#or the one about the sheer embarrassment of wearing sunglasses

[reedilla]

I just hailed a cab for the first time in a while and let me tell you it was so awkward. So humiliating. Oh you want someone to drive you around? You stick your little hand out on the side of the street like a fool and wait for someone to perceive you and pull over? At this point cabs are cheaper than uber but at what cost

[eevees-hobbies]

Honeyed Kisses Against Tender Flesh (Fem!Reader x Hayato Suo) - NSFW

Author’s Note: I got carried away with this one. But shoutout to those of us who write for Hayato Suo cuz we really are working with crumbs. Like he’s whatever we say he is until we get more information. 

Synopsis: Your friend Kotoha and brother Hiragi are worried about your relationship with Suo. It all comes to a head at the beach, to your embarrassment and Suo's delight. No big deal, though; you’ll just have sex against Hiragi’s truck or whatever. 

Content Warning: I’m a really bad judge when it comes to dark content. To me, it’s a spectrum and while I don’t consider this particular story truly dark, others might. So I encourage you to read the warnings and make the best decision for yourself:

Smut with a plot, the obsessive kind of love, possessiveness, hickeys, bruises, biting, spit, enjoyment of public humiliation, teasing, licking of blood, sex/nudity in public, super brief mention of a golden shower, praising/worshipping language, unprotected sex, no-pulling out despite being asked (wrap it up, folks!), like he straight up says “nah.” 

Also, please note that you are written as Hiragi’s sister in this story. I do not expand on your relationship, so you might be his half-sister, full-sister, step-sister, adopted sister, etc. I say this for my readers who may hold a racial/ethnic identity different from Hiragi, hoping that you can still feel like this story is for you (because it is <3). Minors Do Not Interact.

Word Count: 3.2K

Divider by Saradika. Story banner by me.

On a day when you and your Bofurin friends decide to visit the beach, the unforgiving intensity of the sun makes you feel as though you’re simmering in a boiling pot. No one except you is ill-prepared; the men are wearing various colored shorts that seemingly match their personalities, and their unclothed torsos are on full, unapologetic display.

Kotoha, sitting on a beach towel next to you, is in a three-piece halter bikini set with a sheer sarong skirt that accentuates her curves. Even your brother Hiragi has abandoned his usual band shirt to showcase his well-toned arms and abs. You find it pretty horrifying but good for him, you think. 

It’s hard not to be jealous of all the bare, suntanned skin as you take inventory of your fit. You are wearing an oversized grey hoodie and sweatpants combo that covers every inch of you. Underneath your hefty clothes is a simple but cute black two-piece bikini you originally planned to show off that day. 

You are roasting under the sun's rays—and in your anger—as you glare at the person responsible for your attire: Hayato Suo. 

He’s sitting on the beach towel with you, his perfectly parted hair blowing softly against the breeze. Despite his attempt at trying to appear inconspicuous in reading his book, you can tell that he’s very much aware of your disdain for him with the way the corners of his mouth twitch upwards. 

Kotaho lowers her sunglasses so she’s looking at you over the rim of the frames.

“Why are you wearing a sweatshirt and sweatpants at the beach of all places? I’m getting hot just looking at you.”

You shift uncomfortably, having hoped that this was not a conversation that would come up. You instinctively pull the collar of the sweatshirt higher until it’s tucked snuggly under your chin. “It’s not so bad! I just have to stay hydrated!”

Kotoha leans closer to you and lowers her voice, obviously trying not to catch the attention of Suo. “But why? Is this a cry for help because of you-know-who? Say the word, and I will scream.”

You and Kotoha have become close since you applied for a position to work at Cafe Pothos. She was your boss, but she’s also the embodiment of a girls-girl. You bonded over cooking and annoying brother figures; there wasn’t a thing you didn’t know about each other. 

So color her shocked when one day she picked up her cell phone after receiving a series of texts that were coming in rapid succession. She had assumed the sender was Umemiya, but instead, they were from you!

8:50 PM: OMG 8:50 PM: You won’t believe what just happened to meeeeeeee ihfdnf 8:51 PM: SUO! SUO! 8:52 PM: He KISSED me!  8:55 PM: HELLO?! The love of my life just put his tongue in my mouth and you HAVE THE AUDACITY TO NOT ANSWER!? I’m heading to the cafe right fucking now.

Kotoha was confused, not because she didn’t think you deserved the world—you deserved the world and more. She was confused because she couldn’t picture you and Suo together. He was pleasant whenever he came into the cafe, only ordering tea and always leaving a big tip. But other than that, she didn't know much about him, and no one did, and that was a difficult thing to accomplish in a small town. 

So when you finally ran into the cafe, practically colliding into the glass door as you shuffled in, Kotoha poured you a fresh cup of coffee, sat you down, and asked if you were sure about this.

Were you sure it was a good idea to date a guy who wore an eyepatch, had never been seen eating, and had a different story about his life every time he was asked? You assured her that Suo was the man of your dreams and you’ve never been more sure of something in your life. And while Kotoha may not know much about Suo, there were small moments that felt as though you were gradually building up to this kiss all along. 

The way he’d offer to walk you home even though it was out of his way, how his hand would brush up against yours and linger when passing you coins to pay for his tea, and god, that smile of his that usually didn’t reach his eyes but did when he was talking to you.

You were adamant that this was something you wanted.

You didn’t exactly come out as “official,” though. In a strange way, your relationship just “was.” 

Your friends acted as though you had always been together, and the way Suo became a constant in your life—walking you home after every shift from the cafe, texting and calling you more often, holding your hand in public, and taking you out on dates to your favorite places—made it difficult to remember what life was like before him. You quickly became the shadow of the other, and not without concern from Kotoha and Hiragi. Some would call your love for each other smothering, but to you; it was anything but that—it was perfect. 

“Everything is fine, Kotoha, I promise.”

She lets out a sigh and pulls her sunglasses back up. You can see the reflection of the guys in her dark shades—Hiragi, Umemiya, Sakura, and Kaji playing volleyball, sand kicking up as shouts of, “get that, doofus!’ and “who are you calling doofus!?”  traveling over to you but being drowned out by the roar of waves breaking shore.

A bead of sweat travels down the side of your face, and you look up at the sun, hoping to will it away with a pitiful look.

“Why not take off that burdensome outfit, sweetheart?” 

Your head snaps in the direction of Suo, the tone in his voice–thick with faux concern–alluding to the pleasure he’s getting from watching you like this. He’s all too aware of what you’re hiding—he’s the culprit who put you in this situation.

He shrugs innocently, “you’re developing sweat stains,” you follow his finger as he points at you. To your horror, giant wet spots have formed at your armpits and collar. You groan, the realization that if you don’t shed these clothes soon, you’ll likely meet your untimely demise via heatstroke—and that’s a very unsexy way to go. 

A shaky hand grips the drawstring of the sweatshirt, and you peel it off with the sweatpants following shortly after. Before you can set the clothes beside you, Kotaha lets out an audible gasp. You wince, knowing that your movements and her sharp intake of breath will surely draw the boys' attention—a result that you were trying your damnedest to avoid.

You thought Hiragi’s booming voice would be the first to reach your ears, but instead, it’s Sakura’s. 

“What happened to YOU?!” 

The volleyball spinning through the air hits him square in the chest; a loud thud has him doubling over in pain, but it’s not enough to break away Hiragi’s stare from the bruises and hickeys that litter your neck, chest, and thighs.

After gathering himself, Sakura stands up and turns his attention to Suo, “You should really keep a better watch over your girl. She’s obviously getting her butt kicked somewhere-”

Sakura is unable to finish before Hiragi interjects. He takes a step forward, and if you weren’t on sand, you’d be almost positive that the sheer force would shake the earth. “Suo, what did you do to my sister's skin?”

You stare at Hiragi, deep veins already protruding from his forehead. If looks could kill, Suo would be dead right now. You give a sideglance at your boyfriend, who has two hands raised near his head and his shoulders shrugged up to appear non-threatening. 

“I am NOT doing this right now!”  You proclaim, hurriedly picking up the keys to Hiragi’s car and padding through the sand, trying your damnedest to escape the sound of rising voices. 

Suo follows you soon after de-escalating the situation. Assuring Hiragi that he may have gotten carried away with the amount of hickeys and bruises he left on your skin wasn’t easy by any means, but you two were both consenting adults, so there wasn’t much Hiragi could do anyhow. He desperately wanted to add that you didn’t mind the bruises when they were happening to you—but that didn’t seem wise.

Hiragi’s truck is parked next to the property line between the beach and the expanse of forest. When you arrived, the parking lot was full of people, but beach-goers packed their belongings and left as the day neared its end.

Suo can’t see you as he approaches the truck's passenger side, so he assumes you’re on the driver's side. As he rounds the corner, he’s met with the sight of you bending over and attempting to fish the keys off the ground, which must have fallen. The sight of your ass completely swallowing the seat of your bikini bottoms has him suddenly leaning against the car for support and blood flowing south. Even with one eye covered, he can see the outline of your puffy pussy. The bikini is much better, he thinks to himself.

You turn around, hearing the sound of gravel shifting quietly—hoping that your brother hasn’t followed you, but it’s Suo. 

“Well, that was awk-“ you begin, but you're cut off. The fluidity and quickness of his motions still surprise and catch you off guard. He pins you in place to the truck with his body—chest to chest.  

You can see arousal churning in his eye as his now rock-hard cock presses against your thigh. At that moment, you’re thankful that the shade of the trees shrouds this side of the truck and that anyone coming from the beach would need to walk around the vehicle to catch you in the act.

For Suo, the build-up of knowing what you were trying to hide from the group and the eventual reveal of his handiwork had given him one hell of a rush. Being in on the secret was fun, but the way Hiragi’s eyes darted over your skin, the way he caught Kaji’s cheeks reddening as his eyes swept over your exposed and marked-up flesh, it was practically unbearable.

Suo’s hand tugs at the string of your bikini top, and it doesn’t take long before the flimsy fabric releases and drifts to your feet. You shiver as cool air licks at your breasts and nipples, hardening the sensitive buds upon contact. It isn’t until Suo’s warm hands cup and massage your breasts that you let out a whimper; his touch feels firm and needy, delivering pinches and squeezes to the over-sensitive and bruised flesh.

“S-someone could c-catch us!” You protest in a hushed whisper, but you’re not pushing him away—you tilt your head back to rest it against the truck and arch your spine to give him more access to you.

“They’d be so lucky,” he growls softly into your neck.

As your stomach twists in arousal and nervousness, you know that the Hayato Suo who is fondling you in the parking lot against your brother's truck is a different Hayato than the one your friends interact with. 

Suo is often poised and has immense control over his emotions, but sometimes, he gets so overcome by desire that it feels like a gaseous cloud is seeping into your pores and lungs. 

You’ve become a welcome victim to the Suo that likes to grip you so desperately that he leaves bruises, bites you so hard that sometimes it breaks the skin, and fucks you so roughly that you’re confident that you’ve experienced the closest thing you can to death.  

“Suo, we shouldn’t. They saw my bruises and the hickeys. Toma might kill you.”

“You can’t convince me that this isn’t something you want. This,” he presses two fingers against the seat of your bikini, which sink into the moistness of you, “tells me otherwise.”

Your face grows hot because he’s right. You’re not innocent in your shared dynamic like Kotoha, and Hiragi would like to think—you crave him just as much as he craves you. 

You’re just as much of a thrill-seeker as he is but you two have to be quick; anyone in your group could come looking for you any second—and nothing would destroy your arousal more than Hiragi seeing your boyfriend fucking you in public. Suo would enjoy that, though. 

It’s as though he can read your mind because Suo is pulling down your bikini bottoms so that they hang around your ankles. 

His lips are on yours, his kisses somehow hungrier than his touches. Suo kisses you as though he’s found solace against the plush of your lips and the treasure housed within your mouth. He tilts his head so his tongue can explore every inch of you deeper; he’s unapologetically devouring you.

When he finally pulls away for air, his voice is low and almost gravelly, a departure from his usual calm tone.  

“You make me become the most disrespectful version of myself, Y/N.”

His fingers roll and pinch at your nipples, but his eye is on yours. His gaze is intense, and even though he looks at you as though you are his prey and he is your predator, the last thing you want to do is look away.

He continues, “I want nothing more than to be the nice, sweet boyfriend your friends and brother want me to be, but you turn me into someone I don’t recognize.”

He’s pushing his shorts down, and you groan at the sight of him. His dick sits straight up against his abdomen with a slight curve, an aggressive vein pulsates on the side, and the crimson tip of it is smeared in an ungodly amount of precum. How can such a pretty dick look so angry? 

Without much prep or warning, he pushes into your wet sex; he’s so deep so quickly that your body jerks reactively. 

He can’t hold back the moan that escapes his lips at finally burying himself in you. His mouth has found purchase against your neck; both he and you can feel your pulse quickening, firing rapidly against his tongue as it reaches out to lick at your skin. 

“When I look at you, just as you are, I want to ruin you. So if that means I’m covering you with bruises, hickeys, or the most intimate parts of me, so be it.” 

He sinks his teeth into your neck, and the sharp pain makes your eyes roll back. The searing sensation doesn't last long as his tongue laps up the droplets of blood that bubble from the punctures.  

��Tell me that you’re just as obsessed with me as I am with you,” his fingers are digging into the soft flesh of your thighs as he holds your legs around his waist, allowing him to bounce you on his cock.. 

“H-Hayato, I’m just as obsessed with you, baby. I promise.”

And you mean it. You’ve never felt a love quite so all-consuming and suffocating. He’s explored every inch of your body; at first, the way his eyes drank you in made you squirm, but he assured you that he was simply appreciating what was his—you wouldn’t fault an art curator for appraising the Mona Lisa, would you, Y/N? No? Then let me be.

Suo has licked parts of you with enthusiasm, parts that you’d be embarrassed to admit to anyone. 

And for you, the taste of him is just as nourishing. When he pulls your head back by your hair,  his hungry eye communicating to you without him having to say it, you find yourself eagerly opening your mouth and accepting his spit on your outstretched tongue. 

The good girl muttered in his smooth voice afterward, and his infamous smile that reaches his eyes when he looks at you makes your clit twitch. 

It doesn’t matter if it’s his spit, cum, or other golden liquid of his, you want it all. 

During intimacy, Suo tears you down to the most basic, hedonistic version of yourself—his delivery never includes harsh language in the traditional sense—he would absolutely never call you out of your name. You are far too important to be called something derogatory. Sometimes you’ll refer to yourself as “his whore” or “his slutty girl,” and it will make him leak so much precum he has to catch his breath, but he hasn’t reached a point in which he has personally referred to you as those titles…yet.  

For now, he uses deft fingers and honeyed words dripping in veiled threats of orgasm denial and overstimulation to push you to the precipice of your pleasure—and you trust him to build you back up afterward with softly cooed hymns of worship and strokes of your tender skin. To Suo, you are a goddess, a deity to be revered. To Suo, you are everything. 

And it isn’t until moments like this that you see his mask slip. Your usually stoic boyfriend's mouth opening and closing in pleasure the same way that yours is, soft guttural moans escaping his lips and his brow furrowing, obviously about to lose control to you—-for you.

“You are everything, dove. You are my everything.” He groans as your silky walls clench around him, clutching him for dear life.

“You like it when I compliment you, pretty girl?”

You give him a grunt of approval, feeling yourself so close to becoming undone as he fills your head up with chants of his devotion.

At this point, each thrust has his dick bottoming out into your sopping-wet cunt. Pelvis to pelvis, you can feel every inch of you stretching to accommodate him. His maroon-colored pubic hair tickles at your skin, dampening at the contact of your slick as deep thuds from frantic thrusts fill the air.

And even though you’re only participating in a quickie, a rarity for you both, your cunt still drools just the same, streaks of it managing to glide down your inner thigh and leave droplets at his feet. 

“S-suo,” your nails dig into his shoulders, resulting in a delicious hiss from his lips. “Y-you have to pull out! You aren’t wearing a c-condom!”

Suo presses his lips to your ear; you can barely make out what he’s saying over the soft gasps and the way he’s suckling at your earlobe that he has pulled between his teeth.

“I can’t. You’re mine, and I want to fill you up. So you have to take it, dove. Take all of it.” 

And the way Suo says it, you know that he isn’t asking; he’s telling you what he plans to do to your body because you are an extension of him–you are his, and it’s his right to cum in you without silly obstacles like “protection.”

His pounding against your cervix feels animalistic, and the force of him fucking you is making the truck rock back and forth. 

You bite your lip and hold onto him for dear life as that oh-so-familiar feeling takes over. Your thighs squeeze him, and to muffle the scream bubbling up into your throat, you take a note out of Suo’s handbook and bite his shoulder so hard that he sees a hot, white flash. 

In that moment, you give each other everything—all of you becomes all of him—mixing into a mess of creamy, frothy white essence that drips down balls, legs, and thighs.

Between soft kisses on the fresh hickeys and bite marks along your neck, Suo chuckles, “Hiragi is going to be upset.”

[krirebr]

I Know I Should Know Better 2

Pairing: Curtis Everett x Female Reader, minor Colin Shea x Female Reader

Word Count: 5418

Summary: Curtis has been working as your body guard for almost two years now. Standing by and watching you work and party your life away is becoming more and more difficult, but is there anything he can do about it?

Warnings: Angst, adult themes, complicated power dynamics, minor age difference (not explicit in this part, but reader is mid-twenties and Curtis is early thirties), drinking, explicit language, bad boyfriend, self-destructive behavior, anxiety, negative self-talk. The reader's having a bad time, you guys. All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

A/N: We're back! I so enjoyed writing this part. I hope you like reading it! Any comment, reblog, or ask to let me know what you thought will be greatly appreciated. As always, thank you so much for reading! 💜

You were stretched out on one of your lounge chairs by the pool, sunglasses perched on your head, wearing a bikini with a sheer coverup draped over your shoulders and an aperol spritz in your hand as you tried, for the third time, to get through this script.  It was unbelievably dull. And the female lead was barely a person. You were clearly wrong for it. At least ten years too young, for a start. But your agent, Wilford, was insistent that you read it. Some up and coming guy was attached to it and apparently, he could be ‘talked into you’ for it. And as Wilford always said, “It’s not what it is, it’s what it represents.” So you would read it. And you’d tell him why you didn’t like it, and he’d talk you into it anyway. Same as it ever was.

  You heard the door to the patio open and close. Michelle and Curtis had both been out doing who knows what and now you figured one of them was back and needed something from you. You’d been grateful to have the time on your own after a few days of Curtis’s careful glances. You didn’t remember exactly what you’d said or done after your fight with Colin outside the club, but you woke up with the feeling that you’d said something to Curtis and the way he’d watched you since seemed to confirm it. But he hadn’t said anything, so you hoped that you hadn’t embarrassed either of you too much.

When you looked up, it wasn’t either Curtis or Michelle who was standing on your deck.

“Mom!” you said. You blamed your shock for the fact that the next words out of your mouth were “Who let you in?” She was supposed to go through Michelle if she was going to visit, give a few days notice, let you prepare yourself.

“Who let me in?” she asked, aghast, her Chanel bag swaying aggressively from her arm. “That’s how you greet your mother? Who let me in?”

“I’m sorry,” you said, voice small. You were not prepared for this today. “I was just surprised.”

“Yeah, I bet you were,” she said, rolling her eyes. “You and your rules. Well, if you must know, it was the young man with the goatee and muscles. I don’t think I’ve seen him before. He’s not nearly as rude as the other people that work for you.”

“He’s new on my security team. His name’s Jensen.”

She waved dismissively at that. Of course she wouldn’t be bothered to remember. She sat down on the lounge chair next to yours and fanned her long, floral caftan out around her. “I bet you don’t give your father this runaround.”

Your father only ever called you on your birthday and at Christmas, content to live with his new family in Utah and only drop your name when it could get him something. So technically no, you never gave him the runaround.

“Well, how are you darling?”

“Um,” you bit your lip. Conversations with your mother always felt like a game you didn’t know the rules to. “Fine, I guess.”

She hummed in affirmation. “You’ve been all over the gossip sites.”

You groaned. “You shouldn’t look at those. It’s all bullshit.”

“Well, maybe if my daughter called me occasionally, I wouldn’t have to resort to a google alert to see how she’s doing. People on deux moi are saying you’re rude to your fans. And then there are reports of you fighting in clubs with your boyfriend.”

You shrunk in on yourself. Michelle did her best to keep all that away from you, but you still knew how people talked about you. “I told you. It’s all bullshit,” you mumbled.

“Well, it’s not the sort of reputation you want to have.”

“I know,” you said weakly. 

“Whatever happened to that other boy you were seeing? What was his name? Jimmy? With the snowboard? I liked him”

“Johnny? I haven’t talked to him in, like, a year,” you said. She’d only met him in passing when you’d unexpectedly run into her at a restaurant opening. It’d been right in the middle of the one month you’d dated him.

Your mom scoffed. “Well, who can be expected to keep up, with how quickly you go through them?”    

You clenched your fists where they rested on your thighs. This was just how she was. Feeling hurt by her never did any good. “Why are you here, Mom? Do you need something?”

“I’m here because I am your mother and I want to have a relationship with you, even though you don’t seem to want one with me. But,” she paused and you fought the sinking feeling in your stomach, “now that you mention it, Luka and I are going to France next week and what you’ve given me for the month just isn’t going to cover it.”

You closed your eyes for a moment. Of course this was about her allowance. “Mom,” you said, focusing on the part of her request that didn’t have anything to do with your money, “who is Luka?”

Her face went hard. “You would know who he is,” she said, “if you ever listened to me. You’ve always been so self-absorbed, you know that? You never think about anyone else.”

Your hand moved to grip the chair beneath you as you tried to take a deep breath. You were sure she’d never mentioned him before. You would remember. For all she gave you a hard time about dating around, she was just as bad, if not worse. The only difference was that her hookups didn’t get reported on. But you didn’t have the energy for the screaming match this would devolve into if you pointed that out, so you just said, “I’m sorry. I must have forgotten.”

“Sure,” she scoffed. “He’s someone who’s very important to me. And so is this trip.”

“You know I don’t control any of that. You have to go through my accountant.”

“Yes, I know,” she said, frustration bubbling over. “I already called him, obviously. He said you have to sign off on it first. It’s like you all think I enjoy having to come here and ask for money. When it was my hard work that got you all this.”

She loved to do this, bring that up. And you knew that she’d worked hard and sacrificed a lot. You did. She was the one who got you an agent and drove you to auditions and acting coaches and put your team together. But both your parents acted like you were just a doll that they’d placed in front of the cameras and then pulled your string to make you talk. You’d worked hard too and you were just a kid when you did it.

But, again, if you said any of that it would just start a fight and if you’d learned anything on all those sets as a child, it was that fights with your parents were to be avoided at all costs. You would never win. So you just said, “I know, mom. I know everything you’ve done for me. I’ll call him and tell him it’s fine.”

She started to brighten. “Today? You’ll do it today?”

“Yeah, I’ll do it today.”

She patted your knee and smiled warmly at you. You did your best to pretend that it didn’t feel like the sun coming out from behind the clouds. “You’re such a dear,” she said. “We’re trying to get everything booked, so time is of the essence! Text me the name of the place you stayed last time you were in Paris. Your pictures were incredible!” She was getting up now, hoisting her bag back up her arm.

“Are you leaving?” you asked, disappointed despite yourself. 

“I’m so busy, honey, So much to do! But let me know as soon as you talk to him. And we’ll have dinner as soon as I get back, you, me and Luka! And you can bring your boy too! I want to try that new sushi place, down on Vine? They’re booked out for months, but I’m sure they’ll have a table for you!” Just as she was getting to the door back into the house, Curtis came out of it. He stepped out in front of her, narrowing his eyes, and pulling himself up to his full height. “Perfect timing,” she muttered, “your guard dog is here.”

“Mom,” you sighed.

She just rolled her eyes at you. “Calm down, it’s fine. He knows I’m joking. Don’t you, Carter?” You grimaced, but Curtis didn’t react.

“Ma’am,” he said, without any inflection at all. You could see her bristle at the address; she hated anything that reminded her that she was old enough to have an adult daughter. But she didn’t say anything else, just gave you one final wave and then moved past him into the house.

You took a deep breath, and then another, wrapping your cover up around yourself as tightly as you could. “Are you ok?” Curtis asked, startling you. He was closer now than you’d realized, standing right beside you. You’d never understand how a man that large could sneak up on you like that, but you were always surprised by the reality of him.

You shook your head and his brow furrowed. You shook it again, “No, I’m fine. I’m fine, it’s just–” you trailed off and shrugged. She always left you so jumbled. “It was fine.”

“It shouldn’t have happened,” he said, sounding deathly serious. “Jensen’s been talked to. He knows better now. It won’t happen again, not without Michelle’s say so.”

You nodded and picked at your sleeve. “Do you think I’m awful?”

“Why would I think that?” he asked, his voice so soft.

You shrugged. “She’s my mom and I make her jump through all these hoops just to see me.”

He nodded slowly and stared out over your pool. “I think,” he started, but then paused for a moment. “I think that you aren’t the kind of person who would just do that for the sake of it. I can’t imagine you ever being that spiteful. If this is something you need, then there’s a reason for it.”

He did that sometimes, made statements about your character that left you reeling, that made you wonder about the person he saw when he looked at you. It always seemed so different from the person you saw in the mirror. 

You looked up at him, but he was still focused somewhere on the horizon. You were struck by how beautiful he was, as the sun shone down on him. His broad form, immaculate stubble, long lashes. You tried to think of him as just the wall of muscles that protected you from the world, but it was getting harder every day to ignore the ineffable Curtis-ness of him. He was so much, too much.

“What’d she want?” he asked, finally breaking the silence.

“Money, like always.”

“You ever think about saying no?”

You shook your head. “She’s not wrong when she says she sacrificed a lot and worked hard to get me here. She did. I wouldn’t be here without her. If this is what she wants from me,” you shrugged, “I feel like I should give it to her.” 

He hummed at that and went quiet again. You looked down, went back to picking at the thread on your sleeve. After several moments, he said, “I think if you looked at all the sacrifices you made to get yourself here, and everything you’ve already done for her, you might see that you come out more even than you expect.” He finally looked back at you and nodded to himself. “I’ll leave you alone now. I just wanted to make sure you were ok.”

As he walked back into the house, you felt like your skin was too tight. You tried to shake it off and grabbed your phone. It was too quiet. You needed something to distract you. You pulled up Colin’s contact and sent a quick I want to see you text. Then you threw your phone on the lounger, shrugged off your cover-up, and dove head first into the pool.

When Colin showed up a few hours later, he was on you immediately, pulling you out of the pool and back over to the lounge chair where he settle you between his legs. “Fuck, you’re so hot,” he breathed into your chest as he laid back, bring you with him. When you resisted, he sat up, pushing his face into your neck and starting to trail kisses along your collar bone.

“Colin, it’s been a weird day,” you said, trying to push him down. Instead of backing off, his lips found your chest, just above your bikini. You tried again to slow him down. “Hey, hold on. Come on. I’m trying to talk to you. My mom stopped by out of the blue.”

Colin finally sat back with an annoyed huff. “Okay?” he said, “And?”

“And, I don’t know, seeing her always makes me feel really off and I just wanted to see you. Wanted you to come over and make me feel better.”

“Isn’t that what I was doing?” he asked with a grin, running his hands down your sides and then up your back, stopping to play with the string tying your bikini together.   

“Colin, I’m being serious! I just, like, want to tell you about my day and have you listen to me. Okay? I just need someone to listen.”

He looked up at you and you leaned back a little at the annoyance in his eyes. “You seriously dragged me all the way out here to talk at me about your mom? I left a studio session early for you.”

“Ok, well, I didn’t know you were busy! You could’ve just said.”

“You’re so hot,” he said, starting to paw at you again. “How could I say no to you?”

Maybe he was right. Maybe this was the best way to make you feel better. What good would talking do? What you really needed was to stop thinking. You leaned into him again and he picked up where he left off. “We could go out,” you said. “Get real fucked up.” 

“Mmm,” he said, with his face in your neck and his fist in your hair. “That sounds fun. You gonna promise not to abandon me in an alley this time?”

You pushed back against his shoulders and sat up with a glare. “Don’t be a dick.”

He rolled his eyes. “It was a joke. I’m joking.”

“It isn’t funny. I already apologized. And you never apologized for flirting with that girl.”

“This again? Seriously? I didn’t apologize because I didn’t do anything wrong. I wasn’t flirting, you’re just insecure.”

“Fuck you,” you said, standing up and putting as much distance between you as you could on your deck.

He rolled his eyes at you again and started picking up his stuff. “You’re so fucking high maintenance, you know that? One of these days, I’m going to wake up and decide you aren’t worth it.”

“Yeah?” You sneered, the pit in your stomach that started with your mom’s surprise appearance growing bigger. “Is that going to be before or after you use my instagram account to boost your album sales?”

“Fuck off. You think you’re so important. I don’t need your help.”

You threw your arms in the air. “Then why do you keep demanding it?”

“Whatever. I can’t believe I came all the way out here for this.” He shot you one final glare, before heading back out the way he came. 

You stood at the edge of your pool and looked out over the canyon that expanded beyond your property. “Fuck!” you shouted. It didn’t make you feel any better.

You picked up your phone and started scrolling through your contacts. You didn’t want to be alone right now. You just needed someone to talk to. But everyone in your phone was a ‘going out friend’ or an ‘impromptu house party friend.’ And suddenly, the thought of going out, with the loud music, and flashing lights, and all the paparazzi yelling at you, made you want to crawl out of your skin. You scrolled through your whole contact list again. You didn’t have a single person who you thought might drop everything and come spend the night on your couch with you. You didn’t think you ever had. You felt tears starting to gather in your eyes and quickly wiped them away. This was dumb. You were fine. You could spend one night alone.

You walked back into your house to find Curtis glaring at his phone, leaning against your kitchen island.

“Hey,” you said, trying to get his attention. When he looked up at you, you saw him take all of you in. Your wet hair, bikini, tense shoulders, and your eyes, which you could feel were still damp. He straightened up, looking very concerned. “Um,” you looked down, feeling like you needed to avoid his gaze, “I’m not going out again today, so you’re free to go. You and Jensen.”

“Ok,” he said. 

You looked back up to find him still looking at you carefully. When he finally started to move, you panicked and added, “Or, um, I’m probably just going to order a ton of food and just, like, watch TV, so if you wanted to, you could, um, you could stay. And, like, just hang out.” What the fuck did you just do? You were so pathetic. Why would you do that? What was wrong wit–

“Yeah, sure, I can stay.”

“Oh!” You didn’t know how to keep the shock off of your face. Or the intense relief. You started to feel yourself calm, just a little bit, for the first time all day. “Ok, great. I’ll just order the food – Thai ok?” He nodded. “And then take a shower and change. I’ll be right back.”

“Take your time,” he said. “I’ll let Jensen know that he’s good to head home.”

You just nodded and went upstairs.

After a long shower, you dressed in your comfiest pair of sweats and a large old t-shirt, clothes that usually stayed buried at the bottom of your drawer. You went down to your living room to find Curtis unpacking the bags of food onto your coffee table, the TV softly playing at a low volume.

“Thanks,” you said quietly.

He looked up at you and nodded. “I grabbed a couple beers too, that ok?”

“Yeah,” you said, grabbing one and pressing yourself into the corner of your large sectional.

“You want a little of everything?” he asked. He didn’t wait for an answer before he started making you a plate.

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I know.” He handed you a plate piled high and a fork, then started serving himself. “You doing ok?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you shrugged, “just a shitty day.”

He sat down a few spaces away from you. “Colin wasn’t here very long,” he said with a practiced casualness. 

“No,” you frowned, “he wasn’t.”

“Can I ask you a question that’s none of my business?”

You looked at him warily, “Sure.”

“Why on earth are you with him?”

You couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of you. “Uh,” you stopped to think, “the sex is pretty good.” He’d known where your clit was, which was more than you could say for a lot of your exes. “He can be fun to go out with. And we look good together. I don’t know, he gets it, which not a lot of people do.”

Curtis looked at you confused, “Gets what?”

“The whole thing. Just, what it means to be with me. Like, that I’m going to get recognized when we go out, and there’s always going to be paparazzi around, and sometimes I’m going to have to be on location for months at a time. It’s just there’s all this stuff around me. Being with me, it’s asking a lot, you know? But he gets recognized too, sometimes, and he doesn’t mind getting his picture taken and he goes on tour and stuff. He’s more willing to put up with it all.”

His brow furrowed. “You shouldn’t be something to be ‘put up with’”

You shook your head and waved his comment away. “You know what I mean. Anyway, moot point, probably. I think I’m done. He wasn’t very nice to me today and I’m just kind of over it.”

“Probably just as well. His band is terrible.”

You let out a big, loud laugh at that, head thrown back, as you felt some of the stress of the day slide off of you. When you glanced at Curtis, he was watching you, pleased. Proud of himself. It sparked a little blossom of warmth in your heart, and you ducked your head. 

After a few moments of comfortable quiet, he cleared his throat. “For the record, anyone who makes you feel like it’s hard to be with you probably isn’t worth being with.”

You didn’t know what to say to that. You could feel him watching you but you were suddenly too afraid to look at him. After too long a pause, you said, “Well, you just described all of my exes, so…” with a weak little chuckle. He didn’t say anything, but you could feel your feeble attempt at a joke fall flat. You focused intently on your plate and shoved some food in your mouth for want of anything else to do. After a few minutes, you tried to change the subject. “I feel like now I should get to ask you something that’s none of my business.”

“Yeah? What do you want to know?”

“I don’t know,” you said, looking back at him. He leaned back into the couch, plate balanced on one thigh, a beer in his hand. It was the most relaxed you’d ever seen him. “I don’t really know anything about you.” You studied him carefully, feeling like this was your one chance at something, you weren’t sure what. “What were you like as a kid?” you asked without thinking, and then immediately regretted it. What an embarrassing question.

He didn’t laugh or roll his eyes at you, though. He just took a drink of his beer and then said, “Angry. I was really angry all the time.” You didn’t say anything, waiting to see if he’d volunteer more information or change the subject. He took another drink, then added, “I grew up in a few different foster homes and I was just mad, at everything. An angry little thing. Finally, when I was a teenager, I crossed paths with someone who gave a shit. Helped me figure out how to channel it, move past it.”

You sat for a moment, deathly afraid of saying the wrong thing. You didn’t want him to think you felt sorry for him, pitied him. You didn’t. But it felt glib to say you admired him for it or that he must have been so strong. You settled on “Thank you for telling me.”

He nodded and took a bite of his food. Once he swallowed, he asked “What about you? What kind of kid were you?”

You blanched slightly. You normally hated talking about your childhood, but in this moment it felt like it might be ok, like you didn’t have to sugarcoat it. Like you wouldn’t get in trouble for being honest. “I was really lonely. Um, I was never really in school? Or, I guess I was for the first couple years, but my parents were constantly pulling me out for auditions and commercials and stuff. And then when I was 9, I booked the show, and so from then on it was all studio tutors. And there were never really any other kids on the set. So, I don’t know, I was just by myself a lot of the time. Or with my parents.” You grimaced. “Even now, I feel like if I’m not working, I don’t really know how to interact with people. Never really learned how.” 

“You’re doing fine right now,” he said, voice so gentle it made you squirm a little bit.

“You don’t count.” He raised an eyebrow at you and you shrugged. “I’ve always been comfortable with you.” You weren’t sure why that felt so much like a confession, but when you met his eyes and saw how serious they were, you knew he felt it too. You took a sip of your beer. “My turn.”

“Your turn?”

“Yeah,” you grinned, “it’s a game now.” He rolled his eyes, but smiled and gestured for you to go ahead. “Are you seeing anyone?” 

He shook his head. “I don’t date much.”

“Really?”

He shrugged. “I have other stuff going on right now. And my work hours can be kind of weird and unpredictable.” He must have seen the way your face started to fall, because he rolled his eyes goodnaturedly and said. “This isn’t your fault. I just have other priorities right now. I’m sure that if there was something I was looking for, I’d be able to find it.”

“Yeah, you definitely would,” you said with a laugh. He looked at you somewhat quizzically and it was your turn to roll your eyes at him. “Oh, come on! I know you know how hot you are.”

He cleared his throat and let out a small chuckle. “Uh,” he said, as he rubbed the back of his head and you noticed that his ears were turning red. He was uncomfortable. You had made your big, scary bodyguard bashful. It immediately filled you with so much glee. “That’s maybe been mentioned to me, once or twice,” he finally choked out. Just as you started cackling, he cut in, “Ok, me now. When was the last time you took a break?”

You looked around with a slightly furrowed brow. “You mean, like, other than right now?”

He shook his head. “No, I mean, I’ve been with you almost two years now and you’ve worked nonstop pretty much the entire time. When was the last time you took a real, sustained break?”

“Oh, um,” you had to stop and actually think about that. Everything had always been go go go, ever since you were a kid. And even once you were an adult, everytime you thought about slowing down, there was always something to capitalize on, an opportunity that shouldn’t be ignored. “Oh! The summer I was, I think, 12? Maybe 13? I didn’t book anything for hiatus and my parents were so mad. But I just got to hang out all summer. It was amazing. There was this girl my age who lived down the street. And we would just like, hang out in her backyard, or go to the pool, walk to get ice cream. Whatever we wanted to do. I was so excited to have a real friend. It was the best summer I ever had.”

“Did you keep in touch?” he asked softly, startling you when his fingers brushed against yours.

“No, the next season was when they started to really beef up my role, which meant I got paid more, so we moved. I never saw her again. Which was fine. It was really fun while it lasted.”

When you made eye contact with Curtis, there was a touch of sadness there that you couldn’t stand to look at, so you went back to your food. You were fine. Look at everything you had! You were good. You had no reason to be sad.

“You should think about taking a year off,” he said quietly.

You looked back up at him and scoffed, “A year?!”

“You just told me you haven’t had a real break in 13 years. I think a year is reasonable. I know you’re doing fine financially. You should think about it.”

“Maybe,” you said, but you were sure that no one involved in your career would let that happen. You couldn’t even imagine it. “Okay, my question. What do you do when you aren’t looking after me?”  

“Aside from sleep?” he asked, laughing at himself. You were instantly mesmerized by the sound. You didn’t think you’d ever heard it before. Dry chuckles, yes, but an actual laugh? You felt instantly addicted to it. “Uh, I go to the gym most days. I like to read, whenever I have the time. I’ve kind of been teaching myself how to cook, here and there. I don’t know, I’m not that interesting.”

You begged to differ, but saying that felt like too much. Like it would reveal more than you even realized. You were done eating now, so you put your plate on the coffee table and shifted to get more comfortable, bringing your legs up under the rest of you. As you did, your knees brushed against Curtis’s thighs. You stopped, surprised, and looked at where your bodies touched. Without realizing it, at some point during the conversation, you’d both eliminated the space between you. Wanting to see how far you could push it, while ignoring just how much you wanted the physical contact, you adjusted yourself again, so that now your thigh pushed against his. You watched for his reaction very carefully, while trying to look like that was the last thing you were doing. Something fluttered inside of you when he pressed imperceptibly closer. “It’s your turn,” you whispered. 

He turned so that he could look at you fully and just watched you for a moment. You could almost see him thinking, trying to find the perfect question. Finally, “What would you do if you weren’t acting?”

You felt your brain short out for a second. “Like, instead?” You asked dumbly. He nodded. “Um, I have no idea? This is all I’ve ever done. I don’t think I’m really good at anything else.”

“I highly doubt that,” he said and you were thrown off by how sure he sounded. You weren’t sure anyone had ever sounded so confident about you before, especially when it was so unfounded.  

“Well, it’s true,” you said and wincing internally at how harsh it sounded. “I don’t know. I don’t like that question.” Your skin was too tight again and you felt so, so small. He was seeing all of you now, how little there was, and had surely found you wanting. 

“Ok, that’s fine,” he said quietly, like he was talking to a spooked horse. Something about it made you want to flip over the coffee table. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to– I’m sorry.” You just nodded and folded in on yourself. “We can stop playing.”  

“No,” you said. “I still have one question left.” There was really only one you wanted an answer to. “Why did you stay tonight?” 

He didn’t stop to think before he answered. “Because you seemed like you needed me to.”

“That’s not part of your job,” you said, feeling defiant without really knowing why. 

“No, it’s not.”

You didn’t know what to do with him. This wasn’t how people treated you. You were either something to be vaunted or something they could use. Your parents, your friends, the people who worked for you, the people you dated. They all wanted to get something out of you. Curtis never seemed to want anything from you. But he didn’t put you on a pedestal either. He had always treated you like just a person. It was unnerving. What were you supposed to do with that?

You turned back to the TV, finally registering what was on. It was some reality show you’d never seen before. “I have no idea what this is,” you said.

“Me neither.”

Whatever comfortable calm that had existed between the two of you on this couch, it was gone now. You curled up, placing your chin on your knees. “I’m probably going to fall asleep.” You were exhausted, not just today, but in your bones.

“Do you want me to go?” he asked. 

All you could do was shake your head and let out a small, whispered, “No.” As all over the place as you felt, you knew you weren’t ready to be alone yet, weren’t ready for him to leave.

“Ok,” he said, softly, as you felt his arm moving behind you to rest on the back of the couch. “I’ll stay.”

Part Three

[age-of-greta]

The Lovers

The Lovers represent relationships and choices. Its appearance in a spread indicates some decision about an existing relationship, a temptation of the heart, or a choice of potential partners. Often an aspect of the querent's life will have to be sacrificed; a bachelor's lifestyle may be sacrificed and a relationship gaine, or one potential partner may be chosen while another is turned down. Whatever the choice, it should not be made lightly, as the ramifications will be lasting.

Author’s Note: hello again everyone! This story will contain two time jumps, then and today. This is my first fic and I have proofread, but typos happen!! I still plan on posting this weekly. enjoy!!

Pairings: Jake x reader & Sam x reader

Warnings: MINORS DNI! Explicit sexual content, fingering, unprotected sex, cursing, alcohol consumption

Word count: 3.2k

PART 2:

THEN

“Lana fuck him. It’s okay he’s such a loser anyway.” You say to your best friend while sipping from your mimosa glass. You were still reeling from the events of last night. You were hungover, but that’s why you were at brunch. You had so much fun last night, but were a little sour that you had to leave Sam without getting contact information. You two had just clicked and gotten along so well, which was rare for you.

“You’re right. You’re right. I’m done with it and I’m embarrassed. Let’s change the subject. Where is your top from?” Lana asks while sipping her coffee. You look down at your top. It’s a simple black tank top, you have it on with a neutral tartan skirt, black sheer tights, and black calf high boots.

“H&M. Same with these little gold necklaces, hoops, and my sunnies.” You say motioning to everything you’re wearing. It was warm out this morning which is why you insisted on sitting outside in the large circle booth. It was just you and Lana but the owner always made sure you were taken care of even if it was very crowded like it happened to be this Sunday.

“So cute. But seriously I feel bad dragging you away from those guys last night. You were having such a fun time and I ruined it.” Lana stated with a frown.

You waved your hand at her. “Eh nonsense. Everything happens for a reason.”

“No shit!” You hear a familiar voice call from a distance. You whip your head around and see Sam and the guys walking over to you from the outside of the restaurant.

“Sorority girl! What are the odds huh?” Sam says to you with a smile.

You take off your sunglasses and smile back. “Sam, are you following me or something?”

“Nothing like that, actually it’s just fate. But we were trying to eat here and the line is crazy.” Sam says pointing towards the front.

You motion towards the booth. “Go to the front and tell them you're with me and come join us. We have room.”

“Is this another president perk thing?” He laughs out as he starts walking towards the front with the rest following him.

You laugh and look at Lana who says, “Everything happens for a reason huh?”

**

They make it to your booth and Lana scoots closer to you with Danny beside her. Sam scoots in on the other side of you with Josh beside him, and Jake pulls up a chair sitting directly across from you. The server brings everyone out a fresh round of mimosas and you thank her.

“How are you drinking more after last night?” Sam says laughing.

“My philosophy is you can’t get a hangover if you continue to drink.” You say taking a sip out of your glass.

This garners a snicker from Jake. “I say the same thing.” He says looking at you.

“Well cheers to that.” You say reaching over and clinking glasses with Jake.

“So” Danny starts. “What do you both do?”

“I’m a receptionist at a dental office in Buckhead.” Lana replies smiling at Danny.

“Oh nice. I could totally see that you two are receptionists.” Sam says, taking a swig of his drink.

“No y/n isn’t a receptionist. She’s a lawyer.” Lana replies to Sam.

“Not yet. I’m a law student, and I work at my uncle’s firm in Midtown.” You say back.

“Smart girl.” Jake says nonchalantly from across the table.

“Receptionists are lovely too.” Josh adds smiling at Lana.

Lana giggles. “Thank you, but it’s not a forever job. I’m studying to be a hygienist. But it’s not as cool as when y/n graduates she will be taking over her uncle’s firm as he retires. She never brags about it, but I think that’s badass.”

“Okay enough about me and the benefits of nepotism.” You laugh. “What do you guys do?”

“Badass indeed.” Sam replies. “We are all in a band actually. That’s why we are in Atlanta right now. We are promoting the release of our EP.”

You smile at him. “That’s so cool. Congratulations guys. Who does what?”

“Sam plays the bass, Danny plays the drums, Jake plays guitar, and I play the vocals.” Josh says to you.

Sam rolls his eyes. “Vocals are not an instrument. But sorority girl you should come see us play. We have a small show tomorrow night at the Fox. We can leave you a VIP ticket at the box office. To repay you for getting me into the bar and well also brunch.”

“I guess I could swing by after work.” You say.

Sam swings his arm over your shoulder. “Now we’re talking. Prepare to have your mind blown.”

**

After everyone ordered their food, ate, and drank a few more mimosas it was about time to head out. The restaurant closed at 2 and things were starting to wind down.

“How do we get a check?” Danny asks you.

You smile at him. “No check. My uncle and I bailed the owner out of some major legal trouble. So he always takes care of us. I do tip though.” You say as you open your purse and pull out $50 in cash. You see Jake reach into his pocket and match your tip.

“Okay then. Shall we go?” Jake asks, looking around at the group. Everyone nods and starts to head out.

When you make it outside Lana quickly says her goodbyes and you see her ex pull up right down the road. God bless what are you going to do with her.

“Do you need an Uber or anything?” Sam asks, trying to figure out your next move.

“No, I'm walking back to my apartment. I live right around the corner. It’s only a 15 minute walk.” You say patting his shoulder.

“Well we will walk you there.” Josh states pulling a vape out of his pocket. “I’ve seen enough tv to know you don’t let a pretty girl walk alone.”

Danny nods at this.

You laugh at him. “I’m fine. I’ve lived here for years with no problem. Plus I have a taser in my purse.”

“No no no we are totally walking you. Also I want to see a sorority girl’s apartment. How someone lives says so much about them.” Sam says nudging your arm.

“Okay fine.” You agree. “But fair warning for the mess. I wasn’t expecting company.”

You knew your apartment wasn’t a mess. In fact you deep cleaned it yesterday before you went out and you were pretty sure you turned on your pumpkin vanilla bourbon wax melt before you left this morning. But it was always fun to pretend your place was messy when it really wasn’t. Sam stuck by you on the walk there. You two were leading the pack with Josh close on your heels, interjecting in your conversation sporadically about the best cocktails with breakfast. Jake and Danny were in the back talking over different chords for something new they were working on. When you finally made it to your building door you scanned your key to get in and headed straight for the elevator. Once off on your floor you all walked to your apartment which was the last on the left. You stepped inside and were greeted with the scent of your wax melt. Your apartment was very cozy and very you. You walked into your living room and placed your purse on the rack by the door. Your living room was a decent size. You had a beige sectional that was pretty big, adorned with colorful tufted pillows and throw blankets. There was a coffee table in the center under your colorful rug with two books on it. One being the entire discography of Creedence Clearwater Revival and the other a book full of pop art. There was a disco ball planter on top with a succulent inside. You loved the retro vibes of your apartment and figured the guys would as well.

“Wow this is really something sorority girl.” Sam says, starting to look around.

“It smells good as hell in here.” Josh states before sitting on your couch.

Danny joins him, but Jake heads straight for your record player to the right of your couch. You watch as he slides his finger over your rather large collection. Your mother was a collector of vintage vinyl and she gave you crates full. You had also secured some on your own and knew many places in Atlanta to find the rarest deals. You had a record already on your player, but couldn’t remember what you had chosen. It was something you put on last night drunkenly so you could take off your makeup and jam before passing out.

“Cream.” Jake said, holding up the vinyl sleeve. “They’re one of my favorites.” He said looking at you.

You smiled at him, it was very rare to find people in your generation who appreciated good music. “Mine too. Disraeli Gears is probably one of the best albums of all time.” You said motioning to the vinyl in his hand.

“No argument from me there. This is an impressive little set up you’ve got here. Great taste.” Jake said as he continued to poke around your vinyl.

Your heart smiled. That was one of the best compliments you could think of.

“These posters are pretty sick sorority girl. Who knew what was hiding in here? I thought we would walk into a basic apartment, but I stand corrected.” Sam said as he marveled at your gallery wall behind your couch.

You had various band posters framed as well as vintage and colorful posters you had thrifted. The rest of your apartment consisted of a kitchen with green cabinets and lots of plants. A small dining area which was essentially just a breakfast nook. A closet with your washer and dryer. Then two bedrooms. One was your master bedroom, which was just as colorful as your living room. It had a small on-suite. Then the guest bedroom which had a more boho style and your main bathroom that was next door. You wanted two bedrooms in case you had company stay over or family visit, which in the city was not cheap, but you deemed it worth the expense.

“Can I get you guys something to drink? I have water, tea, coffee, or juice? But I also have a whole bar cart, and I make a hell of a martini.” You say pointing at your bar cart.

“I think I speak for everyone when I say pour up the martinis!” Josh says excitedly. You shuffle to the kitchen to grab your martini glasses and hear Jake start playing Cream on your record player.

“Need any help?” Sam asks, walking up to you.

“Nope martinis are my specialty. Go sit.” You say as you shew him away.

Once you get out all of the ingredients you pop your head out of the kitchen and ask, “How dirty do we like our martinis?”

“Absolutely filthy.” Jake replies looking at you with a smirk.

**

After two rounds of martinis the boys decided they should head out. They had to be back at the label later in the afternoon to discuss the EP launch. For the past hour you had all sat on your couch and discussed music and pop culture. You found that you had so much in common with them, especially Jake who couldn’t stop smiling at you. He would flash his eyes between your lips and your eyes every time you spoke to him, which made you feel a little more heated than you cared to admit. Before they had left you swapped contact information with Sam so you could plan something tomorrow after the concert. They were leaving on Tuesday to head back to Michigan which made you sad, as you had truly started to bond with all of them. But you decided to push that in the back of your head and prepare for work and classes tomorrow. You only had one and a half semesters left of law school and you couldn’t lose that focus. You cleaned up the glasses and got out your books, but the only thing on your mind is what you were going to wear to their concert.

TODAY:

You had gotten back to Nashville pretty late. Jake carried your bags upstairs to his room while you got some water in the kitchen. Jake and Danny were upstairs, while Josh and Sam were downstairs. You loved their house, it was huge. The living room and kitchen were open concept, but there was another sitting room too. They also had their own studio, a fire pit outside, and a small pool.

“I’m still salty about our little competition.” Sam says huffing and standing next to you.

You laugh at him. “Oh no did I bruise Sammy’s ego a little bit.” You say in a baby voice.

He just looks at you and pouts out his bottom lip.

You pat his head. “There there poor baby Sammy, it will be alright.”

“You’ve got such a smart mouth on you.” Sam says, rolling his eyes.

“I am a lawyer Sam, it’s kind of my job. Plus you know you love my incredible wit.”

He sighs at that and looks at you. “Yeah I kinda do.”

“Hey. You ready for bed?” Jake says, snaking his arm around your waist. “I’ve got your bags semi-unpacked.”

“Yeah I’m pretty tired I should probably call it a night. Goodnight Samuel.” You say grabbing your water and waving him off. He soft smiles and waves back at you.

“I’ll be right there I’m going to run some notes into the studio to Josh and Danny.” Jake says as he sends you upstairs.

You get into Jake’s room and strip down. You need a shower after the warm day and tight clothing. After rinsing off you do some light skincare and brush your teeth. You wrap yourself in a towel and saunder back into the room. You see Jake in bed reading a book. He has stripped away his clothes from the day and is laying there in navy sweatpants. He looks up at you and smiles.

“Ready for bed lover?” He says smirking at you.

“Oh Jake.” You sigh. “We aren’t going to bed.” You say and drop your towel to the floor. Jake’s eyes rake over your body and he slowly sets his book down on his nightstand.

“Goddamn. Get over here.” Jake says patting the bed and sitting up. You walk over to him and crawl into bed, he already has his hands on your hips.

“You have no idea how much I’ve missed you. How much I’ve missed this.” He says looking you up and down.

“Oh yeah?” You reply innocently. “Well why don’t you show me just how much you missed me.” You say in a sultry voice.

Immediately Jake crashes his lips to yours. His hand finds your face and he rubs his thumb over your jaw. You put your hands around his neck and pull him a little closer. His other hand is rubbing all over your back and it feels euphoric to be touched like this by him again. You’re already so wet with just the thought of him touching you there, but you know Jake and he will want to take his time with you. But tonight you’re far too needy for any slow burn. You move your hand down to his sweatpants and start palming over him, already so hard for you. This elicits a small moan that Jake lets out in your mouth. That right there makes butterflies pound in your chest. Jake lays you back and moves his hand down to your lower half. He takes his calloused fingers and starts rubbing light circles on your clit. You inhale sharply at the pleasurable contact. Jake moves his mouth to your breasts, licking and kissing every inch of them. You moan out and whisper curse words. Jake takes and pushes a finger inside of you and it feels so fucking good.

“Damn baby you’re so wet already. You’re such a dirty girl.” Jake coos while fucking you with his fingers.

“Fuck.” you moan out “Jake I want you to fuck me right now please.” You plead out to him.

“Patience, babygirl. I want to make you feel good. I’m going to fuck you, but first you’re going to cum on my fingers.”

Jake adds in another finger and his thumb is swirling around on your clit. You screw your eyes shut and prepare for your impending orgasm.

“Come on baby, give it to me. You’re so pretty when you cum for me.” Jake praises, and that’s all it takes until you’re gripping the sheets and moaning his name. When you open your eyes and start breathing again Jake is smiling at you. He puts his fingers in his mouth and says, “Mhm. So sweet baby. Go ahead and turn over for me angel.”

You do as you’re told and prepare for Jake to fuck you like there’s no tomorrow. You feel him tease his head at your entrance and you let out a moan.

“This is the best view I have seen in a long time, baby you’re so perfect.” Jake says then he slowly pumps into you.

You inhale a moan and then scoot yourself back to push him deeper. He lets out a small gasp then starts to pump more frequently into you. His hand finds under your chin and he pulls you up so you’re flushed against his back. He lightly squeezes at your throat and you’re beginning to come unraveled all over again. Jake knows exactly how you like it and he’s giving it to you.

“You feel so good, you fuck me so good Jakey.” You praise him.

He moans out a little and then grits his teeth.

“If you keep talking to me like that angel I won’t be able to last much longer. Touch yourself.” He says back to you.

You do as he says and reach your fingers down and start swirling your clit. Jake picks up his pace and squeezes a little tighter on your throat. You start to grip around him more and he knows you’re close.

“Jake I’m going to cum-“ you moan out.

“I know baby cum for me again. I want to hear those pretty sounds and then I’m going to fill you up.”

“Fuck” is all you let out before you clench your eyes and start fluttering around him. You moan loud and Jake is now pounding you from behind chasing his high. He pulls your chin up higher and sloppily kisses your face. He whispers sweet praises into your ear and then you feel him release inside of you. When you both have come back down to Earth he pulls out of you and kisses your shoulder.

“Stay right there lover, I'll be right back.” He says as he shuffles to the bathroom to get a towel. Jake cleans you up and helps you to the bathroom. When you both get back in bed all you can do is smile at each other. He pulls you into his arms and kisses you sweetly on your forehead. Jake turns on Netflix and plays a show about pirates while you drift off asleep in his arms. This had been a perfect start to a long weekend.

• thanks for reading!!! the next chapter will be much longer :)

[annie-mit-ie]

Glimpses: Part 9 (Kathryn Hahn x Fem!Reader)

Part 1 // previous chapter <<< >>> next chapter 

Summary: Are you... finally having a date?

Word Count: 2.6k

A/N: Hey y’all! Again, I apologize for the delay but uni didn’t allow for me to have some free time to write. I’ll try to upload something earlier next week and hope you enjoy the new chapter until then! xxx

_____________________________________________________________________________

“Wish I could've seen your beautiful face on my screen tonight, sweetheart.“ You stare at your phone. Is she… flirting? By now it’s too late, so you can’t ask Alex for help since she is already sound asleep on her side of the world. You ruffle your hair and let your head fall to the back to look at the ceiling. Taking in a deep breath, you close your eyes and consider your options. Tonight, it’s only you, your phone and Kathryn. 

Unsure of what to do, you opt for the safer way and start a conversation rather than flirt with her right away, because honestly, you don’t even know what to do. “You know, we all actually hoped you guys would be able to see us, too.“

You are not sure if you blew it with that, but then again it’s not like you and Kathryn haven’t talked about things the fans think before, not that you are not one of them, but that’s a different story. She takes a while to respond and you throw your phone on the bed before lying down on your back.

Looking up at the stars on your ceiling, you reflect on what happened within the last week until your phone lights up again. You lie there for a short while waiting for Kathryn to respond and think about what plans you have for the rest of the week. You train of thought gets stopped when your phone lights up. You turn to your side to look at it and realize it lit up, yes, but this time there is no new message. Instead, additionally to lighting up, your phone starts to vibrate as hold it in your hand - a familiar face looking right at you. Yours. She is calling you. KATHRYN. On Facetime. 

Shocked as you are, you throw your phone across the room and as you try to catch it you hit it again, which only makes it fly further away. You immediately jump after it and fall from your bed in the process, taking a tumble before rolling off on the floor. Typical you and you would roll your eyes at yourself right now, if only you weren’t so busy reaching out for your phone.

For a moment, you think about how you could’ve hit your head pretty hard just a second ago, but somehow your body went into god mode and you managed to roll off pretty quickly. Phone in hand you are lying on the floor, all sprawled out as the time runs out to pick up the call. Gladly, you remember you should and take it as you still lie on the floor.

“Kathryn?“, you try to catch your breath. “Sweetheart, HEY!“, you catch a glimpse of her as you’re getting up to sit on your chair and hear her laugh. “What exactly are you doing, Y/N? You look… You are a mess, honey! WHAT HAPPENED?“

You immediately stop in your motion and look at her while running a hand through your hair trying to look more presentable. “I…“, you stutter. “I… I.. My phone… Floor. I had to… It’s…“

“Sweetheart you gotta take a breath for me now.“, she looks at you concerned.

“Yes, thank you Kathryn, yes. Hello there! I’m sorry. I might’ve hit my head actually. I’m not sure.“ She smiles once again while she is looking at you with her warm, blue eyes, as she gives you another minute to calm down after you ramble. “Well, I’m glad I get to see you now. I hate those one sided video things, especially since I’ve missed your face.“ She winks.

“You saw me like… 5 days ago. You’ll live.“ You can’t help but laugh at her antics once again and the both of you sit in comfortable silence for a moment until she breaks it. “Anyway, I am calling because I wanted to know if you will come and spend some time in my garden again this weekend.“ The words leave her mouth and you hear her but your brain seems unable to comprehend what is being said. How can this be your life right now?

While you are caught up in your thoughts Kathryn continues talking. “I promise this time we’ll stay at my place. No surprise gigs or anything to attend. Just the gals hanging out.“ You want to ask her if this is a date, you really do, but you can’t get yourself to be bold like that. Instead you just shoot her a wide smile as she waits for your answer and nod. “Yes! Absolutely! I mean… We never got to finish that bottle of wine we opened, so…“

Now it’s her turn to nod and you both fall silent again. Even though you are fully comfortable sitting in silence and just spending time with her in real life, it feels different on Facetime. Kathryn seems to notice rather quickly and breaks the silence again.

“Well, Sweetheart. I’ll let you go because I’m sure you’ve got other things to do. I will send you details for the weekend as soon as I know what my schedule looks like and then I’ll have Peter pick you up again?“

“That sounds amazing!…“ And you should've stopped there but at the same time you feel  a little adventurous, so you throw a common phrase in there that Alex uses any chance she gets. Realizing you could always say you don’t mean it that way makes it even easier - after all Kathryn doesn’t know you actually do. “It’s a date!“

Her smile turns into a wide grin. “It’s a date. I’ll see you on Saturday then.“

“Not if I see you first.“

—

You don’t see her first. Kathryn would never admit it, but she is in fact very nervous and paces up and down the house waiting for you. She fully cleaned all of it last night already, knowing that you would come over today. 

When she hears Peter and you arrive with the car, she walks up to the front door immediately and opens it right as you exit the car. You're wearing a flow-y summer dress again and your hair falls your shoulders in beautiful curls. A pair of sunglasses is propped up on top of your head and she can see you squinting your eyes against the sun.

Kathryn is leaning against the door frame as Peter sees you off and the two of you laugh about a dad joke he makes. She likes how you get along with everyone around her so well and her heart skips a beat as you turn around and your eyes meet. She is beautiful. A dark green pantsuit, that Kathryn combined with a white shirt (including the rolled up sleeves, of course), is hanging loosely off her shoulder. Her hair is in its usual curly mess and slowly moves in the wind as a fresh breeze hits her face.

Faster than anticipated you make your way up to her and wrap her up into a hug that, according to your consideration, is a little bit longer than a usual hug. She holds onto you just as tight and her hand wanders up to the back of your neck. When you finally let go of earth other you forget to put distance between your bodies again, so you find yourself just a couple inches away from her face once again.

“You look… stunning.“ She says as her hand softly pushes back a strand of hair behind your right ear.

“THANK YOU!“, you say in a high pitched voice as your eyes widen because of how embarrassing that voice raise was. “You look beautiful as always yourself, Kathryn.“

The smile on her face tells you that the compliment is sitting very well with her and you decide to keep a bit of the mystery, so you brush against her as you walk inside the house and make your way to the door thats leading to the garden.

Stunned, Kathryn stays in the doorframe for a moment before following you out onto the patio. She reaches you before you can reach the seating area because you purposefully strolled a little and appreciated the beauty of her backyard.

“I love your dress! That color and fit is just… you look beautiful, Y/N.“ You blush and it doesn’t go unnoticed by her as she has just caught up to you. The two of you have reached the couch and she offers you to sit first and makes sure you have a drink and everything you need before she makes herself comfortable. Just like last time, she sits down across from you first, keeping the mystery and all. 

The Kathryn you get to meet now is not that much different from the Kathryn you met within the last two weeks. She is funny and open and, if anything has changed, then it is the fact that she is much more relaxed without all the other people around.

As she tells you about her latest interview fails and gives you inside on her life, you can’t help but fall for her a little more, especially whenever she throws her head back as she laughs wholeheartedly. 

When it’s your turn to tell stories, you tell her about your childhood hobbies and how does might effect your future. She is very interested in arts and you immediately agree to meet up again to create something together. Talking about how you spend your free time, you finally mention Alex and talk about how fast she became your best friend. Just as always, she makes you feel like you are the most important person on the planet as you talk and somehow you feel like Alex becomes important to her as well, the moment you talk about how important she is to you.

With every glass she pours, Kathryn scooches a little closer to you until your knees nearly touch. Whenever you laugh about a joke, she reaches out to put her right hand on your leg and as you finish the first bottle of wine and she decides to order pizza as the sun starts to set, she plops down right next to you after getting the menu off the kitchen table.

Being fully comfortable with her now, you let yourself sink into her shoulder as the two of you browse the pizza names to see what you want to order. Luckily, you make a decision rather quickly while Kathryn needs some time, so you can enjoy the moment of closeness for a little while longer.

For the very first time, you realize how good her hair smells and how calming her aura is. You close your eyes to take it all in and smile to yourself about the sheer happiness that you are feeling in this very moment. 

Kathryn notices how calm you have gotten and leans back as her left arm sneakily finds its way across your shoulder to hold you close to her. Leaning back into the couch, she pulls you with her and the both of you sit in silence as you listen to her heartbeat. 

After a while, you hear a deep growl and Kathryn gets startled out of her meditational state. “Oh I’m sorry! I must be hungrier than I thought I am.“

She takes out her arm from behind you again and reaches for the menu and her phone to call the delivery service. When the pizza arrives and she comes back from the front door, she sits down on the other side of the couch once again and you immediately miss being by her side.

The pizza is nice, maybe even the best pizza you’ve had from any delivery service before, and by the time you finished eating, the sun has fully set. Not sure how she is going to react, you fiddle with your fingers for a moment before making a proposal.

“I.. actually arranged something. I looked up Peter’s agency and asked for his number and asked him if he could take us somewhere tonight. I mean.. If you’d wanna go?“

Once again speechless, Kathryn looks at you with wide eyes and raised eyebrows as her face is beaming from excitement. “Absolutely! Do we… need anything or are we good to go right away?“ It’s nice that she wants to help, but she doesn’t have to. Alex and you have planned for this very moment all week and talked it all through several times, so that Peter and you could arrange the surprise for Kathryn.

You help her up from the couch and lead her back into the house, where a filled basket, that has magically appeared, is waiting at the front door. Peter is already waiting in the car ready to take you to the stars.

It’s a rather short drive as he takes you to a little meadow on a hill where you can look over Los Angeles in between rocks and trees and actually see the stars as well. Naturally, he stays in the car and ready a book as the two of you walk up to the corner of the hill, where a small spot suggests that lots of couples have spent some time there. 

“This is perfect, Y/N. I….“ She looks at you before looking up at the night sky and stops talking as she feels your eyes on her. Your fingers on the blanket are close enough to hers that you can feel her warmth and you slowly move them closer. Neither of you breaks eye contact as your hands touch and a tingles move through all of your body.

You bite the inside of your lower lip in anticipation as you cup her hand with yours completely. Giving it one last squeeze, you let go and cup her face instead. Slowly, you move closer until you can feel her breath on your lips. Looking into her eyes for one last time, you overcome the remaining inches and capture her lips in a longing kiss as your hands find their way into her long hair.

Leaning into the kiss with a little too much force, combined with the fact that she is so focused on the way you make her feel, makes her lose balance and she falls backwards onto the blanket. Before you can do anything about it, you find yourself on top of Kathryn who is grinning and goes in for yet another kiss. Now she is the one who is holding onto you and her hands glide all over your body as she takes no measures to get you off of her.

You make out with her in that position for a short moment, before she stops in her tracks. “We can’t. Not like that. Not out here. I’m sorry, Sweetheart.“

“Oh no, don’t be sorry. You are absolutely right.“ You smile and kiss her shortly for one last time before getting off of her. “Let’s go back home? It’s getting rather cold anyway.“

“Home? Are you… Staying over tonight?“ She looks at you, unsure of what to expect.

For a moment you consider if you should play it save, but thinking about everything that happened tonight, you decide to go into full offense and shoot your shot while you wink at her. “Well, Ms. Hahn. Seems like you are asking me to stay, so I might as well.“

She looks at you and you can tell she is biting her lip before she looks back at the lights in front of her as she grabs your hand. “Please stay, Y/N. I would love that.“

[fakeloveaskblog]

(I just finished a design for snaily and now I want to give myself a lil party top hat-and OOOO angst >:) )

Ofc rowan, I'll get you connected if you would like :) I love new friends

Now Janus,your turn I believe! You look very pretty today, I may add.

Have you ever...felt jealous of something? Or perhaps, someone? Or not quite jealousy, perhaps a longing? Or both?

🐌🕸

(oooh snaily design :0)

"Darling you were already my friend!" Rowan exclaimed. She moved to pet you on your shell but hesitated when she remembered you're quite gooey "BUuuuuut if you got me those contacts you would be even dearer and nearer to my heart!!"

Your big black eyes turned to Janus. Remy had laid their head in his lap and he was idly playing with the longer strips of hair near their ears.

He cocked his eyebrow when you complimented him "Well thanks deary but if you're complimenting me right before asking me something I suspect you're simply buttering me up"

Remus let out a supportive "oooooH Snaily playing dirty buttering tricks"

Logan crossed arms and nodded while murmuring "Ah yes. Classic Have you ever tactic" As if he was an expert in this game.

You asked your question. In response Janus looked at you in silence for a few seconds, their eyes looking up to the ceiling, before they shrugged and lifted the half filled glass of red wine.

They held it up as if to say cheers before downing it and leaning back against the couch. The rest of the group waited in anticipation for them to actually say something.

"What?" Janus let out "The rules of the game is to take a shot if it's true, not to share a bunch of details about it"

"That just makes it sound like you're hiding something!" Rowan said.

"Yeah now it sounds like you have like 4 dead bodies in your freezer" Her brother agreed.

Janus held up their hands and pouted "Sooorryy. Just following the rules"

"I think that categorizes you as a coward" Logan said stone cold.

They gasped "Logie!? Not you too!? Everyone here is against me!"

"Sorry honey but Patty has this specific magnetic effect that makes it so all of her partners need to be gossipy bitches"

Logan and Rowan high fived each other.

Janus rolled their eyes "I didn't kiss anyone until I was 22! Obviously I have been jealous of many a people. I've been jealous of ads in malls because the ladies in them got to wear pretty skirts. I've been jealous of people who can go to a normal clothes store and find pants who fit them properly. I've known longing like no one else every time in the changing room after gym class when I hid in the toilet out of sheer embarrassement"

Remy poked their finger into his cheek "You wouldn't try to avoid the question if it was that simple"

He looked down at them. Their sunglasses reflected his face back, there was a lazy smile on their lips, their hair was sprawled out over his thigh.

He leant his chin on his hand to try and hide his slightly flustered look from them as he mumbled out the quietest possible "I might have been a bit jealous of....ⱽᶦʳᵍᶦˡ"

Rowan immediately sent an 'oh shit' type of look to her girlfriend while leaning forward to take chips from a bowl on the coffee table.

Everyone was in different stages of silence as well until Remy let up into a loud snort followed by slurred giggling.

"Aww Jannie did you wanna bash my head in as well?"

They moved their hand to trail their finger along his jaw. He glanced away.

"That's why I didn't want to say it. It sounds very wrong, I'm aware. It was more the part where that bastard got to live a...a quite ideal..uhm...life...and he wasted that wonderful chance...Even though I feel jealousy that he got chance I feel a lot more animosity and resentment towards him"

He could have gone more into detail. How jealous he was that Virgil had gotten to wake up next to Remy. That Virgil had gotten to know them for many many more years than he had. That Virgil had gotten to share countless dinners and late nights and calm mornings with them.

But he choose not to say that.

"OHOHO!" Remy let out a laugh and pointed up at Janus. Their movements were so hasty they nearly poked their nail into his eye "You're jealous 'cause like Vivzie got to take me as a fair virgin maiden!"

"You're past the point of tipsy and I will gracefully ignore the buffoonery you just said"

Remy kept poking their finger all over his face "He got to like choke me and hold me down as well which must have been like tooots hot to the person Not being HUrt. Sounds prettty lovey dovey of you Janny. A bit buttery. A bit smooth. Some roses and candles type of shit. Right ladies?"

They looked over to Rowan and Patty who was sharing a bowl of popcorn at this point. They glanced at each other before nodding.

"Right in front of like Logie too! Bad Jannnny" How much fucking wine had Remy managed to drink. The ketamine probably wasn't helping.

"We're in an open relationship. I could not muster up any negative feeling about this if I tried" Logan added.

Janus took Remy's poking hand in his and went back to stroking their hair. They had a bit of a zoned out look in their eyes but the smile on their lips stayed.

"I do feel similar bouts of jealousy about....other people...I long quite often after things I know it wouldn't be a good time for"

For a moment Janus glanced over to Remus. He noticed and both quickly looked away from each other. His cheeks went just a bit red as he thought about what Jan could have meant.

Patty threw a piece of popcorn and Logan caught it perfectly in his mouth "Alright! Next question! This is fun!" She exclaimed.

[sansmania]

Why is thia going past 2 parts its gonna be 3 oh NO

Title: Your Man

Ship: Boss [ @bonelyheartsclub ]/ GN reader

Descrip: i got disctracted by the cAR DRIVE????? also cowboys apparently arent real

You were quick to get dressed in something decent- not wanting to push the tall skeleton's patience, but also knowing there was a standard he held when it came to appearances in public. By no means would he allow you to spend time in town with him wearing something lazy and frumpy- he wasn't like Sans or Stretch.

After a once over, you were pleased with your choice. Making sure the combat boots you picked out were tied right and scuff free, you hopped down the stairs and grabbed your go bag.

Boss had busied himself by fingering through your unused bookshelf and books, having picked some hardback out, eyelights skimming over the words in silence. He startled only slightly when your keys rattled, closing the book and placing it back where he'd taken it from with a click of his jaw.

"Hey, you're fine- didn't mean to spook you." You laughed as he made a sarcastic sound at the back of his throat.

"I am aware how ‘fine’ I am, but you did not 'spook' me." Your shit eating smile didn't go away at his retort, though the first bit caught you off guard. Boss was such a haughty bastard sometimes and it really got under your skin. You wondered if he was aware of that.

But, before you could think any harder, the skeleton headed towards your beat up front door.

"Now, are you ready to go? These sneakers are not comfortable. I am hoping this store you have found has others for me to choose from so I can throw these out."

"Come on, maybe if you'd coordinate with them, you could pull off neon orange Converse, Boss." He made a short gagging sound as you laughed, locking the door behind you. "Ah, well, I can dream, can't I?"

"Keep the dream to yourself then, human. Because you will never see me in detestable clothing like this ever again." Though, Boss didn't seem as unamused as you figured he would be at the suggestion, a slight curl to his mouth.

Out of sheer habit, you headed towards your car before Boss caught the collar of your shirt, pulling you away from it and across the street towards his own deep red convertible.

"Absolutely not. Put the location in the GPS. I am driving." There was no fight put up, to his demand. Boss's car was insanely nice- when you first saw it, you almost didn't want to touch it, let alone ride in it. But, it was his casual vehicle. He drove the damn thing everywhere and you were not going to complain about it today.

You both settled in and were off on your repairing adventure.

The top was cranked down, your hair whipping in the brisk wind, Boss had perched a pair of dark shades on his nasal ridge- probably held on by magic, you stopped asking to be honest- and had an arm perched on the door as he focused on the road and GPS feeding directions through the radio.

He wasn't one for music, loudly proclaiming his distaste of your taste in music after blaring "Two Trucks" as you were trapped in traffic one day. The look on his face was worth a lifetime ban of tunes on your drives, but you didn't mind the silence or small conversations you shared.

Yeah, Boss could be blunt and downright rude at times, but you found it added to his charm. You could always expect honesty to come from him no matter what you both talked about. He couldn't lie to save his life, anyway, and it was a feature of his that you appreciated dearly.

"Human, I am aware that it is very easy to get struck by my visage," Boss smirked folding up the sunglasses and placing them in the collar of his shirt, causing you to blink and blood rise to your face instantly. "But, I do believe we have made it to our destination."

How had the ride gone by so fast? Had Boss been speeding? Were you so lost in your enamored thoughts you had no sense of time? 

Both?

"Right." You cleared your throat with an awkward laugh, climbing out of the car alongside the tall skeleton. He seemed to be greatly amused at your embarrassment as the pair of you headed into the southern couture themed shop. 

The first thing that hit you about the place was the smell of leather and hardwood. The second thing was the twang of county music playing over the speakers.

"Heh, they really stick to the theme, huh?" You couldn't help the eye roll, but Boss said nothing. Oh, right. The skeletons hadn't been on the surface for long, so this may be a little much. 

"Bit of a culture shock, Bossman?"

"Hm?" He broke out of whatever train of thought had taken over, shaking his head when you'd elbowed his hip. "Oh, no. Though I am impressed by their dedication to the concept."

"Pft, concept? Boss, cowboys and the mid-west are real." Now that made him snort.

"Do not play coy with me, human. I believed Undyne once that anime was real, and I am a wiser skeleton today by not believing everything on television. Now, where do we drop these off?" He had managed to cut off any argument you had prepared with his question.

You wouldn't let it go, but made a noise and looked around, spotting a sign on the ceiling that directed them to "Ye ol' boot fixin'" desk in the back.

Before you had a chance to say anything, Boss followed the directions on the desk. 'Ring the dinner bell for assistance', tapping the loud triangle several times as a voice in the back called out.

"Hold your horses!"

"Technically I could hold a horse, but I would much rather get my boots repaired." Boss said dryly as the cobbler walked out of the back. He only reeled slightly at the sight of a seven foot tall skeleton at his desk, wiping his worn hands on the old apron tied to his waist.

"Well, I'll be. Ain't had any of your kind come by before. So, ya'll said boot repair? Came to the right place then; names Willie." He held his hand out with a wide smile, Boss was only slightly taken aback by the gesture, meeting in the middle with a firm handshake.

"You may call me Boss. Apologies if my appearance is in any way menacing, as I cannot change that." Willie just chuckled, stopping you from interrupting any spiel your neighbor was about to go into.

"No need to apologize. Now, where's these shoes that need repairin'?"

[moonlightwinterdxxix]

MOONLIGHTWINTERDXXIX! Ready for another request attack!? 🤣 I'm here for Sutabaa Zaimoku identity shenanigans the SEQUEL! 😎✨ Somehow Kara's weird nice guy habits had actually worked?! He got on the good side of a visiting Sutabaa's overseas higher up by sheer luck and when they arrive to Sutabaa for whataver they mistaken Totty as Kara. Will Totty abuse this chance for nepotism to rise from his janitor position? Or will customer Kara unexpectedly arrive in all his glory and threaten this ruse?!

@yisongye For #make Karamatsu smile—the Bullied boys now have time to shine outside TVV xD

For those who are new, this is the continuation of this fic here.

~~~

Leaving its slanted position from the angle it was creating from the floor, Todomatsu raised the mop vertically and glared. “Stop laughing.”

“Pfft...! Okay, first you told me to stop talking,” Atsushi confirmed through snorts, shoulders rocking, “now you want me to stop laughing. What do you want me to actually do, Todomatsu? Make up your mind.”

“Leave. Go home. I don’t want you in here anymore. You’re making it a billion times worse.”

“Alright, come on. This is the thing, Todomatsu,” Atsushi said, resting his elbows on the table and raising a smug eyebrow that made Todomatsu want to punch his face so badly. “It wouldn’t have been so bad if you were being casual. Just a casual joe that’s cleaning tables, mopping the floors, doing his job, basically. But wearing your brother’s tacky sunglasses while working is what made you a sight more painful than him himself.”

“It’s his fault this all happened!” Todomatsu exclaimed, spreading a hand. “You have absolutely no idea what he said to the manager, and if you did...! If you were in my shoes, you’ll live with embarrassment for the rest of your life! He told me everything! I didn’t even want to wake up the next day after what he told me!”

“You’re overreacting,” Atsushi said, taking a sip from his latte. “I’m sure it wasn’t so bad. If he was pretending to be you, he couldn’t have possibly broken character enough that he’d make you look like a painful—”

“Then the sun, that glorious sun! Oh, it was the rose’s guardian angel, sending it a spirit for life and the will to fight forward! Oh, and it would now attract all the butterflies that followed a path so similar to it’s!” Todomatsu mimicked, posing with Karamatsu’s flair and voicing the lines with the lowest his voice can drop. Dramatically.

Atsushi burst out laughing.

“H-Hey! Shut up!”

“You’re right! It’s embarrassing!” Atsushi guffawed.

“Oh, wait until then!” Todomatsu snapped, resuming his work as he cleanly ridded the spot where a baby had spilt its mother’s drink. “The time will come when the same humiliation will happen to you. Don’t think that just because you have money and riches your life will be all fine and dandy. I promise that you will find failure soon. Just you wait.”

“Ooh, scary,” Atsushi drawled. “Doesn’t help that you’re wearing his glasses though. Why are you even doing that? To hide your identity? Everyone in the Ward knows of that face belonging to a sextuplet NEET, Todomatsu. That does nothing to your case.”

“Better safe than sorry. It’s better than having my own identity out in the world. Have Karamatsu instead—he’s the one most associated with failure.” He blew a raspberry, rolling his eyes. “You’ll eat your words soon, dumbbell,” Todomatsu vowed, grabbing a water bottle from his belt and spraying the floor. “I swear to Cod, you’ll eat your words and—”

“Todomatsu Matsuno?”

Someone suddenly was in front of the employees’ door of the establishment against the wall, and both Todomatsu and Atsushi were stunned to find a beautiful girl standing there, her eyes shining like those of the universe, all planets aligned and the sun at its brightest.

She had long, wavy brown hair that touched all the way to her waist, a bangs that brushed her eyebrows before parting at the sides, overlapping her ears. She had a large bust, which grabbed their eyes, but she also had long legs that they could see through her khaki pants. A notepad peeped out of the apron of her Sutabaa work uniform.

“Todomatsu Matsuno?” the girl echoed, smiling faintly, almost relieved. “Was that you? Oh, I never thought I’d actually see you! I heard snippets of your interview the other day, and I didn’t think I would be able to see you again. Anyway, I think I need to introduce myself formally to you. My name’s Sen. And I’m gonna be a co-worker of yours for the entire month.”

Todomatsu did nothing else but look at her, cheeks reddening as the sunglasses went askew on his nose.

“I’m the Sutabaa manager from Paris, see? But still a Japanese native,” the girl—Sen, went on. “I recently decided to take a trip back to Japan so I can see how the employees do their tasks here. And I was just in time too. A made a recent notice of the lack of appeal in customer service and entertainment, but I can associate the opposite of that with the fanfaronade you put on. At least, what I just heard right now and the other day. I assume that really was your interview, wasn’t it?”

“Y...Yeah,” Todomatsu breathed.

“Great! Because I think I might be considering lifting your position off being a janitor if that was the case,” Sen told them, taking out her notepad and pen. Her fingernails were decorated with fancied stickers of the Eiffel Tower. “With your flow of words, we might be able to attract more customers to the establishment. Imagine being talked about as that cashier man with a Shakespearean dictionary in his vocabulary. Wouldn’t that spark interest?”

No. Yes? Perhaps? Todomatsu didn’t think a Karamatsu persona would’ve sparked any interest from anyone or anything? Not even an ant’s or a cockroach’s.

And yet...If this meant not being a janitor anymore...

“Of course, only if you don’t mind,” Sen said, jutting down on her notebook. “If you aren’t willing to act so in front of customers, we won’t force you too. But your gentlemanly manner when you speak might make some progress in this building when it comes to getting people to come. It’s a suggestion I’ve already spoken to your main manager about. Now I want to ask you! Are you willing to do it, Todomatsu-san?”

“E-Eh?!” Atsushi squeaked, and Todomatsu continued to stare at her.

Then he blinked beneath the sunglasses. Then his lungs refilled with air, and his imagination lit up with his proud-to-behold Todomatsu Matsuno wisdom. He smirked, transferred the mop to his other hand, using his free one to touch his hairline with two fingers. “Of course, my dear! And I’d be happy to perform more Shakespearean might you give me the opportunity to! After all, I am Todomatsu Matsuno, master of the fine art, a man of theatre through-and-through!”

“Oh!” Sen expressed (cutely to the mens’ eyes), eyebrows rising.

“EEEHHH?!! O-Oi! Todomatsu! What the hell are you doing?!” Atsushi demanded, rising slightly from his chair.

Dropping the mop, Todomatsu slid over to Sen, a finger-gun following the shape of his jaw as he grinned narcissistically. “My, what ever is the problem, Atsushi? Can you not see that I’m being as normal as I can be? I am flattered by this woman’s suggestion, and all I want is to make her feel welcome in these crowded, sorrowful Tokyo streets. You are quite a foreigner yourself, in a way, are you not, sweetheart?” He knelt down, grabbed her hand. “I apologize for the inconvenience, dear. You make my heart melt.” He kissed her hand—it was so soft. Like, so, so soft that it was impossible for something to be that soft.

She chuckled.

Atsushi sputtered.

And Todomatsu wanted to as well. Because he wanted to scream so badly and yank his soul out of his body for the stupid idea he had concocted. Because...Because...BECAUSE LOOK AT THIS! He was posing with that stupid grin of his stupid brother while wearing those stupid glasses and was talking in that stupid accent all because Karamatsu had ruined Todomatsu’s chances for work with a stupid mistake because of his stupid brain and—!

Okay, keep it together, Todomatsu. Look on the bright side. He was a janitor, he was cursed with this hex of Satan since the day Karamatsu left the womb. And this was unacceptable, more than being a baby brother that everyone looked down on! This woman...She could change that. Hell, she could turn him from a lowlife into the manager himself! If Todomatsu followed her guidelines, matched her standards, made himself the appealing man she wanted to view...Yes, this was going to be his debut as the boss of his own life!

And so what if Karamatsu was the key to that?! Karamatsu was the key to success, and no one cared for Karamatsu’s own failure! These NEETs were selfish bastards after all!

Heck, Todomatsu was that desperate! Yes! Yes! But he didn’t care, for everyday he was already dying with the thirst for change! Change in his life, change in his pathetic, why-am-I-alive existence! He had no friends—only acquaintances who would never stay longer than twenty minutes! His life was littered with five matching levels of garbage, sharing his bed and face that made him look as terrible as them! But he wasn’t! And he wasn’t going to be defined like that any freaking more!

Yes! Hell yes! This was the true form of this Todomatsu-sama, the one who will be the first of his NEETy brothers to find love alongside work! So what if he was a cursed janitor?! He was an official graduate from the status that had once colored him at the bottom of the caste system, and this woman was going to be his diploma! Hell yes, he won!

And there was even a plus. This girl was into this, and if he continued this painful persona he might have a chance to actually keep her. No more virginity for this youngest dirty monster, because he was going to be able to smash her and make her his by acting his part as the best boyfriend she could ask for! So what if she was a princess?! A lady of romance and theatrics and the arts?! She was still an unattainable woman who any of these stupid NEETs would pine for for ages! Lifetimes! A keeper to the max despite maybe bad taste in vocabulary, but that was besides the point!

Todomatsu could keep her. Hell, he can keep her. If he was this perfect cashier, he can keep her. Beat the hell out of his brothers, and become the true role model that Choromatsu and Osomatsu were far from being! All because he was a loser, therefore there was no one else he could grab! Because Iyayo and Chibimi were plastic dolls and Kinko was a woman of true culture...Because Totoko hated them like scum and Homura was in love with someone else...!

Hell yeah, there was so much he could gain, this baby demon of the Matsuno hellhole...All he needed to do now was act the part. Act the part.

What would Karamatsu say, and how can it be said for this woman’s attraction? Hm, he needed to summon his inner Karamatsu, if there even was one. Because just like the rest of his brothers, having an inner Karamatsu was like saying that they had a tree growing over their heads. It was impossible. Because having an inner Karamatsu was one of the things they as NEETs did not want to have.

But this woman. She wanted a Karamatsu.

Todomatsu smirked. Fine. For her, he’ll play the part.

“Have you always been a theatrical one, Todomatsu-san?” Sen asked, tucking a few collective strands of hair behind her ear after hiding her notebook and pen again. “Or is this a new thing after graduating?”

Hmm, how was he going to answer this? Should he be honest and tell her that the only thing he’s ever done involving theatre was dunk bird turd on someone’s script, or should he go with the Karamatsu flow and tell her that acting has always been a hobby since the day he could walk? What would this woman want to hear? Todomatsu pondered, forced his brain cells to click and tick and turn their gears...Hmm...

Then—

Todomatsu posed, raising an arm and bending another. “I had no plan!” he announced.

Sen’s mouth formed a tiny circle. Atsushi face-palmed.

“Heh, I’ve always went with the flow of my own wind, dear beautiful Sen,” Todomatsu enumerated smoothly, dropping the octaves of his voice, which wasn’t so hard. He was already gifted to have a deep voice whenever he yelled (something Choromatsu once mentioned to him, that rising, fapping loser), and so mimicking Karamatsu’s original tone wasn’t that difficult as an activity. That, and this woman had never met Karamatsu in person, so he had the safety of a thousand nets and trampolines to catch his sky-high fall.

“Theatrical arts, drama, cherry blossoms in the wind, a heart of blue.” Oh god, Todomatsu wanted to slap himself so hard, wanted to slice his tongue with a cleaver and haul it into the mouth of hell. Speaking Karamatsu was speaking the language of agony. If this was what being the childhood best friend of Karamatsu resulted in, then maybe it was better if none of that ever happened at all. “It was my mind, cured with the peacefulness of my being, that opened my existence in a fantasy worth exploring. The unknown. Skies and trees that breathe the air of purity that is being wiped from this earth. It tears my soul and rips my being into shreds.”

Atsushi snorted, turning away. That goon, Todomatsu was gonna deal with him later.

“Ooh, how poetic,” Sen commented, her hair bouncing as she tilted her head. “How did you gather your vocabulary?”

How did Karamatsu gather his vocabulary? How did Karamatsu gather his vocabulary? HOW DID KARAMATSU GATHER HIS VOCABULARY? When they were freaking kids, Karamatsu wasn’t even able to determine the differences between ‘limbs’ and ‘limbo’! How the hell did he come from that turd of an idiot into a man with a dictionary built into his throat?!

“Heh, by being myself,” Todomatsu answered painfully, trying not to reach over to wipe the sweat pooling behind his ears and running down his nape. “I’m a natural at my strengths, the best of my kind. Because I’m a loner, but at the same time I have my own hands to support me might I fall. Heh, I’m a tower of storms.”

“You definitely are. Very destructive too,” Atsushi chortled, eyes directed elsewhere but the killer’s promise of a glare on Todomatsu’s face.

“Wait a minute,” Sen said, a finger touching those beautiful lips of hers. “Todomatsu-san, have I seen you before? I thought you looked familiar and remembered that I saw someone looking like you yesterday. Were you at the park yesterday taking a swim in the river dressed in a yellow baseball uniform?”

Todomatsu flinched so hard that his soul felt like it had just poked the waves of an ocean made of lava. “No, that wasn’t me! It was a stranger, surely! I hate baseball, always have!”

“Only since today,” Atsushi muttered. Todomatsu was internally sending him two of his middle fingers which tips had holes for bullets.

“But the other day, I thought I saw you too?” Sen asked. “Wearing red this time. Playing at Pachinko? And you had a very large bruise on your face while you left the parlor crying. I assume you lost the gamble after getting into a fight?”

Shit! Damn you, Osomatsu! “Nope! Pachinko is not my turf in the slightest!” Todomatsu lied, puffing out his chest because he felt like deflating into an airless blob of rubber.

“Yet you won yesterday,” Atsushi stated quietly behind his hand.

“And also, in the mixer? I saw someone in pink looking like you leave it recently,” Sen followed up, crossing her arms. “Well, not to defy you or anything, but are you the mixer type really, Todomatsu-san? With your flair and all, your humble personality, I don’t think you need a mixer to determine your acquaintances and your friends.”

“Heh, fret not, my queen,” Todomatsu schmoozed, wanting to stab himself for each ‘heh’ he had to gag out. “This man here is still as packed with friends as a man can be.” Which was half true and half lie. Todomatsu was one with peers, but Karamatsu was a member of the trash gang. Meaning, friends were flies, and peers were the dirty streets that only cats were willing to walk because they too were stupid enough not to understand anything in life.

Sorry not sorry, Ichimatsu.

“Oh, alright then,” Sen said, then bowed. “I guess I was just thinking about your successful interview too much then.”

“Oh, it is quite fine,” Todomatsu fibbed, planting very sweaty hands against his hips. “I am alone in my features—there’s no one else like me at all. If there was, it’s probably a doppelgänger signaling death that looms over me. Therefore I am the one and only, Sen-chan. Todomatsu Matsuno.”

Atsushi turned away, shoulders shaking.

Sen chuckled. “If you say so, mister Matsuno. So, are you up for it, Todomatsu-san? Would you accept my invitation to be a cashier instead of a janitor?”

“Yes, my sweet! I am glad to oblige!” Todomatsu hollered, spreading out his arms. “I shall prepare myself for all the hi’s and hello’s I can offer to any passersby for this fine establishment! Give the word and I shall motion with the swift energy of lightning!” Smirking painfully, he posed, spreading his legs out, resting one of his elbows over his other hand, and he flicked his bangs before sending Sen a finger gun. “Like lightning. Bang.” He inched his fingertip.

Atsushi exploded into full-on laughter.

“Alright then,” Sen said, nervously cutting Atsushi a look as she slowly retreated into the staff room. “I’ll let them know, so wait here. Let me make the arrangements for you, alright?”

“Heh. You are the true Samaritan, dearest Sen,” Todomatsu gritted out with the flawless character of his brother.

Then waving, Sen closed the door behind her.

Todomatsu snapped.

“What the hell is wrong with you, you turd-hole?!” he yelled, gripping Atsushi’s dark collar and shaking him with the mercy of a madman. “Stop making me look as transparent as I already am! It’s bad enough that I need to be that stupid-as-hell brother in order to win back my pride, moron! And don’t question how I can impersonate the goon, and I too want to straight-up murder my past self for ever thinking that being friends with that painful Shittymatsu was a good idea! So shut the hell up!”

“Yo, Totty!” Atsushi called out, still smiling through the force shoving him back and forth. “Why didn’t you just tell her no? You don’t have to put up a Karamatsu everyday if you don’t want to! Be a janitor in freedom! It’s still worth it!”

“And let myself still look like an effing NEET in the process?! Not a chance!” Todomatsu fumed, releasing Atsushi and pouting, folding his arms. “You won’t understand. You have everything already. Why not just be a comrade and let me have this? I know it sucks and it hurts and it’s painful as fu—!” Pausing, he doubled over, and he vomited a waterfall of glitters onto the floor. The Karamatsu was really getting into him.

“I’m not telling you anything,” Atsushi said, shrugging casually as Todomatsu straightened up again, wiping his lips. “If you want to or not, it’s your choice. You’re the only one balancing on your own lifeline. Each choice you make affects you, and there’s no one else that can do anything about it.”

“Meh, I guess that’s true.” Finally, Todomatsu had the urge to pull Karamatsu’s sunglasses off his face to look at. Just the blue of them reflecting the light from the restaurant made him want to snap them and toss them out into the Bermuda Triangle. “Still though. If it makes me get more than what I already have, Imma be up for the challenge. Time to be Karamatsu-niisan.” He returned the shades. “I dunno how long I can pull this off—if I do at all.”

Atsushi snorted. “Wish you luck. How long you can keep this up will color me curious as well.”

~~~

One week. It was one entire week of painful dialogue and flamboyant posing. It was one week with Todomatsu being responsible for those awful sunglasses that Karamatsu had been looking for whenever they came back home after days under Akatsuka Ward’s sun. It was one week of heh’s and hm’s, and each time Todomatsu wanted to throw a fit and dump on a table the same way Ichimatsu would. He was angry, he was embarrassed, he just wanted to end his suffering with a knife to the chest or whatever lame shtick.

“You’re doing great, Todomatsu-san,” Sen would tell him, and it was kind of true. Customers did seem very satisfied with Karamatsu’s dialogue floating to their ears, and it made Todomatsu question humanity in its intelligence. It was either he was dumb or the world was dumb, and he voted for the latter due to his excessive pride. That, and he needed reassurance of something, because working as a cashier mimicking his older brother didn’t deduce the NEETiness he felt like was still sewn into his system.

He didn’t answer any questions from anyone else though. If it were Aida and Sachiko that were close by in their shifts, Todomatsu would be able to cut away the sheets of Karamatsu’s ghost long enough for him to be normal, the same Todomatsu ‘Totty’ Matsuno that the two baristas knew. As for his brothers, he was always mopey when taking orders from them if they ever came, and they always left Sutabaa with knowledge only on the purchased drink rather than the persona that broke loose with other customers. Todomatsu was glad of the stupidity of Jyushimatsu and the lack of comment from Ichimatsu.

And then...The day came.

“One strawberry latte for Nishimiya,” Sen announced, scribbling the name on a large cup with a black marker.

“Heh. Blueberry cheesecake for Shimizu,” Todomatsu added, wanting to let a large portion of glittery vomit escape his throat again. “Kindly help yourselves to table four, my dear. You wait there for the meantime—your hunger will be satisfied momentarily.” He lowered his sunglasses, winking. And when the customer smiled at him in appreciation, it was obvious she didn’t notice how much pressure Todomatsu had to put into his muscles just to make himself appear his way.

“Right, Totty, right?” Sen left the table, handing the cup to him. “I’ll be on my break now. Can I leave it to you?”

“Heh. If that may assist thy fatigue, I’d be willing to move mountains for you.” Shoot, shoot, SHOOT! Just kill him already, Akatsuka-sensei so he didn’t have to do this bullhooey anymore! But this ‘bullhooey’ seemed to deem him fine for now as Sen bobbed her head, entering himself into the opposite room as she closed her door.

The bell above the Sutabaa entrance chimed.

A sigh.

Time stopped for Todomatsu, and for a moment there was nothing he could do but transform into a frozen block of ice. But his recovery was swift, and before notice Todomatsu took off his sunglasses as a pair of leather-sleeved elbows propped themselves on the counter.

“Good morning, Todomatsu,” Karamatsu said, smiling sadly at his brother. Sadly? Why sadly? Shoot, that meant he was going to blow up into painful monologuing territory that will be sure to either end his life, or Todomatsu’s. Bullsh—“I’d just want a coffee, please. Extra sugar, maybe?” Karamatsu went on, devoid of joy.

Todomatsu gulped. “Ah, right. Wh...Why are you here, Karamatsu-niisan?” His gaze darted through the area, hoping for no familiar faces to question him and his conversation with his lookalike brother. Thank goodness the timing had Sen leaving for a while before anything else bad could happen, because Todomatsu swore to Cod, bad stuff was indeed going to happen.

“Need a little time to think, perhaps?” Karamatsu said, lowering his own blue sunglasses. It was a fun thought, Todomatsu imagined, to continuously rid Karamatsu of any of his glasses by breaking them in half or tossing them into a gorge, but a spare would always find themselves on his face the following day. Wonder how many he had tucked in their closet? His entire allowance, most likely. No wonder he has only his 10% chances of winning in pachinko.

Karamatsu continued, “Because there was this very beautiful woman, and for a while I might’ve called her mine, but...” He gripped his elbows with opposite hands, fingers sinking into his sleeves, “she rejected my confession,” he squeezed out.

Todomatsu remained unfazed. Alright. So? Todomatsu didn’t give a dang about Karamatsu’s tragic love story. “So you thought that coming here to mope would be a good idea? Why not just follow Osomatsu-niisan in Pachinko or go fishing with Choromatsu-niisan?”

“Heh. They had their own activities planned for this lonely afternoon,” Karamatsu told him, and Todomatsu felt the horror of old English penetrating through him. “And is it wrong that I wanted to spend time with my dear littlest brother? I missed days where we trekked the world solo. I guessed that maybe time with him again would lift my soul from the pits in where it has fallen into. Crammed with skeletons...O-Oh, Totty! My heart is weeping, my brother!” He extended his arms and tightened them around Todomatsu, pulling the younger man towards him before sobbing on his shoulder.

Todomatsu went rigid, praying to everyone in the skies listening not to have anyone barge in during this absolutely humiliating moment of Todomatsu’s probable fall from grace.

“And she was a delicate flower too!” Karamatsu wept, clinging to Todomatsu with all his might. Cod, the counter edge was digging into Todomatsu’s stomach...! “Beautiful and compassionate and oh! Such an ideal diamond, brother! And yet I was not anything to her!” He wailed, breathing jagged as he mashed his face onto Todomatsu’s collar, letting it absorb his misery.

“Ugh! Keep it down, Shittymatsu!” Todomatsu hissed, prepping his hands over Karamatsu’s chest in preparation to push him away. “I’m at work, for crying out loud! And what kind of idiot customer walks up to the cashier to cry? Are you that stupid?”

Thankfully preserving the need for Todomatsu to do the deed himself, Karamatsu released his younger brother, leveling Todomatsu’s gaze with confusion setting as the emotion in his tear-filled eyes. “Umm...Cashier? I thought you were a janitor?”

Oh, Cod-damn it. Todomatsu cringed. Karamatsu didn’t know yet, couldn’t know, will never ever know...! If he knew who knew what kind of shtick Todomatsu will have to put up with and what kind of life he will forever be living with regret and—!

The staff room door opened. “Totty! I think I forgot my wallet here and—” Sen paused, staring at the brothers before flinching. “Oh! Sorry! I didn’t think there was a customer! Please, carry on, sir! You...!” Her eyebrows furrowed as she trailed off, gears clicking in her head. “...look exactly like Totty. Are you brothers? And he’s got a leather jacket and...Huh?”

Karamatsu blinked, thick brows curved questioningly. “Yes, I’m his brother. And are you...? Totty, are you alright, my dear brother?”

Holy crap! Cod, crap-crap-crap! Todomatsu felt his blood run dry. “Ah, yeah! Karamatsu! Sen-chan! I, um, heh!” He suddenly grabbed Karamatsu’s wrist and dragged him off, not waiting for anything else as he led Karamatsu out the Sutabaa door and outside the building to its side. Behind a wall, where no one sale might see them. Might. Because no one important was going to need glancing at a pair of brothers that looked closest to being members of slavery in the caste system.

Which they were, mind you. But not Todomatsu, if Karamatsu decided not to screw things up.

“Huh? Todomatsu, what’s going on?” Karamatsu asked as Todomatsu parted his grip on Karamatsu, massaging his temper and tingling veins for tranquility that didn’t want to come.

“Look. I can explain some other time, but for now, just effing follow my lead, got it, niisan?” Todomatsu ordered lowly, cautious for stares. Sen, the manager, Aida, Sachiko, or any of their foolish brothers. “I am the cool one, you’re the same loser as you always were. Picture yourself when you were eighteen, or just think about your heartbreak. You’re a goner from life. And you have no idea how to speak with your normal, flashy speech patterns.”

Karamatsu was nothing but confused. “Eh?”

Scoffing irritably, Todomatsu snatched the glasses from Karamatsu’s face and put them on himself, then proceeded to take off Karamatsu’s leather jacket from his brother’s body. That stupid shirt had the painful man’s face on it...! Alright, he can find a way around that. All he needed to do was be creative. Karamatsu was already an actor of some sort, so there was no need to...! Bah! Freaking heck with it! Making up stories was never difficult when you grew up as a liar!

Todomatsu flipped the leather jacket over his own shoulders and lifted his chin at Karamatsu.

“Todomatsu?” Sen called out. “Are you two over here?”

Just in time. Todomatsu elbowed Karamatsu’s gut, and after a grunt from him, Todomatsu said, “Follow. My. Lead. Or I’m going to burn all of your clothes before you even blink again.”

“Eh? Uh, ‘kay,” Karamatsu hesitantly agreed.

“Totty? Ah, there you two are.” Sen made herself visible as she stepped out of the corner turn. And being able to now see them openly, she stopped walking, for good reason. “Um, is this a bad time?”

“No, not at all,” Todomatsu said, speaking with an impression of his brother as he tried to wave a hand with dismissal. Cod, he could already smell the cologne. “It’s my brother here. It’s not much, but I find it quite unruly of him to root through my clothing without my permission. I’m just trying to set him straight for it again. Apologies, Sen-chan.”

“Eh?!” Karamatsu half-gasped, only faltering when he saw the stiletto aimed at him in Todomatsu’s glare. “Ah, yeah, sorry about that,” he said lightly, timidly. “I was, uh...Going through a phase? I wanted to be, uh, like him.” He pointed at Todomatsu limitedly. Todomatsu jerked his head slightly. Doing great, you lame actor. Karamatsu-niisan.

“Ah, I don’t think I should be here then,” Sen amended, backing away from them with a light flush and an apologetic smile. “If this is something personal, the last thing I want to do is walk in on your talk.”

“Heh, we’re fine, my dear. Kindly decrease your pressure on our situation,” Todomatsu soothed in a baritone, Karamatsu’s jaw lowering beside him as his eyes dilated. “We will report back to the main cafe shortly. My brother here, must only receive a brief scolding. We will be fine, such as we always can be. Right, my dear brother Karamatsu?”

Karamatsu sniffed, taking his palms to the corners of his eyes. “Cod, you’ve adapted so much...!” he sniveled proudly, and defeatedly, to Sen’s ears. “I’m so proud of you, Totty!”

Todomatsu felt a vein bob under his skin. When they were alone, he was going to kill this man.

But for the meantime, he said, “Oh, do not weep, brother! Forgiveness is always a virtue in our bloodline! I will not hold your prejudices against you! Instead, come into my arms as I will blanket you with comfort that will leave you spellbound in my affection!” And as much as he didn’t want to do it, Todomatsu spread out his arms, which were immediately touching not the air anymore but Karamatsu as he threw himself against Todomatsu’s chest.

“You sound like me! I’m so happy!” Karamatsu cried, though gratefully softly enough for Sen not to hear.

“Can it, niisan,” Todomatsu hissed in reply. “If you mess up the act none of us will be able to walk this earth again without regret dragging our ankles. Just continue being this emotional and we’ll be fine. Make me look cool here.”

“Okay, brother. I...Wait...If you’re acting like me and telling me to make you look cool...” Karamatsu hiccuped. “Does that mean you think I’m cool?” he sobbed out desperately.

Todomatsu choked, his entire body warming as his face fell red. “N-No! You’re not cool! There’s a reason for all of this and I—!”

“I’ll just leave now,” Sen said, wagging her hand as her shoes planted themselves on the ground behind her. “You two sort yourselves out. I’ll be glad to cover you for a bit, Totty, if you need time to settle things out.”

“Your heart truly was mantled from Hephaestus’s golden chamber,” Todomatsu rasped, his body and mind matted with sequins on wounds.

Karamatsu buried his head in deeper, squeezing Todomatsu tighter as Sen dipped her head and vanished from sight. Only then did Todomatsu grind his teeth together and shove Karamatsu off him, making the older man stumble back and catch himself by a pillar, blinking wetly at Todomatsu.

“Okay, enough,” Todomatsu said tersely, eyelids weighing down unamused as his arms interlaced parallel to his torso. “Karamatsu-niisan, can you please not tell anyone of this, ever? I’m gonna tell you everything, but swear to me that all this is to be kept between us. If anything comes out, your head will be what our brothers will see at the dinner table later tonight.”

“Of course! If there’s a secret, I promise of sealed lips that I would take with me to my tombstone!” Karamatsu vowed, a fist connecting to his left breast. “Reveal all you need to, my brother! I await your words.”

“Cod, that’s so painful,” Todomatsu wheezed, then cleared his throat afterwards, lowering the sunglasses for solid eye contact. “I was given the chance to become a cashier because they thought I was you. Or at least, you were me, but I think you might have an idea. They really liked your speaking patterns from the interview, and wanted that to be the first thing that customers heard when entering Sutabaa. So assuming I was you, and wanting to rise from a crappy janitor, I pretended to be you so that I can achieve that higher position. It’s my rise in the caste system, honestly. It’s all I ever wanted.”

“T...Totty...” Karamatsu breathed.

“Iya-ya, it’s not much,” Todomatsu promised, gesturing for emphasis. “But I thought it was the only shot I got. I understood you enough that it wasn’t really hard to be like you, so that was the least of my problems. But of course, it was painful as hell, since the entire week had me trying to be someone I’m not. I guess I...I...” Then the realization, for the first time, hit him, and he wrinkled the leather jacket in his hands, smacked it to the ground, and turned to walk away.

But then there was a hand clamping around his wrist, and Karamatsu had stopped Todomatsu from going any further with his promising hold. “Oi. You aren’t going without finishing that sentence, Todomatsu,” he said sternly.

“They like you more than me,” Todomatsu spat out brokenly.

Karamatsu’s reply was his muteness.

“Think about it, niisan. If it were just you trying to be me before, it would’ve landed me as nothing but a plain old janitor if nothing at all,” Todomatsu blabbered, a finger pushing up the shades as he averted his gaze to his feet. “But when you broke into you, I got the chance of being a cashier again. And now the only reason I’m keeping the job is because I’ve been trying to be you. If I were being me, what would I even be contributing to society? Nothing. Maybe that’s why I lost the job in the first place.”

Karamatsu was still holding him firmly.

“Never mind. I’m babbling nonsense you won’t understand. Sorry, Karamatsu-niisan.” Todomatsu used his free hand to rescue his eyes from the blue lenses that were casting his surroundings in aqua. Then he took Karamatsu’s other hand and pressed their surface on them, securing his fake identity with its true owner once again. “I’ll just return to work now. Pretend that you finally won over me so that they don’t ask why I’m me instead of you.”

“Totty.”

Todomatsu exhaled softly. “Hm?”

“Is that why my glasses have been disappearing all week?”

“...yes.”

“So I guess...It’s best you have your own pair, right?” Karamatsu chuckled, handing back his sunglasses. “You still need to pretend to be me, right? And I still need to pretend to be someone else?”

Todomatsu inclined his head, surprise painting him. “Eh? What do you mean? I’m giving you back your identity, you dimwit, trying to live with mine. Are you so agreeing that it’s better I fake myself instead? Is that how much I suck to you?”

“Far, Todomatsu,” Karamatsu stated steadily. “It’s because I learned before that you can learn when you pretend to be someone else. By being in someone else’s shoes, you come to realize how much there is to love about yourself. Is that not true? Is my painful personality not something you cannot stand? It is, and that’s why you even think of yourself as better than me. The last thing I want is you to think of yourself so lowly because of my accomplishments.

“Todomatsu, you were sick the day I came to the interview as you. But remember, that was the second interview. Sutabaa managed to accept you once, and was willing to do so again after you dropped out when we humiliated you. If they had seen you for who you truly were, then I’m certain that they would still be ready to welcome you again as the real Todomatsu Matsuno as you are.”

“Then...Why did you want to give me these...?” Todomatsu gasped out, trailing his thumbs over the dark blue lenses of the shades.

“I wanted to teach you that lesson,” Karamatsu said, shrugging casually with a small smirk. “But I just explained the mechanics in my agenda, so there’s no use for that now. I think it’s best you just return to Sutabaa again as yourself instead of a clone of me. Because, brother. You’re surprisingly good at it.”

“Gee, thanks,” Todomatsu said, his heart finally softening free from whatever claws had once gripped it. “I’m sorry I threw your jacket like that.”

“There’s always the laundry. Don’t worry about that.” Karamatsu laughed. “Come now, brother. I still have my coffee in the waiting, do I not? Please treat your brother to something to warm his insides from the Antarctica waters in which it has drowned.”

“Ugh, fine,” Todomatsu said, but not harshly, before looking down at the shades. “Are these really mine now though? I think they match your face better than mine. And I think they will miss you if they were gone.” Grinning, he hung the sunglasses from Karamatsu’s top, then stood back with satisfaction, hands pressed to his waist.

“Heh. Thank you, Todomatsu,” Karamatsu said, chuckling.

Then together, they went back to the entrance of Sutabaa, opening the door as Todomatsu cried out, “Sen-chan! We’re back! And we have a coffee pending for—!”

“Oh hey, you two!” Osomatsu greeted, hands in the pocket of his hoodie as he stood in front of the counter, Sen at the other side. “I was actually gonna ask where you were, Karamatsu! I heard you were working here in Sutabaa and I was curious to know if it was true!”

Todomatsu and Karamatsu gaped in unison. “Eh?!”

“But I guess I was wrong,” Osomatsu said, rubbing his nose with a finger. “Totty’s wearing the uniform. Now you make me wanna ask about the rumors: why was I hearing of a Sutabaa cashier who uses Karamatsu slang every time he gets an order? I didn’t wanna believe it, and I still don’t, but maybe I should be realizing that since it’s both of you involved! Of course Totty would have the best impersonation other than Jyushimatsu—you two were besties as kids, right? So it’s safe to say that you were looking up to Karamatsu for a while, Totty!” Osomatsu laughed.

Todomatsu’s stomach coiled. “B-But—!”

“Is that true, Todomatsu-san?” Sen asked, frowning a little.

“It’s gotta be, right?” Osomatsu continued. “Totty would do anything to get what he wants. If being a ‘Karamatsu’ would help him in his salary, then he’d do it. Just like he’d lie to other Sutabaa employees that he was from a university so big when all he was was a NEET. It’s simple—he’s a demon for a reason.”

“Wait,” Sen said, frown deepening. “Does this mean that it wasn’t Todomatsu at the interview? But Karamatsu?”

“Hah? Totty never went to any interview,” Osomatsu exposed obliviously, unaware of the jaws on the floor from the two brothers standing next to him. “Ha-ha! Sen-chan, right? You’re making me laugh here! Don’t tell me you mistook Karamatsu for Totty! I mean, I might, but they’re brothers, so identity thief shenanigans is a thing and so cheating is not hard!”

Sen stared. So did Karamatsu. Todomatsu felt his entire body burn into ashes.

~~~

Todomatsu’s butt slammed on the sidewalk from the force of the hands that had previously shoved him out of the building.

Karamatsu immediately went to his side. “Totty! Wh-What did they tell you, my brother?”

Todomatsu clicked his tongue. “I got fired.”

Karamatsu’s face fell.

“Welp, all in a day’s work, right?” Osomatsu said, spinning his heels and going ahead. “Hey, I won a bit in pachinko, by the way. Wanna try using that in some of the races? We might get half as much if I use my detective brain again to read between the lines!” He laughed. “Just like I did with you two idiots.”

Todomatsu ground his teeth. He really was surrounded by demons.

[duncvns]

Ok hey but you know the scene in stranger things when billy is walking to the pool and all those moms are just thirsting ok imagine that exact thing but the reader is the lifeguard at a private pool for kids with rich parents and she has her sights on Duncan...

okay, i know this has been sitting in my inbox for literal MONTHS but i had too much fun writing this so... enjoy! also this is a little long and i can’t add a cut so im sorry for junking up your dash lol

-

Your whistle blew, shrill and sharp in your ear as it scolded a child running along the base of the pool. The kid looked up at you, pout so evident on her face as she slowed into a walk.

You've been in this tower since noon today and you were only three hours into your shift. Being a lifeguard had to be one of the most painful experiences you've ever had the misfortune of experiencing. You hated kids - they were annoying, smelly, and... soggy, not to mention the neverending fountain of shit that you almost always had to clean if one of them had an 'accident' in the water.

But, you worked at a country club, a noble, uppity one, to be exact. Soccer moms with their designer totes frequented nearly every day during the summer, and if you were lucky, he would show up, his little girl perched on his hip.

You didn't know his name, you didn't even know how old he was, all you knew was that when he sat out in the sun, shirtless and glistening with sweat, you had to cross your legs to alleviate some pressure.

He made your job somewhat easier to sit through, but he didn't know you existed - you were sure of it. He probably had the picture-perfect family, adorable kids and a soccer mom wife who didn't satisfy him in the bedroom.

But you could...

You caught yourself staring down at him, whistle perched between your teeth weakly. Every time he breathed, excitement would stir within you... God, who was this man?

"Hey, goo goo eyes, your shift is over!" One of your co-workers, Chase shouted up at you, his Hollister sunglasses perched on his nose. He was the run of the mill pretty boy who had been trying to make a move on you for months but kept getting turned down. You didn't like boys your age... they fumbled around too much in the bedroom.

"Thank you, Chad." You grabbed your water bottle, heading down the ladder. Chase huffed from behind you, hating how you would always call him Chad when he irked you even in the slightest bit.

"Its Chase."

"I know." You looked over your shoulder to the man, quickly looking back to Chase when his eyes turned to you.

"You know he's like... 30 years old, right? That dude you're drooling over? Plus, he has a kid. And he's divorced!" Chase spoke in a whisper, scolding you for your 'poor' choice in men. You furrowed your eyebrows, peeking over your shoulder once more to look at the handsome stranger.

"He's divorced? What kind of mindless bimbo would divorce him?" You mumbled, chewing lightly on the tip of your whistle as you saw the man stand, taking his daughter in his arms to dry her off. "God, he has no business looking that good while taking care of a baby."

"Do you need to change your panties? Christ - remind me to hit you up when I'm an old man." Chase pulled the whistle from your teeth before ascending the ladder, getting ready for the evening shift.

The man took a towel, wiping the sweat from his brow as he redressed the child in her bathing suit cover. Once again, you caught yourself staring, only looking away in a panic when he locked eyes with you.

You felt giddy as you turned around to head into the locker room, changing so you could finally go home and shower the stink off of you.

"Hey!" You whipped around quickly at the voice, your forehead knocking straight into someone's nose, someone tall. "Ah, fuck!" The man seethed, a bit of laughter in his voice. "You really got me."

"Oops!" You heard a smaller voice- one of a child's. Then you looked up, hand covering your irritated forehead as you locked eyes with icy blues, ones that were unforgiving as they burned into your iris'.

"Shit, I'm uh- I'm sorry. I didn't mean." You looked over to what seemed to be a smaller, more feminine version of himself.

Fuck. The child.

"Fuck! I'm sorry- oh sh- Jesus Christ..." You facepalmed, telling yourself to shut up.

"It's okay. It's nothing she hasn't heard before. I have quite of a potty mouth at home - purely accidental, though." he chuckles nasally, his free hand still pinching his nose. Blood ran down his hand and your heart dropped.

You made his nose bleed.

"FUCK! I mean- crap! Your nose, holy sh- I mean shoot! Let me get you a tissue. Oh, my God I'm so sorry." You scrambled, digging through your pouch into the first aid kit to fish out a small towel. You handed it to him, watching as he replaced his hand with the tissue.

"Is my daddy going to die?" The little girl tried to reach for the towel, eying her father with worry so prominent in her eyes.

"No. Your daddy isn't going to die. He just got a little boo boo, that's all." You placed your hand on her shoulder comfortingly as the man tried to stop the bleeding in his nose.

"Can you take her while I run to the bathroom and clean up? You seem trustworthy enough."

You nodded, dreamily, still dazed from seeing him so close up. You weren't sure if it was the mild head injury making you dizzy or just the sheer attraction you held for this man, but you were weak. "Sure, yeah. I'll try to watch my mouth from now on."

He smiles under the towel, carefully handing over his daughter. "Allison, this is..." He looked back at you. "I'm sorry, what's your name?"

"My name?"

"Yeah, you're the only person around, aren't you?" You could hear a little laugh that made your heart soar.

"Of course. I'm a dummy..."

"...Your name?" He repeated, causing you to look down in sheer embarrassment.

"Oh! It's Y/N. Sorry." You mumbled, reaching out for the child. "And you're Allison? What a pretty name!"

"Yeah!" She squeaked. "Allison Sh-Shep...ard? Seh-perd? Sea-pard... no. I'm just Allison. Allison S, like a snake!" She giggles, and your heart absolutely melts. She was the cutest little girl - she was her father's reflection.

"Do you know your daddy's name?" You question, hoping to squeeze some information from the child. Allison nodded quickly.

"Mommy calls him Duncan, and when we're alone she calls him a self-cen... centered assho-hole." She rears back, covering her mouth. "Oops! Mommy said not to repeat that to anybody ever! Sorry, red!"

"Red?"

"Yeah, red! Like your pretty bathing suit!" You nod, laughing just a bit before Duncan walks back up to you, his hand landing on your mid-back which caused you to stiffen.

"Sorry about that, I hope Allison wasn't too much of a trouble-maker." He laughs, taking the child in his arm again.

"No, she's adorable. Truly." You cross your hands in front of you, smiling dorkily. "She told me your name is Duncan."

"Oh, right!" He thrusts his hand out to you, for a handshake that you accept. "I'm Duncan Shepherd. Pardon my unprofessionalism."

"Oh, no! It's okay, I promise." His hand wraps around yours, the sheer size of it swallowing yours. He wasn't wearing a wedding ring - good. "You're good..."

Duncan nodded, looking back into your eyes, not speaking. You did the same, just taking in the moment.

"Well, uh. I should probably get home, it's almost her naptime." He looked back down to the ground before he kneeled down to pick something up, your sunglasses. "You dropped these. I was going to give them back to you but instead, I got a bloody nose." He laughed, holding the accessory out to you which you took in your hands.

"Thank you. Once again, I'm so sorry. I can be such a klutz sometimes." You took back the sunglasses, letting your fingers linger over his hand a little longer then what was necessary.

"No problem. I'll see you around?"

"Yeah, I'll see you. Bye Allison! It was so nice to meet you!" The child smiles, before yawning softly.

"Bye, red."

[xacesxofxheartsx]

Wrapping Paper

Name: Wrapping Paper Fandom: Epic Seven Category: M/M Words: 3077 Pairing: Kayron/Vildred 

Kayron eyed the Yule tree, which was currently strapped down in the wagon, trying to process the sheer size of it. Would it even fit in Vildred’s home? He had thought the other man was a little more...moderate in his choice of trees, but apparently not. Then again it was the butler’s decision, which made Kayron wonder why Vildred would even let the aging man pick out the tree. Truth be told, as much as he may have wondered, he really did not care. Frankly, what they did was no concern of his. He was only there because well, Vildred was. He likes observing his enemy turned ally; it lets him learn more about him. See what he can use against him. (Plus he likes being able to enter the other’s home and a tree that size…well he held doubts they could fit it through the door).  

He’s learned that the man is steadfast, that he did what he thought was right and damn the consequences. That he was a talented swordsman, gaining the rank of general rather quickly and at young age too. That he had a teacher from the East, whom had gifted him the sword he wields. That even though he does not see him often, Vildred holds a soft spot for the tiny prince of Ezera. These things, and many more, Kayron’s learned through observation and through conversations. The acolyte was able to use the first two to his advantage in turning the man against the Heir of the Covenant through the truth Ras Elclare has concealed.  

He does not care for what reasons the stubborn thorn might have for doing so; only that he was able to use it to his advantage.  

“I do think this spruce will make for a lovely tree,” the Butler was saying, drawing the acolyte’s attention again. “Will you be using the heirloom ornaments or the ones gifted to you by Her Royal Majesty?”

“Hmm.” Vildred’s face took on a thoughtful expression. “Why not both this time?”

“Both?”

“Both. I think both will look good on the tree.”

“And does your friend think? He should have some input as well.” the Butler turned to Kayron, who was somewhat startled for a moment at being addressed, even indirectly, before remembering that he was there among the two, disguised, having shifted his form hours ago so as to not raise neither alarm nor suspicion. The Butler though he was a friend of his master’s from another country, visiting for the holidays. Only Vildred knew the truth and he’d like to keep it that way.

Otherwise blood might have to be spilled.

Pushing the sunglasses further upon his nose—an odd choice of wear considering that though it was midday, it wasn’t very sunny, but they were necessary to hide his eyes—Kayron said, “I think both would look gaudy. The simplistic design of the gifted ornaments would clash with the more…decorated heirloom ornaments.” By the Archdemon, he was going to be sick with this pretense, especially when referring to Diene with a respect she does not deserve, but he reminded himself that he had a role to play right now. The look Vildred gave him made it worth it.  

“I disagree,” the swordsman responded, turning towards him fully, hands on his hips. “The more complicated design would be balanced by the simplistic one.”

Kayron made a disagreeing noise and the Butler looked as though he regretted getting him involved. Good, the acolyte thought. Maybe next time he’ll think before asking for my opinion. He didn’t give a damn about the ornaments, knew nothing about design and balance himself, but oh was it great to have the general’s focus on him. It made him feel something like warmth in this body that felt very little. Plus, irritating the other man was fun. That and…other things. Finding which buttons to push to garner what reactions was something he found fascinating.

Now? The reaction was of narrowed eyes and lips pressed thin but before he could say anything the Butler interrupted with “Sirs, perhaps you can continue this back home? It is rather chilly and I’d like to get back before this afternoon’s tea.” Vildred snapped his head to look at his Butler and nodded. He turned on his heal and walked off, though he gave the acolyte one last look before he did so.

Covering his mouth with a gloved hand—unnecessary as acolytes do not get cold, but again he had a role to play—to cover a chuckle, Kayron followed after.

  It turns out that the tree was capable of fitting in Vildred’s home. It just took being further cut down to fit through the door, the one at the very back of the house leading to the parlor room, and all three of them pushing. Currently it laid in front of the fireplace, which was unlit. Kayron’s eyes drifted towards to ceiling. It honestly probably helped that the swordsman had a spacious home, complete with very high ceilings. Shrugging off his coat and other outerwear meant to protect from cold and snow, Vildred gestures towards the corner between the door and the fireplace, a good distance between both, muttering, “It’ll look nice here, on that white and red rug.”

It took a while, it wasn’t exactly light, but they managed to get it upright in the pot eventually. “Master Vildred,” the Butler inquired, leaning against the wall, wiping the sweat from his brow, “I love trips to town as much as you, but next year, perhaps, we get a smaller tree? I suggest small enough to place on a table.” The journey to and fro and setting up the tree has taken a lot out of him. The acolyte filed that information away. Perhaps it will be useful later.  

In Kayron’s honest opinion, they should really stop this tree tradition because, at the end of the day, he finds Yuletide is a pointless celebration. Hell, put an end to the entire holiday. He does not see the appeal; after all it means nothing when you die and what’s so great about a holiday that’s celebrated the end of the year? To remind themselves of what? Of surviving to see another year end? Of all the blessings received? What utter nonsense, he thought directing his gaze back towards the tree. Out loud he remarked, slipping back into his play-pretend, “I agree. A tree of this magnitude, it is back-breaking work and it is a surprise that we could even get it through the door. To get it to even stand up right.”

Vildred frowned. “That tree is only eight and a half feet tall. My ceilings are eleven feet in height. It’s not that surprising.”

Kayron shot a look at him, one that was equal parts mild disbelief and mild irritation. Only eight and a half feet? That came after they had cut it down again; if they hadn’t then, yes, it likely would not have been able to stand as it did now inside the house.  Lifting it hadn’t been entirely easy, since he had to watch his footing. Weight-wise, though, it posed no issue for him, but he had had to use a fraction of his actual strength so as to not rouse suspicion. Otherwise lifting that tree would have been effortless.  He was honestly looking forward to the end of this holiday so he can go back to being his self again. Pretending to be human made his skin crawl. It always has. How Tenebria could do it, changing her form to that of another’s, so freely, so casually, so willing was something he could never fathom. Maybe it related to her goal of ‘fun’.  

He is drawn from his thoughts by Vildred grabbing one of his arms. He raised an eyebrow. The swordsman didn’t even look his way as he said, “I know it’s early, but I’m going to show ___ where in my room I keep the presents. Then he’ll help me wrap them.”

The Butler looked up sharply, pausing in his fluffing of the branches. “I could—“

Vildred held up a hand to forestall him. “I know you could.” He smiled gently. “But if you did, then you’d know what your present was.”

The aging man looked away, embarrassment and fondness covering his features in equal measure. Evidently, this was another tradition in the general’s home. Where the man would offer to help his employer wrap the presents for Yuletide, but Vildred would always refuse, never wanting to ruin the surprise. It made Kayron want to roll his eyes witnessing it. It made him a little sick too, all this positivity. As an acolyte, a being born of negativity, one could sway that he was perhaps allergic to such things. Perhaps or perhaps his soul was just so dark that positive emotion naturally just repulsed him.  

“Come along.” Vildred turned and started shoving the shadow king in the direction of his bedroom. “The good news for you is that you don't have a gift because I forgot to buy you one. So look all you want.” That whole sentence was a gods-damn lie. Then again this whole situation was a lie. Kayron made no mention of it though; he did smirk a little, however.

Once he and Vildred were in the privacy of the latter’s bedroom, door shut and locked, he pulled off the sunglasses and gloves, tossing them, on the bed before dropping the disguise. “That was the worst spent two hours of my life,” he said after several minutes of silence passed. Vildred shrugged as though to say it wasn’t his issue and to be fair, it really wasn’t, but still the man felt a wave of irritation rush over him.  

“I don’t like,” he continued, slowly and enunciating each word clearly, “feeling as though I’ve wasted my time.”

Vildred tilted his head slightly, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards just a little bit. “Was it though? Was it really?” He folded his arms against his chest with an almost exaggerated movement. “The way I see it those two hours got you out of the house and to socialize with someone other than me.”

“Ah. Yes. Socialization,” drawled Kayron, rolling his eyes. Something he didn’t care for but only did when necessary. Only actually wanted to do when it was Vildred. He would have preferred to follow at a distance, engaging with the swordsman on an occasional basis when the aging butler was out of earshot. “I’m not really a—what do you humans call it?”

“A social butterfly,” replied Vildred, dryly, as he crossed his arms. “Do I really need to remind you that this was an idea of yours? I was content to leave you here.” Though that in itself was risky because the younger man literally admitted to him a few days ago that the thought of leaving him alone in his house as terrifying because the acolyte could, if he truly wanted to, destroy his home completely. Kayron wouldn’t do that, however, not unless he had what he felt was a valid reason to do so. He wasn’t Tenebria, destroying things and killing people out of boredom. He didn’t tell this to the younger man, though. Preferring to keep all his cards up his sleeve until it was time to show them. Also, he didn’t want Vildred getting too comfortable with having him as a housemate. Still though, between taking him along somewhere and leaving him here, he knows Vildred would sooner pick the latter.  

And that reminder had him scowling. “When I suggested it, I hadn’t meant pretending to be a human for two hours.” He really hadn’t, but it wasn’t as though he had protested against it. It had been more of a compromise, really. As mentioned previously, he would have personally preferred to follow at distance, hiding in the literal shadows most of the time, but Vildred hadn’t been comfortable with the thought; in his words it was rather “creepy” and that was fair. As much as he might not care, Vildred was still his partner, his tool, and so the man’s comfort had to be somewhat of a priority. So, they had come up with a compromise: Kayron would disguise himself for a short amount of time and help them with what they need.  

Ah. What he’s willing to do not to be bored.  

“Anyway,” he said, bringing his focus back to the other man and whatever the real reason it was that Vildred wanted him in here for because he was certain it wasn’t for gifts, "would you care to tell me why I’m here?” He blinked then, seeing Vildred dig around in his closet. It seems that while his thoughts were drifting, he had not noticed the younger man moving over to his closet. He crossed his arms, watching with a curious gaze.

“I’m looking for it,” was the reply he received. “It’s taking a bit because I need to do some donating and spring cleaning.” That comment would have had Kayron rolling his eyes for the second time that day were himself not guilty of doing spring cleaning. It isn’t easy thoroughly cleaning one’s resting domain, what with all the blood, rotting corpses, and crumbling skeletons but it has to be done. Otherwise, the place would be unlivable and the stench unbearable. Vildred mentioned something about wanting to see what it looks like, but Kayron...Kayron hadn’t been having any of that and just told him no. While he may not care about many things, that...that is the one thing he does care about. That was place where no human can go to or even leave with their mind intact should they even, somehow, succeed in entering in the first place and Vildred does not need nor should he even consider wanting to be in such a place.

Telling the swordsman no wasn’t easy. Sometimes though, he had to steel his already iron will and just refuse.

maybe he cares more than he thought.

With a little ah-ha! Vildred pulled whatever it was that he had been looking for in his closet. Kayron’s eyebrows shot up at the sight of it. It was wrapping paper and he half wanted to ask “Are you planning to wrap me up?" purely as some kind of joke but he didn't have a funny bone in him and it sounded more than a bit ridiculous. Plus, there was an implication there, that he was some kind of gift, would have had him red-cheeked had he a single ounce of true blood in his body. He cleared his throat and asked, in a deadpan tone, “You brought me up here to show me gift wrapping paper?”

Vildred shook his head. “I brought you up here to show you how to gift wrap.”  

Say what now? Learn how to gift wrap? As he doesn’t like Yuletide, and made his feelings about it quite clear many of times, it’s not a skill he actually needs. Perhaps Vildred just got tired of him doing nothing but bothering him? That’s not true, though. He stays out of the younger’s way, for the most part. Keeping to the library to read the many books there—though he’s read many of them multiple times already—or to tend to business in other places. Planning for the archdemon’s advent is not easy task after all and they have to hurry so that it all falls into place at the right moment because Ras would be waking up soon, a year or so. But he sees Vildred’s hesitation still and he knows that what will make him put everything into this plan is dependent on Ras’s answer.

he knows Ras, though. knows already that the Heir of the Covenant will not give Vildred the answer he wants to hear.  

As important as that was, the more concerning matter was Vildred wanting to teach him how to wrap presents. It’s just another instance that leaves him wondering if Vildred forgets sometimes that he’s not human. Then again maybe Vildred doesn’t forget; maybe he just thinks he needs to have fun or learn some new things. “And why is it imperative that I learn how to do such a thing?”  

“Because I need some help,” the younger replied bluntly, pulling out another roll from his closet, along with a small box, likely containing ribbons, “and I can’t ask my butler for help because I don’t want him know what I got him before Yuletide.” He turned back to the acolyte and set the items on his bed. He undid his hair and shook it out, running his fingers through it to get some of the tangles out before tying it up into a bun. Kayron had looked away, swallowing past the sudden lump in his throat. Damn this man for making him feel things like desire.  

“So, you’re turning to me,” the acolyte finished for him. He turned back towards the general. “Which is odd. Don’t you have others to help you?”

“I’m expected to be at the castle for the Winter festival in two days, Yuletide is the second day of the festival. If I ask for help from them, I’m not entirely sure I can expect them to keep their mouths shut.” Especially around Aither, went unsaid. He doesn’t know the boy and he frankly isn’t interested in meeting Diene’s brat, but Vildred talks about the tiny prince enough to know that when the child is curious the boy won’t stop until he gets an answer and the people around him tend to cave quickly to his demands. With few exceptions, Diene and Vildred among them.  

Kayron opens his mouth, ready to argue, to insist that there’s no need, and Vildred cuts him off with, “Think of it this way: it’s just another way to deal with Tenebria and Nilgal.” The acolyte snorted at that, though there is some appeal and humor to be found in the thought of wrapping those two up and throwing them into a chaos gate.  

“Fine,” he acquiesced, preparing to remove his gauntlets, “but only for that reason.”  

Vildred grinned a that, a genuine one reaching his eyes for the first time in years, and Kayron felt like his undead heart skipped a beat at the site. A feeling he quickly wrote off some weird distortion in how he was summoned.  

After all he was an acolyte godsdammit.

[winterromanov]

we will grow taller together - bucky x reader

PART THREE - YOU’RE VERY LOUD FOR SOMEONE SO SMALL

parts: masterlist

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

extract: He sniffs what could be a laugh if he had any energy whatsoever. “I wish you were psychic. Then you could maybe tell me what goes through a six-year-old’s head.”

genre: nanny x single father!au

taglist: @blindedbyyourgrace17 @verygraphicink @chubby-dumplin @igotkatiepowers @welcome-to-my-studylife @bi-bi-bi-bisexualz @mywinterwolf @mychemicalimagines (still open, message to be tagged)

The following week or so is swallowed by the pre-Thanksgiving rush, so other than a quick text to confirm his number and a Facebook request you’ve not heard all that much from James. Work is mayhem as you try to learn at least eighty holiday drinks combinations and you go shopping with Natasha for Thanksgiving tableware, as her and Steve are hosting Steve’s parents for the first time at their apartment. Your whole family lives on the West Coast so you’ve decided not to make the trip to your childhood home this year. It makes you sad in a constant, throbbing kind of way, to spend Thanksgiving without them, but you’d mutually decided with your mom and dad that the trip just isn’t economically or temporally viable. Even the cheapest flights exceed two hundred dollars and you’d end up spending most of the vacation cramped in a plane seat and listening to babies screaming anyway. Natasha offers a place at their table but you can tell she’s a little anxious about impressing Steve’s family and you’d rather not add any hassle. Looks like it’ll probably be white wine and Friends re-runs for you this year, but at least you’re not fucking working for once.

You think everything has returned to normal. So much so, in fact, that when the weekend rolls around and you turn up to Steve and Natasha’s place in a party dress for their pre-Thanksgiving do it doesn’t cross your mind that James might also turn up. Or what will happen if he does.

“Looking sexy, (Y/N),” Natasha clicks her tongue approvingly when she answers the door, hand on her hip. Your frock is dark blue velvet and long-sleeved, hugging your figure in a way that makes you feel more self-confident than you actually are. It is pretty sexy, you think, but your attempts are always nothing compared to Natasha’s. Her dress is elegant and black and split all the way down the front to enhance her already impressive cleavage, and combined with the gentle curl of her red hair and matching lipstick she looks like a rebellious Hollywood starlet.

That’s always been Natasha, though. She always looks beautiful, exuding a natural class, but also in a dangerous kind of way. She looks like she could break your neck and smile while doing it. It’s pretty fucking powerful, to be honest.

“Nothing new there, then,” you remark, stepping inside. Natasha smirks and hands you a glass of champagne from the table by the door. Tipsy laughter and a Taylor Swift song play from the kitchen, so you follow Natasha’s clicking black heels to the main room of the party.

So far, it isn’t so crowded, but Steve and Natasha are pretty popular (Steve because he’s A Really Nice Guy, Natasha because she isn’t) so you expect the couches and corners will fill up as the night draws on. You recognise most of the people chatting over bowls of chips and hummus but you only know Steve by name, so you naturally gravitate towards him once Natasha’s elbow is caught by a well-built man with brown hair.

Steve is talking to a broad, dark-skinned guy with cropped black hair that you keep seeing around. Both of them look at you when you come over, the unnamed man scanning you discretely up and down with a half-smile on his face.

“(Y/N)!” Steve announces excitedly, squeezing your shoulder. “You know Sam, right?”

“I do not,” you reply, shaking his hand, “But I’m always happy to meet new people.”

“Likewise,” Sam replies. He scrubs up well in a smart shirt and shoes, Steve sporting a similar garb. As is usually the case with these things the girls have obviously made more effort, but in your experience, if a man has combed his hair and put on cologne they’re already too good to be true. “Steve may have mentioned you a coupla’ times.”

“He has?” You quirk an eyebrow, and Steve shrugs. He doesn’t look embarrassed about the fact. “All good, I hope.”

“Mostly. Although, there was an incident at one of Natasha’s parties in your junior year that you might—“

“Okay, so what happens in a crappy basement apartment during college under the influence of extremely cheap beer stays there,” you interject, the two men laughing, “I’m an adult now. All that stuff is behind me, I can assure you.”

You chat to the two of them a while longer, you and Sam mostly swapping funny stories about Steve—he feels like your safety conversation starter, the thing you have in common. Eventually Natasha drags Steve off into the kitchen and you’re left with Sam alone. What is it with Steve and abandoning you with his friends? Not that Sam is a problem. He’s attractive and funny, your sense of humour instantly clicking with his.

“So, (Y/N),” Sam says seriously, “Would you like another drink from the Rogers free bar?”

When you look down at your glass you realise it’s empty already. You’re not a big drinker, not anymore, but another glass to ease any surface anxiety wouldn’t hurt. After all, you think the guy in the jarringly expensive suit by the window might be Tony Stark, the tech billionaire, and the sheer amount of wealth that pours from his figure has left you on edge. That, and the fact you have always strongly believed that billionaires are unethical. Maybe another glass would give you the confidence to tell him that.

(You have no idea how Steve and Nat know Tony Stark, because you know enough about both of them to acknowledge he’s not their typical company.)

You shrug your shoulders and let him take your glass. “Sure. Thanks.”

Sam disappears and you trail after him at a distance, hovering outside the kitchen. You nod to the beat of a Vampire Weekend track, not really paying attention when the buzzer goes off, because people are expected to come and go. Natasha smiles as she slips past you to the door, deftly pulling the latch aside with a flick of her fingers.

Your body straightens from your slouching position against the wall when you realise who is waiting in the hall.

James. James is there, a small child clinging to his neck, the metallic frames of her bright pink sunglasses catching the hallway light.

“Hi,” you hear him say breathlessly, “Sorry I’m so late. Clover has—Clover wanted to see you both, so I couldn’t… Well. She wouldn’t let me leave her with the babysitter.”

“I don’t like Mrs Mary.” A child’s voice—Clover’s voice—responds, her tone low and sullen. “I like Auntie Nat.”

“It’s a good job that I like you too then, huh?” Natasha’s arms reach out and James hands her his daughter. “Nice sunglasses. Always useful in November.”

“If you wear sunglasses you can cry and people won’t notice.”

Yikes. The comment leaves the two adults stunned for a moment, before Natasha combs a strand of blonde hair out of Clover’s eyes, smiling fondly. “Let’s see if we can find you some cookies.”

You move out the way when Natasha comes back down the hallway, watching as James closes the door behind him. He starts when he sees you standing there, but his edges soften when he realises it’s you who is watching. He looks even more exhausted than the evening in his apartment, his eyes grey and hollow, shoulders dipping. He still manages a watery smile for you.

“Tough day?” you ask, even though it’s obvious. His mouth opens. Nods wearily.

“You could call it that.”

“If it’s any consolation, an old lady shouted at me for putting a snowflake made out of chocolate sprinkles on her mocha because she doesn’t like cold weather. I was like…I’m not paid to be psychic, Brenda, or whatever your name is.”

He sniffs what could be a laugh if he had any energy whatsoever. “I wish you were psychic. Then you could maybe tell me what goes through a six-year-old’s head.”

You smile gently, sympathetically. “I think a lot of people would have a hard time telling you that.”

Sam then reappears with your drink, but takes one look at James’ expression before sighing and disappearing again. Moments later he emerges with a second glass of champagne and shoves it into his grip.

-

The party returns to normal for about thirty minutes after, Clover bouncing comfortably between her dad and Nat and Steve and Sam, bright and funny and charming all the guests she doesn’t know with her gap-toothed grin. But it’s like—it’s like a light flicks in her head and suddenly she’s having a meltdown in the bathroom, screaming through tears she doesn’t know how to control. You can hear James talking to her and trying to calm her down, but his voice keeps wobbling, like he’s on the verge of breaking down too. Taking a deep breath for courage, you twist the knob on the bathroom door and invade a conversation you should probably stay out of.

James eyes glance up at you in desperate surprise. The shock also freezes Clover, like the lull in the middle of a hurricane. Her tiny face is red and wet with tears, pained in a way that is heart-breaking to see on any child. Your hand brushes across James’ back as you crouch to meet her height. Blue eyes scrutinise every single inch of your body.

“So. You’re Clover Barnes.” You delicately offer your hand and Clover looks at it, faced scrunched, before slotting hers into yours. “I’m (Y/N). I’m a friend of your dad and Uncle Steve and Auntie Nat.”

Clover blinks back, but doesn’t say anything. She’s not screaming though, so at least that’s something. You’ve done that, at least. Even if it’s just out of shock.

“I have to say, Clover, you’re very loud for someone so small.” You try not to smile as she looks mildly offended at this observation on her height, because six year old priorities, right? That’s what’s really going through her head. The fact that she’s perhaps half an inch shorter than the other girls in her class. “But people used to say that about me, too. There’s nothing wrong about being loud, but there’s no point in having such a big voice if no-one can understand you. You gotta talk to your dad if something is upsetting you—I’ve been told you’re super clever so I’m absolutely certain you can tell him what’s up.”

Clover is silent for a moment, and you wonder if your spontaneous pep talk (which you somehow pulled straight out of your ass) will go totally ignored, but she takes a shaky breath and looks James straight in the eyes.

“I don’t wanna go to grandma and grandpa’s for Thanksgiving,” she sniffles, “I heard you talking on the phone and I don’t wanna go. Please don’t make me go. I wanna stay here with you. Please don’t send me away.”

James almost crumbles away into nothing when he grabs her into a hug, squeezing all the air out of her lungs. Her hands slowly curl around his neck, meeting at the nape, her face burrowed deep into his shoulder.

“I won’t send you anywhere, I promise,” James murmurs. His eyes catch yours and he looks at you in a mixture of amazement and thankfulness and more prominently relief. “Sweetheart. Baby. You’re not going anywhere.”

The tantrum must have tired Clover out because slowly, gradually, she flops in James’ arms; her eyes flutter closed while still pressed in James’ shoulder, so he rises and gestures for you to open the bathroom door. Natasha and Steve open up their spare bedroom so you follow him in quietly, pulling back the bedsheets so he can slot Clover in to sleep the rest of the evening off. She looks so peaceful and relaxed, like a normal six-year-old girl, like she could wake up again and everything would be normal and okay.

But you know—nothing about this is normal. You thought that Steve was being a bit over-the-top about them needing help, but you can see it now. It’s not so eccentric. They need something. Something.

When James pulls the door so only a small shaft of light from the hall glows on Clover’s tranquil face, his hand curls round your wrist.

“I take back what I said, that time at my apartment.” His eyes are frantic. Pleading. “I do need your help. Please, (Y/N). I need so much fucking help.”

You turn your hand so that it clasps his, squeezing tightly. “I’m here.”

[bearfeathers]

ineffable husbands + “That was unexpected.” i love the way you write them!!

Thank you so much!! And thank you for the prompts; I'm having a lot of fun with them. :3

[PROMPT ME!] | [AO3]

As it turns out, not actually doing much to avert the apocalypse can really take it out of you.

Well, that isn't an entirely accurate statement, Crowley muses as he and Aziraphale ride the bus back to his London home. The two of them had done quite a bit;i just that the things they'd done hadn't had very much to do with the world not ending. That had mostly been Adam's doing.

But driving his flaming Bentley—may she rest in peace—to Tadfield through sheer will and then taking himself, Aziraphale and Adam out of time for a little chat had been... draining. He slouches in his seat, arms folded over his chest and legs splayed out as far as the seats' limited foot room will allow. Willing the bus to detour to London is about as much as he has left in him, he knows, and the thought of collapsing in his bed as soon as possible remains a promising reward.

The demon glances to the angel sitting beside him. Aziraphale's hands are folded in his lap, his legs crossed at the ankle and tucked beneath his seat. Presently his head is bowed and his eyes closed as though in prayer, but as the bus is jostled by a pothole, he quickly looks up, alarmed, before realizing nothing is amiss and settling back once more. His eyes remain open but stare ahead of him with that lack of focus that denotes a certain level of exhaustion.

He'd hardly had an easy time of things either. Being discorporated, projecting himself to Crowley in the pub, possessing Madame Tracey—which he had apologized profusely for—and being quite suddenly shoved into a new vessel... Not any more a walk in the park than Crowley himself has had.

But it's over. For now. At least until Heaven and Hell sort their paperwork and do the numbers and figure out just how the two of them should be made to answer for this. However, as the bus comes to a stop outside his flat, thoughts of sleep push all of that to the back of his mind to be examined later.

"Thank you for this," Aziraphale sighs as Crowley lets them in.

"Shut up," Crowley snorts.

"It needed to be said," Aziraphale argues.

"No, it needn't," Crowley declares with some annoyance, leading the angel through his living room and towards the bedroom. "Not with me."

"...not anymore, you mean," Aziraphale says, stifling a yawn.

Never.

Aziraphale never needed to thank him for anything.

He's always spun it as being to avoid trouble with management, but really, he'd never wanted Aziraphale thanking him for his own reasons. Because Crowley never did anything for the angel with the expectation of being thanked. He did it because...

"Right," Crowley agrees. He motions into the bedroom. "You take the bed."

Aziraphale stops short, standing opposite him outside the bedroom door. "And where will you be sleeping?"

"The oven," Crowley answers, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "The sofa, obviously."

Aziraphale frowns as he looks first to the bed and then Crowley. "I'm not taking your bed.

"Don't argue with me, angel," Crowley sighs. "Just take the sodding bed."

"I'm not arguing with you," Aziraphale says with a touch of annoyance. "I was merely going to suggest that since you seem to have purchased the largest bed known to mankind, there's no reason why you should sleep on the sofa."

Crowley knows he's staring. He knows, but it doesn't stop him from doing so. "...you want to share the bed."

The bald statement brings a hint of a flush to the angel's face. He shifts from foot to foot, tugging at his fingers in an anxious tic that Crowley is long familiar with. He'd seemed confident suggesting it just a moment ago and Crowley wonders if there was something in the way he'd just spoken that had done something to change that.

"Well... I just thought it seemed a bit ridiculous not to," Aziraphale says, his gaze cutting away from Crowley's eyes. "Of course, I wouldn't want to make you uncomfortable, so please don't—"

"It doesn't make me uncomfortable," Crowley says, a little too quickly. He kicks himself for that. If he sounds too eager, Aziraphale might be the one scared away. "I just thought you might like some privacy or something. Trying to be a proper host and all that."

Aziraphale's eyes return to him, looking at him in a way that leaves the demon feeling naked. As though he isn't even wearing his sunglasses and the angel is staring him straight in the eye. His body language remains anxious—shy, even—but Aziraphale's eyes are as steady as his words.

"Then come to bed with me."

If Crowley didn't know any better, he could swear his counterpart knew exactly what he was saying. But of course, he doesn't truly mean it that way. Still, this is all a bit more forward than Crowley had been expecting.

"The bed is large enough that we likely won't even come close to touching one another," Aziraphale proceeds to say, not impeded by Crowley's lack of response. "At this point we've shared so many things that a bed doesn't seem all that out of the question. And if I'm being frank, well, my dear, I would prefer to have you close by just now."

Stay with me.

Crowley can damn near hear the words.

"Yeah," he says, his mouth dry. "Alright."

Aziraphale appears to relax considerably, shoulders losing their tension and his hands coming to rest at his sides. There's a hint of a smile on his face as Crowley ushers him in and the demon can't help but feel a bit strange. This is all... just strange. It's been a strange week. This is just the odd little cherry on top, he supposes.

There isn't even so much as a warning from Aziraphale before the angel lazily waves a hand, divesting them both of their clothing and conjuring up matching sets of tartan pajamas in their place. Crowley holds his arms out and looks down to inspect himself before pinning the angel with a stare.

"Really?" he says flatly.

Aziraphale shrugs tiredly. "I was trying to do you a favor but go ahead and waste your energy changing it, if you like."

"I'm not going to, I just think you did it on purpose," Crowley clarifies, pulling back the duvet.

Although Aziraphale doesn't answer him, the smile he's struggling to hide says more than enough. They both slip beneath the duvet on opposite sides of the bed, taking a few moments to make themselves comfortable. It seems to take Aziraphale just a tad longer than Crowley but then he was never really one for sleep in the first place. Necessity, though, sometimes wins out.

"...do we say goodnight?" Aziraphale asks.

"I suppose since you've decided to bring it up we have to."

"Well I don't know; you're the one with all the sleep experience."

"Fine, fine. Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

And that should be the end of it. Crowley should be sleeping in seconds flat. But instead, he's lying in bed, eyes closed, listening to the sound of the angel beside him breathing. He's not sure how many minutes pass before he hears Aziraphale's breaths grow deep and even, their slow cadence telling Crowley that the one they're coming from is deep asleep.

He can't help but look. This is something unprecedented for them and something Aziraphale had been the one to suggest, at that. It's nearly the closest they've ever been. He's never seen the angel sleep; he's seen him weary, he's seen him hurt, he's seen him any number of things, but never sleeping. Not once in these six thousand years.

It's disgustingly clichéd to say Aziraphale looks angelic, but, well... he does. It's so easy for Crowley to stare at the blonde curls against the dark of his pillowcase, catching slivers of moonlight through the blinds that make them glow. It's so easy to stare at his lashes fanned out against rounded cheeks and an expression more relaxed that Crowley can nearly ever recall. 

It's so difficult to only stare.

But that's all he's ever done. Stared and waited and hoped. Wondered. And he supposes he'll just have to wonder still.

***

When Crowley wakes, he knows immediately that he's not where he was last night. Well... Rather, he's in his bed, but it appears he's migrated in the night. He feels his heart leap into his throat when he realizes he's very neatly tucked beneath Aziraphale's chin, his arms around the angel and their legs tangled together. What's worse is the feeling of Aziraphale's arms around him, soft breaths tickling the top of his head.

He can't move.

Aziraphale is still asleep. Moving would surely wake him. Which means he's just going to have to lie here until the angel does wake. Well, there are certainly worse things in the world, he decides. He'll just stay still until Aziraphale wakes, then pretend to be fast asleep to avoid any embarrassment for either of them. Perfect plan.

Aziraphale smells different. That's one of the first things he notices. Although, it's not different so much as it is new. Maybe new isn't exactly the best word for it, but... The typically muted scent of ozone is much sharper and Crowley finds himself missing the smell of paper and ink that usually accompanies the angel, mingled with the smell of something sweet. 

He has to remind himself that this body technically is new. It's almost as though Aziraphale hasn't had time to properly settle in it yet and so it lacks some of its... familiarity. 

But that's fine. It's fine when Crowley realizes with a start that he doesn't remember the last time he'd been held like this. Even if it just happens to have occurred by mistake while they were sleeping, Aziraphale's hold on him is warm and secure, as though he's conscious of what he's doing.

"If you don't mind... could we discuss this later? I don't quite feel like waking up yet."

The sleepy mumble startles him to full wakefulness... but he doesn't pull away. Nor does Aziraphale push him. They simply continue to be, just as they are.

"That was unexpected," Crowley declares.

"When I woke, I wasn't sure what to make of it either, but it felt... fine," Aziraphale murmurs. "Do you...?"

"Yeah," Crowley agrees, swallowing thickly. "Me, too."

There's a quiet hum into his hair, chased by a soft sigh, and Crowley feels himself going boneless as fingers gently run across his scalp. And then a thought hits him.

"You've been awake this whole time, haven't you, you bastard?" Crowley grumbles into the angel's pajama top.

"Shh."

They will definitely be discussing this later and they will most definitely be discussing just how long Aziraphale planned to let him act the fool. But talk is for later. For now, this is will do just fine.

[wickedyan]

If you're willing to take a second one from me: Rire of Boyfriend to Death discovers Tinder, gives someone who really regrets their whole life some good (good for him anyway, not so good for them) old fashioned tentacle sex?

Ok so I know you only wanted sex but Rire is My Mans and I couldn’t not write just a little more than just a PWP.

I took creative license with this, because we don’t really know all of Rire’s abilities… ;) Also, I decided to make this smut more about the unreal aspect of it, rather than focus totally on reader’s pleasure. Maybe I’ll make a part one similar to the night in heaven you spend with Rire in the beginning of his route? (Of course, you would be taking off his sunglasses…)

Rire belongs to @darqx

Character: Rire, Boyfriend to Death

Warnings: Manipulation, Nsfw, Tentacles, Mind Control.

Read on Ao3 here

-

The first thing you noticed when your Tinder date sat down across from you was that he did not lie about his appearance.

He slid into his chair seamlessly, fluffy raven hair bouncing as his pony tail rested over his shoulder. He kept his sunglasses on, adjusting his cravat with long fingers. His voice was deep and sultry as he addressed you by name, a pale hand reaching across the table to take your own, shaking it once, gently.

He was nothing short of a gentleman. He spoke to you with such a kind and gently demeanour, teasing you with only the most pure intentions. Somehow guessing what you had in mind for your meal, he ordered for you. He ate with his mouth closed, pausing his meal to answer your queries about his life, albeit vaguely. He refused to let you take the check, and finally settled on splitting it with you after deciding that he couldn’t win against that stubborn attitude of yours. When you left the restaurant, he shouldered the door open for you, quick to fall in stride next to you, holding out his harm for you to grip onto.

He offered to call an Uber for you, you politely agreed. He waited beside you, glaring at anyone who dared lay their eyes on you. It made you feel warm, to be looked after.

He bid you farewell as you stepped inside of the car, pecking your hand with such warmth that had you feeling a chaste version of euphoria, mind seeming to ignore the too-sharp teeth that peaked through his grin, or the yellow glow that surrounded his glasses.

That giddy grin didn’t leave your face for the rest of the night. Not as you changed into your night clothes. Not as you washed your face and brushed your teeth. Not even as you scrolled through your favourite social media.

Your mind was plagued with thoughts of the mysterious man as you lie in bed, attempting to put your mind to rest for the night. Rire, you recalled his name to be.

What an odd name. Though, you wouldn’t say that he was the most normal person you’ve met. He was oddly dismissive of your questions about his job and social life.

Perhaps he was just shy?

It was no matter. You were sure you’d be able to meet up with him again for another date…

Your teeth tugged at your lip, hands moulding together anxiously. He was so handsome, and he wanted to date YOU! It was like a fairytale. Him, the mysterious prince. You, the pauper who was lucky enough to catch his attention. It brought a flush to your cheeks, cool hands smoothing over the redness. You let out a whine of embarrassment.

Rolling over in your bed, you gazed at the faint light that your alarm clock let out, it was late… squeezing your eyes closed, you fell into a deep slumber.

-

“So good for me…”

The voice was deep, predatory. It resonated deeply throughout your body, but you couldn’t tell what direction it came from.

Dark hallways surrounded you, hallways lit from the minimal lit that came from a flickering industrial light above you.

“Hello? Who’s there?” you called out, listening to your voice echo down the hallways. You didn’t receive an answer. A cool breeze had you shivering, wishing you were wearing more than a sheer nightgown… The floor was a grey concrete, it didn’t feel slimy, as you assumed it would feel. Mould and dark spots covered the walls, spiderwebs without their makers and a distant dripping sound that you just couldn’t seem to locate.

You tiptoed through one of the hallways, eyes flicking from side to side, eyeing every dark corner, anything that seemed to move.

Keen eyes landed on a dark, goopy substance, pooled on the hard ground. Kneeling down, you slowly dipped a finger into the fluid. It was smooth and slimy, dark as it clung to your finger. You brought it to your face, eyeing it carefully, before sniffing it. A familiar scent, one you couldn’t quite place.

You moved to step over the pool, to continue down the long, endless corridor, but something stopped you. Head snapping down to your feet, you watched long, snake-like tendrils that rose from the pool, constricting around your ankles.

You struggled, breathing heavy and heart beating rapidly. Choking on your own saliva as the tendrils began sliding their way up your legs, peaking under your dress and leaving goosebumps in their wake. The tentacles were long and slimy, the dark goop clinging to the tendrils, not transfering onto your untouched skin.

That same deep voice, disembodied and far-away, “You like this… dont you?”

It was as though his words ignited something firey inside of you. Heat travelled up your thighs and through the pit of your stomach, your muscles tensing as fear shot through you. Sweat beaded on the back of your neck, hair damp as it clung to your skin, the dry patches swaying with every heaved breath.

Your eyes shifted quickly, searching for something, begging and pleading to see something that would answer the hundreds of questions that were flowing through your mind.

Where were you?

Was this a dream? Some sort of sick fantasy?

All were left unanswered as the tip of a slimmer tendril slid into your panting mouth. Muffled shouts left your mouth but they all were for not, as no one answered your pleas for mercy. 

“Stop struggling, pet. You love this… you love it.”

Your writhing slowed to a stop and your pain turned to pleasure. You breathed through your nose whenever the appendage inside your mouth gave you room. Thighs relaxing, soft tentacles rubbing at the innermost part of your thighs,   allowing them to curl up under your panties and into your heat.

The voice asked you to repeat its words, its tone was nothing but amused and patronising.

“You love this.”

“I love this.”

“I’m all you need and more.”

“Yo-you’re all I need and more…”

“Now… give yourself to me.”

“I am yours… I am yours!” you screamed as you climaxed, voice ruined and croaky from use.

The voice chuckled, receeding into the distance as the only sound left was the squelchy sound of the appendages that filled you all pulled out, leaving you empty and spent. Your limbs felt heavy and it was near impossible to keep your eyes opened. So, you shut them, the tendrils lowering you to the cold, concrete flooring. You leant over, trying to find where your panties had been put but you missed your destination, the floor sounding a solid smack as your head collided with it. 

With a flinch, you sat up in your bed, panting as you surveyed your surroundings. Your eyes adjusted to the low light very slowly, but all seemed well in your room.

You were in your room, and the mattress beneath you was soaked in your own sweat. Standing, you stripped out of your nightgown and stepped into the shower to rinse off what was left of the sweat.

What a dream.

[trukingofskeletonhell]

Y’all Will Read This

Ok cool now that I have your attention, here’s what I wanted to tell you guys about.

I used to work at a grocery store, at the deli counter. I’ve had some memorable customers. Retail can suck, but most of my customers were nice enough. I remember this one time two very nice, very clearly gay young men came up the bakery counter (right next to mine, I had to cover it when no one else was there) and proceeded to very apologetically order about half of everything that was in the case that night, before leaving to some unknown event.  Another sweet, memorable set of customers was this very energetic middle eastern man and his shy wife. Now, neither of these folks spoke English particularly well, and the wife was very clearly too anxious to order for herself, so the husband had to order for both of them, to the best his broken English would allow. After he ordered for both of them, he proceeded to lean over and kiss his wife on the cheek, after which the lady had to excuse herself for a moment in her embarrassment, and this man, with the biggest, sweetest grin on his face, looked at me and said “I love my wife.” before I handed him his order, and he left, holding her hand. It was a very wholesome moment.

Now, not all of my customers were so wholesome. I had some bastards, but I usually forgot about them pretty quickly. The ones that I remember are the weird ones. Like the guy who ordered a whole, uncut block of cheese, but suddenly decided he didn’t want it after I priced it. But the weirdest was teal suit guy. I have only seen this man once, but I don’t think seeing him again would give me any answers. Allow me to set the scene.

It’s a summer night. Late august. It’s about seven or eight in the evening, and the store is empty, because nobody is out grocery shopping at this hour. I’m at my counter, cleaning the glass. I’m minding my own business, when his guy comes walking around the corner and up to my counter. Picture a kinda tall, fairly muscular white guy, about college age, maybe a little older. Brown hair, unbrushed, but pulled into a man-bun. slight layer of stubble. Just radiating this aura of chill vibes. If you were to look into this man’s mind, you’d hear “stayin’ alive” by the beegees on loop. But the odd thing about this man, and the thing I remember most was what he was wearing. He had no shoes and no shirt on. Teal suit jacket. Pair of suit pants from a different suit. Big, blocky, eighties style sunglasses that matched the teal suit jacket. I just look at this man, who was immaculately clean and groomed other than his unbrushed hair and stuble, and ask if I can get him anything while trying to keep my cool. He just looks past me, at the wall behind me, and says: 

“Do you guys have, like, Cheese?” 

I respond “Yes.” Before I can process this man and his sheer presence. Like I said, he just radiated this aura. But then he just said. “Awesome.” and disappeared like a ship in the night. Just walked right out of the store.

To this day, I have no idea what was up with this man. Didn’t smell, and was too clean, groomed, and healthy looking to be homeless. I don’t think he was sober, but I couldn’t tell you what he was on. Mostly I just don’t know how he got to the store at all. If he was high, he was clearly too high to drive or ride a bike. And he couldn’t have walked, because if he had, his feet would have been dirty. but they weren’t. How the fuck did he get there? Did he teleport? I know he was real, because I told a coworker about him and she said “what, that guy with no shirt?” I have no answers. only Teal suit guy.

[moon-ruled-rising]

as the rain hides the stars

read the full story on Ao3...

ii. it feels so good to be so young and have this fun and be successful

The alarm on the nightstand let out its shrill buzz, unbothered by the fact that it was silenced four times before and its patron hadn’t moved from their bed. A pale hand snuck out from the white duvet and slapped the button before pushing the covers away. The mass of white-blonde hair hidden underneath groaned.

She uncovered her body and put her feet on the floor. Shoving her hair out of her face, she winced at the sun beaming through the sheer curtains on the terrace doors.

After a quick shower, one that left her smelling like honey and lavender and much more alert, she was ready to face the world. She looked for her robe but only found a white button-up shirt draped over the bedpost. She ignored the cold tiled floor and moved straight for the walk-in closet. Her Braavosi apartment was much smaller than her apartments in the palace at King’s Landing, but it was a kind of small she appreciated.

Despite the mess in the other room, she kept her closet and all other areas in her life organized. A habit from princess training. She found her favorite pair of distressed jeans and pulled a pair of ankle boots from their resting spot on the shelf. 

“Dany?” a groggy voice called from the bedroom. 

“In here.” she rifled through a drawer to find a shirt she wanted to wear. 

“That shirt looks great on you.”

Her latest and longest conquest, Daario leaned against the doorway, his eyes raking over her with the same hunger as last night. She shrugged his shirt off her shoulders and tossed it at him so he had at least something covering him. 

She met the heir to the Tyroshi tech company in a dive bar last summer during her stay in Slaver’s Bay. They spent her semester break holed up in an expensive hotel in Tolos, spoiling each other with extravagant gifts and room service. Now they lived in the same apartment building. Considering that their fling was nearing a year old, it was time to cut him loose.

But every time she entertained the thought of ending their arrangement, it left her with a hollow heart. She decided she was having too much fun to quit and allowed herself to continue. Everything was perfect, there was no need to change.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Dany warned.

A roguish smirk grew across his handsome face, “Like what?”

She pulled the black crop tee over her head. 

“Last night was fantastic,” he complimented.

Last night. They had dinner at an upscale restaurant, then went dancing at the hottest, most elite club. Then they’d stumbled back to her apartment, unable to keep their hands off each other.

“Isn’t it always?” she brushed past him to get to the bathroom.

He chuckled and followed her, leaning against the doorway again as he watched her put makeup on with amused eyes.

“So it’s like that.”

She paused applying her face serum to look at him, “Like what?”

When he didn’t respond right away she returned to her routine.

“Dany,” he sighed, “We’ve been doing this for a year.”

“And it’s been great.”

“But don’t you think it’s time we made things official.”

She froze, mid mascara stroke, to consider his words. They had been together for a while and Dany had  finally graduated from University. Turning their regular meetups into something more serious was the obvious move. And Dany was scared of it.

“You know how I feel about that.”

“Yes, but we’ve already been together so long, what’s the harm? Aren’t you ready to take the next step?”

The next step involved him meeting her family and getting approval from Rhaegar for their relationship to continue under the public eye. Which meant Daario would have to come to Westeros with her. Which also meant more cameras and flashing lights and yelling reporters. They’d survived in Essos because there were fewer prying eyes, depending on where they were hiding out. But Westerosi gossipers would scrutinize their every move. To Dany, it wasn’t worth the hassle.

“I’m not.”

“Oh, come on.”

“It’s true.”

“What do you have to be so afraid of?”

“Daario, let’s say that we do want to continue this … whatever we have.” she went back to applying her mascara. “And we want to make it official. That would require a trip to Westeros, specifically King’s Landing. You’re used to the occasional paparazzi standing outside the building, but Westeros is ten times worse. Your picture will be plastered on every magazine cover from Dorne to Casterly Rock, they’ll rip you apart before you can get a word out of your mouth.”

“Dany…”

“Not to mention the fact that if we want to make this official, official, we’ll have to get a blessing from the crown. And while you do have money, you’re still Tyroshi. And since Rhaegar has to make decisions based on what’s best for his realm, and you already put a sour taste in the mouths of the citizens thanks to the tabloids, Rhaegar won’t hesitate to get rid of you.”

“Get rid of me? Dany, that's ridiculous.”

“It happened to the one before you and we didn’t even make it to Westeros.”

“You’re just being paranoid. My family has good diplomatic standing, your brother would be a fool to say no to us.”

She rubbed her lips together to properly smudge her lipstick.

“Make no mistake. My brother is many things but a fool is not one of them.”

She pecked Daario on the cheek before leaving the bedroom altogether.

“This is only the first time we’ve talked about it. Maybe breakfast would change your mind?”

“It’s nearly noon and buying me expensive food won’t change my mind. You’re not meeting my family. Good morning Jorah.”

Dany’s assigned guard was already sitting in the common room, reading the daily tabloids, his feet propped on the coffee table.

She subscribed to them purely out of spite. They were like the great Braavosi comedies of old, hilarious and bawdy. Especially with the rumors they liked to make up about the Westerosi royal in their midst.

“Good morning, Your Highness. Have any plans this morning?”

“I was supposed to meet with Missandei for brunch, but she caught an early flight home. Family emergency.”

Jorah hummed and turned the page. She saw a picture of her from last night. Daario’s arm around her shoulders and her lipstick smudged, party dress riding dangerous high on her thighs and the neckline-

“Oh dear. Rhaegar’s not going to like that,” Jorah commented.

The world stopped turning. The beautiful morning came to a screeching halt as she saw the inset and the headline. 

In all of her time studying the history of the Targaryen Royal Family she’d never read anywhere about a princess suffering a nip slip. Dany was rarely embarrassed about these things, she’d spent time with the Dothraki, but her face burned and she felt nauseous. It was different when her boob was actually plastered across newstands. 

Sure, she partied but she’d always been careful. She and Daario never walked home together from bars and Dany wasn’t hungover so she couldn’t have drunk enough to let the nipple escape her notice.

“Gods, I’m a dead woman.”

Daario came into the common room, fully dressed and saw Dany’s predicament.

“Nice,” he commented to the inset of her breast on the front page.

“No.” she slapped his shoulder. “Not nice. I’m screwed. Why didn’t you tell me my boob was out!”

“If I’m being honest, I don’t even remember how we got home.”

Dany sank into the couch and buried her head in her hands.

“The gossipers are already down there. A lot more than usual.”

“Your Highness, you told me to ‘fuck off and let you have fun’ so I did. Otherwise this could’ve been avoided.”

“Shut up,” she grumbled.

Daario chuckled and Dany cheeks took on a new kind of heat. Her racing heart and mind zeroing in on the one thing they could control. At least her boob would cover up the fact that she walked home with Daario. Gods, they’d been so careful not to let the world get a peak of them. 

“What do you want me to do?” Daario asked, placing his hands on her shoulders.

“I want you to go back to your own apartment.”

“What?”

“I need to figure this out and I need you to not be here while I do it.”

“Dany, baby, I can help.”

“No, you can’t. Jorah…”

She heard the magazine in Jorah’s hands rustle, but all she saw was the Myrish carpet and the way her toes kneaded the plush weave.

“No need. I’m already leaving.”

She heard his heavy footsteps and the door to her apartment slamming. Then the one across the hall. Dany hated that she made him mad, but there was nothing else she could do. She didn’t need his lewd comments when it felt like her world was falling apart. He would be back around later, when he cooled off. 

She wanted to scream. The urge built up in her throat and burned like authentic Dothraki liquor. 

“What in the seven hells am I going to do?”

“I’m not your PR consultant but I think you should go out to your brunch and show them that you’re still well-put together. Remind them that you’re a princess, and a dragon.”

The last thing she wanted to do was show her face. She wanted to crawl back into her bed, put the covers over her head and ignore the present situation. But she was a dragon. When Aegon the Conqueror lost a battle, he didn’t retreat to Dragonstone and sulk, he got back on his horse and found a way. She was the blood of the dragon, nothing phased her. 

“You’re right. I need to be a dragon. I’ll go out to brunch and then I’ll start with the damage control.”

“Maybe those should be the other way around,” Jorah suggested.

“I can eat and email at the same time. I’m a natural multi-tasker. What time do you think it is in King’s Landing?”

“Almost ten.”

Dany grabbed her purse and slipped on her boots. Leaving the apartment building was never a problem before but Sir Jorah had to stick closer than usual. She put on her sunglasses and smiled at the cameras, giving them a little wave. Their voices sounded like gibberish as she passed, the flashes only diffused by the early afternoon fog. Her favorite restaurant, The Foghouse, wasn’t too far from her apartment building.

Luckily, the restaurant was exclusive and as soon as Dany stepped through the doors she was ushered to her table on the patio that overlooked the harbor. Her usual sparkling water was waiting for her.

The waitress welcomed them in Braavosi and asked what they wanted to order. When Dany answered her with ‘the usual’, the waitress just stared at her. Dany gave her the famous, “Don’t ask me, just figure it out” look and she scurried off, fear in her eyes. She took a sip of her water in a small victory.

“Do you think it’s too early to start drinking?” Dany consulted Jorah as she looked over the wine menu.

Ser Jorah made a noise of distaste and she set the menu down. 

She pulled out her phone, hunting through her contacts list for the one woman who could save her hide. Galazza Galare. 

Although Galare was based out of Meereen, her career as a publicist reached further than Slaver’s Bay. She was behind the success of Dany’s last outreach trip to the area, making sure the right photos were published and bullying the publishers into only positive and glowing reviews. Of course, none of her services came free and Galazza never accepted cash if her customer had something better to offer. That was what got her a guest lecture at the University of Braavos, which gave her more interns and interest. She played the game better than Dany’s ancestors.

“Is Galazza there? It’s Daenerys,” Dany stated as soon as the dial tone ended.

The receptionist questioned her in bastard Valyrian, the growling tongue coarse against Dany’s ears. It took everything in her not to hang up.

“Targaryen. Tell her it’s an emergency and she’ll be well compensated,” 

The receptionist put her through. When the other line picked up, an electronic dance beat played beneath Galazza’s greeting.

“Dany, darling, you’ve got to tell me how you do it?”

Galazza’s accented voice was almost a comfort. If there was anyone who could take care of the problem it was her.

“Don’t get me started Galazza. I just want the picture taken down. And an apology from that tabloid if you can get it.”

Fingers tapping on keys accompanied the music, “A formal statement from the publication, I can do. Getting that picture taken down when it’s already on the internet and a majority of the world has seen it will be near impossible, but I’ll see what I can do.”

“What if we did a press release and overshadowed this,” she offered, considering what Daario mentioned earlier about making their “thing” official.

It was tempting to hide away in Essos. To settle down in one of the Free Cities and start on her career as a civil rights attorney, maybe with Daario by her side. Ignoring her family drama was the most enticing part of it.  But did she like Daario enough to take the next step? Sure, they'd been messing around for a while and money wouldn't be an issue but Dany couldn't help thinking that the only reason they were still together was that they were comfortable. Or was she too afraid to admit that she was willing to settle down? No, she was a woman who knew what she wanted, and right then she wanted the embarrassing photo of her down. The other issue could be resolved later.

“I don’t think there’s a way to overshadow this, it’s huge. We haven’t seen a Targaryen nude since … never. Well, there was that scandal with Deria Martell’s nude portraits from the 1800s, but she isn’t a real Targaryen and I think they proved it wasn’t really her in the painting.”

“I just don’t want to deal with Rhaegar.”

Rhaegar took after their father when it came to protecting their reputation. And Aerys wasn’t all that concerned with it either until Viserys. 

He was always causing trouble, Elia said it was because he was the middle child and was jealous of the attention Dany and Rhaegar received. Not to mention losing his mother at a very young age. Starting fights, shoplifting, partying, and bringing home unfavorable women. He lashed out at Dany whenever he saw her. Once he attacked her so viciously it left scars and Aerys had them separated. It wasn’t until the year before Dany finished secondary school that Viserys’ behavior became downright terrifying. 

He was out late drinking in one of the seedy bars in Flea Bottom and the combination of drugs and alcohol drove him mad. He evaded his security officer and stole a car, driving it off the cliffs at the edge of the city. King Aerys raised the banners, but his body was never found.

“I understand, darling, but it may be out of my control this time. I’ll call you back when I figure something out,” Galazza affirmed.

“Thank you so much. What do I owe you?”

“I’ll get back to you on that.”

Galazza hung up as Dany’s food arrived. Chopped eggs with fiery peppers, bacon, and a light gravy with orange slices on the side. Instead of digging in right away, she pushed it around her plate. Her appetite stolen by the events of the morning. Galazza’s answer wasn’t enough to settle Dany anxiousness and she kept glancing at her phone, waiting for the palace to call.

When she finally decided to eat a bite it tasted like cardboard. Not even the fiery peppers woke up her senses. She sighed at it instead.

“Dany…” Sir Jorah prompted.

He never called her Your Highness when he consoled her. He knew that she needed a friend. 

“Galazza said that it might be impossible to get the photos removed because they’ve been replicated and spread all over the internet,” she responded.

“I’m sure everything will be fine. Galazza works hard and you’re her best client. She’ll try everything she can.”

“But what if it’s not enough?”

“Then we hope Baelish can do damage control,” Jorah joked.

Dany ended up getting her eggs to go so she could mope in her apartment. She smiled at the paps as they passed, trying her best to act as though the world wasn’t crumbling around her. How many people had seen her tit today? How many times was the picture shared and reposted?

She changed into her comfy sweats and a baggy tee shirt, her favorite fuzzy socks on her feet. Dany balled up on the couch and stared at her phone on the coffee table, willing the screen to stay black.

Part of her wanted it to ring. Maybe she would get to talk to Elia instead of Rhaegar. Hearing her sister-in-law’s soothing Dornish voice would calm her and give her comfort.

Queen Rhaella died after giving birth to Dany, so Elia took it upon herself to fill the hole when she moved to court. Even though Elia was merely engaged to Rhaegar at the time. The two have been close ever since. Dany even stepped in on babysitter duty when Elia needed her to. Despite a whole army of nannies and governesses, Elia insisted on raising her children herself, even when her duties as Queen Matrimonial took precedence.

Dany couldn’t stand the waiting. Patience wasn’t one of her virtues. She busied herself in the kitchen, cleaning the dishes and rearranging everything. Ser Jorah came in to shoo her out because she was making too much noise. So she moved to the en suite bathroom and scrubbed down the tiles and organized her makeup. She made a point of watering the plants on the terrace even though they got plenty of water sitting outside. She also wanted to move the furniture around, but Ser Jorah stopped her from doing that too. 

She made them lunch. Dany wasn’t a great cook, she was decent from a certain point of view, but as long as the dish was simple she could do it. And when they were done, she cleaned the kitchen again. 

Instead of finding more useless tasks to busy herself with, she balled back up on the couch to stare at the phone screen again. 

When the phone began vibrating, Dany didn’t believe it. But it wasn’t Elia’s personal number, just the palace’s secure line. She slid her finger across the screen with hesitation and turned it on speaker.

“Hello?”

“Dany…”

It was Rheagar. His voice sounded disappointed. She toyed with a fuzz on her sweatpants, feeling oddly vulnerable. The last thing she wanted was Rhaegar’s disapproval.

“I’m glad you called,” she offered.

“I think we’ve both been dreading this conversation.”

Since this morning, she thought. 

“Dany, I think-”

“Rhaegar, I’m really sorry. I know I messed up, but I honestly didn’t know. I was too tipsy and should’ve left the back way but if I’m being honest I didn’t think there would be so many photographers.”

“Dany, I think it’s time you came home.”

“What?”

“Besides your behavior in Essos, Elia and I think it’s time you came home. Aegon and Rhaenys ask about you a lot. They miss you.”

“They do?”

She’d only been home for two days the last time. Hardly enough time for young children to enjoy their aunt. And they crowned Dany the fun aunt because she brought them candy and gifts from Essos.

“The annual charity gala is tomorrow and we want you there. I’ve arranged for a flight early tomorrow morning so you’ll be home in enough time. You’d better be on it.”

Dany didn’t respond. She didn’t know how. Something in her yearned for Westeros but another part of her dug its stubborn heels into the ground and refused. She didn’t belong in the spotlight. The events of last night proved that. 

That was why they wanted her home. So they could control her movements. 

Before Dany could come up with a wiseass remark, the line clicked. Rhaegar was gone. She had to pack, he wouldn’t appreciate it if she was late.

[writing-radionoises]

birthday

Nagito Komaeda has a birthday party.

Or: Author loves Nagito Komaeda with every bone in their body and insists on writing something for his birthday instead of working in class.

-----

The sunlight filters through the sheers on the window.

They barely do a good job to hide it, and instantly, he knew quite well that Izuru had opened the curtains when he awoke.

Sitting up in bed, he stretched his arms up above his head, slowly awakening as he rubbed his dull green eyes.

What’s today again?

Komaeda slips out of bed, legs wobbling underneath his weight as he was quick to get dressed. His normal white tee shirt, jacket, and a pair of shorts.

Shorts had become more normal for him to wear, to make his braces more accessible in case they needed adjusted, or just taken off entirely.

Speaking of braces, Komaeda began to put them on. One on each ankle, one over each knee. It’s minimal support, but it works well, and wearing them isn’t just embarrassing.

Running a brush through his fluffy and tangled white hair,Komaeda hopped down the stairs and into the kitchen, becoming face to face with a face. The hair made it look like Izuru’s, but the smile was Hajime’s.

“Good morning,” Hajime greeted, stepping out of the way of the doorway between in the entryway and kitchen, allowing Komaeda to pass through and sit at the table.

The clothes Hajime was wearing were Izuru’s, so he must’ve awoken as the other, and switched later. His dark brown hair is tied up in a messy bun, Hajime was never good with hair, though he also hated hair in his face.

Izuru must’ve left unexpectedly.

“Good morning,” Komaeda greeted, returning the smile, “Did Izuru eave unexpectedly?”

Hajime nodded, tucking a piece of hair behind his ear, “Yeah, he had something to do. He was up really early, and left immediately after he was done doing… Whatever he was doing, I don’t know.”

Komaeda nodded in return, “What’s today?”

“April 28th.”

Komaeda fell silent, Hajime didn’t not speak with months and days unless it was a special occasion.

“Your birthday?”

“... Oh,” he replied, a sheepish grin on his face as he nervously began to mess with his jacket.

“The others had something planned for you, upon Chiaki’s request,” Hajime added on, standing up from the table and going to make tea.

“Is her programming going well?” Komaeda asked.

“I’d assume so, Izuru is the absolute best at what he does,” the brunette answered, “He’s kinda frustrated with it, though. Sometimes we’ll accidentally switch, and I’ll end up with a hand full of hair…”

Nagito chuckled a bit, “Must be an interesting experience.

Hajime rolled his eyes, bringing a cup of tea to Nagito, beginning to walk away from the other when Nagito grabs his hand and brings him closer.

It’s silent as the white haired one carefully analyzing Hajime’s face.

Heterochromia, a red rim around his left eye, it’s been there since he’s been born, but other time as grown brighter.

Freckles, so, so many freckles. Too many for Komaeda to count. They litter his cheeks and the bridge of his nose, they’re a more golden color than Hajime’s skin tone.

And, of course, the scar. It’s a faint, red scar, it looks like stitches. It disappears into Hajime’s hairline, but Komaeda knows well that it traces all around his head. You can just barely feel it if you run your hands through his hair.

“Komaeda?”

“Sorry,” he responds, letting go of Hajime’s hand and turning away.

The brunette only smiles, and presses a kiss to the other’s cheek as he checks his phone.

“Hey, we’re going swimming with the others.”

With some help and a little bit of packing, Hajime and Komaeda finally manage to get into the car and get ready to go. Komaeda helped to the best of his ability, grabbing his emergency hospital pack and packed snacks, while Hajime did most of the heavy lifting and putting  stuff away. Once they were in the car, though, Izuru took over.

Hajime was… Not good at driving to say the least, he had almost crashed the car multiple times.

Izuru let his hair down and quickly brush his hair flat, and began to start of the car. He grabbed Komaeda’s hand and gave it a quick squeeze, then beginning to drive out to the beach.

Izuru was not one for conversations or greetings, he is probably the absolute worst at communicating of everyone Komaeda knows.

Somedays, Izuru won’t talk at all, but those are normally very bad days, the days where Izuru is stuck out, and finds himself so overwhelmed, that he just goes nonverbal.

Nagito doesn’t like those days very much, Izuru is truly a joy to be around.

And seeing his happy is probably just god’s gift to the human race.

“Are you okay?” Nagito asks, and Izuru nods.

“I apologize, I left the curtains open this mor-”

“Don’t apologize for that,” Komaeda said with a snicker, “Rough night?”

“You could say that,” he replied, “I couldn’t go back to sleep around 4 AM, so I just worked on Chiaki’s coding. I had intending on being out until you awoke, but…”

“You got upset?”

“I was about to melt down, and I’m sure you didn’t want to awake to that,” Izuru replied, “I had our little come out, and she made breakfast, and switched to Hajime.”

“Aah, so you’ve had an interesting morning,” Nagito replied, and he nodded.

“Yes, I suppose so,” answered the other, “Though most things I do are interesting to you.”

Nagito shrugs as Izuru parks the car, beginning to tie up his hair again and put on his sunglasses. Komaeda hops out of the car.

In a distance, Hiyoko stands on the picnic table, dancing while Ibuki plays some song very horribly on a plastic recorder, with Mahiru yelling some sort of lyrics that Komaeda couldn’t quite make out. Peko was sat on the table next to Hiyoko, a red faced Fuyuhiko on her shoulder, asleep with sunglasses on.

“Hope he wore sunscreen,” Izuru piped up from behind Komaeda, a lunch bag over his shoulder, “We should get going.”

Komaeda nodded, taking Izuru’s hand and letting him lead the other towards the others. Now closer, Komaeda could tell that Mahiru was yelling the lyrics to Fireflies, and Ibuki was playing along to the song. He watched Ibuki slowly sneak up on the sleeping Kuzuryuu and play a very loud and out of toon note, the blonde startling awake and glaring at Mioda.

Izuru winced at the noise.

“Hey, what the fuck was that for?” Fuyuhiko called out, hopping up and beginning to go off on Ibuki as she continued playing on the recorder, and Peko watched with a smile before turning to Komaeda and waving.

“Hey, happy birthday.”

“Oh, uh, thank you…” He stuttered out.

“Happiest day of birth, Nagito!” Sonia called out from the ocean, waving as she run up towards the crowd. Her hair was already wet, it appeared she was already out swimming or something.

“Oh, so the birthday boy arrived!” Hiyoko called out, hopping down off the table, it appears she didn’t notice Nagito during her dancing.

Kazuichi had snatched Izuru away from Komaeda, to talk about something to do with Chiaki’s new body. The two were sat in the open truck of Kazuichi and Gundham’s car, robot pieces and animal fur scattered about the floor of it. Akane and Nekomaru were already setting up a volleyball net and game, something Komaeda new he probably wouldn't have the strength to participate in unless he wanted to snap his ankle in half.

Gundham was sat on the beach with his hamsters, Sonia beside him with her surfboard pushed aside, helping him build a little sandcastle for the hamsters. Her hair was tied up similar to Izuru’s, it was braided and twisted into a bun. Komaeda had seen Izuru with such a hairstyle a couple of times.

Mikan was setting up a separate table for food with some help from Peko, who had gotten up at some point, and Komaeda once again didn’t notice.

Twogami hasn’t shown up quite yet.

Komaeda took a seat on the bench as Mahiru pitched up the umbrella, then sitting beside Komaeda to watch Hiyoko hop into Ibuki and Fuyuhiko’s fight, watching Hiyoko push Fuyuhiko into the water, who tripped over, grabbed Ibuki’s hand, and took her down with him. Hiyoko stood laughing, before Fuyuhiko kicked out one of her legs and had her tumble down into the ocean as well.

Mahiru smiled and chuckled, then turning to Komaeda, “Hey, are you 24 this year?”

“I think so,” Komaeda responded, shrugging, “I stopped keeping track after the project.”

“Well, once Chiaki is all up and ready, we’ll figure it out,” Mahiru responded, “Naegi and co left data files of us from the Neo World Project here upon Izuru’s request to place into Chiaki’s coding. She should know what year it is.”

“Hopefully,” Komaeda said with a smile, “It feels like we’ve lived here our whole lives.”

“Yeah, it does,” answered the redhead, her head snapping back over to Hiyoko as she heard the little one call out her name.

“Mahiruuuuuuu!” She cried out, desperately trying to get seaweed out of her hair.

“Coming!” Mahiru responded, getting up and running over to the little blonde,

Ibuki and Fuyuhiko had left the ocean Ibuki now running over to Mikan to help her and Peko set up the lunch table.

Komaeda turns his head to see another car pull up, one he had recognized as Twogami’s, the blonde hopping out of the car.

Despite the, living on Jabberwock for years now, Twogami still keeps up with their disguises. They switch them up every other week or so, and today, they were Togami.

They took a lunch bag out with them to the table, dropping it off with Mikan, Ibuki, and Peko, and then going to join Kazuichi and Izuru.

Izuru had left the conversation not long after, though,his hair down once again with little braids in it. It was a habit that Kazuichi had picked up when around Izuru, he liked braiding the other’s hair. He approached Komaeda, pressing a kiss to his forehead as a greeting.

“We should go swimming,” Nagito said with a smile.

“Do you want to?”

“Why would I ask if I didn’t?”

Izuru shrugged, nervously glancing to the side as Nagito hopped up and dragged Izuru back over to the dock by the shore, glancing back to the other every now and then. Sometimes, Nagito wondered how Izuru even dealt with his hair, it got everywhere, it was sometimes just such an inconvenience to him.

But then again, Izuru is not in it for convenience. Inconvenience means unusual, something to do.

Nagito paused at the edge of the dock, sitting down on the edge and beginning to take off his braces, setting them behind him, as he looked up at Izuru.

“Hey, come here!”

Compliant, Izuru sat down on the dock edge beside Komaeda as he leaned his head on the other’s shoulder, taking off Izuru’s sunglasses and putting them on himself.

“You know, you don’t have to pretend to be emotionless.”

“I’m… not…”

“Izuru Kamukura, I’ve known you since we were teenagers,” Nagito insisted, “You are far from emotionless, I know you’re excited.”

“I request proof of that?” Izuru said with a smile.

“You were talking to Kazuichi and I watched you stop yourself from happy flapping!” Komaeda answered, “As if Kazuichi doesn’t want Sonia do that all the time.”

Izuru blushed and looked to the side, “Look, I have my reas-”

And with that, Komaeda pushed Izuru into the water with a laugh, hearing some sort of startled noise from the other as he fell into the water.

Within a few moments, the long haired male emerged from the water, hair covering his entire face. He looked like some sort of seaweed monster, before he brushed it back and began to quickly tie it up.

“Did you think that was funny? This’ll be ten times as funny,” he said, and Komaeda quickly noticed the shift between Izuru and Hajime’s tone, as Hajime took a hold of the other’s waist and pulled him into the water with a grin, followed by Komaeda’s thrashing and giggling.

After the thrashing and some sort of a splash fight between Hajime and Komaeda, they both dried off, Komaeda got his braces back on, and went back over to the others.

Sonia helped Hajime put his hair up into a hairstyle similar to hers, and Twogami seemingly produced a cake out of nowhere

They had lunch, a picnic lunch, filled with various different things.

Mahiru placed the candles on the cake, four green and white ones.

The others gather around and begin to sing, and by the end of the song, Nagito finds himself crying.

24, huh?

About 17 years now since he lost everything.

Not that he really had it in the first place.

The candles remain burning as Komaeda covers his face in his hands and continues to sob.

Everyone is quiet in shock, nervously glancing around to try and figure out what to do.

“I… I wasn’t supposed to, to live this l… oonng…” He whined out.

He was supposed to have died about 9 years ago, and he found himself looking forward to that day.

To finally become a stepping stone, or whatever the fuck he believed at the time.

His thoughts stop as He feels a pair of warm hands hug him tightly, his head now on Hajime’s shoulder.

“Hey, hey, you were supposed to live this long. Everyone lives for a reason. You escaped your own death more than once! That’s amazing, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it is! Very remarkable!” Sonia called out, joining in on the hug.

One by one, everyone joined the hug, until Komaeda was out of tears, unable to feel anything but happiness.

I wish… That my friends and family live good, long, and happy lives.

The wind blows out his candles, and carries his wish to wherever it going.

Happy birthday, Nagito Komaeda, the wind whispers back, happy birthday.