head on.

You had to calculate this just right, or you were going to get squashed like a bug.

Zoro watched with surprise as you used your running start to slide between the thug's legs, nimbly scaling his body like a tree and swirling yourself around to pull him off balance.

"The hell?!"

He tried to grab at you, but your movements were too quick and it wasn't long before you were sat right on his shoulders, your thighs locking tightly around his neck.

"Gimme back the damn bento, you bastard!"

Effortlessly, you threw around your body weight, flipping both of you over and slamming his head into the ground, creating a small crater.

But you weren't done.

With a soft grunt, and a small jerk of your legs, you twisted his neck with a sickening crack—the action sending a warm tingle through Zoro's stomach.

He'd be a liar if he said he didn't find your demonstration incredibly hot.

You pulled yourself up off the ground with a chuckle, using your foot to poke the man, who was down for the count, before snatching the lunchbox back from his grasp.

"Have a nice nap," you wished, cheekily, pulling down your eyelid and sticking out your tongue.

But, when you turned your attention to the alley's exit, your eyes landed on a certain green-haired swordsman—the star of a multitude of different daydreams you'd enjoyed throughout your two years apart.

Time seemed to slow down as your eyes met, him having been staring at you since he entered the alley.

'Gods...'

He was huge, way more muscular than what he once was, and now donned a scar on his left eye, which was permanently shut.

His chest was exposed in his robe, showing off his big pecs, and his hair was still just as green and unruly as you remembered.

Lighting up like the world's brightest Christmas tree, you let out a loud, dramatic gasp, dropping the lunchbox in shock.

"Zoro!" you cheesed, completely forgetting about the bento as you rushed toward him.

"(y/n)! You made it!" Zoro broke into a wide grin, utterly relieved to see you were okay.

Launching yourself into his arms, you tackled him to the ground, pulling him into you as he let out a few laughs at your enthusiasm.

"Ah! Look at you! Those muscles! That hair! You look great! I missed you!" you squealed, ecstatic to see your favorite guy in the flesh.

Though, in your excitement, you had failed to realize you were suffocating the swordsman with your breasts.

"Mished you, twoo!" he nodded, muffled, frantically patting your back. "But yer killin' me!"

Finally noticing, you quickly pulled back, flashing him a sheepish smile.

Relieved, he took in an aggressive gasp, before turning to you with his grin once again.

"That was a new special move, huh? I've never seen you do something like that before!" he asked, eagerly.

"You noticed, eh?" you raised a brow. "Yeah, it's a maneuver my master taught me back on Kibi, a martial arts island."

A proud smirk rose to your lips, having waited to tell him of your success for so long.

"It was hard work... and I got knocked on my ass a bunch... but the monks at my temple managed to beat some kung fu techniques into me," you cheesed, cheekily. "I might not be on par with you yet... but it's only a matter of time."

His eyes found yours, and the way you were looking at him made his chest roar.

You were making it a bit hard for him to focus.

He was already holding himself back on a thread of sanity, and now he had to deal with the fact that you looked like a goddess in human form, and smelled of cocoa butter and vanilla.

Your curves were curvier, your hips were dippier, and you now had an unspoken confidence that could bring any man to his knees.

Literally and figuratively.

You had him like a hook on a line, only he didn't want to be set free.

You found his eyes, slightly confused, as his expression morphed into one you'd never seen.

"I. Love. You." he stated, firm and breathless.

Your eyes shot wide, a sharp tinge of red burning onto your cheeks.

The floodgates were opened.

There was no going back.

Without a moment's hesitation, he pressed his lips against yours, hard, unloading well over two years worth of pining.

You sank into it almost immediately, matching his fervor as you rested your hands on his chest, grabbing him by this robe and pulling him even closer.

The two of you moved together in perfect sync, fitting like puzzle pieces, as you kept up with his rhythm.

He grasped you by the small of your back, pressing you further into him and giving your hips a little squeeze, earning a quiet squeak.

Close wasn't close enough.

He wanted you even closer than that.

He wanted you so much, every part of him in contact with you was on fire.

But, alas, you two were human, and air would need eventually.

The two of you separated with a gasp, cheeks flushed and foreheads resting on each other.

"I don't think you have any idea how long I've been waiting to do that," he smirked, catching his breath.

You smiled, sliding your hands up from his chest to his shoulders.

"I think I do," you confessed, looking up at him with those sparkling, (e/c) eyes of yours.

'Fuuuuuuck...'

He leaned in closer, about to say something else when, of course, he was interrupted.

"Hate to break up a touchin' moment, kids..." Old Man Isamu chimed with a knowing smirk, the two of you snapping your heads up with surprise. "But might I suggest the inn across the street?"

You both separated, for real this time, and stood up, you straightening out the wrinkles in your clothes as you glanced at the building.

Without warning, Zoro scooped you up and tossed you over his shoulder, forcing you to yelp in surprise as he turned around to walk across the street.

"Zoro!"

"Thanks, old man!" Zoro waved with his free-hand, unable to fight the pep in his step as his grip tightened around your thighs.

He cracked a smile, glancing at you on his shoulder with an expression Isamu could only attribute to a man in love.

"Your bento's somewhere over there, sir!" you called, limp, and horribly embarrassed as your swordsman dragged you away. "I'm so sorry!"

"Don't worry, dear!" Isamu assured, waving back. "You kids be safe!"

It made his day to see two young people so utterly smitten with each other, as that seemed to be slowly becoming a rarity.

You both reminded him so much of how he and Emi used to be...

Even still, he couldn't help but dreamily sigh, watching as you two entered the inn, playfully bickering like an old, married couple.

'Ah, young love...'

[tetzoro]

BLOOM — ༉‧₊˚.

ft. zoro roronoa !

꒰ SYNOPSIS ꒱ : after the events of wano take place, you and zoro find yourselves having a slow morning filled with thoughts of your future. (there’s no spoilers dw i just wanted to use the setting lol)

꒰ CONTENTS ꒱ : fluff ; zoro being vulnerable and in love — WC : 1.3k

꒰ NOTES ꒱ : zoro in wano forever altered my brain chemistry so here is a silly lil blurb from my drafts ! enjoy ! dividers by @/cafekitsune ᰔ

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ! (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ᰔ*.ﾟ

in the early morning where the flower capital begins to bloom and the sounds of the bustling street fill with people eager for another day of celebration start to take root, zoro wakes up next to you. in the distance, the faint scent of cherry blossoms begins to fill his nose as the breeze glides through the windows, sending a shiver down his body.

“cm’here.” zoro slurs, his arm easily hooks around your waist, other hand grabbing a hold of your plush thigh as he lifts you over to him. your eyes flutter open for a moment and zoro swears he can see the rising sun in them. but it was a false start — your eyes shutting once again as you nestle yourself against his chest.

“too early.” you complain, the world only just waking up as light starts to lazily spill through the windows and into the room, pouring over you in an angelic glow.

“mhm.” he agrees, running his knuckles along your exposed back, eliciting chills in its wake. he couldn’t help but bask in the warmth of your nature, wanting more than anything to tuck you into his chest and keep you there for safekeeping. “good morning to you too.”

“good morning.” you let the words tumble from your lips after breathing out a soft chuckle. your chin moves, resting upon his chest as you finally look at him.

his breath hitches as he realizes he’ll never get over how pretty you are — sleepy eyes still shining bright even though they fight to stay open, dried up drool endearingly taking residence in the corners of your mouth, hair in slight disarray after a sleep filled with tossing and turning, no doubt already tangled from the activities from the night before. he could never get enough.

zoro leans in and presses his lips against yours, a sweet kiss that you easily melt into like burning wax. your hands crawl up to cradle his cheek ever so softly — packed with all the care in the world it almost makes his heart skip a steady beat.

a part of him wonders if this is what his life will look like after luffy becomes king of the pirates and he himself finally becomes the greatest swordsman in the world.

would he get to lazily wake up with you in his arms every morning — languidly kissing each other until he’s positively drunk off listening to your little sounds of pleasure as they slip out of your mouth and into his? or slowly waking up together by showering the other with affection safely behind closed doors, the privacy allowing all of his walls to fall down around you, where you tenderly move past the vanquished rubble.

these little things have steadily grown on him like the moss that the shitty cook claims grows from his head and he honestly couldn’t imagine not having in his future. there have been too many close calls during the time you’ve known each other and the thought of not being able to love you for the rest of his days sends a spike deep into his core, threatening to take his breath away.

“sleep okay?” you ask, pulling apart from him in favor of kissing his cheek, nuzzling into the side of his face. a small comfort that reels his wandering mind back to you, grounding him back into the present.

“yeah, always.” he gives you a little squeeze, a silent message that he only sleeps so well because you’re here beside him. “you?”

“always.” you parrot back. a smile breaks along your face, cracking through like the sun when it first rises for the day. a shimmering glint before it consumes everything it touches.

zoro’s dumbfounded for a moment, blinded by the force of nature that unfolds before his very eye.

“although,” he starts to tease, a dastardly little smirk dangling on his face. “you’re a damn blanket hog, you were moving around so much i thought you were going to fall off the bed.”

“what!” your eyes widen in shock. zoro humorously watched as the gears in your brain started to speed up at the accusation, harmless irritation puffing steam out of your ears. “no i’m not! you’re just making that up.”

“no.” zoro chuckles, “that’s why i had to pull you onto me. was tired of you being so damn far away.”

“aww, you missed me?” now it’s your turn to tease, poking his cheek with that sweet little grin on your face. so much for riling you up.

“just wanted to catch you before you rolled off the bed.” he grumbles.

“oh really?” you squint at him, not entirely convinced that his intentions were so heroic. “so if i just—“

you go to move off of him, but he’s quicker, flipping you so you’re sprawled under him over the wrinkled sheets. zoro’s palms land by either side of your head, effectively caging you in. even though it was still early, zoro never missed a step.

wordlessly, he shifts onto his elbows, lowering himself down on you until your back sinks into the mattress, tucking you in just like one of the many petals you press into your books. you’re his own version of that he thinks, the pretty flower that got trapped between the harsh lines that write up his pages, sealed with a heavy exterior that you had no problem prying open with loving hands.

“nuh uh, not a chance.” he leans down and kisses you, letting out a soft groan as your sweet hands slide over his bare shoulders and roam along his back.

“knew it.” you whisper against his lips with a giggle. “just admit it, won’t you?”

“just shut up and keep kissing me.” his biting words don’t match the endearing tone in his voice; a bark reduced to a whimper.

zoro grabs your chin, using it as leverage to keep your mouth on his, not letting you get another word out as you spiral into your desires, kissing him like it’s the only thing you were meant to do. now and forever.

after a few moments, he pulls back panting slightly and rests his forehead against yours in an attempt to regain his dizzying thoughts.

“do you ever wonder what’s next?” zoro asks, pulling his head up a little. the question slipping out of his mouth before he had a chance to reel it back in.

“like where we are headed next?” you tilt your head. “wherever the tide takes us, i suppose.”

“i meant you and me.” zoro can feel his face burn with vulnerability, embarrassment licking at his cheeks until they’re a pretty pink. he shifts a bit at the intensity so he can lay on his side, his arm coming up behind your head.

“oh!” your face melts into a smile as you turn toward him and suddenly he doesn’t feel so silly. “i do think about it, actually.”

“yeah?”

“yeah.” you nod, your finger trailing along his bicep, the corded muscles intertwining together such as your fates. “i don’t know what we’ll be doing but all i want is for us to do it together.”

your eyes met his gaze, luring him in as the depths of your devotion pools in your eyes. an expression he was no doubt returning.

together. what a nice word, one that holds so much value to him and eases the tension in his shoulders like the waves on the shore reclaim the sand. for those two years you were apart, during the dead of night when his mind would wander after a grueling day of training, his thoughts would land on you.

thoughts filled with nothing but adoration that soon turned into a steady love once you reunited, side by side once again.

a love that could only be expressed as how the ocean loves the shore. gentle waves lapping against the sand, forever fated to find your way back to each other one way or another whether it be a slow crawl or a violent reunion, destiny had made its decision.

“me too.” he squeezes you, pressing a chaste kiss along your hairline. “together.”

thank you so much for reading ᰔ

[comicallylargemango]

🥭 : teeheeheehee author here, I've been having major Francis brainrot so now I gotta show the world :3 (I can now proudly call myself one of the first few people to write a Francis X reader)

Genre: Fluff

Pairing: Francis Mosses/Milkman x DDD! Gen! Reader

Other: some swearing, shit talking, mentions of injuries, reader is using crutches (caused by the injuries), reference to the red handed doppelganger.

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

It had been a long day at work, there were more doppelgangers than usual and it really took a toll on you. A doppelganger even started, about how all this was useless and blah blah blah they'd win anyway. It even fought back, and boy did it put on a fight.

You limped on your bandaged leg as you mainly used your crutches to walk, not your first time to have been injured so badly you had to use crutches. You sighed exhaustedly and you imagined your Husband lightly reprimanding you for being so careless once he got home, you quickly brushed that thought away and went back to focusing on getting home.

As you got to the door man's window, you painstakingly take out your ID and entrance request, the Doorman raised a worried eyebrow at your state.

"Bad day at work?" She asked while examining your ID and entrance request.

"Tell me about it." You only sighed and leaned on the small counter Infront of the window to give your (working) leg a break.

"Everything seems good..." She murmured, "you're good to go."

"Thanks." You thanked her and started walking.

---------------------------------------------

You made your way to your shared apartment, letting out a sigh of relief as you jammed the key into the keyhole, twisting to doorknob.

Imagine the shock as your eyes land on your Husband sitting on the couch watching TV, he's usually home late in the afternoon. His head turns to look at you with a slight glimmer in his tired eyes.

You smile softly as he makes his way towards you at the doorway, making notice of your crutches and bandaged leg. The cuts, scratches, and dirt on your clothes and skin didn't go unnoticed either.

"What happened this time..?" Francis asked worriedly. Guiding you to the bathroom to change.

You took your dirtied shirt off as Francis looked away blushing slightly, making his way to the bedroom to get you some clothes.

He arrived soon, still looking away until you gently turned his face to meet you.

Sighing exasperatedly, you softly kissed him on the nose while taking the clothes from his hands, smiling tenderly as you see the ring on his finger.

"I'll tell you after I'm done, thank you Fran."

He simply hummed and looked you up and down, making you smile as a blush tinted your cheeks.

you had a hard time taking your pants and bandages off, that's when you noticed Francis still looking at you, leaning on the doorway with a concerned look on his face.

"Do you... Need any help?" He spoke up, standing up straight and rubbing the back of his neck.

Your eyes softened as you nodded. He made his way over to you to help you stand up, taking care in taking off the rest of your clothing.

His eyes roamed your body, growing more anxious as he takes note of every single scratch and cut. Meanwhile you were nearly falling asleep from his hands gingerly tending to you.

You only woke up from your half asleep state when you heard him speak again.

"Why don't you take a break for a day?" Asked as he turned you around to peck you on the lips, setting you down on the bathtub as he twisted the handle. Checking the temperature and adjusting it according to your liking.

You, once again dozing off. Absentmindedly muttered your answer.

"I should be asking you that." You chuckled softly, turning to look at Francis as he took off his clothes to join you. "Looking good Fran." He blushed.

He scoffed light heartedly as he took a seat behind you so in that way you were sat right in-between his legs with your back facing him.

"Seriously though, you've almost worried me to death. I can't handle seeing you like this, all..." He gestured to your leg as he sighed, applying a good amount of shampoo into your hair and massaging it into your scalp.

"Mmm, don't worry. I've been put on leave for a few weeks. Besides, This isn't the worst I've ever been." You leaned back into him, relishing the touch.

"Why didn't they just send you to stay at the hospital anyway? You would've been better there."

"Because I requested to be sent home, sweetie. I wasn't gonna spend two weeks at the hospital when I could be fine at home."

He washed off your hair and started applying the conditioner, "that's sweet, darling. But you really need to be more careful next time." He kissed the crook of your neck, enjoying the shiver that came from you.

"Hey it's not my fault my job is dangerous." You crossed your arms and exhaled.

"It kinda is, you applied for it after all."

"Fair enough."

He washed the conditioner off then dried your hair using the towels, helping you get out the Bathtub and handing you the towel to wrap yourself in. Doing the same for himself with another towel.

He walked to the bedroom to get himself clothes while you changed in the bathroom with the prepared clothes.

He returned soon after to help you out on the remaining clothes, wrapping some fresh bandages around your wounded leg. Also making sure to compliment your "Magical Ass" along the way.

you two made your way to the bedroom to rest, you immediately flopped down onto the bed which worried Francis. He had barely ever seen you this tired, he was exhausted himself but he can't imagine how tiring your day must've been to have completely drained you of energy.

"You gonna come over here or nah?" You snapped him out of his thoughts. he unfurrowed his eyebrows, not knowing he even did so. Mumbling a quick "sorry" before getting into bed with you.

You immediately grab him and snuggle him much like a child would sleep with their plushie. Despite being injured and all, you we're still very strong. As expected from the lead officer of DDD. he laughed through his nose as he turned to look at you and smiled softly. Kissing your forehead.

"Mind telling me what happened now?" He said, wrapping his arms around you to pull you impossibly closer. Burying his head into your chest. (Y'all can't tell me he ain't a chest man)

You sighed, recounting the events of today.

"We were called for another extermination, thought nothing of it until the stupid thing started talking about how this was useless and they'd just end up 'victorious' anyway." You hugged Francis tighter, letting out a huff of frustration as he hummed to let you know he was listening.

"It ended up getting it's hands on a piece of broken glass and I'm sure you can tell what happened next." You gestured to your leg.

"We called for backup a buncha times but they refused to send more people because apparently I'm a veteran officer and that somehow means everything is fine."

You yawned as you mumbled the last sentence. "Can you believe it Fran?"

"Sounds like the higher ups were being a dick." He replied, enjoying the sensation of your fingers drawing circles and shapes on his back.

"They were." You kissed the top of his head, Francis returned the favour by looking up and kissing the tip of your nose.

"Enough about my day, what about yours?"

Francis hummed, "yknow just the usual, Mara being the massive stick up my ass."

Mara, or Maratha. Was a daily customer Francis wouldn't mind losing, she was really a stinky old bitch, always complaining about nothing and everything at the same time. One of her usual complaints being that "the milk was more watered down than usual!".

"I don't even know why she's saying it to me as if I'm the one milking the cows, I'm just the one delivering it. Say it to my boss why don't ya?"

You snorted, "normal Mara behaviour."

"Normal Mara behaviour." He sighed. "And, there was this girl in that newly renovated building across the road who tried hitting on me?"

"What..?"

"Yeah, i don't even know her name. Told her I was married too but she wouldn't back off. She said something along the lines of 'marriages don't even last long. watch, she'll leave you in a few years.'. " He visibly cringed at the memory.

You laughed at his facial expression, "just because your parents are split doesn't mean others will too."

Francis started laughing with you, wrinkles forming at the edge of his tired eyes. "She didn't even buy milk, saying how they were 'putting microchips and chemicals into the milk.', ridiculous."

As the laughing died down, a comfortable silence settled in the air. Only the sound of your breaths and the occasional beep of a car, the sound of your heartbeat and rustling of the the trees outside.

If only it could stay this way forever, unfortunately though you may not have work, Francis does.

"What a shame, huh? I asked to get sent home instead of the hospital just for you to be at work most of the day. To think there's even some girl hitting on you while I'm not there." You said, eyes slowly closing.

"Mhm, I'll try and ask my boss for a day off tomorrow." He started dozing off, "and if he refuses Ill just put you on the phone."

You smiled triumphantly as you remember that time you had a meeting with his boss.

He looked so Nervous in agreeing for a day off for your husband that it made you wonder what would've been the outcome of you weren't a DDD officer.

"He'll have to accept then huh? Unless he wants to discuss the matter face to face with totally amazing and wonderful me." You joked sarcastically

Francis laughed through his nose, "you got that right dear." he smiled, eyes closed. "Hey, honey?"

"Yes Fran?" You whispered.

"I love you." He slurred, finally falling asleep.

"I love you more." You gave him one last kiss on the head before turning off the lamp and joining him in Dreamland.

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

Should I make a part two?

A/N: eat up pookies

[ghost-proofbaby]

twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)

"HALLOWEEN PARTIES"

EXTRA CONTENT- "BEYOND THE HOURS"

→ pairings: modern!college!eddie x college!fem!reader → warnings: strong language, mentions of breeding kink, mentions of possible future pregnancy, lots of suggestive conversation and making out. not edited. upside down does not exist, minors dni → wc: 9.9k+ → a/n: @take-everything-you-can plagued me with thoughts of what our idiots would get up to on halloween, and i just couldn't help myself. it definitely spiraled out of control though. my bad. ALSO, QUICK DISCLAIMER: please if you get a snake don't do what reader and eddie did. snakes a homebodies. we are just going to pretend it's okay in this context for the name of fiction, alright? obligatory snake owner ramble over. let's GO.

enjoy the main story's masterlist here

The thumping of the bass was audible before you’d even exited the elevator fully. 

Any other day of the year, you’d assume your group of friends would be earning an instant noise complaint for the volume of the music coming from behind Steve and Robin’s apartment front door. But it wasn’t just any other day – it was Halloween, and somewhere amongst the rhythm of what surely had to be Steve blasting Abba, you could make out fellow neighbors playing music just as loudly. 

If anything, the overly quiet apartments were more concerning than the noisy ones. 

“Do you think Lestat is going to do okay with the music?” Eddie suddenly frets, one hand reaching to tug on what little fabric there was of his costume. It almost made you smile, a reminder of what exactly your usually ‘scary’ boyfriend was donning. 

Britney Spears, circa 2001. One of her most iconic VMA performances. 

He’d decided it the moment you two had come home several months ago with the most important accessory that was draped around his neck – a juvenile ball python named Lestat, who looked surprisingly content as he hung onto Eddie’s shoulders. 

“I don’t know,” you hum, looking over at Eddie, a little bit concerned now that he’d brought it up, “Maybe it’s a bad idea-”

“I’m texting Nance to turn the music down.” 

“What if it freaks him out?” 

“It’ll be fine.” 

“What if he gets stressed and bites you, Eddie?” 

To any onlooker, the sight of you might have been a bit funny. Furrowed brows, arms crossed, sticky blood spread out across your stomach and sternum. 

The theme tonight for the two of you had been iconic performances. Eddie insisted, and part of you knew he was just afraid to dress up so extravagantly all alone when it came to this small get-together, but you hadn’t hesitated to pull together your own version of Lady Gaga’s iconic VMA performance from 2009. If you two were going to commit to a theme this year, you were committing. 

Eddie balances his phone in one hand, typing with a single thumb. Impressive, given his history of ardently avoiding owning a smart phone. His other hand trails up to his collarbone, sneaking a careful finger below Lestat’s head, holding him up and pouting his lip a little, “This little guy? Biting me? He would never.” 

The sight was cute. Obnoxiously, overly, endearingly cute. 

“He’s still a snake,” you try to argue, stopping right outside of apartment 34C. The music was more clear now as it switched from whatever Abba tune had been playing to Maneater by Nelly Furtado, “If he gets scared enough, he might.” 

“I’d hardly call him a snake,” Eddie snorts, shoving his phone back into his pocket, smiling as he tilts his chin to awkwardly stare at the snake now carefully slithering over his knuckles, “Dude misses the mice on his first strike every time we feed him. And if there was ever a time he was going to bite me, it would have been when I was taking that moss out of his mouth as he was eating.”

That earns a huff of a laugh from you as well. The image of Eddie on Monday night, absolutely losing his mind as he’d noticed that Lestat had gotten his mouse entangled in some of the moss decorating his enclosure, not even hesitating to open the tank once more and throw his hand in right along with the tongs to prevent your new ‘son’ from ingesting it, crosses your mind. It hadn’t mattered how much you reassured him that it was probably normal in the wild, that Lestat’s body could certainly handle it. Eddie had been insistent and blinded by what could only be described by paternal instinct. 

If you’d asked yourself last Halloween if that had been where you see your life heading in a year’s time, you would have rolled your eyes. 

“You do realize how dumb that was of you, right?” you insist, remembering your fear and the way your breath had caught in the moment. It was funny now, but you’d never gripped onto Eddie’s shoulder tighter than when he’d recklessly done so. You loved the snake, you really did, but you’d realized in that moment you might still love Eddie just a little bit more. 

The conversation is cut short as it’s clear that Nancy had received Eddie’s text, the music behind the door quieting a bit along with a change of song. 

Your jaw nearly drops, “You did not make Nancy do that.” 

The opening notes of I’m a Slave 4 U were impossible to miss.

“I did.” 

“You’re an idiot.” 

“Are you gonna insult me the entire night, or let me make my iconic entrance?” 

You don’t get a chance to answer, Eddie carefully passing by you, Lestat’s head bouncing a little as it passes a bit closer to your face than you would have been comfortable with a few months ago. 

The snake, funnily enough, had even been your idea to begin with. Your want, your desperate argument you’d wasted countless breaths upon while getting ready for bed with Eddie. 

It’ll be fun, you’d whined to Eddie as you’d both crawled into bed, we even have the space in the living room. 

Sweetheart, you’re fucking terrified of snakes, Eddie had easily rebuttalled. He wasn’t wrong, but it didn’t stop you from huffing like a petulant child. 

That’s an exaggeration, you argued right back.

Your hands had still shook ferociously that first day of bringing home the snake when you’d been the one to move him from the small container the store had placed him and into the full fifty gallon tank now occupying a fairly large chunk of the apartment’s living room. 

You’re still lost in your head as the door swings open for Eddie right as the first chorus of the song begins. He’s dramatic, fully committed, a glimmer of who he must have been in high school shining right through as he struts confidently into your friends’ apartment. 

A version of Eddie you somehow missed despite never having met. You almost wonder if you would have still ended up here if you’d met then; you almost wonder if you would have still ended up at each other’s throats inevitably, even in those days. 

You probably would have. You secretly hope that it all would have still happened exactly as it has. 

“No fucking way!” 

Robin is the first voice you can hear excitedly shriek out a reaction to Eddie, followed by a sharp hush from Nancy. They’re deeper in the apartment, out of your line of sight. You can hear Jonathan’s muttered response lost in the music, and you can smell Argyle’s presence rather than hear or see it. 

Weed had been expected, but Steve and Robin were strict in their rule of only partaking on the balcony. 

“Yes fucking way,” Eddie responds, clearly giddy. You finally trail in behind him, not necessarily shy but certainly not nearly as extravagant as he had been. You hang back a bit, biting back a grin, just admiring your boy.

All warmth, rosey cheeks spread wide in his boyish grin, eyes bright as he wiggles his brows as Robin. 

“I didn’t think you’d actually do it,” Robin whispers as she rushes forward, glancing over her shoulder, clearly looking for Steve before she leans it a tad bit closer towards Lestat. 

“Mama didn’t raise a bitch,” Eddie snarkily replies, moving to slowly remove the snake from his neck. 

“Language,” you jokingly scold him, reaching out to take the snake from his hands as he brings it to his chest, giving Robin a closer look at the nearly-glimmering pale scales of your pet. Almost instinctively, he starts to pull the animal away, but once he sees the look on your face, he’s quick to hand him over. “No cursing around our son.”

Nancy finally walks up, still no sign of Steve as she joins your side and Lestat wraps his body slowly around your wrist, “Oh my God, don’t tell me you also refer to this thing as your child.” 

“This thing?” Eddie huffs, more offended than you, “Nance, he has a name.” 

Robin has gravitated towards you now, entirely captivated by the ball python, eyes shimmering as she lets out the smallest gasps and squeals under her breath, “What’s his name?” 

“Lestat,” you whisper, watching Nancy and Eddie grow closer and clearly get more immersed in their own private conversation, “But Eddie wanted to name him Frodo.” 

“Frodo,” Robin chuckles a little, looking at you questioningly as she holds out a timid finger. You give her a nod, moving a thicker part of the snake’s body to face her rather than the head, “Sounds like Eddie.” 

It did indeed. Once the bickering of whether or not you two would even get the snake to begin with had faded, the entire argument of what its name would be had started up. Eddie wanted the snake to be named after his favorite books – you wanted to name the snake after your most recent reads. 

You’d clearly won. At the sacrifice of promising the inevitable first of many cats you and Eddie would eventually have be named Frodo instead. But you’d still won. 

Robin’s eyes finally leave the snake long enough to take in your own outfit, and you hadn’t realized it was possible for the girl’s grin to widen, “Wait - are you dressed as Lady Gaga from her Paparazzi performance?” 

“Oh, my dear Birdie,” you coo out the endearment, shivering slightly as the cool body of the snake continues to slither up near your elbow, “This night is just getting started.”

—

You were right. The night had just begun. 

The first few hours pass fairly chaotically. A languid and rapid mixing of everyone excitedly catching up on each other’s lives, various drinks beginning to be concocted. Some delicious, and some spurring gags from others simply from the description of the hard liquor that had gone into them. 

Argyle had managed to lure many of the group out onto the patio at various intervals to partake in the devil’s lettuce, as he had proudly proclaimed it. Nancy and Jonathan had figured out a way to set up a makeshift karaoke party in the living room, lyrics for songs being displayed on the main TV. And Steve, for all his attentive hospitality as the one of the co-hosts of the night, had remained painfully oblivious. 

Eddie had gone behind his back when it came to bringing Lestat. Steve had made it clear when the two of you had purchased the puppy in reptile form that he wanted nothing to do with the python, while the rest of the group had been easily intrigued – especially Robin. And so once Eddie had decided upon his Britney outfit, the next logical step had been securing Lestat’s attendance at the party. He hadn’t texted Steve - or Nancy, as a matter of fact - but rather Robin. 

The girl hadn’t even taken a minute to respond, overly enthusiastic to meet the snake. 

Everyone had slowly become a part of a more silent bet as the night dragged on, and for once, you and Eddie were on the betting side of it all. The drinks were poured, the weed was smoked, the music was sung along to painfully off-key, and Steve never once noticed the snake that was frequently wrapped around various parts of yours and Eddie’s body. 

The quick exchanges probably didn’t help. When Steve needed your help in the kitchen at one point, you’d smoothly handed Lestat over to Eddie in passing. When Eddie had agreed to join Jonathan and Argyle on the balcony at one point, he’d easily and carefully draped the snake across the nape of your neck from behind the couch. Hell, you’d even spent a good five minutes engrossed in a conversation with Steve, all the while Lestat had been comfortably coiled around your bicep opposite the man. 

As the hours passed by, you found yourself wanting to be caught. 

Your phone pings suddenly as you bury yourself deeper into the leather couch, giggling over Steve’s current rendition of What’s New Scooby Doo?. 

You shuffle carefully to pull it from where you’d wedged it against your hip, trapped weakly by your white bottoms speckled with glittery blood.

WORLD’S HOTTEST BOYFRIEND: I want a cigarette :-( 

You do a double take of the contact name, blinking rapidly before you finally connect the dots. 

YOU: when the hell did you change your contact name in my phone?

WORLD’S HOTTEST BOYFRIEND:  Unimportant. 

WORLD’S HOTTEST BOYFRIEND:  Do you think if I hand Lestat off to you right now that Steve would notice? 

Your eyes flick up as the song ends, Robin having jumped up to finish off the performance with Steve, the two of them a mess of flailing limbs clinging to each other and joyful laughter bubbling out of them for unknown reasons. 

Well, partially unknown reasons. One of them was surely the strange concoction the two of them had chugged at some point in the night that had included both watermelon flavored vodka and green apple whiskey. That had been one you’d cringed and stuck your tongue out at. 

YOU: 50/50 chance. And NOT unimportant btw, what’s my name in YOUR phone? 

Just as Eddie exits the bathroom, Steve perks up at the sound of the door and distant flush, removing himself entirely from Robin’s embrace, “Fuckin’ finally! I have to piss.”

Everyone holds their breath as he rushes past Eddie, but he still remains completely unaware of the snake that Eddie is carrying. 

The slam of the door times perfectly with Eddie’s collapse onto the couch next to you, a shy and guilty grin already gracing his face before you even begin bursting at the seams with continuing the text conversation face-to-face. 

“Seriously,” you waste no time, turning to him quickly and your knee easily overlapping his thigh as you shuffle into a more comfortable position, “When did you change your name in my phone, asshole?” 

He takes his time answering, pulling on the ridiculously small jean shorts he wears as his shoulders quiver with the effort of holding in his laughter, “Words hurt, baby.” 

You hate the way nicknames as simple as baby can send still shivers down your spine. 

“You couldn’t have at least been a little more creative? Like, world’s hottest boyfriend? C’mon, you can be more clever than that, surely.” 

It’s easy to do this, to egg him on and prod at his ego in the softest of ways. It’s also always been a dead giveaway to him that he’s gotten under your skin. 

“My name with a pretty black heart next to it just wasn’t cutting it anymore,” he pouts exaggeratedly, leaning into your space a bit, holding the snake a careful distance away as he looks into your eyes and a suspiciously jubilant look crosses his face, “What would you have preferred?” 

“Something shorter,” you breathe out, feeling some of the alcohol coursing through your veins now, making your headswim as you suck in the scent of his cologne heavy in the space between you, “It’s a bit of a mouthful, if I’m being honest.” 

“It is,” he nods, and his lips spread salaciously, pupils growing just a tad bit wider before he delivers a devastating blow, “But we both know you can take it, can’t you, baby?”

Damn him. Fuck him. Send him all the way down to the depths of Hell, for all you care. 

He’s caught on to a clear game he can play now that you’re tipsy, one that he certainly has the upper hand in, and you can’t tell if the night ending in him winning it would actually spell your loss. You swear, you can already feel his hands on your hips, tearing off the costume you’d spent several weeks carefully sewing sequins into, his lips getting sticky with all the fake blood across your torso, his- 

Huh. Never had you realized yourself to be such a horny drunk. 

“Now I need a cigarette,” you grumble, leaning away from him, trying to break whatever spell he was casting. None of your friends’ have even noticed the interaction happening on the couch, saving you from eternal embarrassment. 

If you’d had less pinot noir and shots of Fireball whiskey in your veins, you’d probably still find the decency in you to be self-conscious at toying with these things in public. Maybe scold him, maybe douse out whatever flames he was attempting to ignite. 

Eddie leans back as well, clearly satisfied with himself as he lifts Lestat up to preoccupy himself by pretending to study the lightened coloring of the snake. Mostly white, with splatterings of a traditional morph at random across the body. The woman who had sold the snake to the two of you had referred to it as a piebald. If you had been shopping with an actual breeder rather than a reputable rescue, he would have cost an arm and a leg. 

Luck had been on your side the day you’d stumbled upon the snake. You wish luck was still on your side tonight. 

Eddie sticks out the tip of his tongue to mimic the snake a few times before he focuses on you again, “You know, we could always see if Robin wants to watch him while we both go grab one.”

You have no clue how the girl had heard him from across the living room, but she suddenly appears at his side, just as eager in appearance as her original text giving the blessing to bring Lestat had been. 

“Did someone say I could hold the snake?” she bounces a bit on the balls of her feet, looking down with utter fascination, “Please tell me you guys just said I could hold the little guy. When you first got him, I did a ton of research so I’d know proper handling tips, and also how to know if he gets too stressed. Also I may or may not have been nervous about how often they bite, but I found out that-”

“They don’t bite,” Eddie interrupts with reassurance, offering a small smile as he looks up to her, “At least, not very often. You usually have to aggravate them pretty badly, or catch them on a really shit day for them to strike.” 

It had been a huge selling point in convincing him. Ball pythons were docile in nature, and they’d be quicker to match up to their namesake by balling up than actually strike out at someone. 

Of course, the day you had been informing of this, you had no idea he was already aware of it. He knew they didn’t bite, he knew the specifics of what a habitat for them needed, he knew their dietary needs – he’d already had an Amazon shopping cart filled with supplies after the first time you brought the snake up to him, unbeknownst to you. 

“Yeah,” Robin nods ferociously, hands reaching out carefully, already more than prepared to take the snake, “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Now hand over the baby and go do whatever debauchery you two are clearly wanting to get up to.” 

“We aren’t getting up to debauchery!” you try to defend the two of you, watching Eddie carefully uncurl Lestat from his arm to pass him into Robin’s waiting hands, “Eddie just wants a cigarette and-”

“And you want to join him and probably get in some hot and steamy makeout sessions, right?” Robin finishes your sentence for you, quirking an eyebrow for a second before letting out a whisper of a squeal when Lestat takes to her quickly. His tail wraps around the length of her wrist and you’re shocked as you watch him stay just as curious as he had been while held by you and Eddie. A tad bit more reserved, but no sign of balling up any time soon. 

Eddie stands from the couch, patting his largest back pocket to ensure his pack of cigarettes and lighter are still safely tucked into it, and you know it’s useless to keep arguing with Robin. She’s entirely entrapped by the snake in her hands now, whispering in a high-pitched tone that surprisingly doesn’t seem to bother Lestat. All her coos nearly resemble baby-talk. It’s cute – sort of. A direct mirror of how you and Eddie have been acting at home when you handle the ball python. 

You stand slower than Eddie had, hawk eyes still glued to your friend, “Just- Just be careful, okay? Avoid touching his head, and don’t wave your hands around too much while talking, because it can scare him. He also might try and crawl up to your hair because Eddie lets him hide in his at home, and sometimes he’ll pull on it because it sticks to him, so just-”

“Sweetheart,” Eddie stresses, throwing an arm around your shoulders, giving your bicep opposite from him a quick squeeze, “She’ll be fine.” 

Robin nods, clearly only half listening to the debate as she watches Lestat wander up her arm in clear wonder. 

It sort of does feel like Lestat is your actual human child, as though you’re leaving your toddler with a babysitter for the first time. 

Eddie tugs you deeper into his side, musky cinnamon and boyish charm filling your nose as he leans down and murmurs, “C’mon.” 

A Ghost song starts to thump over the speakers as you allow Eddie to guide you over to the sliding door beside the kitchen, the layout different and even a tad bit nicer than your own apartment. It’s odd, the view of the kitchen being clearer than the living room, the exact opposite of how your home is. 

Home. Even in your tipsy state, even after so much time having living with Eddie and even going as far as to now own a pet with him, the notion fills you with warmth. 

Maybe you’re actually a sentimental drunk. 

As the two of you pass by Argyle, he briefly lifts his head, cherry-shaded eyes peering up excitedly until Eddie quickly shakes his head, making the poor man sink back against the loveseat that he occupies with Jonathan and Nancy. You almost feel bad, but it’s clear Argyle is too far gone to even feel disappointment right now. 

“After you, m’lady,” Eddie chivalrously slides the door open for you, half-bowing and putting on a half-assed British accent as he sweeps his arm for you to exit onto the balcony first. 

“It’s Lady Gaga to you,” you snark as you slip out into the crisp Autumn air, cheeks cooling instantly. 

“Oh,” the door slides shut with a soft thud behind Eddie as he joins you, face immediately covered by the shadows of the evening, “My apologies.” 

It’s nice out. Far nicer than any October has been in the city in what feels like years. The air is refreshing, dare you even say sobering, and the city lights below wink at you as you hear all the distant noises of life. Car horns, children’s laughter, music from other parties. It sounds as though one of the neighbors below is blasting heavy rap, and you swear you can hear the trill of a radio pop song from your left. 

Beer, cider, pumpkin spice – it all fills the air. It’s Halloween, and it’s nice. 

The breeze is electric with all the livelihood, sending goosebumps up your arms as you approach the railing, looking out across a night sky painted some sort of faded cross between navy and grey rather than a stark black of midnight. 

It all turns to static the moment Eddie wraps his arms around your waist from behind you, heavy pack of cigarettes in his palm as his lips find solace in one of the few bare patches of skin on your shoulder. 

“God, I love Halloween,” he murmurs against you, his breath hot as it catches across your costume. 

God, I love you.

You can’t help the cheesy thought as a hand comes up to grip Eddie’s forearm, giving three short squeezes, pulling him just a tad bit closer. But it’s true – Halloween was wonderful, you’d always enjoyed any excuse to get together with your friends and family, but it had never felt quite like this. 

Planning cliche dates during the season, movie marathons spent cuddling up with your other half rather than sitting across on a couch from friends. Kisses in the pumpkin patch. Cider on his lips. Putting up decorations and ending up chasing each other around the apartment, landing in a pile of limbs that slot against one another perfectly. Arguing about which decorations should go on the balcony, which garland to line your front door with. 

It wasn’t a replacement for spending time with your friends. And there were still crude jokes, still bickering over timing of plans and locations to visit. It still felt like spending the holiday with friends – it was spending it with your best friend. 

Eddie Munson. Your best friend. Your boyfriend. The sentiment is unexpected to past you, but so entirely welcome by the you currently enveloped in his embrace.

“I used to insist on spending Halloween alone, you know,” you mumble as his chin digs in the point where your shoulder connects to your neck, vision blurring as you continue to stare out at the tiny busy streets, “Just, like, lay around in my dorm. Watch shitty horror movies on my laptop until I got too scared and had to find some dumb comedy to help me sleep. It was the only day of the year where my roommate sort of acknowledged my existence. She was the one who’d go out, and she’d get all this candy and share it with me.” 

You don’t know the point of your rambling, but Eddie is listening intently anyways. 

You turn carefully in his arms, now mesmerized by how his face looks in the warm glow of the seasonal lights Robin and Steve had put up. Shades of orange flickering across his amber eyes, shadows making all his sharpness in his features more prominent. 

“Talking about it now sounds kind of boring,” you muse, laughing a bit dryly, “The most festive thing I would do was going to the Halloween store with Robin and Steve once they opened.”

“Yeah?” he asks softly, arms still tangled around you, grinning gently, “I don’t think that’s too boring.” 

“It was,” you insist, pressing just a little closer to him, “God, it was so boring. Not going to the store with those idiots – I mean, that was pretty fun. But it was nothing compared to setting up a snake habitat, or carving pumpkins with you. Now I can watch whatever slasher you want before bed, and I still sleep just fine, cause I’ve got you to protect me.” 

His smile matches your own – radiant, proud, happy. 

“Oh, definitely,” he nods once, twice. So sure, ego inflated for the bit, “Any scary men with a chainsaw dare to break into our apartment, and I’ve got you, sweetheart.” 

Our apartment. The perfect ring to it. 

“Didn’t you scream about that spider in our apartment yesterday? Like, full on squeal, hopping up onto the couch, begging me to save you-” 

He cuts off all your teasing, even though it was true, with a kiss. Simple, strong, sure. Fingers dancing under your chin to pull you up to him, meeting you halfway and not even hiding his smile at your antics as he effectively shuts you up. 

“We agreed to not talk about that,” he mumbles against your lips, tasting like the last shot of whiskey he took with Nancy. 

“You agreed to not talk about it,” you pester back, trying to pull away from his kiss. But his other hand comes up, trapping your face between both his palms, and it’s a useless effort, “I just promised to not immediately share the photo of you up on the couch with everyone.” 

Half the words are hardly articulate as his lips continue to nip at yours, struggling from your wide smile and the way your entire body is shaking from your giggles. You can feel the cold metal of the railing brushing your exposed lower back, a breeze picking up that can be blamed for the goosebumps racing down your spine rather than Eddie’s wandering hand. It’s not devourment, it’s not desperation, it’s not Earth-shattering. 

It’s something like mending. Something like a promise. 

Living together, celebrating the holidays together, owning a pet together – they were all baby steps leading to something even brighter in the future. An unspoken truth between the both of you. An inevitable crescendo to all that had been built. 

Eddie whines a bit when you pull away again, but this time, your forehead stays pressed to his. A joint effort between the way you tilt your head and the way his hands press you against him.

“Do you remember the last time we were on a balcony together?” you ask in a low whisper, trying to mimic the same suggestive tone that he’s always been able to put on at the drop of a hat.

You’re not quite as talented as him. You’re actually just a giggly drunk.

His brows furrow, “What? This morning?” 

“No.” 

“Two nights ago, when you insisted Lestat needed to see the moon?”

“No.” 

“Are you talking about the afternoon we had a redo of our pumpkin carving contest? Because I still won again, fair and square, ba-”

“I’m talking about the bet, you idiot.” 

His fingertips press a bit deeper into your flesh, his lips forming a wobbly ‘o’ as he stares down at you, “How was I supposed to know you were referring to that? That was definitely not the last time we were on a balcony together-”

You shut him up with the same courtesy as he had done to you, adding in a roll of your eyes before your hands wrap around his neck to pull him into you. This time, you make it hot and heavy. Lips and teeth and tongues, grabby hands from the both of you making their way across all the exposed skin and scraps of costumes you two wear. It takes Eddie aback at first, clearly not expecting the sudden passion, but he recovers quickly. 

He remembers exactly what you’re referring to quickly. 

Your back collides a bit harsher with the railing as he rolls his body up against yours, not a breath of space between the two of you as he wedges his knee between your thighs. You have no idea where his pack of cigarettes has vanished to, but you don’t care. All you really care about is the way he’s holding you, the way he’s suffocating you, the way he’s watering you. 

It’s hard to believe the garden within that he’s nurtured at your side for the last year was ever something broken. That there was once a time it was nothing more than dried vines and pathetic blossoms begging to see the light of day. Now, the warmth of a thousand suns was gifted to you every morning you awoke to his smile. Every joke, every small caring act, every kiss stolen just because one of you felt like it. You two may have accidentally killed that first plant you bought the week you moved in properly with him, but this? 

You can’t imagine a day where the two of you ever might let this die off. 

His lips break from yours, predictably painting a path along your jaw as he murmurs, “I think I do remember. But, just in case – wanna remind me?” 

And for a second, you almost do. 

All your coils are tight across your body, burning in your abdomen and shaking in your knees, but all it takes is the faintest movement of a shadow to remember all your friends inside the apartment still. 

“We can’t,” you whisper, as if they might hear you in the glass, trying to pry yourself away from him just as his teeth start to graze your neck, “Seriously - we can’t.” 

Eddie chuckles lowly against your neck, and you know exactly why. 

You’d started this without even considering the consequences. 

“Started something you can’t finish, didn’t ya, baby?” 

Oh, damn him. That stupid low and teasing tone. That dimple you can feel brush against your skin as he moves his mouth to the other side of your neck. All the heat in your body travels south, pooling between your hips, aching for him to go against your wishes to avoid embarrassment and just finish this. 

He doesn’t, though. You’re starting to believe he’s less drunk than you are, a clearer mind than your own with far more sensibility than he seems capable of most of the time. His lips leave your neck, his hands finding the polite placement of hovering over your hips. The fog is starting to clear, if only just the slightest bit, and-

You were wrong. So, so wrong. 

He’s not sensible. That wicked hand placement was nowhere near polite. In an instant, he’s latched onto you tightly and spun you around, quickly bending you over against the railing so your chest presses into the metal and the cold sends shockwaves across your entire body. Your ass is pressed to his crotch and one hand holds you securely, tight enough that he can be sure you won’t fall, as the other crawls up your back at impeccable speed to press you further down. 

Immediately, you’re squealing, “Eddie!” 

His laughter is just as loud as all your protests as you come face-to-face with the true height of a three-story balcony, knuckles paling from gripping onto the bars. 

You’d hate him for it, but you feel the security of his palm and knuckles around your waist, and you know he’s not letting you go anywhere over that railing. He’s hardly even allowing your head to hang over it. 

The moment you start to lean back up against his hand on your back, he’s allowing it immediately. There’s no friction or fight as you stand up straight once more, back against his chest and your hands already prepared to swing back to smack him before both of his arms come up around your shoulders and cross your chest. 

“You asshole,” you gasp out, flailing hands deciding to grip strongly onto his forearms as he cradles you up in the tight embrace from behind, still chucking in your ear as you both take several steps back. Your heart pounds, and you’re pretty sure your nails are biting into his skin. 

Maybe they’ll leave a mark – you hope they sort of hurt. 

“Just had to make sure you really do remember that night,” he jokes, trying to lean his head far enough over your shoulder to get a good look at your face, “I think the bars would have been a bit more exposing, though, yeah?” 

Your nails dig in deeper, and his grin widens. 

Bastard.

“What if I had fallen?” you snap, finding it hard to be mad at him. Those damned strong arms around you, the thump of his own heart right against the space between your shoulder blades, that fucking dimple. 

“I wouldn’t have let you.”

If the two of you had children some day, would they have his dimples? 

“We’re both drunk-”

“I’m not that drunk.”

“-And I’m pretty sure this balcony isn’t up to OSHA standards-”

“Oh, it definitely isn’t.” 

“-And you almost left our poor son motherless,” you finish off with a forced scowl, shaking off his embrace to face him properly, “Are you prepared for that? Were you prepared to be a single father?” 

God, you hate his fucking smile. God, you hope if you have real kids someday, they have that same shit-eating grin. 

With a pout of his lips, he steps back up to you, looking down tauntingly, “You’re right, baby. I didn’t even think about poor Lestat.”

You hum, standing your ground, but your defenses are quickly crumbling. Your mind is running with too many thoughts, exhausting itself over everything except the residing anger you should feel at your absolute nuisance of a boyfriend. 

The feeling of being held down by him in that position once more. How the heat of his body had warmed you, and you’d only noticed now that the cool air was attacking your exposed back. Swimming in the visions of what color eyes your children might have, pigtail curls of a little girl with Eddie’s defiance or a little boy who wears his shit-eating grin as he exhibits your same unbreakable curiosity. 

You definitely shouldn’t have drank so much tonight. It doesn’t matter what kind of drunk you are – it was a bad idea regardless.

“Whatcha thinkin’ about?” Eddie’s voice takes you out of your thoughts as he slides his arms around your waist, always needing to be touching you, clingy to a ridiculous degree. 

You weren’t complaining, though. How could you? If given the option, you’d make a home out of his bones in a fraction of a heartbeat as well. 

“Nothin’,” you lie through a sigh, head tilted dramatically, much preferring to focus on the ginger contours of Eddie’s cheeks than whatever future Jack Daniels had been painting in your mind. 

“Bullshit,” he doesn’t hesitate to call you out on it. And it’s not the alcohol fueling his boldness – it’s just how he is. He knows you better than the back of his hand, the roof of his mouth, his favorite songs on guitar. He knows you. “You got this dreamy look in your eyes, and you’re staring so hard over my shoulder, I’m almost scared I’ll turn around to see a ghost in the window-” 

Jack Daniels will be your arch nemesis after tonight, the culprit behind the way the words suddenly tumble out of your mouth, “Do you think we’ll have kids someday?” 

You wait for the air to leave the space between the two of you with the same urgency it’s left your lungs. You wait for a crack in the air, a chasm to suddenly appear. It’s heavy – God, it’s a heavy question to suddenly ask your boyfriend of one year at a Halloween party. You’re both drunk on your friends’ balcony, and you were having a perfectly sweet moment, and you’d just gone and ruined it. And to top it all off, Eddie was still just smiling, and- 

Wait. 

Eddie was smiling. 

The air was still there, filling his lungs with calm breaths. No sign of fear within his twinkling eyes. No chasm squeezing between the stitches holding you two together. 

He’s just smiling. 

“Is that really what you were thinking about?” he quietly asks.

You almost don’t want to answer. You almost want to force out cackles of fake laughter, to double over and face the ground rather than his humored expression. 

“Yeah.” 

Maybe he doesn’t believe you yet, maybe he has to double check before he breaks out into his own laughter. Maybe the alcohol in both your veins is just delaying the inevitable that you’d been originally expecting. 

Maybe, maybe, maybe. 

Maybe not. 

Instead of laughter, instead of mocking you, he keeps a cheery expression as he shrugs softly, “I mean, maybe? I sort of hope so. And, don’t get me wrong, I know a kid is a pretty far leap from a snake, but I’d say we make a pretty good team at keeping living things…. Well, living, y’know? Besides, I solemnly swear I won’t try to name our kids after Tolkien. I’ll reserve those names for the pets.” 

All the air leaves your lungs again, but this time, it’s a little less painful, “What?” 

“Annie’s a cute name,” he continues on, completely unphased. It’s nearly impossible to remember that you were the one who had started such a serious conversation about the future, “I also like the name Parker. I remember you mentioned that one once, right? Something about being able to nickname the kid Pac-Man, I’m pretty sure. I think that’d be pretty sick.” 

And oh, was he right. You had mentioned the name Parker once. Just not to him. Not directly, at least.

The entire ridiculous make-believe scenario had come to you during a girls’ night, after one too many glasses of wine and Nancy bringing up the topic. You, her, and Robin had all spent a good hour coming up with names for children and the best nicknames to suit them. Some had been genuine, and some had been for nothing more than shits and giggles. 

Parker, and the nickname Pac-Man, had been serious for you. Parker Anthony. You hadn’t figured out a second middle name to complete the initial acronym of Pac that night, the rosé eventually getting to you, but you had been serious. 

“You were listening that night?” you breathe out, only feeling slightly betrayed, “What the Hell? I thought you said you were going to put your headphones on and listen to some Metallica to unwind after work.”

“I lied,” he cheeses, hot palms against your barren lower back, “I’m nosey. Sue me.” 

“You could have just joined us, Eddie.” 

“And miss the chance to hear you plot out the middle names of our future children?” Eddie snorts, “Not a chance, sweetheart.” 

He says it so casually, you wonder if it’s possible for a heart to burst from optimism. 

“So,” you pause, take a deep breath, feeling the embarrassment creep back up your throat, “Is that, uh…. Is that a yes? That you do think so?”

Why was it so hard to repeat yourself, to just say the words already spoken? 

Eddie had made it clear you had nothing to lose. You two were on the same page. He hadn’t scoffed in your face, he hadn’t even pulled away at the mere mention of the idea. Instead, he had leaned fully into it, head-first as he slid right into the imaginary future with you. He’d given a name to the little girl with his hair and his spunk, to the little boy with his dimples and his mischief. 

Was it still a little too soon, too fast? Was that where the hesitation was born from? 

It just all felt a bit too easy. After the rocky start you two had endured, this entire last year had just felt too simple. 

Of course, even if the hesitation was sitting there in the pit of your stomach alongside all of your anxieties, all of your waiting for the other shoe to drop, Eddie easily soothes it all over as he gives a slow nod and responds, “Yeah. I do – I really do.” 

And you clearly wear your heart on your sleeve, emotions painted across your eyes and cheeks for him to read clear as day, because he notices that catch in your breath.

“Not right now,” he rushes to add on, “I mean, listen, we’re still adjusting to Lestat. I think I’d like to be a cat dad too, before I even think about being a girl dad.” 

“You’re gonna be a girl dad?” you laugh out without thinking, starting to thaw into a conversation that Jack Daniels had begun but you know you can surely finish with Eddie at your side, “That’s… unexpected.” 

His face scrunches for the first time during the entire conversation, “What? You don’t think I’d be a good girl dad? I already deal with my rat’s nest of hair, so I know I’d be at least decent at braiding. And can you imagine getting to take a mini-you to shows, or buying her some cute unicorn helmet once she’s old enough to ride ol’ Nightfury? God, I think I might die from cuteness overload…”

Your cheeks are aching, ears ringing with his words. But all you can do is latch onto one little phrase: mini-you. 

Here you were, picturing duplicates of Eddie bounding around the two of you, and you hadn’t considered what he might be seeing. 

Not a child with his spunk. No, he’s seeing a little girl with your wit. A little boy with your stubbornness. Those eyes of his, nearly resembling heart-shapes at this point, weren’t wanting to see carbon copies of his whiskey irises. He wanted yours to be looking back up at him. 

Hearts clearly can’t burst from an overload of optimism, of happiness. Yours beats wildly as proof, still intact behind your ribs that bloom with rosebuds for the boy pressed to your front. 

“Mini-me?” you murmur, making him trail off, focused entirely on you so sincerely you could choke up. You shake your head, letting out a soft huff of air, smiling down at the ground, “No, I- I think you’ll be an amazing dad, Eddie. I just didn’t…. I just forgot…”

“That I’m with you all the way?” he finishes your sentence for you, one eyebrow arched as he gives a squeeze to one of your hips, “You could decide tomorrow you don’t even want to talk about having a kid ever again, that you’d rather get ten more snakes and live as some sort of cryptic couple somewhere in the Midwest the rest of our lives, and I’d be just as excited. I don’t really care where we end up, sweetheart – I just care that it’s with you,” You can no longer tell if it’s his words or the remnants of alcohol in your system that has you tearing up. All you know is that you are, and it’s ridiculous, but it’s fine, because all you see are dark brown eyes and entire realms of possibility in front of you, “Girl dad, snake dad, cat dad – whatever you need from me, I’m your guy.”

When the first tear falls, you're quick to shoot one hand up to your cheek in order to swipe it away as the other reaches out blindly to smack Eddie softly, “Shut up. Stop being cheesy. I’m too drunk for this.” 

“You’re right,” he nods ferociously, taking over the duty of wiping away your tears without so much as mentioning it, “Wanna make out again instead?” 

You let out a snort, and it eggs him on. 

“Or, hey,” his eyes light up, some of the seriousness of the moment fading naturally, “Maybe we ditch this party and start practicing. You know, in case we still want kids someday.” 

His pupils widen a bit, and you know surely that it’s only half a joke. You don’t miss the way his breathing picks up at the thought.

“Careful, big boy,” you tease, leaning into his feathery touch on your cheek, relishing the way the nickname draws him under your spell even when you aren’t saying it with an ounce of gravity, “It’d be awfully dangerous to get yourself worked up in such short shorts.” 

Saying it outloud almost makes you want to see it, genuinely. 

“Worked up?” he scoffs, backing up a little, caught off-guard, “Who says I’m getting worked up? I’m not getting worked up.” 

It doesn’t matter how many steps back he takes from you, you still follow, your palm still lands dead center on his chest as you roll your eyes, “Right. Because I’m totally meant to believe that the guy who used to jack off to Playboy magazines with girls who looked like me isn’t going to pop a boner at the thought of fucking a baby into me-”

He shuts you up with a kiss. Nearly more resembling a bite, his canines digging right into your bottom lip as he pulls you forward and collapses back against the glass door behind him. 

No words are spoken, no subtle interruptions for this kiss. Toying a dangerous line, dancing along a narrow cliff, and he’s the one who’s decided to drag the two of you off of it. 

You don’t mind. You’d follow him to the ends of the world if he asked you to. 

When one of his hands reaches up to your scalp, tugging at the roots of your hair for no other reason than he can, your mouth opens up into a silent laugh. An invitation, a jeer, a challenge. A quiet whisper of go ahead, do it. Consume me already. 

He’s already everything to you. He’s already a definition of home thinly veiled with skin and bones, a future with a heartbeat. 

His tongue down your throat doesn’t change the matter. Just reclaims it. 

A whine is lost in translation somewhere from the back of your throat and right into his cheeks. His right hand wraps around some of the skin of one of your thighs, encouraging it to lift up to his hip, and you can still feel the memory of his usual rings imprinting into your skin. A permanent tattoo, a ghost of a feeling that’ll haunt you for all time – you love it. You want to live there forever, right here in this haunted house, collecting memories and dust of all that he is. 

Haunted houses are only lonely when you’re left to wander these halls all by yourself, and you think he’d truly cross over into the actual afterlife rather than leave you like that. 

The kiss is almost enough to forget where you are and who’s waiting on you inside the apartment. It’s almost enough to have you recreating that fateful night from over a year ago, to let him bend you back over this balcony railing again, and this time, any squeals you let out won’t be of fear. You’d face that fall head on.

His hot hands on your waist, his tongue in your cheek, his knee once again pressed between your inner thighs. Him, him, him-

A sharp rap sounds on the sliding door behind Eddie, and you’ve never jumped apart faster. 

It’s Robin and Nancy at the door, Lestat happily wrapped around Robin’s forearm as she waves and points eagerly to him and Nancy simply crosses her arms, raising an eyebrow as though she might have been a disappointed mother rather than a friend at the moment. 

You done? Robin mouths, exaggerating her silent enunciation. 

As you nod, Eddie only deeply sighs, throwing his head back against the glass with a soft thump. Nancy is quick to throw out a palm against the glass and tap back at him, mimicking swatting him for his theatrics. 

Eddie pays no mind to Nancy’s retaliation, or maybe he just doesn’t see it, as he whines out, “I didn’t even get my cigarette.”

“Oh, cut it out, drama queen,” you snicker, trying to hide all your breathlessness as you fully pull away, “We’ve left our son alone long enough. You can chainsmoke to your heart’s desire once we get back home.” 

You’re already walking towards the door, Nancy and Robin having retreated further into the kitchen, when he catches your wrist to tug you back close to him. He leans down, deliberate and careful to make sure his lips catch against the lobe of your ear, whispering soft as night, “Can’t chainsmoke if I’m too busy fucking a baby into you, sweetheart.” 

It feels like someone’s poured literal fire across your body. As if flames have been dumped over the crown of your head, and are licking their pathway down your spine. 

“Eddie.” 

If you don’t get inside within the next ten seconds, you’re definitely going to make a decision you regret. 

He’s chuckling the entire time he steps around you, opening the door and waving for you to slip inside in front of him. Your entire body is still burning so violently, you barely register the way his fingers hang at his side and make a point to brush the back of your thigh when you pass him. 

Bastard, you want to snipe, but instead you just smile. 

—

The next morning, you’re awoken by the incessant pinging of your phone. 

You try to ignore it at first, burying your head deeper beneath the covers as a headache pulses at the edges of your mind, but after the fifth ping, it becomes impossible. 

“Who the fuck is texting us this early?” Eddie’s muffled voice complains into his pillow, facedown with one arm thrown across you securely. 

You can even feel him kick his bare legs in a show of defiance next to yours at the edge of the bed. If it wasn’t for the late night prior catching up to you, it’d be something sweet to laugh at. 

“What time is it?” you croak, scooching further up the bed, making Eddie’s arm around you only tighten. As if he can stop you from getting out of bed, or delay the inevitable by resisting you checking the phone, “Is it even early?” 

His free arm that had been tucked below his pillow flings out to the bedside table quickly, grabbing blindly for at least one of your phones. It doesn’t really matter if it’s yours or his; he’s got the password to both. 

“It’s eight in the fucking morning,” he curses, seeming more awake as he notices that he was right in it being early. “How in the fuck is anyone up right now? We didn’t leave until nearly three.”

His arm is finally loose enough for you to sit up properly, tugging the comforter with you to keep your bare chest covered, “Lemme see it.” 

“If it’s Harrington, can you post my bail for murder?” 

“You’re not killing Steve,” you nonchalantly reply as you snatch the phone right out of his hand. It had been yours, unsurprisingly. You don’t even know if Eddie remembered to put his own phone on the charger before the two of you had promptly passed out. You hardly even remember how you managed to do so, “But – yeah, it’s Steve.” 

“Fucking Harringt-”

“And Robin. And Jonathan.” 

“Have I mentioned I hate our friends?” 

The fog of sleep has officially lifted for you, and despite the wave of fatigue and aching joints you’d argue you’re far too young to be experiencing right now, you smile at your grumpy boyfriend. He exchanges his pillow for your stomach, shoving his entire cheek tightly to you as his arms wrap around you slowly. Clinging to you like a child, squinting against what little light pours in through the curtains. 

“You don’t hate them,” you murmur, holding the phone in one hand to get a better look at the phone as the other cards through his curls, “You hate mornings.” 

He hmphs in agreement, relaxing against your makeshift scalp massage. 

DINGUS: WHY THE FUCK IS THERE A PHOTO OF ME WITH A SNAKE IN THIS CHAT? 

BIRDIE: it is too early to be yelling

DINGUS: oh my bad

DINGUS: WHY THE FUCK DID YOU, ROBIN, SEND A PHOTO OF A SNAKE IN THIS FUCKING CHAT? WHO’S FUCKING SNAKE IS THAT?

You can’t help the gasp that leaves your mouth as you begin to see what the entire commotion was, and Eddie is lifting his head immediately.

“What?” he questions, moving to lift himself up and peer over the top of the phone, nosier than ever, “Why did you gasp? Is someone dead?” 

You scroll up, finding the photo being referred to.

“Not yet.” 

Steve, clearly partaking in another round of karaoke. Eyes glazed over, mid stumble based on the blur. 

“What do you mean not yet?” 

Most impressively, most notably, is the snake around his neck. 

Lestat, without a care in the world, his upper body being cradled by Steve’s palm as your drunk friend appears to be serenading the snake. 

You bite back your smile, eyebrows high as you glance down at Eddie, “You remember when we let Steve sing Taylor Swift while holding Lestat? About… two and a half drinks after he finally noticed we had him, and he didn’t flip out courtesy to all that Absolute vodka?” 

“Oh, fuck me.” 

Eddie flings himself back to the edge of the bed in search of his phone just as another notification pings. 

JOHNNY: I’ll do you one better. I have a video.

You don’t know if you’ve ever watched Eddie excitedly type on his phone faster than he does once he’s read that message, already giggling like a fool long before you can see what he’s sent in the chat. 

LOVER BOY: Johnny, my boy, you can’t just say that and NOT send it.

JOHNNY: Unlike you, I don’t have a death wish. 

DINGUS: WHO’S FUCKING SNAKE WAS IT? IS IT EDDIE’S? 

YOU: i will not stand for this erasure of me as lestat’s mother. 

Eddie snorts and looks up at you with glee as he reads your response, “He’s going to kill us, isn’t he?” 

“Can we be buried next to each other?” you respond with a question instead, looking at him lazily, “We could have matching headstones.” 

“Oh, hell yeah,” his grin is worth whatever Hell there may come to pay with Steve and the Lestat debacle last night, “Should we look up designs or-” 

He’s cut off by the trill ringing of his own phone, watching several messages roll into the groupchat in quick succession. 

DINGUS: who the fuck is lestat?

BIRDIE: the snake, dingus. 

NANCE: As someone who has seen the video… I think Jonathan should send it. 

DINGUS: DON’T YOU DARE

You’re a mess of hoarse giggles, hardly able to look at Eddie for the fear of both of you descending right into a madness of laughter. Like two children staying up too late at a sleepover, the room rings out with all your little noises, Eddie propping up his chin to watch you with the widest of smiles. 

Except you’re not children – you’re just two idiots, in your shared apartment, with your shared snake in the living room and your shared friends blowing up both your phones. 

Mornings have never felt quite as sweet as this kind. 

“We’re gonna hear an earful next time he sees us, aren’t we?” Eddie finally sighs wistfully, rolling over flat on his back, head propped up slightly in your lap. 

“Oh, definitely,” you nod, taking to twirling his frizzed curls around your knuckles this time rather than scratching mindlessly at his scalp, “But who cares? You saw how in love with the snake he was after a few drinks. He’ll come around, sober this time.”

Eddie doesn’t reply, eyes fluttering shut. 

You let the two of you sit in the quiet a bit longer, phones still buzzing with new messages, but the chaos can wait. For now, you just want to drink it in. Rays of vivid sunlight, the silence from the lack of the buzzing AC unit, the birds chirping annoyingly outside the window. You have one foot in relaxation, and one foot in the hangover you know you’ll have to battle once you choose to leave this bed. 

“You know what sounds good?” you question, nearly under your breath. You’re really thinking outloud more than anything, but Eddie still entertains you with a hum in his tired state, “Betty’s.” 

He’s the equivalent of a puppy dog who’s heard the word walk. One second, Eddie Munson is seemingly dead to the world, and the next, he’s perked up entirely. If it wasn’t for his nude state, he’d probably already be out the door with his keys in hand, dragging you right along with him. 

His eyes shimmer despite heavy lids as he asks, “Almond croissants?” 

A small nod, an ever present smile. You recall the conversation from the night before as you look into those deep russet eyes, and you see an entire future of late nights and almond croissants reflected back. 

“Almond croissants.”

[red5tars]

minors + ageless blogs dni or you will be blocked.

“could i... perhaps.... indulge you on bear hybrid price... and breeding kink. but not like, just stuffing you full, i'm talking round of his seed just overflowing... 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️” - ask from anon

oh boy..

bunny!reader who stumbles across a beautiful patch in the forest. it’s a nice set up, lush greenery, some flowers to nibble and admire, and a stream that provides plenty of water.

and most importantly, the land is empty. no predators, or prey. just your cute little cottontail and no one else.

it quickly becomes your home, spending your days laying down in the shrubbery, skipping by the stream, and eating your fill in plants. a perfect routine you plan on sticking to until you die.

at least, that’s what you thought it would be like, until you found out why this patch was so empty.

it happens on a rainy day, and while the feeling of water running down your fur and skin is enjoyable, the downpour is harsh today. in need of shelter, you quickly seek out the nearest cave, finding one hidden in plain sight. it’s covered by vines and moss, blending into the greenery. thankfully, you’re able to pick out such things, it’s how you found this place after all.

stepping inside, you realize how dark and cold it is, a shiver making your ears stand up. at the very least, you wouldn’t have to be here for more than a few hours. what’s the worse that could happen?

it seems the answer chuffs behind you, a growl making your body stiffen.

as you turn your head over your shoulder, your met with the grizzly sight of a large bear hybrid. your ears drop, fear running through you as the beast stares you down.

“anyone ever told you about trespassing, bun?” he asks, his deep voice rattling your bones.

somehow, you manage to shake your head, stammering, “i-i didn’t know this was.. i thought.. i-“

“thought wha’, hm?” he asks, his tone bordering on condescending, “thought this little patch was yours for the taking,” there’s a hint of smile in his tone, and you see it as he emerges from the shadows.

with every step he takes forward, you take one back, hoping to reach the entrance of the cave.

“n-no,” it comes out naturally, a defensive response. the bear just chuckles, shaking his head.

“oh bunny.. poor stupid bunny,” the dim light from outside glints against his fangs, canines that are waiting to be sunk into your flesh.

“everything in this little section of the forest is mine, from the trees,“ he gestured above your head, but you don’t dare turn around. it would be unwise to give him an opening.

“the grass, and even the little stream like you to hop in,” a chill runs down your spine. it never occurred to you he was watching, eying his next meal.

with one more step, you find yourself close to the entrance. but it seems he redirected your path, feeling the hard wall of the cave hit you instead of the rain’s humidity.

his whole body cages you, keeping trapped.

“and now.. you do too.”

——

you knew he was going to devour you, just not like this.

the bear, price, has you pinned down with an arm on your lower back, stomach glued to the cold floor as his tongue glides up and down your slick cunt.

even with his weight on you, your instincts scream at you to move. to run away and never look back.

“quit yer squirming, bun,” price commands, growls. the low timbre of his voice adds vibrations to your pussy, causing you to do the opposite of what he said. a quiet squeal leaves your lips, ears stretched far back behind you in embarrassment.

even though you defied a direct order, he doesn’t punish you. instead, he goes back to eating it, eating you, your sopping wet cunt.

you can’t even recall how you got into this position, all you remember is the bear claiming you as his, telling you his name, and then wrestling you down into the floor.

..so maybe you can recall how you got here.

after another agony of his long licks, price pulls away from your cunt. it’s completely drenched in his spit, and you bet it smells more like his mouth than you.

“think you’re ready now,” he grunts, and despite the haze his tongue has placed you in, alarm bells ring in your head again. swiftly, you manage to turn, eyes wide, “r-ready for wha-“

your question is cut off as something big is shoved inside of you, your meek voice shifting into something closer to a scream.

just like everything about him, it’s big. it feels like he’s burrowing himself inside you, which is ironic considering his species. it’s just all too much far too quickly.

“p-price pull out pl-please,” you beg, and not even the earlier pleasure can outdo the pain. but he doesn’t pull out. in fact, it seems your pleading spurs him on, trying to shove even more (was there more?!) of himself inside of you.

“can’t do that bun,” he huffs, squishing your cottontail as he practically rests his full weight on you, “gotta claim you.”

and with that, he moves.

it’s brutal, the way he slams home into your tight pussy. it’s almost like being stabbed, except the blade is thicker and more meaty and not a blade at all but probably the fattest cock you’ve ever felt-

it seems price can pick up on your pain, tasting it on his tongue (amongst other things). with one hand, he manages to cant your hips, snaking a paw in between them.

“being too mean, aren’t i?” he says almost effortlessly, not a hint of strain in his voice despite the robust movement of his hips, “soft thing like you isn’t used to this type of breeding..”

as a sign of mercy, his fingers play with your clit, pinching and rubbing the bud.

and oh, does that help.

instead of focusing on the harsh piston of his hips, he offers pleasure, toying with your little button, rolling it between his fingers, putting enough pressure to have you squeaking.

it pulls sounds out of you that you never knew you could make and sentences that consist of pleasepleaseplease and moremoremore.

it seems price revels in your enjoyment too, grunting harder as your insides clench on his length with a vice-like grip.

“yeah? you like that, bun? you always turn into a slut when someone flicks that little button of yours? hm?”

despite his patronizing tone, you’re unable to deny his claims. instead, you meet his questions with moans, turning into what he describes as a cock-focused cottontail slut.

before long, the warmth in your stomach erupts like a dormant volcano, making you clench his cock in a vice-like grip. your orgasm shakes you, body rigid as you come undone under this predator.

it seems he wasn’t far along either, as price buries his face into the back of your neck, pressing himself to the hilt as a massive load of his cum spills inside you.

it’s hot and thick, making sure not to just coat your insides but also fill it. you half expect him to pull out, but price just stays sheathed inside you.

it isn’t until you feel your womb is going to burst that you finally speak up, “um.. i.. i think you should.. p-pull out..” you whimper, having to actively search for words instead of fall deeper into this haze of lust.

but it’s rare for predators to spare mercy, even rarer for them to do it twice.

“no can do bun, see” and he completely drops his weight onto you, a quiet oof exhaling from you at this, “i was pretty lonely before you showed up, and it’s been near ages since i had a mate..”

as he explains himself, you can feel his cock coming back to life, practically keep all his cum plugged deep inside of you.

“and when you wandered into my territory, i knew i had to have you,” his hips move shallowly, barely separating from you. “had to make you mine,” at this, a moan leaves your lips while a deep chuckle escapes his.

“attagirl. now,” he curls an arm under your waist, palming at your soft belly, “jus’ lie there while i make you fat with my cubs, okay bunny?”

[yuvany]

CORPSE BRIDE ft PARK SUNGHOON

SYNOPSIS : Sunghoon finds himself in a sticky situation, yearning to return to where he came from; the land of the living and be married to the one he feels his heart beating for..

CONTENT WARNINGS : unrequited love + angst + weapons + none of these character pairing (wony and hoon) are relavant to shipping, but just a choice of characters + blood + skeletons + graveyards + kidnapping + slight body horror description + fights

ACTORS : ENHYPEN SUNGHOON x corpse bride!FEMALE READER — side characters ; wonyoung as Victoria, Gaeul as Scraps

WORD COUNT : 4379

SUNGHOON DIDN'T MEAN TO RUN AWAY, and nor did he mean to meet you. He was simply just too nervous for the wedding his parents had set him up for. Sunghoon messed up his vows and set someone's attire on fire, but most embarrasing of all, he left his soon-to-be-bride alone and went into the woods to collect his mind and go over what he seemed to have rehearsed once too many times, but still gotten it wrong. It wasn't that Wonyoung, the girl he'd marry, was any wrong, if anything she was all everyone would want.

The dark woods where he found himself walking into was filled with tree branches sticking and poking out abnormally, and moss seeming to cover each and every stone he walked by. Slowly, he began to mutter the vows, "With this hand, I will...I will..." He gives it a second go. "With this hand I empty your cup. No that's not it." Sunghoon gets it wrong again and the crows that previously hid seemed to come alive now, causing commotion in the tree crowns while he continues to try to get his vows right, the bright moon now shining through the rustling leaves of the forest. "With this hand, I lift your sorrows. Your cup will never empty, I will be your wine." The sound of crows cawing becomes more insisting and demanding, encouraging Sunghoon to continue due to the new-found audience. "With this candle, I will light your way in darkness...with this ring..." He pulls out the ring from his pocket and looks at it for a second before kneeling down on one knee and propping the ring on a crooked root that extended from the ground. "...I ask you to be mine!"

The life from the forest had seemed to die in an instant, Sunghoon looks up at the quiet crows before attempting to pull the ring off the ring that had previously moved, but it manages to grab him around the wrist first. Just like that, he pulled himself free, pulling other roots along with him. While he is sprawled on the ground, he sees that the root has become a skeletal hand clamping around his wrist once more. Sunghoon exclaims in horror and shoves it away, and sees the ground in front of him split open, revealing a figure with a tattered and old wedding dress wearing his ring. "You may kiss the bride!" You cheer, but Sunghoon scrambles backwards, pushing and hitting leaves and roots while he tries to frantically escape. He makes his way through a graveyard and through the forest until he finds ease by the bridge, finally stoping to catch his breath, but when he turns around and sees you approaching him, and he is frozen in terror, letting you and the crows come close and encircle him.

The crows finally seemed to fly away and as Sunghoon looks around, all he sees are the misshapen buildings and totally different atmosphare from the last. "You were wonderful! So passionate. It was everything I dreamed of!" You exclaim giddily while a Black Widow climbs down your veil and shoots a web at Sunghoon when he takes a step back. "Now, dear, where do you think you're going?" Then an old maggot pops out of your eye, and you pop it right back in after it says, "I don't like him, he's creepy." The irony makes the situation all too hillarious, but scaring to Sunghoon who's still dizzy in the head from how sudden everything has changed.

"Oh Sunghoon! I can't wait for you to meet everyone!" You cheer excitedly. "How...how do you know my name?" He asks, hesitant, his knees quivering as he stands behind you. "You think I'd marry a stranger? Come one!" You grab him by the hand, pulling his sloppy body behind yours. You take him to the town squere while Sunghoon does his best to try to get help and get back to where he came from. He calls out, "Help! You have to help me, I've been kidnapped by . . . " before he finishes his sentence, the passer-by turns around to reveal that he is also a corspe. "...the dead." He mutters the last part unenthustiastically and recoils in horror. "He's a fresh one." Someone comments. "He's still soft." Another ones inquires, poking at Sunghoon with a stick. Everyone gathers around to observe the human.

"He's my husband. He gave me this ring!" You show it off to everyone proudly, your arm extended out and the crowd cheered and awes at the sight. Sunghoon gets overwhelmed by this, someone eagerly shakes his hand and makes a comment on how it stayed, then someone else figured put that he was breathing, fortunately, and getting close enough to hear his panting. "Oh please, leave him alone. He's only just arrived." You interrupt and turn to Sunghoon, your left eye popping out in the process and reveals the maggot from before. "We saw the whole wedding. It was romantic!" The green coloured being recalls, and from behind, the Black Widow appears again. "He reminds me of my third, seventh, twenty-fourth, and sixtythird husbands." "Before you ate them?" The maggot asks. "There was one thing missing though. He forgot to kiss the bride." Upon hearing what the maggot said, the crowd errupted in chants like highschool boys before a match in the locker rooms, and you giggle at this, hearing them chanting, "Kiss her! Kiss her!" This all still seems so surrel to Sunghoon, and he feels his eyelids shut and his knees buckle before it turns black.

Sunghoon wakes up and finds himself in some sort of pub with green flames lighting up the place, and in his field of vision, he sees skeletons leaning over him. "Have a drink dear boy." The waiter says, his head peeking through the fire and only his head is visible. He slides Sunghoon a glass before greeting you. While you mingle and spark conversations, Sunghoon waits there with wide eyes and horror as he inspects the area. He sees a band of corpses playing on some exotic instruments made of bones and scraps, and he also sees someone playing chess with a sword through his chest, and someone's jaw snaps and falls into someone else's bowl. Sunghoon feels like he's about to snap again, his knees feel restless like they want to run away and his palms are coated with glistering sweat. When no one's looking, Sunghoon finds the perfect opportunity to stand up and grabs the sword that had pierced one of the skeletons before, his sudden confidence and action caused everyone to stop what they were doing, and now they were looking at him in shock.

"Keep away! I have a ... Dwarf, and I'm not afraid to use him!! I want some questions! Now!" Sunghoon's hands are shaking and the nervousity is evident in his stance and voice. "Answers. I think you mean answers." Someone else corrects him. "Thank you, yes, answers. I need answers! Where am I? Why am I here? And who is she?!" Sunghoon calls out.

The lights suddenly dims and a spot light shines on the stage. "Since you're askin' . . . Hit it boys!" Someone on stage snapped his fingers and they began singing and dancing. After the show took a pause, Sunghoon uttered, "Pardon me, fellows, i''m going to be sick." Then they returned to singing again, and the cook hit the singer with her ladle.

The pud seemed so alive even though everyone here, excluding Sunghoon was dead. You plant a big kiss on his cheek after the song ends, leaving Sunghoon totally stunned.

You and Sunghoon were led to a table that was romantically lit by a single candle that created a comfortable atmosphare. "Dead! Demise...expired..." Sunghoon sprouted out of frustration. Then the head chef, named Paul, comes forward and speaks with a thick and clear accent. He asks if Sunghoon has any allgeriges, and he says, "Not that it matters anymore. Being that I kicked the bucket. Shuffled off this mortal coil." He says disheartened. In front of him, both you and Paul exchange awkward glances. "Young man, you are confused. You're not dead. You're just married!" Paul says, trying to cheer him up, but Sunghoon looks like he's had enough. "Very funny." "No, really. It's true." You say, and holds his hand above the candle on the table which makes him yelp out in pain. "Feel better?" You ask sincerily. Sunghoon rubs his hand and answers, "That hurt. But wait...that must mean...I'm still alive. I'm alive!" For the first time ever since he spoke his vows he seemed happy. The chef is annoyed by this, but you smile along with Sunghoon, happy that he is finally happy.

"But how can a living person marry a dead person?" He asks. "By making a vow! Which you did!" You say, smiling through it all. "But I'm already supposed to marry Wonyoung." "I'm sure she'll get over it. There's a lot of living people." You can sense how Sunghoon isn't trusting you yet.

"This Wonyoung. Did you love her?" You ask. "i never got the chance to find out. Truth is, we hardly know each other." Sunghoon sulks. "The thing is, Sunghoon, I know a lot about you. i've watched you wandering around the forest...sketching." Sunghoon perks an eyebrow at this and asks, "What? when?" "Haven't you ever felt like you weren't alone, even when you were? Or saw something out of the corner of your eye and turned and it wasn't there?" you ask and he nods. "It was me" You see how he finally relaxes and is deeply moved by this for some reason.

"We live in two different worlds, but they overlap sometimes. I think we're meant to find each other." You say. "i don't even know your name." he argues, his eyebrows are visibly knitted together as his eyes wander all over the place. "I can't believe I forgot to tell you my name...in all this excitement. My name is y/n." "I also have a little wedding gift for you." You whispered through your bony fingers and out comes a skeleton dog that rushes over to the table with its tail wagging happily. "Gaeul! My dog!" Sunghoon cheers after reading the name tag, happy to see her after a long time of being separated. Gaeul jumps up on his lap and licks him on the face. "I knew you'd be happy to see her." As you say that, the dog jumps up on the table and causes a ruckus that mkaes even the cook from earlier to interupt. "Who let that horried beast in here?" the cook exclaims in horror, her laddle waving at the dog. "He came in with the dog." Paul, the waiter, from before remarks, his eyes finding Sunghoon's. "I'm afraid he is mine. I mean was. Gaeul was my dog when I was a little boy." "Keep him out of my kitchen! Who knows where he's been." The cook cuts him off while he reminisce. The small canine friend jumps onto his lap happily while she barks.

"What a cutie." You say. "You should've seen her with fur." Sunghoon replied, while petting Gaeul. "Mother never approved of her jumping up like this. But yet again, she never approved of anything." Sunghoon sulks at the memory. "Do you think she'd approve of me?" You ask curiously. Sunghoon mocks a light of happiness and tells you, "Well, actually...now that you mentioned it, I think she would. Yes!I do believe she would. In fact, since we're m...married...you should meet her! And my father too. You should meet both my parents!" he awaits your reaction nervously. "What a fantastic idea! Let's go find them. Where are they buried?" You ask enthustiastically. "Oh, there's one slight problem..." Sunghoon whispers. "What is it?" "They're not from around here." You ask him where they are, and Sunghoon points his finger up indicating that they are still alive and breathing.

You take him to an elderly who helped creating a potion that took him and you back to the living world. You both pop up in a cementray in the night while it all had become gray again. You take a moment to yourself, missing the moonlight, so you dance under the trees, catching his full attention as your dress resembled smoke. You took a deep breath in and asked him which house was his. Sunghoon takes a moment and points to one on the right, which isn't his own home, but Wonyoung's. "Why don't I go first to prepare things?" He lies, and you trust him. After Sunghoon had ran away in the dark, the maggot and black widow appears again. Complementing her by how immensly trusting she is, but with a backhanded meaning to their words.

You now think about the situation. Sunghoon is here, in the living world, where he had mentioned a girl he was suppose to marry. With determination, you followed the path Sunghoon had previously taken. You climb up the balcony, hearing voices. "Sunghoon, what's wrong?" You hear a young female voice ask. "I seem to have found myself married. And you should know it is unexpected." He replies hesitantly. You push yousefl up at last, accidentally detaching your leg in the process. "Oh dear, and I did so want to make a good impression! I couldn't wait, darling. I wanted to meet …" Your tone sounded cherry at the start but gradually lost its light after looking up post fixing your leg. You see Wonyoung standing in front of you. Upon seeing this, you wrap one of your arms around Sunghoon's.

"Darling. Who is this?" You sneer at her. "Sunghoon! Who...What is this?" Wonyoung says horrified when she sees the ring on your finger. Sunghoon's head turns to you then Wonyoung once too many times. "Wonyoung, wait you don't understand! I can assure you it is not what you think- She's dead! Look!" He takes your boney arm and flaps it back and forth causing Wonyoung to scream. "Who is she?" You ask. "Yang Wonyoung. The girl I'm supposed to marry." Sunghoon admits. Suddenly the sound of loud banging is heard from through the door and muffled voices are heard yelling.

"You tricked me!" You say aggravated and grab his tightly, saying the word that the elder had told you to say if you wanted to return back to where you came from. Sunghoon panicks and yells for Wonyoung to save him.

"YOU LIED TO ME! Just to get back to that other woman!" You shout, your eyebrows knitted with anger. "Don't you understand. You are the other woman." Sunghoon says saddened, causing your heart to shatter. "No! You're married to me! She's the other woman!" Your hectic movements came to a halt as you wrapped your face with your bont hands and began to cry, Sunghoon is unsure of what to do and stands there awkwardly. The force of yoru tears makes your eye escape the socket, and with no other choice, Sunghoon picks it up and hands it to you again. "Look, I'm sorry....this just can't work." Sunghoon points out the elephant in the room that wasn't that obvious to you. "Why not? It's my eye isn't it?" You ask while putting it back in. "No...your eye is fine." "Really?" Your mood elevated and now you were looking at him lovetsruck again.

"Yes. Listen under different circumstances, well, who knows. But, we are just too different. I mean you're dead." He accentuates. "You should've thought about that before you asked me to marry you." You pout. "Why can't you understand? I'd never marry you!" The words struck you through the chest as if leavening a stinging sensation blooming in your chest. The words were sharp and they hurt you in ways you didn't expect Sunghoon to do. Instead of lashing out at him, you just hang your head down and turn around to walk out the elder's study, leaving Sunghoon feeling like sore thumb.

As you walk away with your head hung low, you pick up your old and dried wedding bouquet and name a couple of flowers, your sadness represented in your tone. Sunghoon can do nothing but watch as you walk away. Your two companions, the Black Window and Maggot are perched on your shoulders like birds as they tell you that Sunghoon isn't someone worth your precious mind and tears, in hopes to cheer you up.

Sunghoon walks up to you in the restaurant with the bouqet in hand, his steps are cautious in the still envirounment. "I think you dropped this..." He whispers, approaching closer and closer to you who is playing with the piano. You don't need to spare him or the flowers a glance before snatching them. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I lied to you about wanting to meet my parents. Truth is, I'm happier not to see them." he apologises, but you don't turn around nor acknowledge his attendance. The green maggot pops out once more. "Oh! Save it for the living girls, Hoon. I think you've said quite enough already." He comments.

"I never meant to-" Sunghoon gets cut off by the Black Widow appearing once again. "I've had dozens of husbands, none as awful as you. You should be ashamed!" She snarls, her legs waving hysrerically, pointing to him. "But I..." The Maggot is not early to cut him off again and says, "You're married now and there's nothing anyone can do about it. You might as well get used to it." It sounds harsh, but deep down, Sunghoon knows and understands where it's coming from.

"Don't bother, you can't force him to like me." You sulk, your back hunched. "But I do like you. Truly. It's just this evening hasn't exactly been going accoding to...plan." Sunghoon says awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. It is quiet for a while, so quiet that you'd hear a pin drop.

Sunghoon takes a seat on the chair beside you and begings playing on the piano with you. You paus and sneer at him before continuing. It continues like that, Sunghoon improvising and turning this to a duet. The melody is bitterweet yet loving, a tune for only the two of you. Gradually, you open up more, taking the spotlight for a riff, your hand popping off from your wrist and slides across the keys. You pick it up with a giggle. "Pardon my enthusiasm." "I like your enthusiasm."

IN THE VILLAGE SQUERE, spirits and skeletons are gathered with newfound energy to party. Sunghoon looks at the tear of his jacket, and before he can stare at it any longer, Black Widow appears and sews it up again, making it seem like a new jack. All the commotion is interupted by a 'newcomer'. Everyone is eager to see who it is, and Sunghoon almost immedietly calls out for the familiar figure. After chit-chatting with him, Sunghoon learns that Wonyoung is to be married with none other than Heeseung, one of the closest people to his family. Not too far away, you observe his reaction with your eyebrows knitted.

The decorations are set and everyone is cheering and celebrating. You happened to find an elder and speaks with him for a while about marriages. He tells you how it was back in his days when vows where simple and got done with rather quickly after you mentioned how quick yours and Victors were. "Lucky for me, I didn't have to! I was rather silent!" You joke, and when you look at him again, he is dead silent, not moving at all. "Excuse me?" He asks. "I was rather silent?" You repeat, now a lot more hesitant and unsure. "You didn't say your vows?" You shake your head. "My child, you muct both say the vows for the marriage to be binding." The air is still as you stare at each other. You had accidenatlly tricked Sunghoon this whole time, and now you were afraid he'd know about this and run away.

"Surely there's some way to fix this?" You're desperate to get an answer now. "You'll have to complete the cermony by saying your vows." "I'll say them right now!" Your breath is caught in your air way as you choke this out only for the elder to shake his head. He tells you that since the original cermony occured in the land of the living, your vows will need to be in the land of the living as well. Your bones are shaking and you can't bear to hear someone else tell you to be 'reasonable'. If you want to go to the living world, then so be it, but you don't want him to tell you that maybe the two of you weren't meant to be. You wanted to cry out of anger, it was as if nothing you ever desired would land in your arms easily. You have had enough of this.

"Listen up people! Listen up! There's a change of venue! Grab what you can and follow me! We're moving this party." Everyone cheers in excitement, but the elder has a look of concern on his face. While on the way, people rocket quesntions your way, and you ramble out an answer in an instant, not wanting to seem suspicious to Sunghoon in any way.

IN THE WORLD OF THE LIVING You and Sunghoon are close like a set. It is all well and the elder flips through a book as you and Sunghoon joing him for the ceremony. "Let's get straight to the vows. Living first." He bows to Sunghoon. You slip the ring off your finger and place it in his palm, he smiles at you, and you smile back, but there's a piece of guilt in your heart. After he finishes his vows, putting the ring back on your finger, the elder motions for you to say your vows. You take a deep breath in and began to speak, but half-way through you spot a familiar face hiding in the courner of the place, horror written on her face, it was Wonyoung.

"I can't" You pause. "What's wrong?" Sunghoon asks confused. "This is wrong." You let a tear roll down your cold cheek. Once again, you pull the ring off your finger. As you look at him you recall the desperate moments you shared with Sunghoon, it was embarrasing to think that this could be; the living and the dead. It all added up likes puzzle pieces and you were finally ready to accept the truth that stung so badly, leaving a permanent scar deep, deep within the old ones that are yet to heal.

"I LOVE YOU, Sunghoon, but you're not mine. My dreams were stolen from me, and now I've taken them from someone else." You look over at where you had seen the young lady, Wonyoung, before, and Sunghoon does so too. "Wonyoung!" he whispers to himself at the sight. Upon being the new centre of attention, you ask Wonyoung to come forward, and she does. You take her hand in yours, and asks Sunghoon for his as well. You gently place his on top of her hers, happy for them to finally be reunited. "Oh, how touching. I always cry at weddings." Another familiar voice calls out, and everyone looks over at the gate to reveal Heeseung causing the trio to gasp. "Our young lovers together at least. Surely now they can live happily ever after." He walks upp to the altar and grabs Wonyoung by the wirst, succesfully snatching her away from you two.

"you." you whisper, your pupils shrinking at the horrid sight. "y/n?" He echoes, equally as shocked. "You!" you repeat angered. "but-but, I left you" He stutters, and you finish his sentence, "for dead." This statement causes everyone in the crowd to gasp. Heeseung does his best to escape, even pulling a sword from someone's body only to first aim it at Wonyoung's throat and then at Sunghoon who challenge him to a duel. It is an intense chase of cat and mouse before Sunghoon gets knocked down on the floor, the sword aimed at his face. Heeseung doesn't hesitate to strike his sword at him, and you don't hesitate either to come in between, grebbing the sword that had stuck in between your ribs. You pulled it out and aimed it at him.

"get out." you ordered him. "Oh, I'm leaving." he says, walking up to the altar and grabbing a cup from the table all whilst you're still on guard. "But first, a toast to y/n!" he says raising his cup with red liquid. "Always the bridesmaid, never the bride. Tell me, my dear, can a heart still break once it stopped beating? hmm?" His words are harsh, leaving yet another scar. You silenly watch as he takes a gulp of the cup which he thinks is wine, but is actually poision, and he dies just before he manages to get out of the building.

While the rest of the corpses takes care of the now dead Heeseung, Sunghoon and Wonyoung are snuggled together. "I never thought I'd see you again." You walk away, not wanting to disturb their moment until you hear the male voice call out for you to wait. "I made a promise." He says, chasing behind you. "you kept your promise. you set me free. Now, I can do the same for you." You say one last time, pulling the ring off your finger and encaving it in his palm by clasping yours around his before turning around. The tears are eager to escape, but you wont let them, not now at least. With one last glace behind, your throw the bouquet in your grasp to the newly made couple with a smile before you stepped out in the bright moonlight. The second it hits your veil, it began to crumble and turn into small butterlies and just like that, you disappeared with no regrets.

TAGLIST : @dollyhoon @itjengirl @saeivra @orimuraa @pshwrldd

[hollowdeath]

Thank god, another Harry Potter lover! 👓⚡️He really deserves more love! ❤️ That’s why I imagine him and the reader settling in a cottage by the sea or lake (you decide) to heal from the Wizarding War. They find comfort and solace in each other, and yes that includes countless lovemaking. 🥰 It’s just the two of them, so they’re free to express their love whenever and wherever they want. They especially enjoy making love on the shore under the stars after a swim, by the fireplace on a soft blanket, and in the bathtub surrounded by candles. They just need to feel and hold each other to remind themselves that everything’s okay now. You can do whatever you want with this, I just wanted to put it out there. Take care!

thank you so much for this request, i fell in love with it as soon as you sent it! i hope you enjoy!

pairing: harry james potter x fem!reader (18+)

summary: you & harry have moved away from everything & everyone to a remote cottage where the forest meets the sea. all harry wants after everything he's been through is to find peace, & he finds it in you.

c/w: smut!!! oral sex, penetration, rough sex

word count: 7.3k

harry was up early. he was watching the kettle boil on the gas stove in front of him, enjoying the warmth coming off of it, letting himself relax for just a moment. the steam from the water enveloped his face and felt nice. it was so chilly this morning. the windows were fogged over from the fire raving inside the stove, the wind whistling through the walls of the cottage.

the cottage was beautiful, harry couldn't deny it, though he could do with a bit more insulation. the raw, exposed stone walls were charming, and the moss and vines growing on the outside were something out of a fairy tale, but the fire needed to be fed every hour or so most of the day for at least half of the year or else it dropped below freezing inside. however, luckily, harry came to find wood chopping and trimming to be extremely therapeutic. just him, a sharp ax, and acres of woodlands to explore.

that was another thing harry could never deny about this property: the land was worth every penny. it's not often you find such a stunning cottage sitting on the border between a local forest and, what was essentially, a private beach on the north sea. the beach stretched at least a mile, but was obscured by the trees just behind the cottage. the land wasn't cheap, but harry was ready and extremely eager to spend whatever it took to finally get away from everything, live a simple life, and be alone.

alone with you, that is.

you and harry had gone to school together until the war, but eventually ended up reconnecting and began casually dating just over 2 years ago. since then you and harry had found complete solace in each other, both suffering from the negative side effects of witnessing and experiencing the war firsthand and supporting each other through difficult times. you were mostly struggling with paranoia and anxiety, and were actually the first to suggest getting a place together away from everyone else. you thought it would help if you were out of reach, isolated from the world, practically invisible from all danger.

harry, of course, was utterly haunted by the events of the war, and everything leading up to it. he gets angry at the world, has bouts of depression, deals with monumental grief and guilt, and has chronic, clinical sleep issues caused by nightmares. which is, ironically, the exact reason he's awake so early right now.

as he's pouring the boiling water out of the kettle and over a tea bag, harry can feel his eyelids fighting to stay open. he's barely slept this week, and he's starting to feel the effects of it. he's lightheaded, detached, and just wants to rest.

as he's walking to the front porch, mug in hand, harry takes a moment to pause in the doorway of your master bedroom and admire you. sleeping, surrounded by white cotton comforters, drowning in pillows, your hair wildly framing your peaceful face. he just stays there for a while, leaning against the doorframe, watching. he often watches you sleep when he can't himself. it brings him relief knowing you can get the rest you need.

before he heads outside harry slips on his favorite quarter zip. as he's sitting on the stairs outside, he admires the sound of the waves crashing just a few hundred or so yards away from him. he finishes his hot cup of tea, closes his eyes and lets himself sit in the cold waves of the wind. it's nice. like sleeping without the nightmares.

the moment is short lived as he hears the door creak open behind him. he looks back, and is in disbelief at how beautiful you look just waking up. a nightdress that barely covers anything at all draping around your shoulders, messy bed hair, sleepy eyes and a smile as you stand with the door cracked open, admiring harry in return.

"morning," you say simply, your voice still soft and hoarse from sleeping. harry smiles at you with soft and loving eyes. you walk towards him and let the door close behind you as you cuddle up next to harry on the stairs.

you don't seem to mind the chill in the air. your exposed skin is still hot from the fire burning inside. you lean your head on harry's shoulder, reaching for his mug, seeing there's nothing left, and leaving the mug in his hands. harry's chest hums as he chuckles. "would you like some? kettle's still warm," he asks.

you shake your head. you want to stay right here with harry in this moment.

the sea is so beautiful at this time of the morning. the sun was up, but only just barely above the horizon. no clouds, no birds, just the waves and the wind carrying their breeze.

speaking of breeze, you begin to shiver the longer you're out there in only a sleep dress. you still want to stay with harry, enjoying the view with him, but he notices you shaking.

"darling, let's get you inside,"

harry sits you in front of the stove and opens the small latch, letting the door stay open as you attempt to warm your hands. harry feeds the fire and rearranges the coals to make it burn hotter for you. after a minute or so, he also slips off his quarter zip and pulls it over your torso, smiling to himself at just how big it looks on you.

you find yourself finally starting to warm up, your toes burying themselves into the fur rug you're sitting on. after harry pours you a cup of tea, he joins you next to the fire. "thank you," you tell him with a smile, eagerly taking a sip of the warm drink.

harry's arm wraps around you and he watches the fire as you continue to sip your tea, enjoying the feeling of it warming you up from the inside.

you relish this moment with harry. since moving here barely a month ago, you've grown so fond of these smaller moments throughout the day with him. watching the scenery, watching the fire, sitting in comfortable silence, sharing a kettle of tea in the morning and afternoon, simply enjoying each other's company and the peace you've created for yourselves. it was one of your favorite parts about settling into this little slice of life.

and, of course, there was all the alone time.

while living with harry at grimmauld place was lovely, there was never truly a moment alone with him there. you had your own room with locked doors, but could hear someone walking, talking, cooking, always something in the background.

here, you were completely alone. a lot of people might find this situation to be even more terrifying, being so far away from everything, but you both agreed the isolation made you feel safer. safe from death eaters, safe from drama, safe from other people.

the safety from being so alone out here also meant that you and harry could be vulnerable with each other 24/7. you never had to put on a face or pretend things were okay if they weren't. if harry had nightmares, he could make some tea and enjoy a moment outside alone without anyone trying to psychoanalyze him. if you wanted to lay in bed until it was dark out again, harry wasn't going to judge you for it.

that vulnerability spread into other parts of your life as well.

you set your mug down next to the fire and turned towards harry who's already watching you as you admire his blue eyes, bloodshot from barely sleeping last night, or the night before. you take his face in your hands and just hold him for a moment, feeling him lean into your touch as his eyes flutter close. "i love you, harry," you say just above a whisper, breaking the comfortable silence.

harry looks up at you, but his eyes are now full of lust. you barely have a moment to process what's going on before harry leans in for a gentle, wanting kiss.

harry's always so soft with you despite his clearly strong desire. you've never been with someone who wanted you so bad no matter how many times you've been with them. everything with harry was like the first time all over again; the same desperation and desire to please that just never left.

the kiss quickly gets heated as harry pulls his quarter zip off of you, making you both giggle at the fact that he just put it on you only a few minutes prior. your lips reconnect in a haste, not wanting even a single second away from each other.

harry lays you down on the rug beneath you as his hands make their way to your exposed legs, feeling the heat from the fire on your thighs. his shirt quickly comes off as well from you tugging at it. a moan escapes your lips just watching his body as he pulls the shirt over his head.

harry's suffered from many injuries in these last few years that have left him littered in scars. and while you obviously hate to think about harry in pain, something about his scars drove you crazy with lust. a brave boy who faced death and came back, now healing far away from the cruel world with you as his lover. it was just another reminder that you were safe, that he was finally safe.

harry smiles as he goes in to kiss you again, his hands going right back to your thighs as he pushes your nightdress above your panties. you're holding his face lovingly but harry pulls away from the kiss to look at you. he watches your expression intently as he starts sliding his fingers over your panties, earning a sigh of relief from you. harry's eyes grow darker the longer he teases you. he sits up to use his other hand to hold down your bucking hips, causing you to whine in frustration.

"patience," harry commands from you in a stern voice. you look up at him, jaw lax, breathing uneven, and simply give him a nod.

you love this side of harry. of course you fell in love with the soft, gentle, careful parts of him first, but over time you saw more and more of his angry, controlling, dominant side during sex that you were completely weak for.

living at hogwarts and then grimmauld place right after, most of your intimate moments with harry were kept quiet to avoid being heard. soft whispering, quiet moans, slow movements, and breathless orgasms under a heavy blanket with the lights dimmed. once you moved here, away from everything and everyone, things were different.

of course, you were both still a bit quiet and shy at first, not used to having a place all to your own where no one can hear you for miles. but, slowly, you and harry learned to break old habits and started experimenting together. a lot.

it seemed like neither of you could ever get enough of each other since coming here. you'd always been really attracted to each other, maybe more than the average couple, but something about being alone together in this corner of the world where the forest meets the ocean made you feel so connected, so in tune, and completely and utterly obsessed with each other.

it started with long, drawn-out, foreplay-heavy love making in your new bed to "break it in", sometimes spending hours each day just entangled together on top of the sheets, admiring the other's body and exploring every part. then it would slowly move over to the bath, naturally, after spending so much time sweating together in bed. after a while the sessions would get shorter as you would both be completely exhausted afterwards. instead, they increased in frequency.

either you or harry would find little opportunities to sneak in a quick fuck throughout the day between chores, or would give the other person head as they made dinner in the kitchen. it was thrilling. neither of you had ever been sexual outside of the bedroom/bathroom before, but you found it completely erotic.

you had yet to have sex in front of the fire, oddly enough, but you had thought about it quite a few times before. the warmth of the stove, the soft rug beneath you, the light on harry's skin, the sweat dripping off of him…

"[y/n]," harry said, snapping you out of your daze. "are you even listening to me?" he asks with a smirk.

you blush immediately, so lost in your thoughts about the sex you were just about to have that you couldn't even focus on what was currently happening…

"s-sorry…" you mumble. "you just drive me crazy," you admit shyly.

harry's hand pushes further into your hips, a groan crawling out of his throat as he glares at you. "don't make me cum already, darling," he growls, his voice deep and rumbling in his chest.

you whimper under his pressure, your back arching as your body attempts to find some kind of release from the growing tension inside of you.

"so fucking desperate already," harry says, clearly enjoying watching you struggle under his control. "if i could resist you even a little bit i would sit here and watch you struggle all day," he tells you as he leans into your neck, his teeth sinking into your skin. you wince and squeal, your heart racing from the pain.

harry smirks at your reaction. he sits up and releases the pressure on your hips, causing them to buck upwards instinctively. a pathetic "please," is all you're able to muster as you attempt to catch your breath.

normally harry wants to hear you do a lot more begging than that, but he's just as desperate as you are at this point and he can't resist you much longer.

harry props your legs up for him after helping you take off your panties, throwing them to the side as he lays between your thighs. you prop yourself up on your elbows to look down at harry who's hungrily looking between your eyes and your pussy. your breathing is rapid and shallow as your heart continues to thump in your chest. even after all these years and all the times you've seen harry between your legs you just never get used to the sight. he still gives you butterflies like a nervous girl with a crush.

your head rolls in pleasure as harry starts kissing your thighs; even in both of your desperate states, even when he's at his most dominant, he's still the gentle, loving harry you're so in love with.

harry's hands find your own and intertwine your fingers together as his tongue begins exploring your pussy. you can feel yourself getting even more wet as harry's mouth attaches itself to you, enjoying how you taste. moaning, whining, hips bucking onto harry's tongue, you start to feel yourself sweat from both the fire and harry's intense gaze up at you.

"f-fuck," you cry, your thighs instinctively squeezing around harry's head. he can't help but moan as he sucks on your clit, practically letting you ride his face.

you reach for your silky nightdress and lift it above your chest, exposing your nipples to the warmth of the fire as you continue watching harry make your legs tremble.

harry's eyes droop in pleasure. one of his hands grabs for your tits and the other applies the same pressure to your hips as before. you let out your first real moan above a whimper, your hips still trying to grind against harry's mouth as he continues pushing you further into the rug.

his tongue's now inside of you, teasing you as you clench around him, your thighs still quivering.

"harry, harry, please," you say breathlessly, begging for more. harry ignores you, instead only going slower to drive you mad. you groan in frustration. he looks back up at you for only a second, but you can see the smirk in his eyes.

his hand lets go of your tits before making its way to your thighs, pushing them away from his head as harry takes a moment to breathe. you're blushing, completely flustered, eyes half-open. "sorry," you apologize.

"don't be. give me more." harry demands.

his hand pushes further into your pelvis, his elbow holding down your thigh as you wince at the pressure.

harry's mouth returns to your clit as his fingers feel how wet you are for him. your body jolts at the sensation, but harry just holds you down tighter. starting with one finger, harry pushes inside you slowly as you writhe under his grasp. your hands get tangled in his hair again, desperately pulling his face further into your pussy.

harry just chuckles, looking up at you as he slowly pushes another finger inside you. you gasp, your grip in his hair tightening as your other hand plays with your tits. just the look in harry's eyes watching you chase your high is enough to bring you close to the edge.

harry's fingers were pumping in and out of your pussy, his lips and tongue still teasing your clit. your thighs threatened to close again, but harry kept them spread open for himself. "enough," he states, planting his elbows into your thighs and his hand against your pelvis. he glares up at you as he repositions himself. "stay."

you can feel your body react to the aggression in his voice. this is the hungriest, and hottest, side of harry you've ever seen. you're already brought back to the brink of orgasm as soon as you can see harry's fingers pumping inside you again, his wrist and forearm veins pronounced against the light of the fire as he picks up his speed.

the moans coming out of your mouth are filthy and involuntary, your mind going blank at the sudden rush of pleasure through your body. once harry's tongue begins circling your clit again, you don't have a chance at lasting much longer.

"i-i, harry, stop, i'm–" is all you're able to get out before your legs begin shaking, your head thrown back, crying out in overwhelming pleasure. it feels so good not having to hold back your moans anymore.

harry's lips detach from you, swollen, covered in your wetness. his fingers continue thrusting into you, gently now as you ride out your high. he slowly removes them after a moment, his hand and elbows relieving the pressure that kept you pinned to the ground.

you're still whining, your legs aching from struggling against harry's weight. they feel impossibly heavy as you try to bend your knees up. harry just watches you, enjoying the aftermath of his work.

you're still seeing stars by the time harry's pants have come off, his cock barely peeking through the front of his boxers. he starts rubbing himself through the fabric, his breathing becoming labored as you watched him in a daze.

you look up at him innocently through your eyelashes, your mouth slightly ajar as you lean your weight to one elbow, using the other hand to take his place. he lets you take over, slowly stroking his erection through his boxers, enjoying his gaze down at you from above. his hand goes to your cheek, softly tracing the curve of your smile.

his fingers delicately open your lips before roughly shoving them into your mouth. you make a surprised noise, but quickly begin sucking and licking his fingers. he pulls his boxers down with the other hand, and uses your spit to lube himself up. you lick your own fingers and do the same, helping guide his cock into you with a groan of both pleasure and discomfort.

harry gradually thrusts into you, letting you adjust to him, taking his time with you. he watches your aching pussy welcome his cock eagerly, your legs already starting to tremble from the pressure building inside you again. "oh, fuck," harry's voice cracks, his hands gripping your thighs as they continue to involuntarily shake.

a hand flies to your mouth, barely able to contain yourself already. seeing harry's face of relief as his cock slides all the way inside you only makes you clench around him tighter. he lets out a struggled breath, his grip on your thighs only tightening as he spread them open for himself again.

harry's eyes are closed in bliss, his thrusts slow but deep, forcing a whine from your throat each time he's completely inside you. he's starting to sweat, his hair hanging loosely around his forehead, arms flexed to keep his grip on you, his body leaning down into yours as he starts picking up his pace.

harry looks down at you. one of his hands grabs the hand covering your mouth. "let me hear you, angel," he speaks gently but his voice is hungry, immediately earning a soft moan from your lips. he smiles, leaning down to kiss you sloppily.

harry takes this time to really pick up his speed, adjusting his position to roughly thrust himself into your throbbing pussy. his hands grab for the back of your knees, forcing your legs to bend back as he only pushes himself into you more.

"oh my god," you gasp into harry's kiss, your hands wrapping around his shoulders to steady yourself. harry's forehead rests against yours, looking down, glasses fogged up from the heavy breathing and heat from the fire. he's watching himself from your angle, slowing down his thrusting to a torturous pace. you both groan at the feeling and sight of harry pushing his cock completely inside you and slowly pulling back out before thrusting into you again.

"fuck, baby, you take my cock so well, feel so fucking good," harry says breathlessly into your ear.  your nails dig into his shoulders as you try not to cum again already just from harry's voice. you're both sweating, faces pressed together, the fire slightly dying beside you but still creating a warm glow.

"y-you're, mmph, i'm so close, again," you cry, letting yourself rest back on the soft rug. you feel so at peace despite the growing tension in your stomach – watching harry prop himself up with one hand on the ground beside you and the other still holding your leg back, his chest heaving as he continues thrusting inside you with a growing pace.

harry looks at your twisted expression, eyes glossed over and cheeks flushed, your tits bouncing as he roughly uses your body for his pleasure.

"yeah?" harry looks at you, his grip on your leg tightening as he fucks you roughy into the rug. "fucking cum for me," he commands from you.

you barely need his permission before you're already over the edge, legs uncontrollably shaking, eyes rolling back, incoherent words getting lost in your broken moans and cries of pain.

it's all harry needs before he feels himself release inside you, still thrusting into you slowly as his cum spills out of your pussy.

your body is shaking from the sensation, your legs still vibrating as you clench around harry's cock. he struggled to finally pull out of you.

still trying to catch his breath, harry lovingly rubs your thighs as he watches your swollen pussy ache for the feeling of his cock again.

"so fucking beautiful, my love," harry sighs, relaxing his body on top of yours, his head in your neck. "my beautiful, beautiful girl," he repeats, covering you in kisses as he showers you with compliments.

you just giggle at him, exhausted, trying to come back down to earth.

"i can't…move," you mumble between breaths, your eyes drooping closed as your feet touch back down on the rug. you feel even more weak than before.

harry hums, kissing your forehead. "it's okay, i've got you, darling," he says with a warm smile.

he stands up, slowly, but isn't in as much pain as he expected. his knees are sore for sure, but otherwise, he couldn't feel better.

he leans down to help you sit up, guiding your body into his arms as he picks you up bridal style, your head resting in his chest. you giggle again but you're too weak to reject the gesture. he carefully carries you to the bathroom just down the hall from the living room.

harry runs you both a warm bath as you watch from the counter. he's still naked, as are you, but it's not awkward or sexual – it's just natural.

he shuts the water off and reaches for you once again. "i'm okay now," you insist, standing from the counter and steadying yourself with his hands. he still helps you walk to the tub before helping you climb inside. the water's extremely hot, but it feels so nice on your sweaty, aching skin.

"i'll be right back, gotta feed the fire, just wait for me, yeah?" harry says before he dips out of the bathroom.

looking around you as you warm the rest of your body with the water, you notice the candles sitting around the tub from the last time you both took a bath together. just the flash of the memory through your brain is enough to make your stomach twist into knots again. harry had you bent over the side of the tub as water splashed everywhere, the feeling of freedom and carelessness intoxicating you both as you cared about nothing but each other's highs.

with a flick of your wet hand, you light all the candles again, and the room is lit with a warm glow. it's not often you use magic anymore, harry prefers to do things manually now that you're both caring for a piece of land, but the convenience of certain spells are too useful to forget completely.

walking back in, harry smirks at all the candles being lit. he admires you for a moment, naked, sweaty, half submerged in the huge clawfoot bathtub surrounded by the glow of the candles. "trying to insinuate something, love?" harry asks, closing the bathroom door behind him.

you blush, curling your knees into your chest. "just thought it'd be nice to have some light," you say softly.

harry grabs you both towels and sets them next to the tub before climbing in himself. he positions himself behind you, holding your body as he guides you to relax into his chest. once you laid your head back, you and harry sat in comfortable, warm silence for a long while.

it takes a few minutes before harry's hands begin rubbing at your stomach, slowly, making ripples throughout the water as you lower your knees, letting harry comfort you. he's humming softly, your head rumbling in his chest. he rests his head next to your own and watches his hands from your perspective.

his rubbing gets further and further down your stomach, running his hands along your waist and hips before finally grabbing at your inner thighs roughly. you let out a pathetic whimper, watching his hands from above the water.

"is it bad that i already need you again?" harry chuckles, half joking but half already turned on. you shake your head quickly, your hips thrusting up for relief, moaning at his words. "no, need you, please," you respond desperately, looking over at him.

harry's eyes are darker once more, watching as his hands gradually move to your sensitive pussy. you groan in response, but harry quickly kisses you to cover it. "i know, baby, just let me take care of it," he says into your lips.

slowly circling your clit with soft fingers, harry watches as your eyes droop more and more from the building pleasure. eventually his fingers are back inside of you, gently pumping in and out. his head turns back to your body as he watches you react to him. his other hand goes for your tits, grabbing one roughly from just above the surface of the water.

while it feels good being teased you're insanely desperate for harry once again. your hand reaches behind you, feeling harry's growing erection against your back. harry's grip on you tightens as your hand starts stroking his cock slowly under the water.

"fucking dirty girl," he groans under his breath, taking his fingers out of your pussy to continue rubbing your clit. you cry out at the loss of feeling, your hand squeezing around harry as he just enjoys the feeling.

soon, harry's moved your hips to align with his, your arms holding your body up on either side of the tub as you slowly insert harry back inside your pussy once again. the familiar feeling is only enhanced by being underwater, his cock sliding in and out of you with ease as you adjust to the feeling.

"oh my god," you sigh, your stomach already tightening, thighs still a bit shaky. harry's guiding your hips expertly, groaning in pleasure watching your ass dip in and out of the water onto his lap. his head is resting against the edge of the tub, mind blank, solely focused on your pleasure and his.

"fuck, harry," you whimper again, rolling your hips around on his cock before thrusting it inside you again. harry wishes you could see just how sexy you look from this angle, your hair flowing down your back, your skin glistening in the candlelight, the water droplets running down your hips, it's enough to make him resist the urge to finish already.

"you're so perfect," harry groans. he smacks your ass, slapping the water with it, causing you to squeal and quicken your pace. the same filthy moans are still spilling from your mouth, hardly able to contain yourself in this situation. something about using the time meant to help each other clean up to only continue fucking makes you feel so dirty, so used, and it's driving you crazy.

harry suddenly stops you, much to your disappointment, and tells you to trust him. "just get out and stand up," he says.

you do as he says, and eventually harry has you bent over the bathroom counter, barely lit by the candles behind you. he slowly returns his cock inside of you, your bodies dripping water everywhere.

as harry's thrusts become more consistent, one hand grabs for your shoulder and the other for your damp hair. he forces your face to look in the mirror, your eyes barely open from the pleasure. "watch," he commands. your eyes shot open at his voice, tracing the shape of your shadows in the mirror in front of your face.

harry loses himself in you, his head rolling back in pleasure hearing you struggle to take his cock for a second time. you're trying to moan, say anything at all, but your voice is incomprehensible as harry only becomes rougher with you.

"god damn it, [y/n]," harry spits out, his voice clearly exhausted. his hands travel back to your tits, pulling you back up into him as he continues pounding into you from behind. you're a mess in his hands as they roughly grope your tits.

"look at you," harry growls into your neck, looking into the mirror just in front of you as his gaze meets yours. "so fucking sexy,"

your hands desperately grip the edge of the counter for balance, your legs getting more and more weak by the second. harry pushes you further over the counter, his moans becoming urgent.

"i'm gonna fill you up because you're fucking mine, yeah? look at this perfect body of yours," harry's voice strains, his sweaty chest against your back as he forces you to continue watching yourself get pounded in the mirror, one arm over your chest and the other holding your hips. the light of the candles is just enough to let you see harry's dark expression. "fucking perfect, just for me,"

you haven't been able to get a single word out, your mind spinning as harry only gets more and more desperate, his pace getting sloppy.

"fuck, baby, just be good for me and let me cum inside your tight little pussy, hm? let me show you what's mine,"

you're already starting to cum just from harry's words. the overwhelming pleasure racks your body harshly as harry continues to use you for himself. shaking, barely able to stand without his help, your voice is breaking as you cry out in ecstasy for the third time just this morning.

harry's barely able to last much longer. his thrusts have slowed to uneven, jerky motion as he feels his cum spilling deep inside you. breathy moans and aching bodies, harry rests against you with your body limp against the counter. he lifts his head from your neck to kiss your skin softly, everywhere, slowly helping guide you back to the tub for a second time. your legs are weaker than before and you're barely able to contribute as harry leans you into the water, still kissing your damp skin.

"i love you, i love you," he's mumbling between kisses.

you're too weak and dizzy to respond in any way, still trying to catch your breath as harry begins cleaning your skin. he rubs a soft rag along your chest, neck, back, shoulders, and arms. the whole time he's complimenting you lovingly, a gentle touch and warm gaze upon your tired face.

after washing himself, harry also dries you off, carrying you back to bed before getting you both dressed in comfortable, warm pajamas. "just rest for today, my love," he told you as he laid you down. you reach for his hands. "stay?"

harry smiles. you didn't have to ask, it was literally his bed too, but he admires how soft and innocent you are in this moment. though he loves to be rough with you like he just was, there's nothing more special in the world to him than the gentleness between you two. his whole life has been nothing but challenges, setbacks, problems, and you're everything but. he just wants to be soft and gentle with you.

harry climbs under the sheets, his body also succumbing to the ache and exhaustion. he wraps himself around you, already falling asleep against his chest. harry joins not long after, finally getting his much needed sleep without the threat of his nightmares.

a few weeks later it's just a bit warmer out than it has been, so you and harry immediately started the day doing outdoor chores while you could. harry was chopping wood as you cleaned up around the cottage garden. it was too cold most of the year to grow much of anything out of it, but you still liked to keep it manageable for the smaller animals that stopped by to look around.

you also took the time to admire harry, shirtless, sweaty, groaning each time he drops the ax into another cut of firewood. his body had become well built from all the manual labor he's been doing lately, carrying entire trunks or stumps of trees out of the forest, lifting heavy bags of mulch and dirt for you, digging out the flower bed around the cottage, he was more muscular and toned than you'd ever seen him. it never mattered what harry's body looked like to you, you always found him attractive no matter what, but you couldn't deny that his toned back and broad shoulders got you more worked up than usual lately.

it was nice getting to work on the home with each other, a comfortable silence filling the day broken by the occasional question, favor, kiss, or compliment. it was peaceful, this routine you both had, and it felt so natural to work with each other. you hardly had to communicate your ideas because you were often thinking the same things.

tea in the morning, chores once the sun is out, taking a dip in the ocean at sunset, and having a warm home cooked dinner in the dark, the cottage lit from within from candles and the fireplace. it was perfect. for both of you.

and, of course, the sex had never slowed down as well.

you had both joked at the beginning of your move that you didn't think you could ever stop yourselves now that you were isolated from the world, but that's exactly what ended up happening. neither of your desires could be relieved no matter how many times you tried. not that you wanted them to go away by any means, it was just overwhelming, the feral need to spend hours each day pleasuring each other in every way possible. it was always passionate and desperate for more, never becoming repetitive or any less exciting. it was exactly what you both needed and wanted all the time.

as the sun was setting for the day, you and harry sat together and shared an orange you had gotten at the market just a few miles away earlier that week. you were lucky to be close enough to something that offered fresh produce, even in the colder parts of the year. harry watched the waves crashing against the sand, his knees to his chest as you both steady yourself on a large rock between the cottage and the water.

"thank you," harry says softly. you look over at him, his hands now empty as he's swallowing the last of his orange slices. you finish yours as well. "of course," you respond.

harry shakes his head. "no. really. thank you, [y/n], for everything." he says, still watching the sea. you blush, giving him a soft smile before turning to watch it as well. "i'm finally, really, truly happy. for the first time in my life, i feel at peace." harry explains, still speaking softly just over the crashing waves.

you could cry just from harry's words. all you've ever wanted was for him to feel safe. he's had such a difficult start in life and didn't deserve what happened to him, or what he was forced to do. he deserved simplicity. a normal life in a normal home doing normal chores. he deserved to be happy.

overcome with love, you stand from the rock and grab harry's hand, pulling him with you. he silently follows you down the beach. once you're a few yards away from the shore, you pull down the straps of the dress you had been working in off your shoulders, letting the material slide right off your body and onto the sand as you continue heading towards the water.

you turn to look at harry, and he's stunned at how beautiful you are. the shape of your body against the warm sunset over the water, nothing but a pair of panties covering your sweaty skin. your hair was flowing in the salty breeze of the ocean, hands reaching for his as your feet began to touch the water.

harry's ripped and dirty blue jeans come off as well as his glasses, leaving them behind on the sand as he grabs for your hand. you walk into the water together, slightly shivering from the lingering chill beneath the warm surface, but quickly adjusting to the temperature. harry's only admiring you, like he always does, as you dip your head under the water and come up, pushing the hair out of your face.

harry does the same, wiping his face of the sweat and dirt that's collected over the work day with the salty water. this has become one of his favorite parts of your routine together, cooling off in the ocean after a long day. not just to wash off the sweat and stress of the day, but also to admire you in all your glory under the shining sun.

harry wastes no time reaching for you, pulling you into him as you float in his grasp. he holds you for a moment, mesmerized by the light in your eyes, a smile permanently fixed on his face. "my beautiful girl," he reminds you, his forehead leaning against yours. you hum, reaching your hands to his neck as you pull him in for a heated kiss.

you've had sex in the ocean a few times now, and it's quickly become one of your favorites. it's the ultimate form of freedom being naked together making love in the gentle waves, harry holding you around his waist as he hugs your body into his.

most nights you're both too tired from working to go further than sloppy making out and feeling each other up; but other nights, like tonight, you're both too desperate to care if it hurts.

as harry continues kissing you he carries you back to the shore, your legs still around his waist as he lays you down onto the sand. the water just barely washes over harry's legs as it meets the shoreline. you relax into the warm sand beneath you, harry already pulling your panties off. you giggle at his eagerness. he smirks, his hands gripping your waist hungrily.

you can see harry's erection through his soaking wet boxers barely hanging off his hips. just as eagerly, you pull them down for him as he kicks them to the side.

harry easily slides his cock inside of you, letting out a struggled sigh of relief at the feeling. no matter what's going on around him, harry will always feel perfectly in place when he's inside of you.

your hands are tangled in his wet hair, gripping tighter as he bottoms out. he moans desperately, leaning in for another kiss. his pace evens out to a familiar rhythm, your body wrapping around him as he fucks you into the wet sand. the warm sunset is perfectly met with the chilly breeze of the water that's still waving over both of you gently. each time it gives you shivers, your body arching into harry's from the shocking feeling.

harry's not sure if he's ever wanted to finish this quickly before. it was so perfect, this moment, the sun, the waves, you. he just couldn't believe this was his life. making love to the most beautiful girl in the world where the land meets the sea. he never thought life could be this simple and beautiful, but with you it was effortless.

he pulled away from the kiss to simply look at you, eyes drooping, cheeks blushing, eyebrows pinched together in desperation. he smiled. "i love you," he says so simply, his thrusts beginning to stutter against you. you smile back, eyes still half open. "love you, harry, so much," you manage to say between heavy breaths.

you pull him back in for a kiss, and feel his body weaken on top of you, leaning on his elbows for support in the uneven sand. "baby, baby," he tries to warn you, but you just continue kissing him and wrap your legs back around his waist, pulling him deeper into your pussy.

he completely unravels, pumping his cum inside you as he cries against your lips. "fuck," he keeps groaning in a broken voice. you can feel yourself letting go as well, your thighs squeezing around harry's waist as the water crashes into your body again, making you shake even more.

you both enjoy the moments after your climaxes together, letting the water continue to run over you as the sun's light falls below the horizon. harry, still inside you, his body resting on top of yours, tells you he loves you in the softest, sleepiest voice he can manage.

you kiss his head, reminding him how much you love him.

you both eventually sit up, covered in sand, and chuckle to each other about it. harry invites you back into the water where he washes you off, giving you a loving kiss under the dim sky.

he continues holding you there in the gentle waves, the emerging stars lighting the sky above you. he's a bit cold now, but he couldn't be more warm inside. harry just loves you and the little life you've built with him here on the sea. he feels happy, loved, and completely at peace in the ocean with you in his arms.

[kumkaniudaku]

At Last: Part One

Summary: Patrice returns home to celebrate a birthday and a new beginning.

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC

Word Count: 6.7k

Warnings: None

In a little corner of Wilmington, NC, tucked behind towering Spanish moss trees and sprawling acres of lush green grass, the Habersham family were monarchs on ancestral turf. 

Enslaved Sierra Leonean men and women had tilled this land long before Patrice was a twinkle in her mother and father’s eyes. They hoped, prayed, and danced for a future where babies far down their lineage could have a place to visit for a connection to their love and guidance beyond the physical realm. According to some, their spirits still roamed the fields once holding them captive in great triumph.

Long-held West African customs preserved and passed down over time had transformed into the uniquely rich Gullah culture that still governed the eldest generation of Habershams and their children. While much of the language patterns had been lost, Sybil Habersham-Lewis and her baby sister, Rosalyn, worked tirelessly to keep the family home tidy and traditions alive. 

They never hesitated to tell stories of how their great-grandfather rebuilt the big house with his bare hands to rid his offspring of a torrid legacy from a man he reluctantly called father. They sometimes laughed about how he, a fair-skinned man with green eyes and a mean streak, met and married a slender songstress with blue-black skin within six months of laying eyes on her. Paul and Efua produced eight children in that home. Those eight children created a line of movers and shakers that stretched far and wide. 

One of those movers and shakers stared out of the passenger side window with eyes wide as saucers and a smile that rivaled the sun, watching trees donning brown, red, and orange leaves whiz past on the way to her favorite place in the world. Patrice was itching to get out of the car and kick her shoes off to feel the soft tickle of damp Bermuda grass between her toes. She longed to see her uncle’s horses, eat fresh seafood until her stomach ached, and recap moments in her girlhood with her cousins. She couldn’t wait to kiss Nana's face 95 times for her 95th birthday. She needed to smell the blue hydrangeas in her auntie’s garden. She needed to be home.

Terry stole glances at Patrice, finding joy in her enthusiasm. She hadn’t slept a wink the night before or in the nearly two-hour ride from Fayetteville. He knew she’d tucker out eventually, but seeing her brimming with unbridled happiness made his heart swell. 

“God, I hope my auntie made okra. Oooh and crab cakes. I haven’t had any in so long!”

Terry listened to the way her accent slurred and shortened words in rapid succession with a smile. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to understand you by the end of the weekend.” 

“You’ll be lucky to keep up past tonight.” she laughed. "My granny ‘dem Geechee tuh de bone."

“Y’all make everything sound like music. I like it.” 

“If you tell Moon Pie that, she might try to take you from me.” 

“You gon’ let her?” 

“Hell nah. I’ll whoop her ass. She ain’t crazy.” 

The thought of having to put hands on her cousin behind her man made Patrice scowl while Terry let off a loud, shoulder-shaking cackle. Though she was serious as a heart attack, she laughed along with him to release the tension building in her muscles. 

Terry reached across the center console to gently rub her arm before playfully caressing her chin to pull a smile from her lips. 

“No way I’d let you fight as pretty as you are. Plus, we’re celebrating all weekend. If you aren’t smiling from tonight ‘til Sunday, I didn’t do my job.” 

Patrice’s mouth twisted into a suspicious smirk. “And what’s your job? You know, if someone were to ask for a friend.”

“Keeping you happy.” His cheeky quip made her eyes roll as she kissed her teeth. 

For over a week Terry had been tight lipped about something Patrice couldn’t put her finger on. She’d tried to catch him in a fib or make him slip up and share whatever details existed behind hushed calls and unmarked deliveries. But, Terry was notorious for keeping secrets under lock and key. Whatever he was planning would sneak up on her like a thief in the night. 

“You nervous to meet everyone?” Patrice questioned to change the subject.

“Nah, I’m good.” He cut his eyes in Patrice’s direction and smiled when he found her already eying him skeptically. “Think I’m lying?” 

“Yeah, I think you’re full of shit. Either that or you’re truly unaware of how crazy my folks are. No way you aren’t a little concerned.” 

He shrugged. “I’m not too worried. I love you, so I know I’ll love them. We’ll figure out the parts in the middle.” 

Everything Terry knew about Patrice, in his mind, was a beautiful amalgamation of those who had a hand in raising her into the woman she’d grown into. He knew her mother and how the two shared the same heart for community service. From her father, she’d inherited an uncanny ability to stop a whole room from speaking with only a raised eyebrow. Though he’d only heard stories of her grandmother, he could tell that her independent nature was a founding feature. And, if those things could make his heart turn flips with one look across a crowded room, he’d have no trouble making space for his bonus family. 

Patrice tried to formulate a counterpunch to Terry’s levelheaded assessment of the situation but had a change of heart as smooth asphalt transitioned into the familiar crunch of gravel beneath her car’s tires. 

Black iron gates adorned with an ornate H were pulled open, giving anyone casually walking by a peak into an almost mythical land. Terry’s eyes darted from place to place, lingering on the hanging moss trees lining their path, then on the children gleefully chasing each other through fallen leaves around a small white gazebo, before landing on a magnificent wrap-around porch serving as a gathering spot for elder men taking inventory of fishing equipment for an early morning trip to catch the evening’s meal. The Big House, as Patrice affectionately called it, was a modern marvel, an oasis for every hue of black man, woman, and child with Habersham blood in their veins to feel like they were somebody in an otherwise cruel world. 

“Beautiful, ain’t it? Auntie did her thing with the last renovation.” Patrice asked, beaming as she started to unbuckle her seatbelt.

“Incredible. Is this al-” 

Whatever was left of Terry’s awe-inspired sentence was swept into the wind as Patrice hopped from the passenger seat and onto the concrete driveway before the car could come to a full stop. 

Like a child finally released from the confines of their classroom onto the playground for 30 minutes of recess freedom, she hit the ground in a slight jog to greet a woman about her age skipping down the porch steps to meet her halfway. 

“Imani,” Patrice hollered, her arms already outstretched in anticipation of a hug. 

Imani called her name back with equal excitement until the two women were joined in a tight embrace. Terry watched from afar, a warm smile tugging his lips to one side as he shut off the engine and exited the vehicle. 

The two women rocked side to side until they’d had their fill of one another. Imani pulled away first to get a look at her favorite baby cousin. 

“My girlfrieeend,” she sang, imitating the theme song from the only show they watched for a full summer in their teens. “You look so good. The skin, the hair, the body! It’s all working right now.” 

“Me? Look at you! I know for a fact this caftan is from like Paris or Bali or somewhere crazy.” 

“Oh you know, just a little somethin’ custom from London. Not too much, not too much.” 

“How you stand it there with that nasty looking food is beyond me, girl.” 

Imani laughed. “That’s for them other folks. People that look like us know where to get a good meal. You oughta come see me sometime. Book a flight and let me worry about the rest.” 

“Next summer?” 

“I’ll throw it on my calendar. Bring Mister Man, too.” 

Patrice didn’t need to turn around to know that Terry had made his presence known. She could feel the warmth of his hand on her lower back as he joined her side. 

If he hadn’t known her for nearly two decades, Terry would have easily gotten Patrice and Imani confused. Both women wore glowing deep dark skin like a badge of honor, soaking up rays of sun and reflecting them in the way that only ethereal beings could. Wide noses and plump, pink and brown lips complimented impossibly high cheekbones. Beauty marks at the corners of opposite eyes might possibly be a tell-tale sign if one could fight being lulled into a trance by the sheer grace they both possessed. The only difference was Imani’s slight height advantage and low, ash blonde haircut.

“Wow,” he whispered, the words catching him by surprise. He shook his head in embarrassment. “I’m sorry. I just - y’all are damn near twins.” 

“Don’t I know it,” they spoke in unison. 

Patrice took over after a chuckle. “They used to call us Frick and Frack. Mostly because they couldn’t always tell who was who.”

“Which Petey over here never wanted to use to our advantage.” 

“Petey?” Terry questioned. 

“Wait, she never told you her nic-” 

“And, that’s enough,” Patrice hollered, purposely eclipsing Imani’s voice to keep her cousin from going further. “Terrence, this Imani. Imani this is Terrence, my man.” 

Terry could feel a bolt of lightning surge through his body as he reached out to shake Imani’s hand. Truthfully, he wasn’t sure what Patrice might call him in a simple introduction. He’d always given her a treasure trove of titles - his lady, the love of his life, maybe his wife one day if the Lord willed it so. He’d introduced her so much that they never explored how the inverse would work. But hearing himself be proudly referred to as her’s was a shock to the system that he hadn’t prepared for but welcomed all the same. 

Imani waved his outstretched hand away and pulled him in for a hug. “Boy, we family. Come here and get this squeeze.”

Like an old friend, Imani pulled Terry into a welcoming hug. Patrice looked on with a silent thanks to God. If what she knew of her cousin still held weight, they’d be fast friends and thick as thieves by the end of the weekend. 

Pulling away, she lightly tapped his chest and looked at Patrice. “I can’t believe I finally get to meet Terry Richmond in person. You’re basically her Nelly!” she laughed, recalling Patrice’s near obsession with St. Louis and their hometown hero after Hot in Herre debuted. Patrice rolled her eyes while Terry and Imani held on to each other through loud laughter.

“Got damn, Moanie, hold ‘em hostage why don’t you! You ain’t the only person they know ‘round here.” 

“Hey, Daddy!” 

“Hey, Baby Girl!”

The perfectly timed distraction took Patrice’s attention away long enough for the newest tandem to exchange hushed conversation.

“Yeah, but I’m the best!” Imani hollered back before winking at Terry and Patrice. “Go on. I’ll have the boys get y’all’s stuff. Make sure you get to the kitchen. Think Mama’s got some pound cake cut for you.”

The mention of other family members awaiting their arrival was a quick reminder that Terry had barely scratched the surface of new faces and connections. Every direction he turned presented another opportunity to be pulled into a spirited handshake or warm hug. 

With the men in her life, he was immediately received with masculine equivalents of praise for his physical form.

“Son, you look like ya 'bout tuh buss out dat shirt 'round ya arms. Petey, you don’t have to worry ‘bout no protection, huh?” was Uncle PJ’s way of saying he was confident in Terry’s ability to keep Patrice safe. 

“You comin’ out fishin’? Country boy like you probably catch catfish with your bare hands!” 

“Where you from?”

“Where your people from?” 

“They white? How you get them green eyes?”

“You got kids? You sure?” 

“You know you got some ears on you, don’t ya!”

Patrice’s father, Leon, interjected to save Terry from an increasingly invasive dive into his personal history. “Don’t answer none of that. But I would like you to come out on the water with us. Have a beer or two so we can finish that conversation from the other week.” 

“Y’all talking about me behind my back?” 

“Hell, I do,” Junior laughed. “She aggravating, bruh. You can say it. Go ‘head.”

“You better not.” 

Patrice playfully poked a perfectly manicured finger into Terry’s chest to force his silence, earning a chaste kiss on the forehead. Junior scoffed and sipped from his half-empty bottle of water.

“T, you grown now. Your big ass don’t have to let her boss you no more.” 

“That’s my favorite part,” Terry answered, finally speaking up for himself. “She sweet when she wanna be.”

“I ain’t seen it.”

“Because I don’t like you, Junior. How many times do we have to go over this?”

Terry tried to contain his wide grin from watching the siblings bicker like old times. He’d been in the middle of many a verbal tussle between them, always stepping in as the voice of reason. He still held the role of peacemaker all these years later. 

“She loves you, man. Still keeps your room up and everything.” 

Leon shook his head at his children’s antics. “Good thing you here. I couldn’t take that shit this weekend.” He pointed at the passenger seat of his truck and the open lunch box resting in it. “So, you comin’. Got food for you if you wanna ride.” 

“Uh, yeah,” Terry started before looking toward the house at the small audience of women crowding at the kitchen window. They scattered when he caught their gaze, making him laugh at the ridiculousness of the whole thing. “Give us a few minutes. I think there’s some people inside I gotta meet first.” 

“Good luck, man. I would say you got five minutes but we both know that ain’t happening. We’ll wait a bit.”

With one trial by fire ending, another began. In their short walk to the front porch, Patrice had given Terry opportunities to gracefully bow out of the incoming circus and take her father’s invitation as a get out of hell free card. He’d refused every effort with a kind smile and unfounded reassurance that everything would be okay. In his mind, he’d hug a few necks, kiss a few cheeks, and be out of dodge before anyone could hold him long. 

Stepping into the home’s foyer felt like being in a museum. Photos of Habersham descendants living and passed on to Glory lined the hallway as a reminder of their history on this land. Eyes that carried an array of stories looked back at him, leaving goosebumps across his arms. Especially once he landed on a young woman with a familiar half-smile encased behind an antique picture frame. 

Patrice noticed him stop short to give the photo his full attention. 

“My great-great-great grandma,” she informed, adding extra emphasis on the final ‘great’. “Efua. Nana says she was barely bigger than the kids but ran this place with an iron fist. I believe it. She look like she don’t play.” 

“She looks kinda like you and Imani.” 

Patrice tilted her head to get a better look. “Hm. I guess you’re right.”

Clamoring in the kitchen pulled them away from Efua’s watchful eye and around the corner for their grand entrance. 

Women of every age, size, and shape filled the room from wall to wall, each one participating in the cooking process. On one side, a small group of teenagers huddled to inspect bushels of greens for bugs and cut them in preparation for a proper wash. On the other, small girls shelled black-eyed peas and giggled amongst themselves over TikTok videos. But in the center of the room, where spices and fresh ingredients intermingled for an almost intoxicating aroma and conversation was the loudest, all of the cornerstones of the family gathered to share gossip and wisdom alike. 

Terry’s appearance, tall and muscled with a winning smile to match, sent a hush over even the loudest woman present. 

“Oh God,” Patrice mumbled to herself, preemptively embarrassed by the storm she knew was sure to follow. 

Someone whistled. Then came a low “mm-mm-mm” from an auntie fighting hard to contain herself. Terry let every sound and look fuel his ego for just a few seconds before speaking. 

“Hey, ladies.” 

“Hey, Terry.” 

Every voice greeted him in unison like the Angels speaking to Charlie over that old speakerphone. Patrice screwed her face and pinched his shoulder. He’d been given strict instructions the night before, but being in the moment called for an audible that immediately made him a shiny new toy to be paraded.

Before he could have any say so, Patrice’s mother was ushering him around for every aunt and cousin to say a personal hello. He charmed each woman who met his acquaintance like a seasoned politician. If nothing else, they could all hang on to the memory of meeting the long-fabled Terrence Richmond. 

But, for all the pomp and circumstance, every breath hitched once Rosalyn led Terry to matriarch. 

She wore 95 years on Earth well. Chestnut skin covered in beauty marks crinkled around her eyes as she smiled back at him. Even as she sat in her wheelchair more slight and fragile than Patrice remembered, Terry could see her inner strength shining through.

Patrice watched her mother lean down and speak something into her grandmother’s ear before directing Terry to crouch down to eye level. He did as he was told, gingerly capturing her much smaller hands in his. 

“Hi, Ms. Ida. I’m so happy to finally meet you. My name is Terrence.” 

The softness in his voice ignited a chorus of heartwarming sentiments from every corner. Patrice had become so enraptured in the meeting she never thought would happen that she nearly missed her mother directing her to join Terry’s side. 

Ida didn’t say much back to him. Instead, she slid her hand from his grasp and traced her fingertips along the perimeter of his face. She examined him from all angles with a nostalgic look in her gaze. Terry tried not to let confusion come through in his expression, but Rosalyn caught the sliver of uncertainty. 

“You remind her of somebody close, that’s all. Same eyes.” 

He’d inadvertently sent her back to her childhood, bringing back memories so deep in her mind she thought she might never get them back. Even with slightly darker skin and broader features than Paul could boast back then, Ida still saw him clear as day. And that, all those years later, made her feel more alive than ever on her 95th birthday.

Ida tapped his jaw lightly and laughed. “Mhm. Petey, this him?” 

Finally joining Terry’s side, Patrice mimicked him and knelt by her grandmother’s feet. 

“Yes ma’am. He wanted to be here for your birthday.” 

“Nice looking boy, ain’t he?” 

Patrice giggled. “He cute, I guess. I heard he got you a gift for tonight, but he won’t tell me what it is. Can you believe it?”

“Well, hell, this all the gift I need. Give me anything else and I might not make it to 96!” 

“Mama!” 

Sybil hated when her mother made jokes about death, but Terry couldn’t help but laugh. He wanted to joke with her, see what else she might say knowing that no one in the house could tell her what to do, but the loud blast of a car horn in the front yard reminded him that he’d made a prior commitment. 

Gently, he squeezed her knee and spoke loud enough for her to hear. “Now, I go gotta go catch you somethin’ for tonight. You gon’ be here when I’m back?” 

“Oh yeah,” she answered, reinvigorated and saucy like her younger self. “I’ll be dressed up real nice too. Might leave here with two gals on your arm.” 

“You know I never been the sharing type, Nana.” 

Ida smiled at Patrice, nodding in approval. “That’s my girl. Keep that up.”

A second and longer beep let Terry know that time was running out. He quickly bid the group farewell, ending on Patrice with a simple kiss on the cheek and a promise to be back soon. 

While she became swept up in a whirlwind of who, what, when, and where, Rosalyn and Sybil slipped away to speak with Terry on his way out of the door. He’d become the center of attention, even long after his scent had faded. 

“Is he the one from high school?” 

“What’s he like?” 

“Is he always this nice?” 

“Y’all shackin’ up?” 

“When y’all getting married? What about kids?”

More questions, more prying, more assumptions than she could handle. Short, vague answers weren’t enough for them. They wanted the full scoop from the young lady they once knew as a shy girl who only focused on her studies. 

Patrice answered every question with enough detail to satiate their curiosity and maintain some level of privacy in her relationship. For a moment, that was enough. They’d unveiled the mystery of Petey’s other life and could move on to more pressing matters.

They quickly shifted to discussions of other people’s business. Who’d had a baby? Who was divorcing? Who’s kids were raising hell in the community? They took a winding road filled with chats about celebrity news and politics, nonsense about music, and, Patrice’s personal favorite, the old days. 

Those chats, full of lore and laughter, always took place in Nana’s parlor. A room covered in powder pink wallpaper and situated in the corner of the home where natural sunlight welcomed any guests that had the privilege of visiting. 

The older women sat side by side, crammed on expensive armchairs and soft couches, to convene at their leisure. Patrice stood by her favorite spot beside the window with Imani sitting on her right and her grandmother positioned in front of her. On her left stood a small table holding hair grease, a fine-toothed comb, and duck bill clips to help her pincurl Ida’s shoulder length silver hair. Her favorite pastime. 

“Everyone of y’all was bad,” Sybil laughed, referring to the crop of children that came up with Patrice. “Y’all came here every summer acting a damn fool.” 

“Not me and Petey!”

“Especially you and Petey. The worst of the bunch. Just sneaky and sassy!” 

“I don’t know what you talkin’ about. All I did was read and sit up under Nana.” 

Patrice’s highly inaccurate recollection of her time in the country every year made Ida laugh in her wheelchair. “Don’t let ‘em lie on you. I never saw my baby gettin’ in no trouble.” 

“Oh yeah right!” Sybil exclaimed. “Ros, wasn’t you there when these two let all the chickens out and had us chasin’ them ‘round out back.” 

“Sure was. They had all the grown folk out there huffin’, puffin’, and ‘bout to blow the house down!” 

The room fell into laughter watching Sybil imitate the group of adults fighting to capture livestock. Patrice remembered that afternoon and tried to defend their actions. 

“Okay, that is true, but I remember that being your daughter’s idea. I was only helping my sis.” 

Imani shrugged and sat back in her seat. “You raised an activist. Those animals were in captivity.” 

“Moanie, you eat meat,” Moon Pie commented. 

“I never said they didn’t taste good. I said we were holding them captive. The circle of life is different. Now let’s talk about how Moon had us sittin’ at the eating table all night because she wouldn’t finish her Frogmore stew thinkin’ there were real frogs in it.”

“Heaven forbid a girl need proof!” 

More laughter. The kind of laughter that healed deep emotional wounds. The kind that seeped into the walls, keeping the home full of love and light. The kind that made Patrice happy to not only be home but to share a piece of her heart with the man she loved. 

While she wished he could hear the silly stories and witness the exaggerated retellings, Terry was fidgeting with his fingers as he waited for Patrice’s father to meet him at the back of his truck. 

Across the way, the other men sat in small clusters, chatting their way through a midafternoon lunch break. As much as he wanted to talk shop with them about the fate of the Carolina Panthers, there was a more meaningful matter on the table. 

Leon grunted as he closed the driver’s side door and rounded the truck’s cab. “Let that down, will you?”

Terry sprung into action quicker than he meant to, nervousness making him move at hyperspeed. Leon laughed and lifted himself onto the truck bed before handing over a small cooler. 

“Grab whatever you like. We got plenty.” 

“Thank you, sir.” 

“Just Leon. Kinda weird to call your father-in-law sir, ain’t it? Plus that’s that fool’s name over there and he ain’t worth a damn. Lazy sumbitch.” 

“I got you. Won’t happen again,” Terry chuckled as he pulled a piece off of his turkey sandwich and popped it into his mouth. They sat in silence for a few moments to enjoy the sound of nature around them until he reignited the conversation. “I appreciate y’all agreeing to all this. Especially so quickly. I hope things don’t feel rushed.”

“You ain’t doin’ nothin’ I wouldn’t want for my girl. She need somebody willing to go above and beyond for her. I know you always have and I don’t see you slowin’ down no time soon.” 

Terry nodded, smiling. “Couldn’t if I tried.”

“I know. Moanie got the ring, right?” 

“Yeah. We worked it all out a couple weeks ago. She’s hiding it for me and keeping Treece distracted. You know she’s nosey.”

“Her mama said to call it inquisitive.” 

“Hm. Inquisitive, huh?”

They looked at each other and spoke at the same time. “Nosey.”

“That’s her,” Leon remarked. “Time’s flyin’, ain’t it? I remember when it looked like you was drowning in your clothes. Now look at you. Big as a damn tank. What they feed y’all in the Corps?” 

“Shit, nothing but slop and a hard time seasoned with a dash of casual racism from some crazy white boy outta one of the Dakotas every once in a while.”

Their shared laughter disturbed a cluster of nearby birds, making the rest of the men look in their direction. Sir threw his hands up in the air. 

“Well, damn, Leon. Gone ‘head and fuck up the catch!” 

“Or I can fuck you up instead.” He looked over at Terry struggling to keep his face neutral and shook his head. “I can’t stand his ass. Or his daughter. Or his wife. All of ‘em get on my nerves. C’mon, so we can finish up.”

As high noon gave way to early evening and the sleepiness of fall pushed the sun into the west earlier than usual, Imani and Patrice sat alone in one of the guest rooms engrossed in conversation. 

Imani was the only sister Patrice had ever known. It didn’t matter what portion of the world they occupied or how long it’d been since they last talked, they always picked up right where they left off when they were reunited. 

Patrice focused on the vanity mirror to examine Imani’s careful twists and twirls to place her thick natural hair into bantu knots.

“You think I can grow my hair out like this by January? I’m going to Ghana and I wanna switch it up a little bit.” 

“Of course. Manifest it, my sister!” 

Imani laughed as she parted out another section. “If I ever need somebody to follow up my foolishness, I know I can count on you.” 

“What Whitney said on the Waiting to Exhale soundtrack?” 

Together, they broke into song, harmonizing to breathe life into the final track from one of their favorite movie soundtracks. Imani hugged her cousin from behind and kissed her cheek. 

“I love you, girl. I miss you so much. It gets so lonely being away from home all the time.” 

“I love you, too. Life be life-ing, don’t it?” 

“All the time. I gotta make my way out to Fayetteville and spend more time with y’all. Maybe learn some more about Mister Man.” Patrice tried to hide her bashful smile, making Imani squeal behind her. “So…tell me about Terry. I know you said something downstairs but I wanna know the real scoop.” 

Patrice sighed at the mere thought of their romance. “The way I love that man, girl, I can’t even explain it. I feel like I’m going crazy.” 

“Oooooh! Swept you clean off your feet, huh?” 

“Threw me over his shoulder and hasn’t put me down since. Never in a million years did I expect to end up here with him. I mean I hoped for it, but to be here is mind-blowing. He’s so sweet, Moanie. So, gentle. Kind. More affectionate than I think I was ready for. I don’t know. I’m just in love. I’m happy.” 

“It’s all over you. I see the glow.” 

“Well, that’s from other things,” she added, a cheeky grin spreading across her face.

“Not the choir boy!” 

“Please, don’t let him fool you. Can’t keep him off me or keep his mouth closed when he gets to talking.”

Their shared laughter spilling out into the hallway became a beacon of their location for Terry as he dragged his tired legs up the stairs in search of Patrice.

His knuckles rapping against the closed bedroom door halted the private conversation until they gave him permission to enter. He slowly pushed the door open before poking his head into the room. 

“Everybody decent?” 

“Mhmm. Come on in.” Imani invited over her shoulder. She looked back at Patrice through the mirror as her cousin adjusted her clothing and sat up a little straighter in anticipation of Terry’s avalanche of affection. 

His eyes seemed to close beyond seeing clearly from the sheer force of his smile. 

“Hey, pretty.” 

“Hey, love. You have fun?” 

Terry released a dry chuckle. “Yeah. A real hoot.” 

Imani watched the young couple flirt back and forth, her hand outstretched to pass a small black velvet box from a drawer in her vanity to Terry while he kept Patrice occupied with short kisses. He secured it in one of his cargo pockets before pulling away. 

“You stink,” Patriced joked, half lying.

“I know. I still have some set-up work to do, so I’ll bring your stuff. Don’t want you to get behind on account of me.” 

“Thank you, baby. You’re so sweet.” 

Patrice captured his chin with her fingers and pulled him closer for another kiss. 

Terry lifted an eyebrow in concern. “You sick?” 

“No. I just love you.”

“I love you, too.” He couldn’t take his eyes off of her. The way she softened her gaze to scan his face. The way the gloss on her lips caught the sun. The way every one of her perfect features was on display with her hair pulled up and away from her face. He’d never been more confident in a decision in his life and, if not for the promise he’d made to half of her immediate family, he would’ve done what he drove all the way out to Wilmington for right then and there.

Knowing time was of the essence, Imani cleared her throat and gave Terry a look to urge him along behind Patrice’s back. 

“Well, Terry, think you oughta get down there and set up a table or something, right!”

Snapping out of his trance, Terry stood to his full height to look down at Patrice. “Yeah, you're right. See you a little later?” 

“It’s a date.”

He wanted to give her one more kiss to take with him, but a final reminder for him to scram was the catalyst to push Terry out of the room and leave the ladies to readying for the evening. 

She was all he could think about as he toiled away setting up tents and placing tables exactly how Rosalyn wanted them, sometimes several times over. Even as he casually sipped strong moonshine with Junior and the younger men under lantern light, all dressed in his most pristine white to fit strict instructions, he thought about Patrice and what might look like in the dress she’d chosen. He needed to see her.

His hands were sweating inside of his pockets. He casually caressed the velvet of that small black box, occasionally flipping it open to touch the cold metal inside. Time moved painfully slow. Hunger gnawed at his empty stomach. His mother’s constant phone calls for updates and reassurance didn’t help. Nervousness made his chest hot with anxiety. 

“You gon’ be alright,” Rosalyn assured while adjusting his collar on one of her many trips around the backyard to adjust the tablescape. “Breathe. Won’t be too much longer.”

He thanked her for her kindness and prayed she was right. Or he prayed for the dream he’d written down on a random Tuesday in his creative writing journal to come true. He wasn’t sure anymore. But, when he opened his eyes and lifted his head to check that sliding glass door for the umpteenth time, there she stood amongst the Habersham women as they escorted the guest of honor arm in arm. 

Angelic was the only way he could describe her. Cosmically beautifully and capable of bringing the strongest man to his knees just by batting those long lashes. A toothy grin helped him bare each one of his teeth as he watched her saunter down the decorated pathway to the event tent with Imani in tow. 

“Happy Birthday to you,” the group sang once Ida and all her ladies had made it to the long communal table packed to the brim with food and decorations. 

They serenaded the woman responsible for much of their existence until their faces ached from the singing. She bobbed her head along to the song with a smile on her face then quieted their loud applause with a simple wave of her hand. 

“Ninety-five of those and you’d think I’d be used to it by now,” she laughed. “Thank you. Each of y’all are beautiful. Young and strong. Blood of my blood and I’m glad to have you here with me. Even the ones who just came along to spend some time with an old lady. I love you. Eat, drink, and dance ‘til you bust out your clothes. That’s alright with me! We got a lot to celebrate.”

Teary-eyed and full of gratitude, Patrice reunited with Terry at the dinner table as soon as she ensured her grandmother was comfortable. He worldlessly dabbed at her waterline with his thumb and kissed the top of her head. 

“You okay? Need to step inside for a second?” 

“No,” she answered, laughing at herself for her dramatics. “I’m just really happy. C’mon. Let’s eat.”

Eat, drink, and be merry had a whole new meaning under the soft, warm light wrapping variations of black skin in its embrace. Loud pockets of conversation and laughter made for a melodious cacophony of sounds while music played in the background. 

Patrice clung to Terry the entire time, always staying connected by a hand on his thigh or their fingers laced together beneath the table. Every once in a while, they’d break from separate conversations and catch each other’s eye and smile like schoolyard crushes sitting at the lunch table together. 

The romance in the air between them was palpable enough for Imani to pull out her phone and covertly shoot Terry a quick text. 

Dessert’s out. Do it now or they’re gonna start dancing. 

Now?

NOW!

Terry eyed Imani across the table. She urged him to do something with a sideways nod. He chewed his lip and fiddled with the box in his pocket. The music was starting to pick up as a few small children hit the dancefloor. Imani gave Rosalyn the signal to make a video call.

Now or never. 

He nervously clinked his knife against his wineglass and cleared his throat. 

“Nigga, you gone break it! That’s Big Mama good crystal.”

“Shut the hell up, Sir! You ain’t pay for none of this.” Rosalyn’s reprimand came with visual daggers sent to her baby brother at the far end of the table that only softened when she looked back at Terry. “Go ahead, sweetheart.” 

Terry stood to look at every confused face in the vicinity while he waited for one of the teenagers to turn the music down. 

“Sorry, y’all. I just had a few words to say. I won’t be before you long. In the real way, not the pastor way.” His attempt at a joke fell flat. Patrice tried to keep him motivated with a smile, but her eyes begged him for answers that he couldn’t provide. “Um, I know I’m the odd man out around here. Y’all have been incredibly kind and welcoming. I really appreciate it because you didn’t have to. Especially you, Ms. Ida. Happy Birthday, again. You look beautiful.” 

“Thank you, baby.” 

He nodded his appreciation and continued. “I also wanna thank Ms. Ida and everybody else who gave me permission to ask a question of somebody really important to me. Because I know being here with all of y’all is really important to her. Can you stand up for me, Treece?”

Patrice allowed Terry to help her to her feet before whispering through her teeth. “What are you doing?” 

“Something I’ve been wanting to do since I met you.” 

There wasn’t time for Patrice to process his statement. Terry slowly dropped to one knee, not caring about the dust below him. He kept his focus on her the entire time, even as quiet whispers turned into fervent murmurs. 

“When we were kids you told tell me that, if you ever got proposed to, you didn’t want a big speech or any of the stuff they did in movies. So, I promise not to do that. What I will do is tell you how much I love you. And I’ll do that today, tomorrow, and every day after that if you allow me the privilege of being your husband.” 

“Terrence,” Patrice huffed out as she tried to contain her mess of emotions. He reached up to grip her hand. "Don't make me cry in front of my people."

“Too late. Patrice, I’m askin’ you scared as hell in front of all these people, will you marry me?”

Everyone watched as Terry presented Patrice with an open ring box and a sparkling diamond illuminated by the small light tucked into the inside.

“I knew it,” Patrice whispered, losing the battle against the happy tears pouring from her waterline. 

“No, you didn’t, girl! We got you. Answer that man,” Imani hollered.

Her heartbeat pulsed in her ears. The cheering from her family began to muffle. Her body temperature skyrocketed. She felt faint. The people were waiting. What would she say? 

Just as reality began to slip away, Terry’s eyes looking back at her quieted the external and internal noise. 

Driven by pure love, Patrice met Terry in a squat and grabbed his face with both of her hands. 

“What you doing tomorrow?” 

“Hopefully saying a couple vows to this pretty girl I know from way back. I brought a tux with me just in case she wasn’t too busy.” 

“From way back, huh? I think I talked to her and she has a little time on her books.” She took another look at the ring before plucking it from its box and placing it on her left ring finger. She examined it for a bit then leaned forward to kiss her betrothed with enough passion to send the crowd into a frenzy. Pulling away, she smiled and wiped gloss from Terry’s lips. 

“Let’s do it. Let’s get married.”

----

TAGS: @planetblaque @wvsspoppin @thatone-girly @avoidthings @slutsareteacherstoo @eilujion @amyhennessyhouse @yaachtynoboat711 @jenlovey @pinkpantheris @blowmymbackout @onherereading @hrlzy @becauseimswagman1 @thiccc-c @urfavblackbimbo @blackburnbook @ashanti-notthesinger @xo-goldengirl

[prettiedup]

can u do more tojiii 🧁

young & beautiful ୨ৎ

your parents are on a business trip, which gives you more freedom than a sheltered 20 year old should have. they left the country thinking their daughter would continue to drive around your suburban neighborhood, continue going to both your ballet and pilate classes, go to your college classes and stay there retaining all of the information you possibly can. it’s the basic things they expected of you.

little did they know you were far far from home. your expensive shoes plopped against the cracked concrete. in the distance, you could hear the sound of multiple police sirens ringing throughout. they seemed to grow close before disappearing and the crying sirens becomes quieter and quieter. your eyes take in the environment in front of you, the buildings that you could tell were once vibrant now lost their color. cracks and chunks of the bricks used to build them up were missing and large colorful vandalism littered spots on the buildings. corner stores with peeling paint and flickering neon signs offer a glimpse of the local people here struggling to survive.

it feels like a gray filter is casted on this side of town. and with winter being seconds away from approaching, everything is colder and dull. the sky grumbles, threatening—no, warning people of what’s to come. a group of guys are standing at a trash littered corner as you and toji past by them. you curiously look at their faces, they’re all already looking at you with a gleam in their eyes. you gasp to yourself and clutch toji’s hand tighter in fear.

“got ya’ a young one!” one of the guys call out to toji, “bet that pussy’s nice ‘nd tight!”

toji walks faster, his grip tightening on your hand. you struggle to keep up with his fast steps. his normal walking is your fast walking, you’re almost on the borderline of jogging. the fall air sores through your chest as you continue looking around the neighborhood curiously.

the two of you walk until you get to a worn down building. it’s littered with moss, vines, and graffiti. toji lets go of your hand to pick out a single key in his pocket.

“go inside. i’ll be back.” he tells you. you can’t stop yourself from frowning.

“i-what? no!” you say with widened eyes. as interesting as it is to be in a part of town that your parents demanded you never come over, things are still dangerous. the thought of going into a building you’ve never been inside and just waiting for him has your heart thumping in fear. anything could happen while he’s gone.

“‘m not askin’.” he could see you trying to form up some rebuttal, some way to argue with him and he can’t stop himself from rolling his eyes. “i’ll only be gone for about ten minutes. you can be a good girl and wait for ten minutes, right?”

you’re stiffly nodding your head while looking up at him. you try to convince yourself that ten minutes is not that long of a wait.

“i’ll knock six times and then say ‘gumi’. if someone knocks but doesn’t say the code word don’t open the door, understand?” he speaks carefully while looking into your eyes. he’s hoping all of his words are actually sticking and not just going through one ear and flowing out the other.

“fine..” you’re sighing and pouting, hoping that that’ll make him for bad for leaving you alone so soon.

he examines your face for a few seconds. he doesn’t say anything, the two of you quietly look into each other’s faces until a dog barks and interrupts you both. toji steps back, giving you more personal space.

you don’t know if you’re supposed to give him a kiss or hug goodbye. your relationship with him is still new and timid at times. your feet are moving before you realize it and your arms have a mind of their own as they wrap around his figure. to your surprise, toji accepts your hug, though it is awkward. he pats your head like some dog.

after a few prolonged seconds, he’s pulling you away from him. “alright, kid. go inside.”

and you listen. with shaky hands, you bring the key to the knob. to your dismay, it takes only a second to unlock the door. the door creaks as it slowly opens. you look back at toji one more time, he’s still waiting for you to go completely inside before walking away.

you let out a breath before stepping into his house. you make sure to lock the door behind you.

the inside of the house is sparsely furnished with basic necessities—a worn-out couch, a small dining table with mismatched chairs. there are warm tones of the walls try to add a comforting touch to the otherwise bleak space, but they can't hide the signs of neglect. the floorboards creak with every step, and the curtains are thin, barely filtering out the dim light from the outside light. you’re used to big elegant houses so to see something so small and compact has your eyebrows rising. as you tour throughout the entire house, every room is just about the same. bare with just hints of being lived in. you curiously open the refrigerator, you’re met with nothing. just a bottle of half drunken hennessy, and a sandwich. you’re in disbelief that someone actually lives like this.

luckily, the electricity worked. you turned the heat up before trailing into his bedroom. the room is a master, it has a queen sized bed in the middle of the floor and a single dresser with a tv sitting on top of it. you strip out of your clothing besides your bra and panties. you rummage through his drawers until you find a solid black shirt. you put it on, it fits you like an oversized dress. it stops right under your ass and the littlest movement would expose it off. you fold your discarded clothes, and place them on top of his dresser. you grab your phone and lay down on his bed.

his house is quiet. too quiet. there’s nothing to hear besides your thoughts. you can’t help but to wonder how he lives like this. so alone with nothing but his thoughts. you sigh out to yourself, it’s almost close to the ten minute mark.

you mindlessly scroll on your phone until you finally hear it. you rush out of his bed and make a straight line to the door.

knock, knock, knock, knock, knock, knock.

“gumi.”

you let out a breath and swing the door open. toji stands there with a. smug smirk on his face. as you look up at him, breathless, you notice a newfound small scar on his cheek.

“you don’t look happy t’see me, cutie.” toji practically pushes you to the side. you’re unsteady on your feet before catching your balance.

“no! i am! i’m very happy!” you exclaim. you watch as his fingers go to unzip his jacket, your eyes widen when you realize his knuckles are red and bruised.

his eyes follow what you’re looking at and when he realizes you’re reacting to his bruised knuckles he just chuckles. "i see you made yourself comfortable." he comments.

you bite down on your lip trying to hide your giddy smile. "it smells like you.”

toji only hums at your statement. he walks through his house and you follow behind him like a lost puppy. your uncertain steps travel closely behind his confident ones. he leads you to the bathroom, you don’t know if you should stop at the door or continue to waltz through.

“c’mon.” he ushers you.

he turns the shower on and lets it run for a little. he takes the time to take his clothes off, he smirks to himself when he sees your curious eyes linger on every inch of his body. once he’s bare, he walks over to you, pulling you closer to him. his hands wonder on your body before he’s tugging on your shirt, signaling that he wants it off. he helps you undress yourself, once you’re naked in front of him, he’s ogling at your body while letting out a pleased whistle.

“step in.” he tells you.

you follow his directions and step in the tub. now that you’re actually in it. the tub is quite condemned and with how big toji is you briefly wonder if the two of you are going to fit.

he hands you a white rag before stepping in behind you. you’re stiff, you’ve never showered with another person, ever. you’re used to showering in luxury bathrooms with the upmost space. you see that there’s only one bottle of body wash, which is also something you’re not used to. you use a plethora of skincare products that make you feel nice and clean, not some off-brand from the convenience store.

“since it seems like you don’t know how to wash yourself.” toji tuts before taking the rag out of your hands. he pours a nice amount of gel on the fabric before wetting it.

the feeling of his hands cascading around your body is .. weird. his movements are extremely gentle, he touches you like you’re some sort or sensitive rare artifact. you find yourself relaxing against his body as he cleans you. he starts from the neck and works his way down, even going so far as to clean the inside of your intimate areas with just water. you try to return the favor to him. he insists on washing himself but he does let you wash his back. once the two of you are cleaned, you stay under the slowly turning cold water until it’s fully freezing.

there’s only one towel out when you two step out. you look up at toji cautiously.

“forgot to grab the other.” he shrugs. he wraps the towel around your body and then opens the bathroom door.

you two make your way to his bedroom. you could hear the sound of rain pattering against the roof and occasional thunder blooming throughout the air. toji turns on a single lamp as a source of light.

the two of you dry off in your own towels. once you’re dry, you’re looking up at toji. the very few times you’ve been around him it feels like your brain stops working and you have to look at from guidance. you can’t tell if he gets annoyed by it or not, if he does he doesn’t say anything.

toji guides you to sit on the edge of the bed. before you could ask why, his lips are on yours. he kisses you greedily, he sucks up both your tongue and air. with you being not so experienced, you struggle to keep up with his experienced mechanisms. you can’t stop yourself from leaning back, and toji follows you. he makes sure not to drop his entire weight so that he wouldn’t crush you.

the two of you continue to sloppily make out for a while, the kiss morphing from just lips to tongue and spit swapping. you let out a soft moan as toji begins grinding his growing hard on against your clit.

he slowly pulls his lips away from your lips and moves his lipa down to your jaw and neck. he kisses you and occasionally licks spots here and there, he makes sure not to leave any spots on your neck. he’s grown now, if he was still in his early 20’s he would’ve left marks to let people know there’s already a claim on you. but he’s past that childish point in his life.

“y’wanna get fucked, baby? hm? ‘s that why you came alway over here?” he taunts you. his hips are moving faster and one incorrect slip up would have his cock slipping right inside your wet cunt.

“y-yes. please.” breathy gasps are escaping past your lips. the friction he’s creating is so delicious and addictive.

“g’na give it to you, baby. g’na fuck this pussy. g’na mold it to fit only my cock.” he’s letting out a drawn out groan as he slides his cock into you. you’re both moaning out to each other. the second all of his cock is fit into you, he’s immediately pulling his cock out only to slam it back inside of you.

he straightens his back, putting some distance between the two of you. he grabs your legs and places them on his shoulders. he watches as your boobs bounce with every rough thrust. his eyes trails along your body, the sight of you frantically clutching the bedsheets while still carrying this angelic look has him growing even harder.

“fuck.” you whimper out. his cock is so thick and it fills you up so well. “feel’s s-so good, tojiii.” you moan.

“mhmm. g’na let me fill this pussy up, ‘mma put a baby in you.” his breathing becoming heavier and you can’t help but gush out some more wetness at his claims of breeding.

“fuck a baby ‘nto me, tojiii, pleaseee.” you moan out.

toji grins at your words. if a baby is what you want, that’s what he’ll give to you.

[jazziejax]

𝐀 𝐍𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐫𝐲

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - Dev-Em x Black!OC

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 - 𝐔𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐬𝐡 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐮𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐮𝐩𝐬, 𝐚𝐬 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐬.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - flirting, mentions of sex, unknown world confusion, slight jealousy, and I tried to make this a slow burn but I might be a little fast with the way I’m going, idk

𝐉𝐚𝐳𝐳𝐢𝐞’𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 - I know it’s been a minute, I KNOW YOU WANT A BAD BOYS UPDATE, but I’m collecting more so I can release two at a time. Plus, I’m lowkey in a Snowfall moment right now and trying my best in to write for Franklin Saint/Damson Idris because once I’m in the mindset of the drug game, it’s hard to get out of. (I’m so dramatic 🙄) Imagine Leroy and Giorgio who you want, i had Danny Glover and Joey Bada$$ in mind. UNEDITED, sorry for any spelling errors and grimmer issues, I don’t like re-reading my own work :(

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 - 8,096+

“So, we need to get some sort of story in order before we see Uncle Leroy.” She said, her flyaways blowing within the wind.

The golden sunlight of Louisiana filtered through the dense canopy of oak trees draped in Spanish moss, casting dappled shadows on the winding dirt road. Magnolia had one hand on the steering wheel of her old pickup truck, the other tapping nervously on the door of the open window. The ride was silent the majority of the time it took them to get to Leroy’s. Dev’s eyes were trained out of the window, jumping between all of the different things he could as they went from the scarce homes of the countryside to the French-style city. He would see the occasional stray dog that ran with some others as they raced for scraps or a stork rise for the waters and fly off.

Magnolia would glance over now and then, watch as Dev leaned forward slightly, his piercing eyes scanning everything outside with the intensity of someone cataloging the world for the first time. She assumed speaking would snap him out of his thoughts, but his gaze was focused intensely out of the window.

“You don’t blink much, do you?” Magnolia asked, squinting over at him out of the corner of her eye.

Dev turned his gaze to her at that, his expression calm but curious. “Blinking is inefficient when observing. I might miss something important.” She stated.

“You sound like some sort is soldier.” She said, letting out a small chortle. She glanced over at him to see his eyes flicker away from her, his jaw flexing quickly as he trained his eyes out of the car again. She could see that her statement hit a nerve, so she just awkwardly cleared her throat. “Well, now that I have your attention.” She began as her fingers flexed on the wheel. “When we get to Uncle Leroy’s, just let me do all the talking, okay? He’s old and suspicious of everything so there will be a lot of questions and I don’t want his mumbo jumbo to confuse you.” Her words only caused Dev to furrow his brows slightly, glancing over at her.

“Mumbo Jumbo?” He questioned. Magnolia just blinked at him. “Right.” She said. “Uh, forget that. Let’s just get our story straight, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Um….”She trailed off as she thought, tapping her fingers against the door her arm rested on. “You’re a friend from college!” She stated, glancing over at him with a nervous smile. “We can say you’re in the military and you just got back from deployment and needed a place to stay.” She said with a grin.

“Why would I choose to stay with you?” Dev asked, blinking over at her. Her grin faltered slightly as she glanced from the road and over to him. “Because we’re college friends?” She asked herself more than she answered him, thinking over the logic of their plan.

“Why wouldn’t I stay with family?” Dev continued.

“They’re dead,” Magnolia stated simply with a shrug, not taking her eyes off the road as her grin appeared again since she came up with another take that seemed to fit their plan. “See, it checks out now.” She stated, not charging the way Dev’s eyes seemed to dim. His jaw tightened as he focused his eyes down at his hands, which were clenched together in his lap as he tried to keep his composure. “That won’t be too hard for me to adjust to.” He stated plainly. Magnolia glanced over at him due to his deep tone, deeper than usual. It was filled with dread and anger, although it was masked to seem like average indifference.

She blinked once she registered his words, her gaze returning back to the road. She internally cursed herself out for being so forward. She felt her heart clench as she thought it over again and again in her mind. He was so lost, in a strange world with no family. Everything was unfamiliar to him and he could barely remember how he ended up here. He was helpless. And she wasn’t making it any better.

“Well, let’s just scrap that all then.” She stated softly. “It wouldn’t make much sense for you to be in the U.S. military anyways with your accent and all.” She said, turning her head to look out of her driver-side window as she cringed again as words kept slipping out of her mouth. She didn’t mean to keep bringing up how different he was and his home but she couldn’t help it. They are coming up with his background story after all, so they don’t have to explain that he fell from the sky in some unknown object.

“We’ll just say that you’re an exchange student, in a way but still a college friend.” She began again. “You’re here to gain the full American experience, the one you didn’t really get in university since you were always on campus, and I’m your host.“ She looked over at him for any sign that she probably said something wrong again, only to be met with a simple nod from him. She subconsciously copied his actions before turning back to the road, engaging them in another moment of silence.

Magnolia wanted nothing more than to apologize. She felt that she always seemed to say the wrong things to him. She didn’t really know how to house anyone despite being the southern belle people assume she is because she bakes pastries at her friend’s cafe. So add not only a stranger but an alien, a hot alien that crashed into her backyard….She felt that she was owed the right to be a little confused and on edge.

She also couldn’t describe this strong pull she felt towards him. She felt this urge to care for him and be there to get him to open up some. Dev gave off this strong and intimidating aura, but she could see right through it with every little move he made. Granted, maybe everything she was thinking and feeling was the after-effects of the crash. It’s not every day something like that happens and it’s probably some reverse Stockholm syndrome. And it also could do with the fact that she was a decent human being and would always help another in need if she could But she hasn’t felt this sort of pull to anything or anyone besides Mufasa when she found him in the rain outside of work three years ago.

This entire situation was doing nothing for her lack of social cues and anxiety.

They rode the rest of the way to Uncle Leroy’s clinic in silence. Dev continued to observe everything around him, taking in all details he noted as worthy while Magnolia raced in what she would say next and whether or not it would lead to thoughts she didn’t want him to have.

Once they pulled into the parking lot of the clinic which was surrounded by other businesses, Magnolia stopped the car. “Follow me.” She said as she gathered her bag and then hopped out of the dark, unknowingly slamming the large metal behind her. Dev followed with no question, almost taking himself out as he tried to hurry after her and forgot he still had his seatbelt on. Magnolia turned around when she heard a soft strangled noise, but only saw Dev exit the car and quickly close the door behind him before fixing his clothes. She just simply shook her head, thinking it was nothing.

The bell above the door chimed as the pair walked in, Magnolia in front of him. He followed her to a small counter where he could see a woman sitting behind a computer, typing away. “Hey, Jess.” She looked up at the sound of the bell, offering a small smile to the familiar face of Magnolia, but doing a double take at the unfamiliar man behind her.

“Hey, Magnolia.” The woman said as she ceased her typing and once between the two. “What’s up with you today? You don’t have an appointment.”

“Oh, I know,” Magnolia stated nonchalantly. “I just need a walk-in for my—.” She paused mid-sentence as she glanced over her shoulder, expecting to find Dev in one of the available lobby seats, but was met with the sight of the man’s broad chest directly behind her. Her eyes quickly bounced up, catching his eyes when he looked down at her. “My friend. He’s new to…well, the country.” She added as she looked back over at the woman behind the desk, letting out a small laugh at the end. Dev looked back at the woman as well, giving her a polite smile. “Hello.” He said.

And it was as if the sound of his voice ignited something within the woman, causing her to let out a giggle as she looked at him. “Hi.” She grinned, not taking her eyes off of him. Dev blinked at her, his smile only faltering slightly at the woman’s odd behavior. Magnolia's brows twitched, looking at the woman who was no longer paying her any attention and cutting her eyes to the tall man next to her who seemed to be a little uncomfortable.

After flicking her questioning gaze between the two for only a few seconds longer, she cleared her throat. “Jess?” She said.

“Yeah?” Jess responded her eyes only momentarily leaving Dev’s figure to look over at Magnolia as she bit at her lip, trying to keep her grin at bay.

“We’re gonna go to my uncle's office, Kay?” She said, not even trying to set up a walk-in appointment anymore. She was going to lie and say the man knew she would be here but there was no point in any of that since the receptionist seemed more than occupied just staring at the man next to her.

“Yeah, sure.” Jess sighed, still looking at the man next to her. Magnolia blinked, trying to keep her words at bay as a sour feeling spread through her chest. She just gave the woman a sarcastic smile, not that she could even see it, before reaching back and grabbing ahold of Deb’s hand to pull him away.

Dev didn’t protest the feeling of the woman’s grip on him, only glancing down at the contact and up at the back of her head as she pulled him through the foggy glass door to their left. It was silent as she dragged him down the hall, passing rooms with doors open as waiting patients sat for a doctor and some closed as they convoluted over their meeting. Dev could feel the annoyance radiating off of her Magnolia as she led him through the hall of the small clinic. He couldn’t tell what had her angry, but by the way, she gripped his hand and the small frown he saw before she turned her back to him, she was a little ticked off.

She composed herself when they got to a wooden door near the end of one of the halls she led them through. The name ‘Dr.Jenkins’ was written on the foggy glass panel in gold ink and fancy writing. Dev watched as Magnolia took in a deep breath and then let it out, her eyes closed as she tried to gain a sense of herself back.

She then turned and looked up at him, trying not to jump back at the sight of his bright eyes already on her. “You ready?” She asked, her voice as soft as ever.

“Yes,” Dev said, giving her a single nod. Magnolia nodded herself before opening the door, not even caring to knock.

Her smile was large as she stepped into the room, Dev’s hands still in hers. “Hey, Uncle Leroy.” She said to the man behind the desk, who looked up at the sound of his door opening. The man had small, rectangular glasses sitting on the edge of his nose, looking over from the papers on his desk and over the frames to see them.

His face automatically broke out into a grin at the sight of the woman. “Hey, my little moon pie.” He said, his voice light and smooth with a scruffy undertone. He stood from the seat of his leather chair, and that’s when Magnolia finally let go of Dev’s hand, moving to meet the man halfway, around the large dark wooden desk, in a hug. Dev watched as she smiled largely as she wrapped her arms around the man, trying not to pay attention to the cold feeling that washed over him once her hand left his.

They rocked back and forth for a few seconds, savoring the embrace. They then pulled away from the hug with a breath, the older man looking down at the girl. “It’s been months.” The man began, a fond look on his face as she looked down at her. Magnolia let out a small sigh, looking aura from the man’s gaze. “The only time I hear from you is when I see you at church or work. We barely talk anymore.”

“I know, Lee, I know,” Magnolia said. “I’ve just been busy since..everything.” She said, sparing Dev a quick glance out of the corner of her eye when she paused. Dev caught on to what she was saying, but oddly enough he had a feeling she wasn’t alluding to him when she mentioned everything.

Her eyes cut to him and the man before her looked his way. The brown-skinned man's eyes scanned Dev up and down skeptically before his eyes drifted back to Magnolia only briefly. Magnolia avoided his eye, her lips pursed into an awkward smile as she gazed at Dev.

“Ah, so this is what’s kept you busy.” The man stated, before stepping around the woman. Magnolia gaped in shock at his words, tilting her head as she tried to decipher what he meant by that. Before she could question him, Leroy spoke back up, now standing before Dev. His shoulders were squared as he looked up at the taller man. Dev kept his ground, although he did shirk himself in slightly due to the man’s smaller but as well as intimidating stature. The younger man studied the older man before him, taking in his salt and pepper goatee that matched his small fro.

“And you must be?” Leroy said before holding out his hand. Dev placed his hand into his, each of their grips firm on the other. “I am Dev-Em, sir.” He answered. Magnolia silently winded when he said his name but quickly fixed it when Leroy furrowed his brows and glanced over at her. “Dev-Em?” He repeated back to the man, his tone giving way to his confusion.

“Deven!” Magnolia yelped, causing both men to look over at her. “Deven, you have to say your full name, silly.” She quickly added, letting out a nervous laugh as she eased her way over to stand back next to the new man in her life. Her smile was strained on her face and she hoped the facade wasn’t obvious as she placed her hand on Dev’s bicep. “Sorry about him, he’s getting used to the whole Southern Hospitality thing.” She said to Leroy as she glanced between him and the man she stood next to. Dev was confused by the ordeal taking place before him but just went with whatever the short woman next to him said. That is what she said in the car on the way over and he was following her orders.

“His name is Deven Embrose. He’s from the United Kingdom. It’s, like, a lil nickname thing they do over there.” She finished, her hand still connected to Dev’s skin, to which she gave a small pat.

Leroy nodded, placing his hands in his pockets as he gave the tall man another once over. “So I heard.” He said, giving a lowly gesture to his mouth as she referred to the other man’s accent. “I’ve met a few men from across the pond in my day.” He nodded. Magnolia let out another bout of anxious laughter, unknowingly leaning into Dev’s side more. Neither of them seemed to pay attention to the touch she was applying, but Leroy did glance between them suspiciously.

“Anyways!” Magnolia was quick to inject before more questions about Dev’s past could be asked. “I’m here because he needs a check-up.”

“A check-up?” The older man asked. “Why? What happened?” He questioned.

“Oh, nothing much.” Magnolia shrugged. “There was just…a tumble that..occurred.” She explained as nonchalantly as she could, making up a lie on the spot. Leroy furrowed his brows again, his eye dating between the close pair. His suspicions were loud and clear within his gaze, especially in the way he eyed the random man who was with someone he considered a daughter.

“A tumble?” He echoed.

“Yup,” Magnolia said. “It happened when we were moving his things in. He fell down the stairs with a large box in his hands.”

“Fell down the stairs?” Leroy questioned in shock, his eyes moving across the young man before him to gauge any serious wounds on him at such a serious incident. Magnolia was quick to interject his scurrying mind. “Not down all of the stairs! It was just a small tumble down, like, the bottom five. Right, Dev?”

“Yes.” The man replied with a firm nod.

It was silent for a moment, the younger duo standing close as they waited for the older man to speak.

Leroy just nodded, completely unsure and a little stunned by whatever was going in before him. He just subtly shook his head as he blinked. “Okay, well why don’t we just go to one of the available rooms and get this checkup started.” He said with a small grin. Magnolia nodded as she moved out of the way for Leroy to walk through and led them to the room.

Once he was out, Dev looked down at the woman who made her way out of the door before him.

“You’re..bad at this.” He murmured. Magnolia shot a look at him over her shoulder, taken back by his audacity. “What?” She said but didn’t have any time to respond before she stopped outside of the room Leroy did.

He clicked the lights on and gestured them into the space. “Have a seat.” He said as he moved over to the counters that held tons of average-grade medical equipment. The sound of rubber stretching echoed within the small room as Dev sat on the leather seat of the operation chair. The chair was pretty large but the big man that sat in it made it seem like it was made for his form. Magnolia stood near the chair, her stature putting her at the perfect height so that she didn’t have to crane her head to see Dev’s face clearly.

Her lips were pursed as Leroy turned around with gloves now on his hands and his stethoscope out of his white coat.

“Okay, now why don’t you just take a deep breath in for me.” He said as he stepped over, placing the bell of the tool on Dev’s chest. Dev did as he said, his chest lifting outwards. “Now, release.” Dev followed his instructions, breathing out. Leroy just let out a small hum before taking the tool out of his ear and hanging it on his neck. He then took out a pen-like flashlight from his coat pocket and clicked it on.

Magnolia stood off to the side, watching the whole produce as Leroy foaled the small light into Dev’s eyes, who flowed a little upon impact but did as the man instructed about where to look. Leroy stood with another hum, pocketing the pen. “Everything looks fine to me. I’d just need to run a few more tests before you can head out. Let me alert one of my nurses.” He said before stepping out briefly.

He came back only seconds later. “So, Deven.” He began in a questioning tone as he began to switch out his gloves. His cadence caused Magnolia to throw her back as she released a silent groan, her movement catching Dev’s attention. He furrowed his brows at her as he watched her go back to normal when Leroy turned back around. “What do you do?” He asked.

“Military, sir.” He stated, his eyes briefly jumping to the woman next to him, making sure he remembered their small conversation from the car. Magnolia’s brows twitched as she tried to keep them from peaking since she wasn’t all too sure if they had scrapped the whole military story in the car or not. She could’ve sworn they decided not to go with that idea. And while she was having a mini internal freakout, Leroy just nodded. “What branch?”

“The Navy.” Magnolia was quick to add since she was certain most of this wasn’t covered in their small conversation from the car ride over. “Marines, more specifically.” She nodded.

“But why are you here? In America?” The old man continued to question, not paying much mind to her interjection this time.

“I got injured.” Dev was quick to respond, taking the woman who had eased her way next to him aback. “It wasn’t severe but it caused a lot of physiological trauma so I retired. I also wanted a change of scenery and Magnolia offered to house an old friend.” He explained. Leroy’s stare was stagnant, never wavering from the man as he listened to his story. Magnolia was still quite shocked. Not only at his quick thinking but also the way her stomach fluttered at hearing the sound of her mane on his lips for the first time.

“Okay,” Leroy said. The pair just blinked at him.

“Okay?” Magnolia replied, her tone slightly questioning. “That’s it?” She asked. Leroy just nodded. “Yeah. I’ve known you a long time, so I know how careful you are. Plus, you’re a grown woman. I’m not gonna ask too many questions.” He stated. Magnolia just nodded, and she honestly didn't think she had it in her to be shocked by anything anymore. If anything, the last 24 hours have proved anything is possible.

“But I still do have to run these tests.” He said as he glanced down at his watch, just time for a nurse to push in the machine that would check his vitals and blood pressure.

It didn’t take them long before they were out of the door.

“That was stressful.” Magnolia sighed, her shoulder slightly slumped as she walked before Dev as the pair made their way back to the lobby, Leroy absent since he had an actual patients waiting on him. “I’m stressed. I need something sweet.” She groaned. She then glanced back over at the tall man behind her. “You want something sweet. Ya’ like ice cream? I could go for some ice cream.” She rambled as she opened the door that looked like the one they walked into earlier, however, this door led them out on the opposite side of where they walked into, to the right of the receptionist's desk.

“I do not know what that is,” Dev stated. Magnolia paused and turned to him, just staring at him as she tried to gauge any sight of a lie within his gaze. Seeing the plain look the man was giving her, just staring into her eyes with no questions asked, she then broke out into a grin. “Oh, Dev, sweetie, I have so much to show you.” She said, her soft southern drawl almost luring him into a trance as she placed her hand on his arm, subconsciously rubbing her thumb against his skin.

It was however broken by the sound of someone speaking.

“Hey.”

The pair both looked over at the sound of Jess’s voice, the woman’s eyes trained solely on the man in front of her. She stood from her chair, showing her dark purple scrubs as she leaned forward to the tall counter and pushed over a small card. “It’s for you.” She said, a sultry grin on her face as she didn’t hide the way she eyed the man before her. Dev’s brows spiked a little in interest, the man reaching over and picking up the small piece of paper to see it held an odd series of numbers.

Magnolia tried her best to hide the frown that began at her brows as she watched, her eyes jumping between the ever-stoic Dev and the thirsty receptionist, Jess. She didn’t know why, but she got this sour tang in the back of her throat at the sight of Jess’s obvious flirting. Whether it was the way she didn’t care to even ask more about Dev before throwing herself at him or the fact that she was doing this all on the clock, hell, even the possibility that she and Dev could be together. She couldn’t care less about the specifics when this woman was obviously throwing herself at him right in front of her.

Dev blinked at the small card before looking back up at her. “Thanks.” He said, no smile, not even a nod. He just held the white card stock up in acknowledgment. Magnolia softly scoffed before quickly turning on her heels and strutting out of the clinic, her bunch of curly hair swinging on the top of her head. Dev was quick to follow her, not even sparing the woman behind him a glance as she tried to keep up with the only thing he knew in his new life.

The bell above the door chimed as they exited the clinic, entering the blazing sun shining down on them even from under the awning. Dev could feel a source of every course through his veins as he stood in the light but didn’t have time to focus on it before he felt the small card be ripped from his hands. He watched as Magnolia ripped the paper into pieces and then pocketed the scraps. She then pulled her keys from her purse, all in silence as Dev simply watched her.

Due to the pause in the atmosphere, she looked up once she held her keys to her truck to see the man staring at her. “What? I don’t litter.” She said before turning from him and walking over to her truck.

Dev followed behind her as usual, getting inside the odd contraption as he did before. “What was that she’d given me?” He asked as he copied the way to put on the seatbelt from watching her, glancing back now and then to see if it was correct.

“Her phone number.” She replied.

“What’s that?”

“It’s the way we communicate here without being face to face. We write letters as well but that takes too long. But then again, we also have electronic letters such as emails and text, so, I don’t know.” She shrugged, her tone flat as she started the car and began to pull out. Dev nodded, taking in what she said at face value since she didn't seem too in the mood to offer more context. Something both of them didn't bother to question.

“Why did she give me her number? Aren’t you her friend?”

Magnolia scoffed, glancing over at him. “Hell no, I’m just nice to her because it’s the right thing to do. She’s just doing her job and she works for my uncle.” She shrugged again. “And she gave you her number because she don’t want nothing but to get in the drawls.” She scoffed again, her tone bridging in pissed as she gripped the steering wheel.

“What?” Dev asked full-on confusion written across his face as he looked at her, not even focused on his task of gaining information by observing his surroundings. Magnolia paused, glancing over at him to see the look he was giving her. “She wanted nothing more than to just sleep with you, Dev.” She said bluntly. “That’s why she gave you her number. So you could call, talk, flirt a little, go out, and then hook up.” She explained as if it was obvious. Dev understood most of what she was saying, but he was still sort of lost on some parts.

“Hook up? What is that, how do you hook up?” He questioned.

“Sex.” She stated. “Hooking up is sex. Mating. The act most things do to reproduce offspring.” For some reason, she had no trouble explaining such things to him. Even though it was sort of awkward because she never really had to have “The Talk”™️ ever in her life, especially with a grown man, and with the way he was staring at her so intensely. But it seemed to just flow out. This conversation would probably be their easiest because every culture and race had to have sex…right? That’s how they had to reproduce?

“Ahh.” Dev nodded once he understood what it all meant. He then frowned, as if thinking over it all now. “She wanted to mate with me? We wouldn’t even be compatible. Her genetic makeup doesn’t offer anything to mine.” He said. Magnolia squinted her eyes in thought, blinking as she registered the way he stated that in her mind. She opened her mouth to respond but came out saying nothing.

“Hey, the check-up wasn’t so bad, was it?” She chimed in after a moment of silence. Dev glanced back over at her, giving a silent nod before realizing she probably couldn’t see him. “It went well. Odd, but well.” He said. “You’re terrible at lying on the spot, though.” He added.

Magnolia opened her mouth to say something snarky at his comment, but could only let out a small sigh. “Yeah, I know. I get nervous when being put on the spot.”

“Your uncle is an interesting character.”

“Yeah, he gets that a lot. I say he’s a little nosy but he likes to call it cautious. My grandma used to blame his age but he’s been like that my whole life and I’m almost thirty.” She told, a fond grin making its way into her face as memories began to flash in her mind. Memories filled with the family she used to have and the good times she always thought of before closing her eyes at night for a good night's rest.

Dev could sense the newfound softness in her voice at the mention of her grandmother. He stared at her, watching the subtle smile grace her lips as she zoned off within the hum of the road. He wanted to question more about what seemed to be the connection between the old man and her but could tell it was a sensitive subject by every mention of her. That and whatever that small conversation between her and Leroy was before his presence was made known.

“So, you wanna try some ice cream or what?” She suddenly asked, glancing over at him. Dev simply nodded, causing her to grin as she drove to the perfect spot.

────୨ৎ────

Before he could even get to observe his surroundings, they out of the car and walking into another establishment that had a lot of windows. The bell above the door chimed again, causing him to look up. “Another bell. Why the bell?” He asked, following closely behind the woman as his senses became invaded with a plethora of smells and sounds. He blinked frantically with a small frown, trying to clear his mind of the loud noise that surrounded him.

“It alerts the staff that new customers have arrived.” He heard Magnolia’s voice speak over the chaos, and it was as if that was all he needed to snap back in. Honing in on the sound of her voice caused the other sounds around him to come to a halt, to the point where he didn’t even hear them anymore. “It gets annoying but diners tend to keep that traditional vibe for some reason.” She finished with a shrug. She gave the person behind the counter a large smile with a wave before moving her way through the diner.

The pair passed countless booths that held a variety of people, from kids who were full of sugar and agitating their parents to groups of teens who gossiped around the small devices in their hands. Dev looked around at it all while it seemed that Magnolia led them somewhere she wanted to go since some of the tables they passed were empty.

He stopped, watching her drop herself into a booth by the window, scooting in the middle of the seat. Dev followed suit, watching as she pulled the large menus from the little folder stand next to her and handed him one.

He copied her actions, looking at the variety of names in the list before him. Some held small pictures of the food next to its name, but majority of the list he had no idea what was. Except water and he wasn’t quite sure why that was on the menu since it held no price next to it.

“I have no idea what any of this is.” He spoke as he placed the menu down on the table with a little force, sort of fed up with being utterly confused by most of everything around him. Magnolia hummed, placing her menu down as well with a nod. “I figured. Are you hungry?” She asked.

“No.” He shook his head innocently, staring at her. “I ate quite a bit this morning.” Magnolia let out a small chuckle at his words. “Boy, don’t I know it. I’m gonna have to go grocery shopping this week. I mean, I know I cooked it all but usually I have leftovers.” She said. Dev looked down, his eyes darting to his hands on the table. He couldn’t help but feel a little bad at that. That he was invading her space.

Magnolia’s smile faded slightly. She reached her arm across the table, placing her smaller hand atop his large ones. “Hey,” She said in a soft tone. She tilted her head down just as he looked up at her call, connecting his bright-colored eyes with hers. “I’m just pokin’ fun.” She stated with a mere grin. “I’m happy to have you in my home. I know have someone who can respond to the nonsense that I say.” She chided, causing him to let out a small chortle.

“You do talk a lot.” He stated nonchalantly. Magnolia blinked at his words. “Okay, ouch.” She said, but her smile was still there to let her know she wasn’t actually hurt by his words. Their small bonding moment was then interrupted by the sound of a voice coming up to them.

“Who comes to work on their day off?” The smooth voice of a familiar man spoke up, causing the pair to look over. A large smile instantly broke out into Magnolia’s features while she looked up at the man who made his way over to them, her hand unknowingly sifting away from Dev’s, that cold feeling enveloping him again just as it did at Leroy’s clinic.

“Someone who loves their job,” Magnolia said, looking up at him as he stopped in front of their table. The man rolled his eyes at her, pulling a notepad out of his coat jacket. “Yeah, whatever, kiss-ass. You just got a raise out of me. You’re not getting another this soon.” He said as he flipped the pad and pen in his hands.

“Oh, you’ll know when I’m kissing ass, G.” She said, causing them both to let out a small laugh. The man’s gaze then drifted to Dev, who eyed the obviously familiar pair with a subtly arched brow. The stranger held out his hand, his gold watch peaking from underneath the expensive brown suit he had on, the man standing out against the rest of the diner. “Giorgio Clarance, nice to meet you.” He introduced himself.

Dev placed his hand into his, both of their grips firm as they stared at one another. “Deven Embrose.” He said, speaking the name Magnolia made up earlier. It felt weird coming off of his tongue, unnatural. He just hoped Giorgio couldn’t tell.

The overdressed man hummed at his words. “Around the way type of guy, I see.” He said with a nod. “Cool.” He stated simply, giving the man a plain once over before directing his attention back to Magnolia. Dev furrowed his brows at the man’s dismissal of him, one that was a little hostile with the look he was just given. He tried not to read much into it, but he couldn’t help but question if he felt that Giorgio was throwing at him.

“He’s my boss,” Magnolia spoke up, seeing the questioning look on Dev’s face, thinking that’s what he was questioning. “He owns this place.”

“And others,” Giorgio added with a smirk.

“And others,” Magnolia repeated in a stupid tone, playfully rolling her eyes at him. Dev's eyes jumped between them. He nodded at what Magnolia told him “I’m a chef. Well, a baker.” She stated. Dev's eyes gleamed at that, and he was about to say something to her about her occupation before Giorgio cut in.

“A Chef.” He retorted firmly, looking down at her with a small frown. “What did I tell you about cutting yourself short? You are a chef.” He said, and Magnolia softly rolled her eyes at him again, looking down at her hands, though she couldn’t hide the soft smile on her face at his words.

“All I know how to really do is bake.” She said softly, looking up at Dev as if she was answering him. He could only offer her a polite smile back before her eyes drifted away and toward the man who stood next to them.

“You make amazing pastries for two a five start restaurants.” At this point, he had leaned down, slightly holding his weight on the table with his hands so he could be closer to Magnolia. Magnolia looked him in the eye, her face as neutral as it could be due to his praise. As if this proximity for them was normal as if they did this all the time and were fine. Dev, on the other hand, was not fine. He raised his hands from the table, leaning his back against the cushion leather seat of the booth. His brows twitched into a frown, staring the at side of the man’s head as his view of Magnolia was almost blocked. Almost.

“In the diner, you may be the baker, but at Augusto’s Chevalier, you’re a chef.” He explained, never once taking his eyes off the woman next to him. “You think they differentiate all that back there in that kitchen?” Magnolia squinted her eyes at him with a slight tilt of her head.

“They literally do?…in every kitchen.” She said, understanding the point her good friend was trying to make but also not seeing how a restaurant business mogul didn’t know such a thing.

“Yeah, whatever.” He said with a shrug as he waved her off playfully.

She rolled her eyes at him again. “Are you gonna take our order or not Mr. Hotshot?” She asked with a playful smirk, looking at the man decked in a nice suit and gold jewelry whose face stood only a few feet away from hers. She caught sight of Dev’s bright eyes next to his briefly, staring at her intensely. She felt a chill run down her spine at the gaze, but her eyes never directly met his.

“No, actually. I just came to speak.” He said to her with a small smile. He then turned his head, giving the man next to them a sideways glance and another once-over. He let out a dry chortle that was barely audible before rising from his relaxed position to stand fully. “This is just for show.” He said, gesturing to the pen and paper he’d gathered from his large blazer.

“Good, because we’re not even ready to order,” Magnolia said. Giorgio just hummed with a nod, giving her face one last good look. “It was nice seeing you, Magnolia.” He practically purred, his eyes trained on her face. Magnolia nodded at his words. “It was nice seeing you again too, G.” She said, giving him a soft smile. Giorgio couldn’t help but smile at the name, his perfect teeth showing as he looked at her, gleaming in contrast to his chocolate skin. He blinked before his gaze drifted to the other man at the booth. He nodded his head down at Dev before walking away from them, passing by Magnolia.

Dev sat there, watching the man leave their table. He didn’t even offer a nod back to Giorgio. He just stayed in place, a stone-cold look on his face, even when Giorgio glanced back at Magnolia with a smirk, said woman eyeing the menu. His eyes drifted to Dev’s, his grin turning more sinister before leaving his eyesight.

“Not gonna lie, I could go for a butter pecan.” He was snapped out of his trance at the sound of the woman mumbling to herself. “I’m definitely getting up there because I used to hate that shit.” She let out a small chortle of herself. Dev’s gaze moved across her form, not speaking as he continued to think about the interaction between Giorgio and Magnolia. “I never had pistachio, maybe I should try that.” She said, continuing her search, unbeknownst of the watching eyes she had on her.

She then looked up, slightly shaken to see the man’s gaze on her already but didn’t speak on it. “I’m gonna start you off simple with a waffle cone and some chocolate ice cream. I know vanilla is more basic, but I said simple, not plain.” She stated, waving her finger about as she explained the rundown to him, her abundance of jewelry clinging about. “But don’t get me wrong, I love a good vanilla. Especially a homemade one? Tuh! Word around town is your girls makes the best.”

“I think Giorgio wants to hook up with you.”

Magnolia’s head jerked back at Dev’s statement as her smile dropped. “What?” Her face contorted between confusion and disgust but also a little bit of intrigue as she tried to gather what Dev saw. “No, I’m positive he does not.” She said, letting out a nervous laugh at what her newfound friend said.

“He was acting a little like Jess.” Dev continued, not taking his eyes away from the woman in front of him. “Just a little different.”

“That’s just how we interact here.” She said softly, sitting forward more in her seat to lean closer to him as she began to explain. “He’s technically my boss and I’m his worker. In today’s time, to create a more healthy work environment, bosses tend to be friendly to their staff so what they’re doing isn’t considered slave labor.” She said letting out a small chuckle. “That and so their bond is somewhat like a work family and that there’s a trust put into everything said company produces.” She explained. She then worked her head, looking him in the eye. “We’re just friends.” She said softly. “Barely even that, we’ve never even gone out for a beverage.”

“He looks at you a lot,” Dev continued to comment, his face still the same even though this warm feeling spread through him at the way she was gazing at him over the table. He had subconsciously leaned forward in his seat and against the table, the pair sitting closer to one another.

“That’s what we do here. Eye contact is expected in most settings.” She said, her eyes stuck on his. They were practically whispering now, faces sort of close as they leaned across the table. “I mean, look at us now. I look at you, you look at me.”

“That is because we are having a conversation.”

“Were me and Giorgio not having a conversation?”

“Yes, but even when you weren’t looking at him, he was looking at you. Everywhere.”

“You look at me all the time.” Magnolia was quick to add to their small and somewhat silent argument, ignoring the last part about Giorgio’s eyes drifting over her figure when she wasn’t looking.

“I am observing because I am new here. What’s his excuse?” Dev added with a small tilt of his head. Magnolia let up a quick gasp at his words, looking him up and down. “Oh, you’re a little sassy when you want to be.” She said with a playful grin. Dev’s face stayed stoic, causing her to let out a small laugh. “Dev, relax and pick out an ice cream door before it gets dark out.” She said, jerking her head out of the window at the cloud-covered sun. “I hate driving in the dark.” She said softly before going back to her menu.

Dev blinked at her before looking down at his menu in front of him, both still leaned forward on the table as they observed what they were going to have.

His mind was clouded, full of questions and thoughts regarding not only the ones Ms out of his new life, it whatever was going on between Giorgio and Magnolia. Dev was no stranger to emotions, as oddly as he acted about them. He’d never really felt such staring emotions about anyone, not even his intended, but he’s seen those who have. And he could see that there were feelings between the two, even if it was one-sided. And something was telling him that Giorgio was the one that fancied her more, which caused this acidic feeling to enter the back of his throat and made his face want to contort into a scowl.

Giorgio rubbed him the wrong way and it’s not just because he’s into Magnolia. Although, Dev wasn’t quite sure why that last part bothered him more.

Magnolia on the other hand was simply a little confused. This had been the first time anyone had ever told her such a thing about her and Giorgio. Although they weren’t friends who went out anywhere, they’ve been around and conversed with others, and nothing of the sort has ever come up. She didn’t know what Dev saw, or if she could even trust his judgment since he was new to earth and e everything.

What bothered her most was that she wasn’t sure if she disliked the thought of Giorgio liking her. It was her boss after all and that wouldn’t be good for business, so she was more than likely never going to outside anything, but she couldn’t deny that he was an attractive man. A wealthy attractive man with a Brooklyn accent that dressed well. To Magnolia, he was a city boy through and through, and that intrigued her southern little behind. He was no blue-collar man, but she wasn’t picky and didn’t necessarily have a type. She was just used to one thing. All that to say is it were true, she wouldn’t mind hopping on the ride.

She was snapped out of her thoughts by Dev’s speaking.

“I don’t want to hook up with Jess either.” He said, causing her to look and connect their eyes. “Ever.” He finished. Magnolia blinked in confusion before simply nodding. “Okay.” She said before looking back down at her menu. Dev frowned, looking at the top of her head.

“And you don’t want to hook up with Giorgio, right?” He questioned. Magnolia let out a small laugh before looking back up at him. “No, I do not, Dev.” She said softly, looking into his eyes, which were now a soft green. Even though she sort of contradicted her previous thoughts, she was telling the truth, she didn’t necessarily want to hook up with him. Dev’s eyes jumped between hers, trying to see if he could almost sense a lie from her. He then blinked with a nod. “Good.” He said, looking at her intensely before going back to his menu. Magnolia frowned in confusion at him in what he meant by that but was cut off by Dev speaking again.

“When do we get this ice cream? Where is it coming from?” He asked, looking over his shoulder as he observed the thing in the diner. Magnolia pursed her lips, watching him.

“There's so much you have to learn, honeybun, so when we get home, we’re watching movies.” She said. “There’s only so much I can do for you, sweet pea.” She said as she shook her head with a sad smile.

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