#race to the mansion of tomorrow

[metro-nix]

I really enjoy RTTMOT, a little animated series by SpiceVipe on YT where Sochiebot is a game show host, so I gave drawing her from memory a spin. Tried to capture one of her many fancy outfits.

[jromanoff]

Pink Jeeps and kittens II R. George

Pairing: Regina George (2024) x Reader, Karen Shetty (2024) x Reader (platonically)

Warning(s): none

Authors note: I haven't written anything in two years, so please bear with me :)

Summary: You damage Regina's pink Jeep when you swerve to avoid a kitten

Word count: 1.5k

It was an accident.

You didn’t mean to drive into some garbage cans on the side of the road with Regina´s pink Jeep, but you couldn´t just hit the cute black kitten that sat in the middle of the road.

After successfully evading the kitten you quickly jumped out of the Jeep and walked over to the kitten, which was in the middle of the road. In fact, you were so focussed on the kitten that you failed to look both ways for traffic when crossing the road. As you put a step on the road a car approached, honking. You quickly jumped back on the pavement in fright.

When you calmed down a little, you crossed the road to the kitten again, this time looking both ways for any traffic. You leaned down and picked up the kitten. “Hi buddy” you spoke to the cute kitten in your arms, petting its head as you walked back to Regina’s pink Jeep. Not only did you scratch her beloved Jeep; moreover, you brought a pet inside it. If Regina discovers any of this she might even buy a new custom car, you thought. Besides that, Regina will probably be angry at you and would never allow you to drive in her Jeep again. You were determined to not let that happen.

You got back behind the steering wheel and put the kitten on the floor on the passenger side of the vehicle. Now you just had to make sure Regina wouldn’t find out about any of this. The first step to ensure this was to temporarily get rid of the kitten in a pet-friendly way, but who would take a kitten in without a second thought? Karen, you thought, and immediately turned the car around to Karen’s house.

It was a 5 minute trip to Karen’s house. When you arrived you quickly jumped out with the kitten in your arms. You rang the bell, hoping it was Karen who would open the door and not one of her parents. Your prayers were answered as Karen opened the door. “Hi-“ Karen started, but gasped as she saw you standing there with a kitten in your arms.

“Is that a kitten? He’s so cute! What’s his name?” Karen said excitedly as her eyes widened at the sight of the small animal in your arms.

“Yeah, hi Karen. He doesn’t have a name yet. I kinda wanted to ask you something…” you answered her questions and immediately got to the point. Karen looked at you, curious as to what you were going to ask her. “Could you perhaps keep this cute kitten at your house today? I know it’s a big ask, but I just saved him from being ran over by a car.” you continued, waiting for Karen to say yes.

“Why?” Karen questioned as her eyebrows furrowed in thought.

“Well… I’m on my way to Regina’s house…. And I’ll pick him up tomorrow to get him checked out at the vets, but you know how Regina is with animals” you explained to Karen who still wasn’t entirely convinced, but you had one last trick up your sleeve. “You can even name him if you agree, you know” you told Karen and her eyes instantly lit up. “Deal” she said with a big grin as she made grabby hands at you. Rolling your eyes you gave the kitten to Karen, who immediately hugged it to her chest.

“Thank you” you grinned at Karen. Part one of your plan was complete. Now you just needed to make sure Regina wouldn’t find out about the scratch on her Jeep.

Feeling relieved that you’ve successfully placed the kitten in Karen’s care, you hopped back into Regina’s pink Jeep, your mind racing with ideas on how to fix the scratch. As you drive away from Karen’s house, you can’t help but worry about how Regina will react if she finds out about the damage to her beloved custom painted pink vehicle.

As you arrived at Regina’s mansion, you took a deep breath and tried to calm your nerves. You carefully inspected the scratch on the Jeep, hoping it wasn’t as bad as it had seemed at first. But alas, it was quite noticeable. Trudging to the front door, you summoned all your courage to ring the doorbell and waited for your girlfriend to open it.

When your girlfriend eventually answered the door, she took in the sight of you standing there with an apologetic expression.

“Alright, what’s up with you?” Regina said, her perfectly manicured eyebrow raised as she leaned on the door frame.

“Why would there be anything going on?” you said, nervously looking around and trying to evade your girlfriend’s gaze.

“You’re looking guilty about something. Spill,” Regina demanded, narrowing her eyes at you.

“Okay, fine. I messed up” you admitted, “I was driving your Jeep and I… accidentally scratched it”

Regina’s eyes widened in disbelief. “You scratched my Jeep?” she exclaimed, her voice hardening.

“I know, I know” you hurriedly responded, feeling the need to explain yourself quickly before Regina unleashed her wrath on you. “But it wasn’t entirely my fault; there was a kitten in the middle of the road, and I swerved to avoid hitting it. I couldn’t just run over that kitten”

Regina’s expression softened slightly as you explained what happened, but there was still a hint of frustration in her eyes. “So, what are you going to do about it?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest. She wouldn’t let you get off so easily, she had that Jeep custom made for her after all.

“I’ll take it to get repaired” you promised your girlfriend. “I’ll find the best auto body shop in town to make it look as good as new again.”

Regina nodded, seeming to consider your proposal. “Fine” she finally said, this time without any annoyance present in her tone.

“I’ll pay for it, too,” you offered your girlfriend.

“No need. I’ll pay for it with my dad’s credit card. He lets me use it for whatever I want anyway,” Regina said, then smirked. “But I do expect you to make it up to me somehow…”

“And how do you suppose I do that?” you smirked back at your girlfriend.

“Oh, I have some ideas,” Regina spoke, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she pulled you inside the house and up to her room.

The dimly lit room was filled with the scent of massage oil. Regina sat in front of you on her king size bed with her upper body bared as you massaged her shoulders. At first you assumed Regina bared her upper body for… other reasons, but unfortunately for you she just wanted a massage.  

“This was not what I had in mind” you groaned.

“Too bad. Shouldn’t have scratched my car then” your girlfriend snickered. “Now stop complaining, I’m trying to relax and enjoy my massage”

“Unbelievable…” you muttered under your breath as you continued to massage your girlfriend dutifully.

“Did I just hear something?” your girlfriend teased you.

“No” you quickly denied her accusation.

“I thought so” Regina said smugly. “I also called with Gretchen and Karen before you arrived, you know?”

“Sounds fun” you offered, confused as why your girlfriend would mention this to you in the first place. She called with Gretchen and Karen often to discuss all of the rumours that went around at school, that wasn’t new to you.

“It was, Gretchen told us about a rumour that went around about Janis” your girlfriend snickered, “Karen also told us she got a kitten at home for a day,” she continued her story. You tensed up at this information, your hands stopping their movement at Regina’s shoulders. “Someone brought it to her house and asked her to pet-sit it.”

“How thoughtful of them to think of Karen to pet-sit. She loves-”

“Cut the bullshit. I know it was you” Regina cut you off. “She named him Orange, by the way”

“Are you serious? It’s a black kitten” you frowned in confusion. Karen was something else.

“Yeah, and you allowed Karen to name it. What did you expect?” Regina snorted.

“Fair. Then I guess I’m taking Orange to the vets tomorrow” you shrugged, you were the one that promised Karen she could name the kitten after all.

“And after going to the vets, you’ll get my car detailed on the inside too right?” Regina asked. She hated the mess pets made and doesn’t want it in her Jeep, of all things.

“Absolutely”

“If I see one cat hair in my Jeep when you come back tomorrow, we’re gonna have a problem. Am I clear?” 

“Crystal” you spoke. You knew Regina wasn’t joking about that, she was very serious when it came to her custom pink Jeep.

“Now please continue my massage”

“Alright” you sighed out as you got back to massaging your girlfriend.

She may be bossy and mean sometimes, but you love her all the same.

[f0point5]

would you consider writing the time when max realized that he loved yn?

i remember that he was like in a mindset of idgaf what happens with her im js happy being best friends and having her in my life but i wonder how he got to that point

The way this came out…idk I hope you like it 😂 I really wish I’d retconned this whole situation but I stayed true to the fic timeline.

I just…I really hope you don’t hate it 🫠

✨Set after Max wins his 3rd championship in Qatar✨

Honestly, who (is he) to fight the alchemy?

Max has been in love before. He knows what it feels like. It felt like winning a race. The adrenaline, the elation, the satisfaction, the sliver of relief. He didn’t think there was a better feeling, and if you feel that when you’re with someone, then that must be love.

He never felt like that with you. So he wasn’t in love. He loved you, but he wasn’t in love. Thank God for that, he’d always thought to himself. Max didn’t put effort into games he wouldn’t win and the games you played with men didn’t have a rule book. He was just so lucky, to have you as a friend, and a roommate, and a feline co-parent, and that’s how it would stay.

Except, when the journalist had asked him if you were going to live with him after he retired, he didn’t know what to say. Of course you would, except, how would your boyfriend feel about that? And of course he wanted you to, but he wanted a family, too. But you were family, in some complicated way that he’d never realised before that moment might mean that you wouldn’t always be…with him.

And he didn’t have the desire or the language skills to explain that to a random German journalist. He’d rattled off some answer about how he never knew what the future would bring. It was true, he didn’t think much about the future. But he should have, because when he did it always had you in it.

He wanted a house, and a wife, and kids. It wasn’t like he envisaged doing all that with you. Except, he hadn’t envisaged doing any of it without you, either. It was always you imagined having breakfast with, you he imagined would teach his kids to ski, you he thought about when he thought about buying one of those mansions in the hills above Monaco. Naively, he hadn’t imagined either of you with partners that would mind you and Max living your lives together. It sounded fucking stupid when he thought about it. But, it’s not like he was going to marry you, because he’s not in love with you.

It’s not like I’m in love with her. He’d said that before.

Aren’t you, Max?

Isn’t he?

Is he?

So now here he is, at this totally-not-a-party party, celebrating his this third world championship, wondering if he’s in love. Wondering if that even matters. The music is loud, not enough to drown out his thoughts. He can’t even drink too much because he still has a race tomorrow. He feels lightheaded enough.

He doesn’t know why he’s questioning himself. He has an answer. He knows what being in love feels like, and he doesn’t feel that about you. How he does feel about you, is…not quantifiable. Except he’d really like a name for it right about now. One that’s not going to spin his whole world off its axis. But then, he’s not exactly the axis, is he? Not really.

He should feel like the centre of the universe tonight. He’s lost count of how many times he’s received praise and congratulations, plaudits, and pictures, even gifts. Everyone wants to be in his orbit, everyone wants to talk to him, everyone except you.

You’re leaning against the balcony, bopping along to the music, talking to his dad of all people, your flushed face and lazy grin telltale signs you’ve had too much to drink. Jos is as close as he ever gets to smiling, a telltale sign he’s had too much to drink, and the two of you are, as usual, talking over each other. His eyes linger on your long legs and gentle curves. It would be cutting a corner, to say he’s in love with you, because how can you not be at least a little bit infatuated with the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen? But that’s not love, exactly. Even half drunk, with all this talk of spinning and the party beginning to blur at its edges, the only thing he can see clearly is you. You don’t even notice him looking, because you’re so used to feeling eyes on you.

No, being around you has never felt like winning much of anything. It actually feels a bit like he’s fighting for his life. It feels like…driving, he realises, as the gin starts to hit.

Being around you was like being in the RB19. Like being behind the wheel of something that could kill you, but fits you like a second skin. Like the illusion of having control of a force of nature. It was like living on a knife edge, but building a home there. Comfortable with the uncomfortable, they’d called him, and nothing had ever made him as uncomfortable as you.

If that was being in love, he’d probably been in love with you for as long as his dad said he was.

You don’t notice him looking, but Jos does. He waves Max over, and Max is glad for an excuse. His body gets up before he’s decided to, and he blinks furiously as he walks, trying to focus his thoughts enough to hold a conversation with you when he’s beginning to think he might-

“Maxy,” you say, grinning like it’s the first time you’ve seen him all night.

Fuck. Fuck.

Oh, fuck. The gin’s coming back. For a second he feels like he’s either going to ask you to marry him or vomit all over you.

“I’m leaving. She’s all yours,” Jos says, and Max steadies himself. His dad leans over and gives him one last hug before switching to Dutch. “Get her to bed. And yourself, also. You’ve still got to race tomorrow,”

Max nods and waves him off, closing his arms around you when you wobble, leaning into him for stability. Jos gives you a pat on the shoulder before disappearing into the crowd, and you teeter again, pushing you further into Max. The extra weight is like a balm on what is now a gaping, raw wound, with the nerves exposed. He will never recover from this.

You turn in his arms, scrunching your nose in displeasure as you look up at him. “I hate this hat,” you flick the brim of his World Champion cap. “Worst hat they ever made you. Next year, we do a better one,”

“Okay,” he says, chuckling as the hat leaves his head.

“Can I have this?” You’ve already put it on.

“Sure,”

Take it. Take my Valkyrie. Take the trophy. Take my last name.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

He doesn’t know how he’s looking at you. Is it different than he looked at you two hours ago? Different then when you were 19?

He just shrugs, tipping the hat back for you, since it’s so big. “You’re drunk,” he yells over the music.

You lean in, so close that he’s intoxicated by the scent of your perfume, champagne, and Red Bull. He turns away from you slightly, because he’s had too much to drink to be this close to you.

“I know,” you whisper to him, your lips grazing his cheek as you talk. That’s not helping. He turns back to you, finding your eyes searching his. For the first time, he’s worried what you might see. Because you’ve always seen him too clearly. It was awful, then exhilarating, now it’s just fucking terrifying. Your eyes narrow and Max thinks you’re about to outright accuse him of wanting- “You’re supposed to be drunk, too,”

He laughs. He laughs at your pout, at getting away with it, for a little while longer, at least, and he laughs because on the night he’s won a world championship he realises he lost his heart a long time ago.

Loving you didn’t feel like a winning a race, it felt like driving in one. And after all, isn’t driving all he ever wanted to do?

“I am, Engel,” he says, “trust me, I am.”

[amirasainz]

Hi loves, if you want more drivers and wags drabbles, don't be shy to request something!

I hope you'll like this one. I will also add a masterlist soon! Please send some requests(can be only driver, drivers and wags or Sainz family), I need some inspiration!

(Wish me luck, I am writing a physics exam tomorrow)

-XoXo

Chaos before her arrival

Chaos. Everywhere at the grid was chaos. People are running left and right. Mercedes mechanics carrying flower bouquets in their garage. McLaren bringing an extra princess like sofa in theirs. Ferrari has three personal chefs at the motorhome.

One might think the royal family is coming to the grand prix. But one wouldn't be so wrong. In fact, Amira Sainz, the paddock princess and littlest sister of Carlos Sainz, was attending her first GP after the winter break.

With staying in Colombia for filming the 3rd season of Narcos, babygirl didn't have a lot of time to attend her big brothers GPs.

On one hand, Carlos was thankful that his baby sister wasn't surrounded by the drivers and their crazy girlfriends.

I mean, can you believe the audacity from Lily and Alex to go shopping with his baby sister because:" Baby, you look so warm, let's get you some shorter clothes to cool you off"(Alex) and "Baby, I saw this really cute handbag for 30k and it reminded me of you. Let's go get it!We can be all matchy-matchy" (Lily)

Or George and Carmen with their "Sweetheart you have to come to London with us. We can have our own tea party the mansion from Downtown Abby and wear our Tommy Hilfiger clothes and...."

Or Pierre and Kika and their "good hearted" invitation to Portugal because, apparently, babygirl is looking too pale. So she has to spend the whole winter break in a villa with only one bedroom (ups) and a private beach with them. Obviously!

But the worst of them all were Charles and Alex. Carlos can't even think about it. The last time his sister came to visit the grid, Charles had the audacity to give her a sparkling pink La Ferrari. And if that wasn't enough, he and Alexandra had to drive her around the city (let's be honest, our girl can't drive. But that's OK, cause she is pretty) with her sitting in Alex lap to "get the full driving experience cherie"

So, as you can see, Carlos wasn't very happy to have his sister attending a GP with these demons around her. His poor angel, nearly getting eaten alive by those monsters (is he dramatic? Yes. Does Carlos care? Absolutely not!)

But Carlos heart, mind and soul hurt the whole time she was in Colombia. What do mean his darling sister isn't by his side or by their family. She's just a baby! What if someone robbed her? Or her car gets stuck? Or worse, she has to go buy things with her OWN money?!

No, Carlos couldn't live with that thought either. So either way, their wasn't really a good solution to his problem.

When he saw all the teams acting crazy, decorating their garages, how his sister likes them and cleaning EVERYTHING, his blood was boiling. His baby, darling sister is staying in HIS team garage, on HIS half. (I'm looking at you, Charles and Alexandra)

However, the last straw for him was when he saw all the wags waiting by the entrance for Amira. They stood at the entrance like hinters waiting for their prey.

Oh Carlos could feel the grey hairs growing

And Amira? During the whole fiasco, babygirl was in the spa getting ready for her exhausting day. Looking pretty the whole time and watching the race IS pretty exhausting. Our poor babygirl🥺

@stinkyjax @khaylin27 @xoscar03

[otomehoneyybearr]

Keith VS Kagari

The Beast Tempts the Little Rabbit Episode 1

Ep2 | Ending | Epilogue

If I were to head to Jade on an errand to buy books for the owner—

("Enjoy the seasonal flowers in the flower-viewing event!" ...So that's why it's so lively here.)

Every flower I’d seen was rare, and it filled me with excitement.

(There are so many delicious-looking stalls, and I'm starting to get hungry.)

(I've finished the task the owner asked me to do, so maybe I should just enjoy the event as it is.)

Emma: "Ah...!"

Man: "My bad."

Suddenly, a man running from behind collided with me, causing me to stumble.

Emma: "No, I'm the one who should apologize!"

The man nodded and then hurriedly disappeared into a large mansion along a deserted street.

(I think might have been in the way. I need to be more careful.)

(Huh...?)

I suddenly caught a sweet scent, different from that of flowers, and stopped in my tracks.

Curious, I search for the source of the scent and came across a mobile vendor with a sign that read "DORAYAKI" in large letters.

(Dorayaki is a traditional sweet from Kogyoku, right? I remember Owner made it for me once.)

(It feels strange to see it in Jade.)

My stomach grumbled, expressing its hunger.

(I haven't had it in a while, maybe I should have some.)

Emma: "Excuse me, could I have one dorayaki, please?"

…..

???: "One dorayaki, please."

Staff: "Sorry, buddy. The lady there just bought the last one."

Staff: "Come back tomorrow!"

???: "I see, got it."

???: “...Dorayaki.”

???: "...Hm?"

......

Emma: (Why is this happening...)

???: "..."

(Who is this guy?)

Though I was supposed to be enjoying the event, savoring my first dorayaki in a while and strolling through the town,

I now found myself cornered by a man I didn't recognize.

(Could it be that I just don’t remember him...? Despite him being so eye-catching?)

With his fiery red hair tied up, expressionless emerald eyes, and the sweet, yet fleeting scent that enveloped him, there's no way I could forget him.

The man with the emerald eyes, who had been staring at me intently, slowly brought his well-defined face closer.

Emma: "Hey, there's a suspicious person here!"

???: "Suspicious? That's rude. I was just trying to stop you because you started running."

Emma: "Anyone would run if they realize they're being followed."

I try to escape, but he grabs both of my hands and holds them against the wall, blocking my way out.

(Since it’s come to this, I have no choice but to use what Owner taught me. It’s my first time doing it though…)

Silently apologizing in my mind, I kicked the man with the emerald eyes between the legs as hard as I could—or so thought.

???: "If you’re going to do that, create an opening first."

(Huh? This guy is NOT normal.)

In an instant, the man with the emerald eyes tangled his leg around mine, thwarting my movement.

Words of desperation raced through my mind.

???: " Also, your gaze dropped too low. What good does it do to let your opponent know that your next move is to kick them?"

Emma: "S-sorry?"

(No, wait, why am I being coached right now?)

???: "More importantly, did you forget something?"

Emma: "Huh? Forgotten something...?"

???: "What are you doing?"

(That voice...!)

I turn my face towards the familiar, low, calm voice.

Standing there like a godsend is Prince Keith, the first prince of Jade.

Back when he visited Rhodolite as a royal guest while I was serving as a Belle to select the next king,

I remember being comforted and saved many times by his sincere and boundless kindness, despite his lack of confidence.

(But, Prince Keith has a secret that he can't tell anyone...)

Prince Keith cautiously closes the distance between us.

The usual gentle and calm atmosphere fades away, and is replaced by a glare towards the man with the emerald eyes.

Keith: "I heard your voice and came here. You, move away from her."

(I’m saved...)

Emma & ???:

"Prince Keith..."

"Keith, huh?"

(... Huh?)

Keith: "Huh? Kagari? And Emma?!

(Kagari...? Does that mean he knows Prince Keith?)

Keith: "Why are you two in Jade...? No, more importantly, why are you in such a position...?"

Keith looks back and forth between me and the man with the emerald eyes, and suddenly begins waving his hands in a flustered manner.

His cheeks seem to be slightly flushed and… I have a bad feeling about this.

Keith: "I'm sorry, I had no idea you two were acquainted like that, I... I... I've interfered."

(I knew it, he did misunderstand!)

Keith: "Just ignore me like the annoying weed I am."

Keith: "Or rather, I should disappear as soon as possible, right? Uh, um, best of luck to you both!"

Emma: "Wait, Prince Keith, it's a misunderstanding. Please help me!"

Keith: "Huh?"

...

Emma: "I'm sorry for calling you a suspicious person when you were just trying to return my wallet."

In a café—after the waiter finished taking our orders and left, I immediately bowed deeply as if grabbing onto the table.

Kagari: "It's fine, raise your head."

Keith: "Kagari?"

Kagari: "Sorry for trailing you and cornering you against the wall."

Kagari: "If there's ever a next time, I'll call out to you even if you're eating dorayaki."

Emma: "Ah, so that's why you didn't call out immediately. Thank you for your consideration."

Keith: "Even after all that... Emma, you're truly a generous woman. Thank you."

After showing a relieved expression on his face, Prince Keith clears his throat softly.

Keith: "Now that the misunderstanding is cleared up, let me properly introduce him."

Keith: "This is Kagari Amagase, the second prince of Kogyoku."

Keith: "Jade and Kogyoku have had exchanges since ancient times, so Kagari and I have known each other since childhood."

Emma: "I see!"

(That's why their interaction seemed so relaxed, like they're comfortable with each other.)

Keith: "If I remember correctly, wasn't it when the king had you brought from Kogyoku to train me, Kagari?"

Kagari: "Yeah. You had spirit, but you were surprisingly weak."

(I've seen Keith training with Licht before, so it's hard to imagine him being weak.)

Keith: "Those hellish training sessions were unique, both then and now."

Keith: "Those memories are nostalgic..."

From his wry smile, I could tell the training had been extremely harsh.

Keith: "In return for the training, I taught Kagari about medicinal herbs."

Kagari: "Kogyoku is always bustling with injured people, so knowledge of medicinal herbs comes in handy."

(Kogyoku is still a country constantly at war.)

(And Kagari is also feared as a demon.)

From appearances alone, you wouldn't guess it, but his expressionless emerald eyes reflect nothing, which made him a bit intimidating.

Keith: "Kagari, this is Emma, a friend I met in Rhodolite."

Keith: "I know it might sound presumptuous for a giant guy like me to call someone like you my friend."

Emma: "If anything, I might be the presumptuous one. But I'm glad you consider me a friend, Prince Keith."

Keith: "R-really? That's... I'm glad."

His shy smile made me smile in return.

(Prince Keith always brings comfort no matter the situation.)

Kagari: "Rhodolite... Ah."

Kagari: "So that sweet scent earlier was the smell of roses. They bloom year-round there."

Kagari: "Cherry blossoms also bloom all year round in Kogyoku. We're like flower buddies."

Emma: "Right, I guess so."

Keith: "Oh, that sounds nice. Since Jade is also abundant in nature, maybe we could join the club?"

Kagari: "If you join, it'll be more like being plant buddies than flower buddies."

Keith: "That suddenly took away the cuteness... It's sad, but I'll decline joining."

(Prince Keith seems quite disappointed...)

Waiter: "Sorry for the wait."

(Wow...)

The waiter leaves, and I glance at the table.

In front of me is a mille-feuille, in front of Prince Keith is a thick galette with various flavors to enjoy,

And in front of Kagari is a stack of dorayaki.

(I thought the "Dorayaki Tower" was just a joke of a name, but it's quite literal.)

Emma: "I never imagined there would be such whimsical sweets in Jade."

Keith: "The pastry chef here is from Kogyoku, you see. They put it on the secret menu at Kagari's request."

Emma: "I see... What a thoughtful gesture."

Kagari: "Thank you for the food."

After saying a silent prayer, Kagari begins to slice the dorayaki with a knife and quietly starts eating.

His flawless eating style mesmerized me, as it maintained a perfect balance even though it looks like it might collapse at any moment.

Kagari: "Princess."

Emma: "Huh? Princess? Did you mean me—ugh!"

Keith: "..."

In the blink of an eye, the dorayaki is stuffed into my mouth.

Despite feeling flustered, the gentle sweetness of the red bean paste spreads in my mouth as I chew.

Kagari: "Which do you prefer, the dorayaki you had from the mobile vendor or this one?"

Emma: "I, I like them both. By the way, the dorayaki I had was also with smooth red bean paste."

Kagari: "......I'll buy some tomorrow."

(Maybe they were sold out, and he couldn't have any.)

(Kagari is... unpredictable in both thought and action.)

Keith: "Dorayaki is highly effective for Kagari, so it's good to remember just in case something happens."

Emma: "Understood. I'll make sure to remember it well."

Keith: "Right. Emma told us why she came to Jade earlier, but what about you, Kagari?"

Kagari: "I'm hunting someone down."

Next

▼・ᴥ・▼

[miralunawritez]

Veneer x Fem!Assistant!reader

Background: The reader is going out with friends, she is wearing a kind of revealing outfit and Veneer gets insecure and nervous because the reader looks absolutely irresistible. (Veneer is in love with the reader, which she doesnt know that)

Genre: JEALOUSYYYYY

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You and a few of your friends are going out to a new club that just opened, you guys all decided to match in a nice lowcut black dress with thigh high black heeled boots. You were walking down the hall of Velvet and Veneers Mansion when you walked past Veneer..

"Where are you going?" Veneer says, looking you up in down. "Im going out with some friends, why?" You ask, looking at him with a confused expression. Veneers blood ran cold, looking around for an excuse for her not to go. "You cant leave yet, I need your help with something."

You check your phone to look at the time, "Veneer I dont have a lot of time, what do you need?" you look at him, frustrated. "My nail polish is chipping off, can you redo them please?" he pleads. "Can it wait til aft-" "NO." he yells, cutting u off. He nervously clears his throat as your expression changes from frustration to concern "I mean no."

"Fine." You roll your eyes, grabbing his arm and pulling him into the dressing room. "Sit." You say, clearly frustrated. You pull out some neon green nail polish, kneeling in front of him and taking his hand in yours. Veneer watches you intently as you repaint his nails, a blush creeping onto his face from your touch and how pretty you look when your focused.

You finish painting his nails, pulling his hand up closer to ur lips to blow on the fresh paint. You glance up at him, realizing hes looking right at u. Your heart races as your face starts to burn up from being flustered. "There, all done." You say as you stand back up. "Thank you." He says while looking at his freshly painted nails.

You check your phone again, "I really have to go now, I was supposed to be at the club 5 minutes ago" you say, seeing that your friends are blowing up your phone asking where you are. "Wait! I still need your help!" Veneer says frantically while panicking. "What now veneer? I seriously have to go!" "I dont know what to wear tomorrow." Veneer says, you look at him completely shocked and dumbfounded, "You seriously need help picking out your outfit for TOMORROW?" you yell, clearly stressed.

Veneer looks you in the eyes, "Yes." "Veneer, your like 18, you can figure it out yourself!" You check your phone again, 5 more minutes has passed. You groan, obviously annoyed as you walked to his room to pick something out for him to wear. You walk into his huge closet, you pick out a shirt and show it to him, "Ehhh, no." He says, disapproving. You roll your eyes and put it up, picking up another shirt, aggressively motioning to it. "That shirt is ugly, I dont even know why i have it." He looks at it with a disgusted look. You groan loudly, putting it up.

30 minutes and 30 shirts pass, you show him another shirt and he finally approves of it. You check the time and realize you were supposed to be at the club 40 minutes ago. Your jaw drops in anger and shock, you look up at Veneer, taking a deep breath to calm yourself down before you rip this boys hair out. "Oh nooo, looks like you cant go now.." He says sarcastically, hiding his excitement and happiness. "I guess not." You say in disappointment.

Veneer notices your disappointment, he starts to feel bad for what he did. "How about this? Since I made you miss going to the club tonight, tomorrow I take you shopping, any store, no budget, as much stuff as you want." "You dont have to do that Veneer." You say, smiling at his offer. "I insist, a day all about my dear assistant." He says, putting his hands on you shoulders. "Thank you.", you turn around and hug him. Veneers face turns a bright pink as his heart skips a beat, hugging you back. He smiles to himself, his plan on keeping you from going out worked.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sorry if its short!

[obxlovers-posts]

Pretty in pink

Warnings- smut 18+

Summary- cute lil fluff rafe being sweet. Sarah’s friend stays at her house with rafe

Requests are open! :)

Word count- 1,272

-

Sarah sets down a small box with different nail polishes next to me on the couch. I reach in pulling a couple out looking through them

"Take them all, I haven't used them and don't wanna waste"she says

Rafe sits beside me holding his hand out I look at the nail polish in my hand and hand them to him. I watch him shake his head and put back the dark blue.

"I'm gotta go, John B needs me. You want me to run you home?"sarah asked rafe looks at me

"Uh, no I can wait here"i say giving her a smile

"I likely wont be back"she says slipping her shoe on

"I'll make sure she gets home"rafe says still looking through the colors. Sarah doesn't fuss, she also doesn't like her brother, but she knows he won't let anything happen to you.

Being Sarah's best friend means you've spent a lot of time in the mansion and a lot of time spent around rafe. Sometimes it felt like you knew him better than Sarah who would blow him off or argue with him. With you it's like he is a different person and Sarah can tell which is why she trusts him with you. On the other hand she knows you and how you light up around him or how you get shy all the little things just as you know of him.

"We can do something tomorrow"Sarah says hearing the honk from the Twinkie

"It's fine Sar"I say before she heads out the door

Rafe grabs my leg from beside me tugging it so I'm facing him with my feet in his lap and he holds up a pale pink nail polish to my foot. I smile to him as he smirked to himself placing the box aside. Not what I would've chosen but he likes it

He takes my foot in his hand rubbing circles on the bottom. He starts painting my toes and surprisingly it wasn't a disaster. He wipes off the extra leaving a pale pink stain on his finger. I watch his hands as he switches feet letting the other one dry. I look at his gold ring it's usually on his index finger is now on his middle finger I scrunch my brows.

"You okay?"he asked looking at me as my eyes meet his

"Your ring it’s different"I say nodding my head

"Sometimes I play with it and move it around"he says finishing my toenails he brings my foot closer to him blowing on it making me giggle

"Don't mess it up" he groans as I wiggle

"How much time do you spend looking at my hands?"he smirked

"What?"i ask

"You noticed my ring. "he says looking at me in between blowing so the nail polish dries. My mouth is dry and my heart is racing. I adore the look in his eyes.

“I notice a lot about you”I say he looks at me before tapping my toenail

“All dry”he says pulling it closer to him placing a kiss on my ankle and kisses on the inside of my calf

"Rafe"I say as he leans up his hand following his lips on the other side of my leg pushing it closer to his face kissing my knee

"Hmm"he hums against my skin as his face moves up to my thigh my head falls back trying to hide the smile. He’s usually touchy but this is different and it’s bringing butterflies to my stomach

"I wanna see you pretty girl"he says I lean my head back up biting the inside of my lip he smiled his hands trail down to the hem of my summer dress pushing it back. I try to back myself up but his hands slip on my ass pulling me back to him

"Rafe not on the couch someone could see"I whisper

"Let them watch"he says peeking up to me as his hands work the lace on my underwear tugging them towards himself I lift my foot and he tosses them on the floor

His face returns to the inside of my thigh my head falls back once again as he gets closer I feel him stop and his hand wraps around my throat. The cold ring making me go crazy and I swallow as he leans above me rubbing my clit with his other hand

"What did I say" he says pushing his lips into mine as his finger slips into me making me moan in his mouth he quickens his pace adding another finger

"My girls so wet"he says and I can see the lust dripping in his bright blue eyes he moves back down my body his mouth hovering over my exposed pussy. He slides his finger back in until I’m met with the cold hard metal of his ring I groan my hand finding his and pushing it deeper

“You like my ring inside you?”he asked tilting his head

“I like you inside me”I say watching his eyes Subconsciously moving myself closer he removes his finger replacing it with his tongue sending a rush through me. His hands hold my hips causing me to clench harder around his head. My hands quickly find his hair. He groans wrapping his hands under my ass cheeks pulling me up with him I wrap my legs around him

He packs me upstairs to his room laying me on the bed quickly taking his shorts and boxers off.

He pushed me back on his bed towering over me he rubs his dick on my stomach trailing down before slowly pushing himself in I gasp taking him in I wrap my hands in his hair pulling his face to me kissing him. Moans escaping into his mouth and he pulls away shaking his head

"Rafe"I say panting trying not to moan his hand squeezes my boob

"Let it out pretty girl"he whispered and I didn't hold it back as he thrusts harder into me. He stops lifting my legs and placing them on his shoulders fixing himself and slamming back into me his hand returns to my throat I give him a smile

“That’s right my girl”he says throwing his head back with a smile he can’t hide

“R-Rafe”I moan trying to tell him I’m about to cum

“I know baby I feel it”he says and I melt around him his lips meet my neck sucking on it sweetly as his pace quickens. He rolls me over and lines himself up sinking back into me he pulls my hair towards him before he slows him pace his dick throbbing inside me as he finishes

“Take it all my girl”he says pushing himself all the way in I moan feeling him slide out and fall beside me onto his back. catching his breath and pulling me into him

"I'm glad Sarah left you to me"he says kissing the top of my head he holds my hand up sliding the ring off his finger and putting it on mine though it’s too big

“I promise you my girl you’re not just one of my toys”he says tilting my chin up placing a kiss on my nose giving me a smile

“I sure hope not Rafe Cameron”I say falling back into his ocean eyes twirling the ring on my finger

“You remind me of the color pink”he says his blue eyes shine and a smile spreads across my face he places his hand on my cheek rubbing his thumb on it pulling me closer for a kiss

[basichextechml]

Wet Braids and Ribbon Ties

Wednesday Addams/Fem!Reader

Rating: Teen // 2.4K Words // No pronouns used for reader, but implied Fem, Soft as hell, Teen for graphic jokes and it being somewhat suggestive at the end, Wednesday being someone emotionally vulnerable, Makeout sesh 

A storm brings you closer to Wednesday than you’d ever thought it could.

---

     Pattern recognition was a necessary trait of human evolution, and essential for the continued survival of any species. Those that came before you had used it to scavenge food, tame animals, create languages, and form communities. Sure, you were still doing these things, but it was less urgent, society collectively pushing past those base instincts to refine such senses. Vaguely, you wondered if your ancestors would be a bit disappointed that your brain’s neocortex was being used to psych yourself out over the sight of braids. While they were trying to figure out what berries and fruits wouldn’t kill them, you were worrying about Wednesday Addams and her twin braids that seemed to haunt you. Though, you guess it wasn’t their fault that you had pavlov'd yourself into associating the hairstyle with pretty brown eyes and a penchant to make your heart race.

     It was all made much worse by the storm that had been rapidly approaching Nevermore. Again, ancestors fighting for their lives in the elements- while you were fighting for your life at the sight of Wednesday with water droplets clinging to her lashes.

     Wednesday’s investigation into the murders around the town had all but halted, all her leads running dry. The Sheriff wasn’t responding to her evidence, and Xavier hadn’t made any moves- but she still felt a pull in her chest, like something was missing. She had requested (demanded) that you follow her to the Gates mansion to poke around once more. Enid had vehemently rejected both of your requests to follow.

     “What time are we going then?” You ask, leaning against her bed frame as you watch her fill up a bag with flashlights, rope, and a first aid kit.

     She zips the bag shut in finality, “Tomorrow night, after curfew. We’ll have to walk, so wear a jacket.” It seems she never got over the time you wore a tank top in 45-degree weather and you kept putting your freezing hands on the back of her neck.

     “Isn’t there a storm coming, though?” She raises an eyebrow as if asking ‘so?’, “We don’t know how structurally sound that place is, what if it floods?”

     Wednesday lets out a quiet huff, lips pursed in a thin line, contemplating your words. Finally, she concedes. “You’re right, be ready to leave at 4. I’ll meet you in front of your dorm.”

     Okay, yeah that seemed more reasonable-

     “4? Like four in the morning?” You questioned incredulously, arms crossed in front of your chest.

     There was a ghost of a smile at your confusion, an inherent pride to it. “I thought you wanted to beat the rain?”

     While Wednesday had pavlov'd herself into being associated with the debilitating symptoms of falling in love, you also came to associate the girl and her long, dark braids with the troubling feeling of everything going wrong at once.

---

     Stupid Pavlov. Stupid neocortex. Stupid pattern-seeking brain.

     Due to years of evolution, you were now trudging through cold sheets of rain in a forest with the girl you liked looking for clues on a murder investigation at 4:48 in the morning. Your boots making contact with the mud made terrible squelching noises as you both slowly made your way back to Nevermore, the only sound between you being that of twigs snapping beneath your weight.

     This endeavor had resulted in nothing, it was a long shot if Wednesday was being honest. She had already found the evidence once in the basement, and it had been moved when she came back. Why would the perpetrator come back to the home? She had no clue- but she had nothing else to go on, and was feeling a bit -to her disgrace- defeated. While she was in the middle of looking around the basement for the umpteenth time, the storm predicted on the forecast came early, The house, just as you had predicted, began flooding, cutting her even deeper.

     Now, with no fruits born of her labor, and your cold hand in hers guiding her through the dawn of a new day; you were slowly and surely going home.

     As the lights of Nevermore Academy shone through the thicket of the forest, you both continued on your leisurely pace, despite the pouring rain. You both were already wet, running would do you no good now. Despite the shiver that ran down your spine at the nipping cold, you were fine with staying outside a little longer.

     “I’m sorry,” Wednesday said suddenly. The apology nearly made you stop in your tracks, looking at her in disbelief. Never had Wednesday apologized to you- for anything.

     The look on your face, as if you weren’t trusting the words she was saying, snapped at the strings of Wednesday’s heart. Enid’s words come back to haunt her, tearing into her about her inconsiderate nature. She’s sure you’d been made to feel that way as well. It was confusing. She should feel overjoyed at the misery of others. But seeing you by her side, being soaked head to toe by the rain, chilled to the bone? She was just as miserable as you.

     “I’m sorry.” She reiterates, knowing fully that you heard her the first time.

     “You don’t have to apologize-”

     “I do.” The words are biting, and that does stop you in your tracks, inadvertently stopping her as well. Wiping the rain from your eyes, you look down at your interconnected hands. This was the longest you had ever touched her. The longest she’d ever let you touch her. “I have been… Selfish, as of late. And for that, I apologize. I am single-minded, I put you in danger, and I…”

     You watch with a hitched breath as she avoids eye contact. This is difficult for her. Her shoulders are rigid, her mouth tense, and her hands twitching. The rain pelts down on you both, and you suddenly feel like you’re the main characters in a film.

     “I believe I’ve hurt you, so I’m sorry.”

     She looks terribly beautiful, hair sticking to her face in waves, her lips, and her nose the brightest red you’ve seen on her, doe eyes big with her eyeliner running from the rain. You simply squeeze her hand thrice. As unhealthy as it may sound, you had already forgiven her for anything she had done long ago- and you’d continue to do so, as long as she kept dragging you around with her hand in yours.

     “Thank you, Wednesday. I accept your apology.” And, again, you mean it. Pulling her a bit closer, just so your shoulders knock together, you begin your journey once again. “Now come on, I think we should both get dry before we die horrible deaths from contracting pneumonia.”

     “I believe we have conflicting ideas on what constitutes a “horrible death”.”

     “I’m sure we do, Wednesday.”

     You both gingerly sneak through the door and through the foyer, tracking mud on the carpet up the stairs. Wednesday makes you stop once you get to the top, and take off your shoes so you don’t track the mud back to the dorms- so Principle Weems doesn’t suspect you two. Though, you think it’s a lost cause because you’re both the number one suspects for anything slightly off that happens.

     Your dorm is closer, and quietly, in the early morning embers, you usher Wednesday into your room, locking the dorm behind you.

     The single dorm you resided in was smaller than the rest, the space easily filled up by your belongings. But you wouldn’t be caught dead asking to switch, you liked having your privacy- a rarity at a boarding school.

     Wednesday is already making herself at home, leaving her shoes at the door and shrugging off her coat and scarf. “You can shower first.”

     “Are you sure?” You ask, doing the same. Wordlessly, she takes your own jacket from your hands, spreading it on the floor next to hers. The space heater you have for nights like these is already cranked on high.

     “Yes,” Wednesday confirms, sitting down in front of the machine, “I just need some time to think.”

     “Alright, I’ll be quick.”

     You’re true to your word, grabbing your pajamas and heading to the bathroom. The shower feels nice on your frigid skin, and you make sure everything is still organized for when it’s Wednesday’s turn. An extra towel is left on the sink once you’re done. She’s sitting in the exact spot you’d left her, the lines troubling her forehead just as prominent. You search through the black clothes in your closet, pulling out a pair of sweats and a matching sweater with some socks, and tapping her shoulder. “Your turn,” You mumble, presenting your offering.

     Her fingers linger on yours, the shadows and movements emphasized by the low lights in your room. The clothes are held away from her still-wet body, and she gets up, closing the bathroom door behind her. As you hear the shower start again, you put your towel on the floor, mopping up any water that had dripped off of her.

     This evening hadn’t gone as you thought it would’ve. It was like that morality test, if an oncoming train had its brakes cut, and you had to choose between crushing six people or one, what would you choose? You, of course, were all seven people- you would die either way. That made Wednesday the train, didn’t it?

     Before you knew it, the door to your bathroom opened again, Wednesday stepped out in your clothes, using the towel you’d given her to scrunch the water out of the ends of her hair.

     Your mouth felt dry like you were at the dentist getting a tooth pulled, and they had to suction all the saliva from it.

     “Do you have a brush?” She asked. Getting up from your spot on the floor, you flitted around your desk, grabbing the one you’d left next to your vanity mirror. Holding it for a moment, you contemplated your next words.

     “Could I do it?”

     Time stood still in your dorm, fingers nervously pushing over the prongs on your brush as you awaited a response.

     Wednesday felt warm. Swallowing her tongue and sitting down on your bed, cross-legged. “You may.”

     Her hair was long and thick, pitch black as the night sky, and softer than anything you’d felt before. She smells faintly of your shampoo, and you find yourself light-headed as you gingerly rake your fingers through the ends of her hair, ridding it of any tangles. Starting at the ends, you slowly brush through the damp hair, working your way up. It’s longer than you had initially thought, undone of its iconic braided style.

     Wednesday felt nearly naked with her hair unstyled and wet in your hands. The brush working against her scalp treated her so tenderly. As if you would rather walk through the fires of hell than yank against a strand of her head. She licked her lips, eyes suddenly watery. She had forgotten what tenderness had felt like these past few years. She believed she didn’t need it. Maybe she was wrong.

     Using your nail to part her hair in two, you push both sections over her shoulders, and the bed creaks as you get off to sit in front of her.

     The girl who avoided your gaze when apologizing earlier is gone, and instead wholly intent on looking at you as you finger comb through the section of hair on her left shoulder. Deftly, you split it into another three, even sections, slowly beginning to put together her signature braids. Wednesday watches as your lashes flutter while you concentrate, enamored with how you lick your lips and twitch your nose. You’re engrossed in her. Sitting here in your clothes, letting you do her hair, she must be equally captivated.

     You get to the end of the first braid before you notice an issue. “I don’t have a tie,” You announce, pouting.

     “I left them in the bathroom,” Wednesday says, already getting up. But you stop her.

     “Wait-” And you're leaning over to your desk, rummaging through the top drawer. Pulling out two strands of black ribbon, you’re back in your spot in front of her. She’d seen them in your hair before. Setting one down in your lap, nimble fingers keep her braid in place while the other positions the ribbon. Soon enough, she had a perfect little bow tying the braid together. You start immediately on the next one.

     Wednesday Addams has bows in her hair.

     Once you’re confident they’re even, you lean back, eyes immediately shooting up to her neglected bangs. Taking the forgotten brush, you lean in. Much closer than necessary for the task, but instead of pushing you away, she tries to see if she can feel your breath. Rounding off her bangs, you discard the brush for a final time, hands coming up to finger curl the longer ends, framing the hollow of her cheeks perfectly. Your hands settle on the curves of her jaw.

     Her pupils are blown wide, eyes narrowed dangerously, and you feel like a meek hare in front of a desert viper. You’re sure her venom would sting, and you’d be happy to let it flow through you.

     She lets her fangs sink into you, pulling you in until her lips connect with yours. Unlike her demeanor, she was soft against you, hands coming up to the nape of your neck to keep your lips flush against hers. The warmth of your sweater and your hands and your lips are too much and not enough, and when you finally pull away to catch your breath- cheeks hot and eyes lidded- she finds you irrevocably adorable. She understands why Anaconda kill and eat their mate. If you don’t stop looking at her like that, you’ll undoubtedly meet the same demise. Wednesday finds herself pushing you down, pillows cushioning your fall as you lazily bring her back into your embrace.

     As the clocks crawl forward, you both stay the same, warm and flush against one another. And as the clock strikes 8:30am, you’re both broken from your reverie.

     “Good Morning everyone,” Principle Weems sounds from the intercom, “Due to the storm, faculty has made the decision to cancel classes and extracurricular activities for the remainder of the week. If the storm lets up, this schedule is subject to change. Stay dry everybody!”

     A bit late for that.

     “We’ll be staying here.” Wednesday decides for you both, already pulling you back in. You kiss against her jaw in agreement, fingers pulling apart the bows in her hair.

---

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed it, please consider reblogging, I'd really appreciate it! As always, my asks are always open to talk ^-^

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1CbNa8jneefleLKCK98HHC?si=1c7e5b671ae14e42

[writing-on-the-wahl]

Partner in Crime

For @thepenultimateword's Song-Story Writing Challenge Extravaganza

Song prompt submitted by @starry-night-author - I hope this does what you'd imagined justice!

(song info at the end, read the snippet first :)

Empty shadows and dim streetlights. 

A locked door and a pair of headlights. 

Henchman slid down further in the passenger seat of the dark sedan parked strategically across the street from her quarry as the pale lights pulled around the corner and the silence of the empty street was shattered. 

--already late, got to hurry. He might have already left and if I blow this job--

Crooked tires and a slamming door. 

--do I have all the supplies? Yes, you checked twice you numskull, the code, the code, don’t drop anything--

The figure fumbled over their bags until a single finger snaked out towards the shining metal buttons that stood out against the weathered side of the of the old brick mansion that took up half the block. 

--there we go, 64729, yes now the handle, no!--

A thick folder smacked against the ground, and the  crouched awkwardly with their laden arms to reclaim it, turning enough that the streetlight gleamed off the smooth cheeks of the fresh-faced hero. 

When the door finally slammed shut behind them, Henchman dropped her focus, and the chaotic thoughts faded into the quiet buzzing of a trapped fly. 

Four weeks of nightly surveillance, and she finally had the last code they needed. 

Her pen scratched across the inside of her wrist. 64729. 

As the minutes turned to hours, she let her eyes close and her mind wander. He wouldn’t want to wait, not with the XX approaching, Everything else was already in place. Tomorrow, the wait would be over. 

The sky was two shades lighter when the door finally opened again. 

The figure reimerged, hands empty, and darted to their car, head ducked and eyes scanning the shadows. 

The red tail lights were still visible when Henchman blinked, and he was beside her, the driver's door already clicking shut. 

His thoughts hummed, flying by like a bullet train, smooth and blurred like they always were. “You got it?” It was more a statement than a question, and Henchman pressed her lips together to keep from beaming at the unspoken praise. 

“I got it,” she confirmed, twisting her arm to show him the numbers on her wrist. 

This thoughts zoomed, as fast as he was, until the train slowed into a single track of a toy train running circles under a tree as he caught her hand and slowly kissed the inside of her wrist. 

Genius, brilliant talent, indispensable. 

Henchman was glad for the shadows that kept the heat in her cheeks hidden. 

When his mind raced, it was like a override channel, white noise she could focus on to tune out the chaos of the crowds around her. 

But she loved even more the rich texture of his mind when he slowed down and his thoughts turned to appreciation. His praises never failed to make her melt. 

“You’re incredible, H.” 

She barely stopped herself from responding with “No you are.” It would have been too corny, and unnecessary. Villain was a genius, and he knew it. 

His thoughts picked up again, flying by but at a pace she could follow. A silver keypad, a brick hallway, a gleaming brass safe. His forehead brushed her as his thoughts slowed to a stop as the safe swung open and revealed their treasure. 

She looked into his dark scheming eyes, so close to hers. 

“Tomorrow?” 

Villain smiled the wicked smile she loved so much, and, in her mind, he leaned forward an inch until their lips finally met. 

He sat back into his seat, already running through the plan again. 

“Tomorrow.” 

-------

Hurry, hurry we’re going to be late!

Two cappuccinos, one americano, one diet americano, three blacks, two chai-- no three? Was it two? Mia, Thomas, Mindy? Did she have one?? Who am I missing-- 

Four blocks down and take a left--

I should have picked the black shoes, I can already feel the blisters forming. 

Can I just quit and sell books online? I don’t want to people today… 

Get out of the way you moron it looks like rain twelve dozen is not enough cute dog there she is I want oh sorry they’re calling again now please sweaters work open mine stopmyturnclosebootslatepeopleparkwalkinggo--

“Henchman.”

Large hands dropped on her shoulders, and the flood of voices disappeared as the purring hum of thoughts wrapped around her. 

Villain slid one hand down her shaking arms to grasp her hand. 

“Henchman.” 

At the second time, she looked up at him. 

“You can do this. Twenty minutes and we will be back at base.” 

Base. Headquarters. Safety. Home. 

The sanctuary Villain had made for her where no other minds could drown out her own. 

Henchman turned back to the street crowded with light and people. So different from its quiet shadows of the night. 

“Henchman.” 

She pulled her eyes back to Villain. “Six minutes of focus, and then it will be over.” His hand on her shoulder tightened. “Six minutes, just like we practiced.” 

She forced a swallow and a nod. 

His mind ran through the plan once more, and she did her best to follow as the voices pressed against her. 

When Villain was satisfied she wasn’t going to fall apart, he released her and stepped back. 

“We’ll just walk down the street like a happy couple and slip inside.” 

The nod came easier this time. It was an image she often pictured. 

The hand that was still wrapped around hers shifted until their fingers were intertwined, and her heart stuttered as he pulled her out of the alley and into the stream of pedestrians. 

The warmth of it occupied her mind until Villain pulled her to an abrupt halt and before she’d registered they’d stopped, the door was open and they were slipping into the narrow brick hallway. 

Henchman lost track of the turns as Villain pulled her through the labyrinth of hallways. 

Using the humming of his thoughts as a buffer as she used her powers to avoid guards and patrons as he dragged her through the repurposed mansion. 

Three minutes and fourth two seconds since they left the safety of the alley, they came to a stop in front of a wide mahogany door. 

Villain picked the lock in the blink of an eye. His hand on the handle, he turned back to her. 

Henchman shook her head. 

No minds were present behind that door. 

The safe was covered by the painting behind the desk. A cheap imitation of a Monet that was worth less than the gaudy frame that held it. 

Henchman dropped into the leather desk chair with a sigh of relief as Villain went to work at the safe.

The whirring of the safe handle was the only sound as Henchman shuffled through the desk drawers, pocketing a golden hilted letter opener and a ruby crusted pennant ring. 

Leaning back in the chair, she enjoyed the pillowing cushion of silence that eased the pounding headache that was building behind her eyes. 

Through the window she heard a dog barking and the distant echo of a siren. 

Henchman sat up with a jolt as the final tumbler dropped into place and the door to the safe creaked open. 

“Wait!” 

A cloud of mist exploded from the safe; her warning too little, too late. 

Henchman doubled over as the tear gas burned her eyes. The door they’d closed behind them slammed open, and the flood of mind-voices returned like a tidal wave. 

A room that blocked out the thoughts of others. Oh how foolish she’d been. Villain had created for her just such a space. 

The voices crested with the throbbing in her head that had returned tenfold.  

The loudest of the voices was filled with derision. 

“Did you really think we were such fools?” 

A hand on her shoulder. 

She ignored the judgment in the hero’s question and looked up at her partner in crime. His eyes were creased with regret. 

Villain. 

It was as if he was the one reading her mind this time. 

His thoughts were a jumbled mess. A ten lane freeway rather than a bullet train. 

Analyzing all the possibilities. 

But Henchman already knew the answer. 

He’d come back for her. 

She lifted her hand to his on her shoulder. 

“Run.”

The song for this prompt was Partner in Crime by Madilyn Mai

Taglist:

@im-a-wonderling @shieldmaiden-of-gondor @watercolorfreckles @distance-does-not-matter @onestopheroxvillain @lolafaiy @chaoticgoodandi @1becky1 @tobeornottobeateacher @himynameisorla @superherosweet @brekker-by-brekkerr @crazytwentythrees @great-day-today @sunflower1000@selectivegeekwithstandards @chibicelloking @trantolette @sapphiques @jinpanman @genesissane @wish1bone1 @amongtheonedaisy @distractedlydistracted @kitsunesakii @glitterythief @jinx1365 @cherrychewingbrat @in-patient-princess @thepenultimateword @sorrow-and-bliss @technikerin23 @deflated-bouncingball @talesofurbania1 @rivalriotrenegade @valiantlytransparentwhispers

[thetrashbinseries]

— Fahrenheit ( bangchan x reader )

rated - mature | minors dni

parts - one, two (explicit)

warnings - idol universe, name changed idols, mature themes, drug use, alcohol use, sexual themes, mentions of mental illness, slight angst

x x x

“It’s not rocket science, Chris."

My annoyance hits the roof. What the hell is his problem? Why's he turning this into a damn soap opera?

"You're back in LA. New York—yes or no?"

Chris tiptoes the line ever since last year's scandal close shave. I get playing it safe, but I'm alone in a six-bedroom Jersey fortress. In the U.S. media game, I'm golden. No cancel threats, not yet in my rising career.

But the spotlight got hotter after the last single went viral. Chris, in the crosshairs of relentless management, dances a careful routine.

He's the big shot, leader of the world's hottest K-pop group. His company would shoot themselves in the foot by axing him. Yet, Mr. Libra doesn't dig rocking the boat.

"-I want to, babe, but it's too risky right now."

I sigh. Twisting my computer chair, neon lights bathe me in purples and reds. I'm in the studio, bullshitting on songs for the third album.

I've had it. "Catch you later, Chris." The call drops, facedown on the desk, anger swirling.

"Seriously, fuck you." I spit out, taking it personally.

Being a foreigner feels like the snag. His industry would call me a disgrace tagging along.

I don't need that energy.

Am I settling as his 'little secret'? I'm 29, he's 27 – grown folks. Pings remind me of him, but I silence the noise. Facetime interrupts, Jake, the friend with benefits. Games or busy, no time for emotional plays.

Warner signed my band, deep in commitments, mind racing. A shrink's gift? Adderall for my ADHD.

Now, even less time for the BS.

"Hey, daddy." I purr, thickening my accent.

Jake’s smile fades as he eyes me. "What?" I giggle,

"Stop playing with me like that, y/n."

"How am I playing with you?"

"You're gonna end up with your legs cocked back like last time, girl, cool it."

Laughter ensues. I glimpse his background – a parking garage stairwell. We catch up every couple of weeks via Facetime.

"Where are you at?" I squint.

"Recognize it?" Jake turns his phone, revealing the New York City skyline.

"You're out here? Aw, shit." I lean back in my chair, a half-cocked grin, tongue behind my lower lip.

"Aw, shit is right! What's up? What are you up to tonight?"

I chuckle, rolling my eyes. "Nah, uh, Jake. We gotta play nice. I got a good thing going on right now."

He sighs, exasperation audible. "You two still a thing? Thought you were photographed over there, outside the JYPE building?"

"I was."

"They ain't letting that fly, you serious, y/n?"

"I mean, they're being hard on him, but we're still trying to make it work." I express more hope than Chris does. Jake’s viewpoint is valid – he's been through the K-pop circuit, burned out, went solo, and found massive international success.

Which is why he bitches about it.

It's unfair.

"I do wanna see you, though," I admit, the need for an adventure kicking in.

"That's my girl. Hey, I'm about to hop in the car. Should be able to make it over in twenty. You at your spot in Jersey?"

"Yes, I am, Jake, but don't come in on no bullshit."

"I'm always on bullshit. See you in twenty."

Jake hangs up before I can fight back.

Why is my grin so wide? I roll my eyes at my own excitement, surprised at how genuinely thrilled I am to be around someone who wants to be with me. Scanning Chris's messages puts me in a better mood.

babydaddy: there’s no way you just hung up like that -_-

babydaddy: this is my life…my career…

babydaddy: why can't you be more patient?? this is hard for me too…

babydaddy: we need to talk tomorrow…

babydaddy: about us, and where this is going.

The last message triggers something in me. My stomach twists like it always does before bad news. It doesn't change, whether in poverty in my hometown or a small Jersey mansion. The same sunken gut reaction. We've been going back and forth, but this sounds... final. At some point, he'll grow sick of it. I know I have.

Yet, there's so much I love about Chris. Selfishly, I don't want him with anyone else. He's the man of my dreams, flawed as he is, he’s human. My human. I panic, feeling like my boat has sprung a leak, desperate to plug it somehow.

Knowing myself, I turn my phone upside down, placing it on my desk and stand up, distancing myself from the setting. Something else would trap me; all I want is not to reply to him with charged emotion. It wouldn't help anything.

Jake’s on his way over.

I take a deep breath, letting my anxiety settle. I'll talk to him; he always has good insight and wisdom beyond his years. I look at myself in the mirror. I'm in comfy mode, barefoot, walking across hardwood floors.

Entering the dimly lit kitchen, I brew hot chocolate, curling my toes against the balls of my feet, cracking knuckles as I chew my lower lip, mind drifting to Chris. Resistance is weaker now; the reasons to text back sound more convincing. I shake my head, trying to clear my mind, grab my cup, and sip as I walk past my bearded dragon's tank. It's late; he's asleep, tucked into his pink bed. I stare at each plant, trying to keep my thoughts in check.

My outdoor motion detection buzzes the smartwatch on my wrist, signaling someone's arrival. I glimpse headlights through my foyer. My grin widens; I bite my lip, urging myself to behave.

"Alexa, shuffle my evening playlist on Spotify, downstairs."

The nearest speaker obeys, filling the space with music. My dog scurries around my feet as the doorbell rings, and my bigger dog's deep barks echo throughout the house.

“Hey, cool it!" I shout at them, stepping over the little one weaving through my legs, nipping my ankles for some ungodly reason. I open the door, visibly exasperated, while my larger dog bellows from the top of the stairs.

Jake points to her behind me, furrowing his brows dramatically. "I thought we were friends!"

My dog hurls another final, loud bark before slowly making her way down the stairs. I let Jake in, lock the door, and he takes off his shoes, grabbing a disposable guest pair from the basket by the front door. I turn, starting down the hall, and Jake’s full body weight slams into me from behind, arms wrapping around my body, causing me to stumble. Seemingly unpredictably, he stops us from falling while laughing. I catch my footing, give him a firm shove, swipe stray hair behind my ear, and correct the other side, giving him a side-eye.

"Now, you know damn well I'm too clumsy for some stupid shit like that," I scoff, turning into the living room. I walk over to the glass coffee table near the sofa, grab the nearby gold electric candle lighter, tip it into the wide, three-wick candle, and light each of their blackened tips. The scents of apple-cinnamon, cedar, sandalwood, and vanilla fill the room, complemented by the warm orange glow of well-placed LED lights. I sit on the edge of the sofa, and Jake takes his favorite spot on the oversized black beanbag chair nearby. He pulls his hood off, followed by his knitted beanie, ruffling his dark brown hair.

I've got to say, Jake is a handsome guy, no doubt about it.

But I've got problems, and I've caught heavy feelings for one of my biggest headaches lately—Christopher Bang.

We're in this so deep, at least on my end.

I start to think a little harder, trying to see beyond the rose colored glasses for a moment. His text plays through my head as I scroll on my phone, my excuse being searching for another song to skip to on Spotify. But, of course, I get back to the messages Chris sent earlier.

"About us, and where this is going…"

We'd never had an official conversation about being exclusive. We met by chance, fell for each other, and started sneaking around together. I consider Chris my boyfriend, and I’m saved in his phone under ‘baby.' That's got to mean something, right?

The horror begins to set in—has this been a situationship this whole time? Is that why he never went public?

Anxiety creeps in.

"Yo," Jake snaps his fingers, waving his fingers. Damn, I must've been really distracted, crinkled brows as I stare into my phone, thumb tapping against the glass but not doing anything. I look up at him, raising my brows as if I had just briefly missed something he recently said.

"Hm?" I ask.

He's sitting up more, his left hand stroking one of my cats. "Talk to me, girl," he gestures to the marble ashtray with half of a joint, "And pass it."

I lean forward, grabbing the pink joint and placing it between my lips. I use the lighter nearby, sparking it, blowing a few times, the smoke thick and pungent, rising into the air. I tap it into the ashtray and lean over, passing it his way. Jake takes it graciously, placing it between the center of his pink lips and taking a big inhale. He holds it in, nodding, looking down at it as he blows the smoke out the side of his mouth.

"Chris and I got into it again. He told me they were coming to LA for a show over at KCON, and he was like 'maybe I can fly over to see you,' trying to fit it in, delaying his trip to Korea by like three days, which didn’t seem like a big deal. But then after everything ended, he was just hyper-aware of the attention on them and changed his mind," I begin to explain. Jake has taken a few hits during my story; he's leaning forward, passing me the joint again. I take it, hitting it.

"Did he say why?" he asks. Jake’s voice is low, even-toned. He’s invested in my story and the way I’m feeling, I can tell by the way his laser focus is on me as I speak. His eye contact is intense, fiery, the Aries in him.

"No, he didn’t, and that’s what frustrated me, so we got on a call tonight. He like—called me and was dancing around it, and I was like 'look, it’s not hard, are you coming to New York or not.' I was just... over it," I reply, pausing to take another hit before passing it to Jake once more. "He was all 'I want to, baby, but it's too risky.'” I mock his Aussie accent, and Jake can’t help the cough of smoke that comes out from trying to repress a laugh. He turns his head, full-on coughing a couple of times before he catches his breath again.

"Do you need water?" I ask, successfully holding back my own laugh. I don’t wait for his reply, instead, standing up and taking a few steps over to the mini-fridge and grabbing a bottle of spring water, handing it to him.

Plopping back down on the couch, I sigh. "So I didn’t even let him get the rest of it out. I was like 'ok, I’ll talk to you later' and like, hung up."

Jake places the burnt-out joint tip into the tray, effectively ending our puff-puff-pass session, making us both more relaxed and a little spacey. "Oof, y/n, this is... such a unique situation that very few people go through, and even fewer non-K-idols. I mean, I don’t agree with any of it, right? But it’s not me, and Chan, he’s in like–the peak of their career as a boy group, dude." Jake shakes his head, sitting back, my cat jumping from his lap, considering him having moved too much for his comfort.

"I don’t—care," I blurt.

Jake’s head drops back with a sigh before he picks it up again. "That’s probably part of the problem. Chan’s risking his career; Korea is no joke when it comes to this shit. I promise you, unless you’re physically in the industry as an idol over there, you have no idea. It’s so obsessive, and these companies, the management, they will not let you breathe, and the bigger you are—the tighter they hold onto you because there’s so much more to lose at that point."

He only leaves a half second of pause before he says, "I don’t think you’re compatible with—nor do you deserve, that kind of relationship with anyone."

Ouch.

It hurts that much more because—he’s right

"Now that doesn’t make Chan a bad person, or you a weak person. He’s got a right to this life he’s worked super hard to get to, and you’ve got a right to someone to love you the way you want to be loved, especially while you’re in the beginning stage of becoming great yourself. It’s a huge distraction—maybe not a relationship, but like, that kind of relationship."

I can do nothing but sigh, throwing my hands up and sitting back onto the couch, feeling, well, defeated. Can you blame me? It fucking sucks, the reality of it all that I was trying to avoid.

"Fuck," I finally say aloud.

Jake’s looking at me; I know he feels bad for breaking it down so plain, but he does it because he cares about me and wants the best for me, and I know that. “You still do what you want; it’s your life. Whatever you two decide is what you two decide, but that’s just—my limited experience.”

I scoff with a roll of my eyes, “Limited experience. Yeah ok.”

He laughs.

We both understand the subtext of the brief exchange.

“He says we need to talk tomorrow, about us and ‘where this is going’,” I say with air quotes.

“I mean, hey, it’s an opportunity to get your concerns out there, listen to his, and decide what’s best for you. He’ll decide what’s best for him. If that’s being together, great, if not, great. Either way, you’ll be ok. That’s how I like to see these kinds of things.” Jake says, his words profound and his perspective valuable to me. He leans forward, “We’ve known each other like what? Almost a year now?” I nod to confirm, and he continues, “In that short period of time, I can just—tell that you’re a strong person; you wouldn’t have gotten this far if you weren’t. If you ever need someone to talk to, my line is always open.”

I let another long breath go before laying across the sofa on my stomach, bringing myself closer to Jake as I lazily hug a pillow, resting my chin atop it. His advice is logged in my thoughts. I really don’t want to talk about it anymore—the way he phrased it did something to lower my anxiety so I was going to let sleeping dogs lie. “What about you, huh? What’s got you on the East Coast? You’re never over here, rarely in America anymore for real.”

“Yeah, I’ve been—busy, but it’s a blessing, you know? I’m so grateful that so many people support me, as a solo artist, doing my own thing, my way.” Jake never fails to acknowledge those around him that have supported him, and keeps himself grounded and humble somehow through being an international celebrity. “But I was at the Versace show over in Soho. I’ve got a couple of other shows to see for New York Fashion Week, but I touched down and had to come see you.”

I lift a brow. “I’m not gonna fuck you, Jake.”

Without hesitation, he fires back, “I’m not asking you to, y/n.”

It’s enough to drag a snort from me.

He laughs, “The hotels get lonely, and most places I go, I don’t know anyone. I like it here; you’ve done a lot since the last time I was here.” Jake looks around at the decor. He points to a painting of a cat skeleton on a black canvas. “That’s new, I like it.” He says.

“Yeah? I do too; it’s simple but it matches the vibe of the space, I found it by accident one day.”

When Jake says the hotels are lonely, I believe him. He often confides in me about how lonely his lifestyle can be and how it can drive him so crazy that he’ll call everyone through his phone until someone answers, and when that person hangs up, he’ll keep going. More often than not, he doesn’t have anyone to call, despite my insisting that I was an option. Some nights, when it gets really bad, he’ll have a tendency towards drinking, which is something I don’t like, and we’ve talked about ad nauseam. Of course, he’s always welcome in my safe spaces.

“So what’s new with the band? When you texted me the other day, you had like, tons of shit going on that you were freaking out about.” Jake cracks open the bottle of water, taking a gulp.

“I’m flying out to LA next week for a couple of events, but we’re like focused on album three right now; I’ve been locked in the studio just writing.”

“Ok, ok, you got anything for me to hear yet?” He seems to perk up to ask this question.

“Eh, nothing I’m ready to show or anything, just fragments of songs right now. The label is really pushing the work we did with album two to build the hype up for album three, and that’s the one they funded.” I kick my feet slowly in the air behind me as I talk.

“We should do a song together.” Jake says, quite suddenly. He can tell I’m taken aback. I mean, creatively, Jake and I get along great, but we had never discussed merging on a record before. “An official song, I think it could sound incredible.”

I immediately want to agree, of course, but I have a couple of hurdles I know I need to jump now that I’ve gotten to this point in my career. I hated that. I used to be able to agree to a collaboration immediately. But Jake had even more hoops to jump through; he couldn’t commit to something official now either.

So why was he proposing it?

“I gotta ask the label—”

“Fuck the label, dude.” Jake waves his hand, “They don’t have to know anything, not yet. We’ll just work together and see what happens. Whaddya say?”

It takes no thought for me to reply,

“Let’s do it.”

—

Jake wore me down enough to bring him down into the studio, insisting he didn't have anything important to do until tomorrow evening. I don't want to encourage his drinking, but when he spots the whiskey decanter, he gestures to it as I sit down in the main chair in front of the soundboard.

"What’s in there? Hennessy?" He answers his own question as I spin around in the chair to see what he’s talking about. He’s already over at the mini bar, opening it up and whiffing.

"Yeah, but I rarely drink it. I got it for guests." I turn towards my soundboard again, powering it up and waiting for the two large screens to load. I add another thought to the end of my sentence, albeit, to myself. Not like I have guests anyway.

Jake comes over with a glass, the brown liquor sloshing around as he tilts it in my direction. I roll my eyes, taking it, and he’s already got his glass, which he holds out for a toast.

"To the music," Jake says.

"The music." I oblige, clinking his glass and taking my gulp down a lot less gracefully than he does his, before he pours up another for himself. "Don’t overdo it; you’re gonna have a nasty hangover, and I won’t be the one to blame for it." I press a few buttons, and the house lights lower, back to the blue and purple hue I was sitting in earlier.

"I am a grown man that knows my limits." Jake states, matter-of-factly. He sits in the rolling chair at the table alongside me, pulling himself up to the soundboard and sitting back in his chair, sipping his drink as his eyes dance across the screens while I click around, pulling up my digital audio workstation of choice.

I point to the keyboard nearest to him, "Press a key for me?" He does, confirming it's connected and functional, the note ringing out through the monitors.

"Aw yeah." Jake sits up, setting his glass down on the designated cupholder space on the edge of the mixing table as he places both hands on the keys, beginning to fiddle with the limited random keys and chords he had learned how to play while being forced to learn as a trainee. "Damn, it’s been so long." He says, a half smile on his face. I can tell he’s reminiscing, I just can’t tell if it’s good or bad. "You’re so lucky to have control over your music, you know that?" He says, looking over at me before focusing back on the instrument again, slender fingers of his right hand climbing up the keys.

"I don’t really have total control, not anymore. Not sure I ever did." I say with a sigh. "It’s always been like—an Eli and me thing, not just a ‘me’ thing. I just get a little more attention because I’m the one out front, singing." I continue to explain. Jake’s stopped playing, instead choosing to lean in his chair and eye me over the top of his glass as he sips, listening to me with an empathetic nod. "Now with a major label involved, there are so many other factors now."

"You get the final say though, right?"

"Well, yeah, I guess I do." I say with uncertainty, not because it isn’t true, but because it still feels like the decisions I make have to be based on what everyone else thinks is best for us. If I vehemently object, I’m persuaded down to the decisions of others. Sometimes, it feels like I’m being gaslit. But I don’t have much time to ruminate on that, since everything is moving forward at top speed.

"Guess it’s complicated?" Jake concedes.

I nod.

"Girl, you got it," Jake croons in his gruff voice, eyes closed, fingers snapping to start a rhythm. "And I know it, baby, why don’t you?”

I nod, sliding him away from the keys as I hit some chords to match his singing. Unsure if it's a freestyle or something pre-written, I catch the composition unfolding. Music flows through me effortlessly—my natural talent that's brought me this far. It didn't happen overnight, but creating is the part of music that feels like pure joy, a distraction from all the BS.

Soon, we're vibing out a hook, laughing for hours, blending funk with '90s groove, a nostalgic fusion. My phone rings, freezing me in place. The weight of unresolved problems crashes over me. Jake senses it; I bolt before he protests. His eyes speak understanding; he knows when to let me deal with my demons. I answer the phone, attempting to steady my voice.

“Hello?”

“You answered.”

It’s Chris.

His voice is tired, ironic, as if he couldn’t believe it himself but didn’t care.

It irritates me. Why call back so soon if compromise isn't on the table?

“I just called to say, that I’ll be there in about four hours.”

A lump forms in my throat; I glance around for a clock. Holed up in the studio with Jake, time escaped me.

“But you said—“

‘First class, you are now welcome to pre-board flight 917 to Newark, First class, you are now welcome to pre-board flight 917 to Newark.’

“I gotta go, but I’ll see you in a few, yeah?”

“Y-yeah.”

The phone beeps, leaving me in stunned silence. The studio's muted song hums in the background. I'm not ready to face it yet, still figuring out what this sudden visit means.

“Said I wouldn’t do this.” I mutter, pressing my fists against my forehead, heaving a frustrated sigh. I vowed not to let another man stir my emotions, yet here I am—almost having a meltdown. But my feelings are valid. No explanation after a heated argument, and suddenly he's on his way here?

Maybe he got another perspective from the members or his friends. Maybe he thought about it. Either way, he'll be here in four hours. We can hash it out then.

I muster the calm to return to the studio. Jake sits back, his chair turning towards me. “Well?”

I plop onto the nearby sofa. “He’s boarding a flight here now, said he’ll be here in four hours.”

Jake’s brows lift in surprise. “See? I told you…this was going to push you two in some direction it needed to go. Four hours? My man, okay BangChan!” Jake laughs, toasting with his glass. “So I added some drums, check it out.” He plays the track; the groove multiplies.

“You added that part too?” I notice another musical flair, and he nods proudly. After a few seconds, he turns it off, a slow fade of the volume knob.

“I think that’s enough for me to work with for now, what do you think?”

"The skeleton is definitely there, but what about more instruments?" I question. Jake pushes his chair back, picks up his hoodie, slipping it on as he stands up.

“It’s enough to write to; we can come back to it; if Chan’s on his way here, the last thing he needs is to see another guy here late night.” He slips on his shades, his phone reflected in them as he orders an Uber Black. I didn't think he cared like this, feeling closer to him; he did what he felt was best. I was freaking out about how to get him out in time, and Jake took the initiative.

A relieved sigh escapes me. “I owe you.”

“Absolutely nothing. You don’t owe me anything, sweetheart. I had a good time here tonight.” He tucks his phone in his jacket pocket. “Twelve minutes.”

I nod. “Follow me upstairs, I made some cookies yesterday; you can take some with you.”

“Ooh what kind?”

“Chocolate chip.”

“A classic.”

[xxlady-lunaxx]

I thought you loved me | {SaneGiyuu/SaneKana}

pt.2 | pt.3

Theme: Slight Fluff+Slight Angst, idk anymore

Note: I based this on some tiktoks I saw :>

×××

His arm hooked around Giyuu's shoulders, his scarred face close to the Water Hashira's as he leaned towards him, resting his head on the other's shoulder.

"...Shinazugawa?" Giyuu mumbled, after a moment of silence.

"Mm?" Sanemi glanced at him, moving his position to look at Giyuu.

"I... Will you meet me here again? Tomorrow?" Giyuu asked nervously. His gaze flickered to Sanemi's hand which rested on his own. 

"Mm, alright," Sanemi (I wrote Sanmi ;-;) said, nodding. 

In front of them, the water fountain seemed to flow a bit higher, matching Giyuu's emotions as he found himself nuzzling closer to the Wind Hashira.

They sat like this for a long moment, the only sound being the water and their breathing in silence.

Eventually, Sanemi moved away. "I've got to go," he said, much to Giyuu's disappointment.

The two stood.

"See you tomorrow?" Giyuu asked, a bit hesitantly.

Sanemi kissed him in response, sending butterflies scattering in Giyuu's stomach.

"Tomorrow," Sanemi agreed, retreating. 

Giyuu stared after him as he left, a small smile forming on his mouth.

×××

"I love you, Sanemi." 

Sanemi smiled. "You always had a way with words, Kanae."

"It's not a way of words," she said, laughing. "I'm simply telling you that I love you."

"Hm, then perhaps your tone. Gives me butterflies," Sanemi teased, resting his forehead on hers.

"If I have a way with words, yours is probably through physical affection," Kanae decided, a hand tracing the scars on Sanemi's chest. (headcanon's 🤩)

"Is it, now?" he asked, kissing her gently.

She smiled at him. "Yes."

They were there at the park. The one with the bench sitting across from a water fountain.

Behind them, somewhere in the bushes, Giyuu sat with his head curled to his chest, his arms wrapped around himself as he wished he could get up and leave. But he couldn't, they would hear him. Know he had been here the whole time.

His body shook, not from the cold but from the shaky breaths he was trying not to take as he felt himself almost fall into a pit of misery, his body sagging under the weight of an invisible force.

It felt like hours but was probably only minutes before Kanae and Sanemi left, most likely hand in hand. 

Giyuu sat there, without moving, for a full minute after they left, his mind racing.

And then he stood, quickly brushing off the leaves and dirt off of him, before turning and walking promptly out of the park, in the opposite direction the other two had.

He didn't know where he was going but eventually found himself wandering to the Butterfly mansion.

His chest seemed to tighten at the thought of Kanae being there—though he knew she wouldn't know about this. She would never let it happen. Right?

Before he could leave, the door opened and Kanae's younger sister—Shinobu, who helped the injured often when she wasn't on missions—stepped out.

"Tomioka?" she said curiously, quirking a questioning eyebrow in his direction.

"Uhm. Kocho. Hi," he said awkwardly, shifting. 

"Hello, do you need something?" she asked, walking towards him.

"No, uhm, I was just walking," he said.

"Oh, well Aoi just made lunch and we have extra, want any?" she offered, giving him a gentle smile.

"No, it's okay, I-" 

Before he could comprehend what was happening, Shinobu was pushing him inside, closing the door behind him.

Giyuu found himself at a table, eating with Shinobu, Aoi, and three little girls. He blinked, staring at the chopsticks that had been forced into his hand. 

What... was he doing here.

"Hm, you look troubled," Shinobu noted, starting to eat.

The other girls gave a murmur of agreement, glancing up at him.

"Oh."

"You're a Hashira so you probably have a lot to be troubled about. Oh! Speaking of Hashira, have you seen Kanae recently? I was looking for her but she didn't come home for lunch; thus, the extra," she said, motioning to his bowl.

"Right." Giyuu messed with the idea of pretending he hadn't seen her but decided that was being petty and sighed. "Yes. She was... with Shinazugawa. At this one park? With... a water fountain. I, uhm, passed by it on my way here and saw them."

"Oh, alright," Shinobu said. "Why don't you eat?"

"Right," Giyuu repeated, quickly starting to eat, not wanting to seem ungrateful.

"Are Kanae and Shinazugawa dating?" Aoi asked, after a beat of silence.

Giyuu waited, listening carefully. 

"I would assume so. I don't know why Nee-san picked such a moron to date, though. I don't like Shinazugawa," Shinobu said, sighing.

One of the little girls laughed.

"Why not?" Giyuu asked, interested. 

"Because he's arrogant. I can't figure him out. Sometimes, he seems like the type to be loyal, sometimes he seems like he's gay," Shinobu said, rolling her eyes. 

Giyuu flinched. "Oh?" 

"Mhm." She twirled her hair around the top end of her chopstick for a moment, then looked up. "You flinched when I said that. Do you know anything?" 

Giyuu averted his eyes. Fuck, he was bad at acting. "Uhm. No. Thanks for the food," he said, lifting the bowl to his lips and drinking the rest of the soup quickly. "I'll be off now." 

"Answer my question!!" Shinobu complained. 

"He probably has training or something, he's also a Hashira, remember?" Aoi said.

Giyuu gave them a nod of his head quickly, then left, his movements stiff. 

Once he was out, he let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. Then instantly wished he hadn't relaxed when he saw Sanemi and Kanae walking up to the house, Sanemi's arm linked around Kanae's waist comfortably.

Giyuu froze and Sanemi's eyes met his. For half a second, they stared at each other, Sanemi's expression hardening for a beat before Kanae smiled and Giyuu broke their eye contact.

"Hello, Tomioka! I didn't think you'd be here?" she said. 

"Yes, uhm, Ko... Shinobu told me there was extra food and forced—I mean offered—for me to have some," Giyuu explained, his gaze set on the ground. He could feel the other two Hashira's eyes on him as he talked and he inched cautiously to the path, trying to escape. 

"Oh! You've eaten already, then?" Kanae asked. 

"Yes."

"Why don't you stay? You look tired, you can rest here," she said, smiling as she and Sanemi walked up to the door.

Giyuu went to shake his head but his eye caught Sanemi's calculating gaze and he was suddenly unable to speak, unsure what he should feel.

Kanae ushered him and Sanemi inside, closing the door behind her. (do you get deja vú :3)

Inside, Kanae told Giyuu he could rest in one of the guest rooms, instructing Sanemi to lead him there.

Then she left to go to her sister, leaving the two Hashira alone.

"Uhm. Shinazugawa," Giyuu said, shifting uncomfortably. 

Sanemi ignored him, walking through the halls where Giyuu presumed was the room he was meant to sleep in.

"Your room," Sanemi said, comfirming Giyuu's presumption as he pointed to a door at the end of the next hall.

"Shinazugawa?" 

"What?" Sanemi's eyes flicked over Giyuu, as if reading him.

"You're... dating Ko- Kanae?" Giyuu asked quietly.

"And?"

"Con...grats, then," he murmured.

"The hell?" Sanemi raised an eyebrow and stared at him for a second then rolled his eyes and turned away.

As he started to leave, Giyuu watched him carefully.

It didn't seem like Kanae and Sanemi had just recently started dating. Which would mean Giyuu had kissed Sanemi—no, Sanemi had kissed Giyuu—when he'd been in a relationship. When he was.

Fuck, why had Giyuu thought he had had a chance anyways? And why the hell had Sanemi done that?

{Word count: 1380}

Randomly ends bc i'm too lazy to finish it 🤩

[asterixlabs]

Best of Asterix Seeding/Interest Polls

Seeding/Interest Polls will be going live tomorrow March 14th at 6AM EST! On each poll will be open for a week where you rate the album/movie/series out of 5 based on how much you like it. At the end of the polling period I'll seed them based on the total number of points (those with higher points will seed better). Any ties will be broken based on my original judgement on how I think they'll perform.

As a note, this blog will be posting polls for quite some time going forward. If you aren't interested in this tournament, please mute the #best of asterix tag.

The list of the different options to vote for is below, I'll attach links to their interest polls once they go live (not in seeding order)!

Mainline comics:

Asterix the Gaul (BD)

Asterix and the Golden Sickle (BD)

Asterix and the Goths (BD)

Asterix the Gladiator (BD)

Asterix and the Banquet (BD)

Asterix and Cleopatra (BD)

Asterix and the Big Fight (BD)

Asterix in Britain (BD)

Asterix and the Normans (BD)

Asterix the Legionary (BD)

Asterix and the Chieftain's Shield (BD)

Asterix at the Olympic Games (BD)

Asterix and the Cauldron (BD)

Asterix in Spain (BD)

Asterix and the Roman Agent (BD)

Asterix in Switzerland (BD)

The Mansions of the Gods (BD)

Asterix and the Laurel Wreath (BD)

Asterix and the Soothsayer (BD)

Asterix in Corsica (BD)

Asterix and Caesar's Gift (BD)

Asterix and the Great Crossing (BD)

Obelix and Co. (BD)

Asterix in Belgium (BD)

Asterix and the Great Divide (BD)

Asterix and the Black Gold (BD)

Asterix and Son (BD)

Asterix and the Magic Carpet (BD)

Asterix and the Secret Weapon (BD)

Asterix and Obelix All at Sea (BD)

Asterix and the Actress (BD)

Asterix and the Class Act (BD)

Asterix and the Falling Sky (BD)

Asterix and Obelix's Birthday: The Golden Book (BD)

Asterix and the Picts (BD)

Asterix and the Missing Scroll (BD)

Asterix and the Chariot Race (BD)

Asterix and the Chieftain's Daughter (BD)

Asterix and the Griffin (BD)

Asterix and the White Iris (BD)

Movies, picture books, and spinoffs:

How Obelix Fell into the Magic Potion When he was a Little Boy (picture book)

Deux Romains en Gaule (movie)

Asterix the Gaul (animated movie)

Asterix and Cleopatra (animated movie)

The Twelve Tasks of Asterix (animated movie)

Asterix Versus Caesar (animated movie)

Asterix in Britain (animated movie)

Asterix and the Big Fight (animated movie)

Asterix Conquers America (animated movie)

Asterix and Obelix vs. Caesar (live action movie)

Asterix & Obelix: Mission Cleopatra (live cation movie)

Asterix and the Vikings (animated movie)

Asterix at the Olympic Games (live action movie)

Asterix and Obelix: God Save Britannia (live action movie)

Asterix: The Mansions of the Gods (animated movie)

Asterix: The Secret of the Magic Potion (animated movie)

Asterix & Obelix: The Middle Kingdom (live action movie)

Dogmatix & the Indomitables (cartoon series)

Adventures of Dogmatix (picture book series)

Idéfix et les Irréductibles: Pas de quartier pour le latin! (BD)

Idéfix et les Irréductibles: Les Romains se prennent une gamelle! (BD)

Idéfix et les Irréductibles: Ça balance pas mal à Lutèce! (BD)

Idéfix et les Irréductibles: Les irréductibles font leur cirque (BD)

Idéfix et les Irréductibles: Idéfix et le druide (BD)

[dollyyun]

𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬 | 09

SYPNOSIS: wherein Hwang Stella's life is tangled in a predicament involving her clandestine identity as a racer, her seemingly daily life as the official heir to the Hwang Empire, and seven guys with whom she has a complex history with. PAIRING: non!idols enhypen members x fem!oc. GENRE: 18+ (mdni), reverse harem, chaebols, semi-college, racing, eventual adulthood, eventual enha being f1 drivers, multiple povs and written in fic. WARNINGS: expletives, abuse, violence, angst. WORD COUNT: 8k+ FEATURING: ITZY Yeji TAGLIST: @aishigrey @kgneptun

✘ SERIES MASTERLIST ✘

I needed to unwind after getting into another argument with my parents earlier. Hence, I am currently at the arena, cleaning and polishing my dark blue Bugatti Divo. Though I'm focusing on my task at hand, my mind still drifts off to my parents.

I don't know what happened to the kind and compassionate parents I once knew, but I guess they, too, have been blinded by money and power, just like the others. They knew about my feelings for Stella, so they decided to use it as an advantage. Hence, I have to cause a distraction and make her sway from serving her duties as the heir.

The more I think about it, the more resentment I feel towards my parents, towards the Hwangs for gaining themselves enemies, and towards my indecisiveness. I did think about Sunoo's rhetorical question, and it struck me deeply.

Sunoo's right. If it comes to racing or Stella, I would choose racing. But Stella is my first and unforgettable love.

My body trembles with emotions that I have been bottling up as my jaw clenches. I rise from the ground and throw the cloth elsewhere. "Shit!"

Thankfully, my best friends aren't here, or they would wonder about my bizarre behaviour. Speaking of them, I have a hunch that their parents are part of those who plan to bring downfall to the Hwang empire. I will probably ask them when I see them.

"Hey, Riki." I swear, I feel my heart almost jump out of my chest at the moment she greets me kindly.

I turn around and see Stella, decked out in black and blue leather, with her lilac hair pulled back into a ponytail. She appears to be busily wearing her black fingerless gloves, but her eyes meet mine while a small smile appears on her pink lips.

I gulp before composing myself. I hope she doesn't notice that I was shamelessly checking her out. "Hey, Stel." I give her a smile. "I didn't expect to see you here on a Sunday afternoon. You should be using this time to rest since there are classes tomorrow."

Her smile falters before she looks away from my eyes. "I don't really like staying at the mansion."

I carefully sit on the hood of my car as I fold my arms together. "Pray tell why?"

As I observe her body language, she seems to have mistrust and irresolution. Not only that, but she does look torn. The light in her eyes has dimmed, and even her smile is half-genuine. Something must've happened.

"Fine. I won't force you to answer my question." I sigh, my hands falling to my sides as I walk towards her.

Standing in front of her, especially with our height difference and the fact that she has to tilt her head up to look at me, awakens the butterflies in my tummy.

"But I need you to answer me this, honestly." My voice, which is already deep, drops to a lower octave while my eyes soften. I don't hesitate to reach out and brush her soft cheek with my thumb. "Are you really fine?"

Vulnerability glimmers in her eyes, reminding me of stars glinting in the skies at night. This time, she doesn't give me any smiles. "I don't really know, but I know that I have to be fine, especially when I have an important assessment coming up with my tutor."

Right. I must not forget my goal to cause distraction and sway her. But I can't be too obvious with my intent.

I raise my eyebrow. "Then shouldn't you be studying instead of practicing to race?"

She manages to crack a small smile. "You know me, Riki. I've studied in advance, and I've never failed any of my assessments."

I can't resist myself from patting her head, and I do so gently. "As expected from the ace."

"I'm no ace." She gives me an adorable scowl.

"Don't be so humble, Stel. You even ace in racing." A lazy smirk spreads across my lips. "It makes me envious of your skills. So, you want to compete against me?"

"Gladly."

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

I definitely went easy on Stella, as I let her win twice. Maybe I'm denying that my pride is bruised by the fact that she won against me despite my exceptional skills, or maybe I'm just glad to see the genuine smile on her face as soon as I exit my vehicle.

"I went easy on you." I give her a smirk as we walk side-by-side, making our way to the cafeteria to get some refreshments.

"Oh, really?" Stella raises her eyebrow at me. "You went easy on me not once, but twice?"

"Fine." I fake a sigh as I relent. "I suck. All hail Hwang Stella, the Queen of Racing."

She cackles, her eyes forming the shape of crescents. My heart warms at the sight of her. "Don't worry. You'll be living in my castle as well. I'll appoint you as my knight." She jests.

I halt my steps as I grab her wrist, prompting her to face me. With her hand in mine, I raise it up to plant a gentle kiss on her knuckles. My eyes lock with hers. "I'd be honoured to serve and protect you until my last breath, my Queen."

We stare at each other in seriousness, but it isn't long before we break into fits of laughter.

"We looked like idiots." Stella's laughter dies down as she wipes an imaginary tear from her cheek.

"Then we're each other's idiots." I say, still not letting go of her hand. I incline my head in the direction of the cafeteria. "Shall we, my lady?"

She takes me by surprise when she squeezes my hand lightly. "We shall."

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

The tension I've seen with her earlier has dissipated, for which I'm glad. I don't know what is going on in her life, but I need her to know that she can always lean on me.

"Stel?" I call for her as I hug my knees to my chest, sitting on asphalt ground alongside Stella.

I can feel her gaze on the side of my face. "Yeah?"

We've been chatting for so long that we didn't realise we had been basking in this comfortable silence as we sit next to each other closely.

"You know that you can trust me, right?" I turn my head, and my eyes lock with hers. "If things get too hard, you can always lean on me."

Conflict can be seen residing in her gaze. "I don't want to burden you."

"Stella, you can never be a burden to me." My heart begins to ache. "I want to be the one you run straight to first when something happens or someone hurts you."

Stella looks at me with indecipherable emotions. "Riki─"

This time, I don't hold back. "I need you to answer me honestly." The desperation lurks in my tone, but I don't even care. "Do you still see me as a little brother?"

She appears to be taken aback. "No, I don't. But why are you asking me this?"

"Because I'm finally doing what I should've done for a long time." I grab her delicate hand in my rough one, holding it close to my chest while she allows it. I don't break eye contact. "I like you. No, I love you, Stella."

Her eyes widen for a fraction. "Since when?"

"I've always liked you since we were young." I confess, despite how my heart is having palpitations. "You're my first love, Stella, and no one can ever be compared to you."

I'm not stupid enough to realise that she doesn't see me the way I wanted her to, but I can't contain my feelings for her any longer. It doesn't matter that she's breaking my heart, because I'll gladly let her break it over and over.

"You don't have to say anything. I just needed you to hear that." I smile faintly.

Her eyes turn crestfallen. "I'm sorry, Riki."

I shake my head. "Don't be. But can I lean on your shoulder? Just for awhile?"

As Stella nods her head, I scoot to her until the gap between us is nonexistent before leaning my head on her shoulder. I can feel how tensed her shoulder is, but soon she begins to relax and allows me to rest comfortably.

"Give me time, Riki." She says quietly. "I'm in a complicated mess, and I don't even know who my heart wants."

"Don't force yourself to choose me just because you pity me, please." I murmur, fluttering my eyes close, as her scent has me feeling at ease. "I'll make you fall for me, Stel."

I don't hear any response from her, and so we bask in the comfortable silence that wraps around us once more.

Three days have passed since Riki's confession, since I have decided to distance myself from all of them, especially from Sunghoon. What he said to me was engraved in my mind, and even though his words were hurtful, I couldn't deny the truth in them.

Maybe I am a slut. A slut who desires and wants their attention and affection so desperately. A slut who craves some form of validation.

"Miss Stella?" I hear a knock, prompting me to look up to see one of the helpers, whom I'm rather close with, standing by the door.

I break into a small smile as I straighten my back. "I told you to call me Stella whenever it's just the two of us, Mary."

Mary, who has been serving this family for ten years and who is only six years older than me, is someone I trust more than I trust the people with whom I share the same blood in this hellhole. She has always been helpful and gives me information whenever I ask her. She is also the one who tends to my wounds and bruises. I can always trust her to cover my back.

My smile slowly falters as I notice how fearful and anxious she looks, prompting me to make my way towards her. "What's wrong?"

Mary grabs both of my hands in her trembling grasps. "Your father has called for you, and he looked furious, Stella."

My heart begins to feel uneasy, but I remain collected. "Where is he?"

"He's in the room." Mary's voice wavers. "Stella, I'm worried for you."

"It's okay, Mary." I try to soothe her, placing both hands on her shoulders. "Whatever it is, you'll know that I'll always survive through it."

"Please be careful." Mary pleads. "The last time he called in there, you fainted. I was more than scared because I thought you wouldn't wake up."

I embrace Mary in a hug. "Don't worry. He won't be able to break me."

Yet uncertainty lingers in the air.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

The ugly truth about the Hwangs, which no one will ever know, is that we are taught and tamed by sheer violence. I've seen firsthand what happened to my older brother, whereas my older sister didn't receive many hits.

The first time I saw my older brother being hit by our father was when I was only five. My older brother and I were playing in his room when we heard our father's heavy steps approaching the room. My brother forced me to hide underneath his bed and sternly instructed me to stay quiet at all times. I remember flinching and trying to quiet down my crying with tears running down my face as I watched my father beat my older brother relentlessly.

My older brother tried so hard to protect and shield me from our father's violence, but he failed when I first received hits when I was seven. Both of my older siblings were screaming and pleading for my father to show mercy on me just because I failed in my assessments, which angered our father greatly.

Not only did I receive hits, but anytime I rebelled or failed to heed our parents' decree, my father would have me sit in a room and make me watch pure violence as he had his men bring some guy who probably owed my father money or some random people and have them brutally beaten with blood spilled everywhere.

I was nine when I first witnessed it, and it traumatised me for life, especially when one or two had died. Hence, seeing the sight of violence or a pool of blood triggers me.

And so, growing up, it has become the norm for me to receive such punishments, some of which left scars on my skin, though they aren't too obvious unless someone examines them closely.

The only person who hasn't been shown such violence is Rena. Our parents love and treasure her more than us. However, our father seems to loathe me more, and I have no idea why.

"I was told that you needed to see me." My face remains stoic, despite how surprised I am to see Rena and my mother inside as well. I know for a fact that Rena has malicious intent, given how there is a smirk on her lips.

"Yes." There is a cold yet deadly aura Minhyuk emits, but I don't display my fear of him. Rather, I focus on the hatred I have for him.

Minhyuk rises from his seat, his steely eyes meet my vacant ones. In his hand, I spot a small white file. "The tutor informed me of your result for the semi-final assessment. You didn't meet the standard."

My throat goes dry. I thought I had all the questions right.

"Do you have something you'd like to share with your mother and me?" Minhyuk asks, but I sense that he must've already known what he wanted to know.

"Yes, sister. Share with us!" Rena says delightfully.

"There is nothing to share." I assert.

"That's strike two, Hwang Stella." Warning glints in Minhyuk's eyes. "Strike one is for failing the assessment."

"You've been distracted." Jihyun points out with distaste. "You've forgotten that you're the official heir, and you chose to deviate from our mandates. Not only that, but you've also been whoring around with the other heirs who are supposed to be our enemies."

I clench a fist. Rena must've informed them. I mean, it's partially my fault too, since I was always seen with them on campus.

"That's strike three." He adds. "Jihyun, can you bring our sweetie Rena out?" Minhyuk tells Jihyun without tearing his cold gaze from my figure. "It's time for Hwang Stella to learn her lessons."

This time, I don't hold back, despite the fear that flows through my veins. "I've done everything you have asked me to!" My voice is resounding. "You've never appreciated my efforts and hard work! I'm the official heir, yet why am I being treated any less?!"

"Strike four." Minhyuk raises his voice while his hand proceeds to grab a leather whip at the side. "Seize her."

Before I know it, rough hands grab my arms, and I find myself being dragged. "Let go of me!" I struggle in their grasps. My heart pounds harder with each second as they force me to kneel before they tie my hands to the separated poles. I want to shout at one of the men, but he shoves a cloth into my mouth.

"You should've thought about the consequences of affiliating yourself with our enemies." Minhyuk says darkly as he circles around me. The pure hatred in his eyes is so apparent, while I am visibly shaken to the core. "You've allowed yourself to go astray, Hwang Stella."

Alas, Minhyuk whips me twice harder, causing my body to jolt from the impact while tears begin to flow down my cheeks, reeling in pure agony from the affliction. I cry as soon as he lands a second strike, but my cries are muffled by the cloth. My body is trembling in pain and fear. I feel wounds starting to form on my back.

"I've invested so much in you."

Whip!

"Yet, you disappoint me."

Whip!

"I made you the official heir just so he couldn't get to you."

I feel lightheaded by the affliction, and I feel blood seeping through the back of my clothes. My head is hanging low as I accept my punishment voluntarily while I weep helplessly.

I close my eyes painfully when Minhyuk grabs a fist of my hair and tugs it harshly as he pulls my head to the back. "My wife should've aborted you in the first place." His tone sounds venomous as he speaks beside my ear. He roughly releases me before returning to torture me.

Whip!

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

"Bring her back to her room and inform Mary to treat her wounds. After all is done, lock her in her room until tomorrow noon."

I hear Minhyuk order his men as I regain consciousness, but my eyes remain close. I allow myself to be roughly handled by his men. My wrists feel sore from how tight the ropes were. Blood drips from my back before I feel them grab my arms and drag me out of the room.

They keep dragging, even though I manage to see that the floor has been smeared with my blood. I try to keep myself awake, as my eyes are threatening to close again.

"Oh my god, Stella!" I hear Mary's voice above me, but one of the men seems to be speaking to her, informing her of what Minhyuk has ordered.

The two men throw me into my room, leaving me to sprawl across the floor. I'm not even fazed by them since they have done this before.

"Stella!" Mary cries out as she rushes towards me before cradling me in her arms.

"Mary, I need your help." My breath is laboured while I attempt to sit, but my back is in pure anguish. "My father will have me locked in my room until tomorrow. I need to escape."

"And where would you even go?" Mary asks exasperatedly, tears rolling down her cheeks.

"Somewhere that isn't here." I wince, finding strength to try and withstand the agony. "You'll help and cover for me, right?"

"Of course. Even if it means risking my life." Mary's declaration and loyalty bring tears to my eyes. "But please let me treat your wounds before you go."

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

The ointment doesn't really help, especially as I find myself wincing now and then from the pain. Earlier, I successfully managed to escape by using my bedroom window with a familiar robe tied to my waist and Mary assisting me until I safely landed on the ground.

I only brought my phone with me. As I look down, scrolling through my contacts, I don't hesitate to press on Riki's, calling him. I limp as I walk on the pavement. My feet are beginning to hurt from making it this far.

"Sorry. The number you have called is unavailable."

My heart aches, but I try calling him once more, only to end up the same.

As I keep my phone inside the pocket of my jacket, I feel raindrops starting to pour down. I heave a sigh before continuing on my journey. But as I begin to scan my current location, recognition sparks in me.

Despite the fact that I am on the verge of losing consciousness, I don't relent as I continue to make my way to his villa. I don't know if he'll welcome me or shun me away, but I have to try.

Finally, I reach, but I almost fall to the ground as my knees are about to give up on me. Standing in front of his door, I press the bell, hoping he will open the door. I haven't even realised how drench I am due to the pouring rain until my body begins to tremble due to the coldness and immense pain in my back.

My breaths become laboured as black dots fill my vision. Before I can lose hope, the door swings open.

"Stella?" His eyes are filled with pure confusion, yet he looks mortified.

"Sunghoon." I utter his name weakly as tears flow freely. "I'm sorry for coming here at this hour. I didn't know where to go." Before I know it, my body begins to shut down as I find myself falling.

"Stella!" The panic in his voice makes my heart ache, but the warmth of his body and his arms around me, which feel like a safety blanket, allows me to succumb to the darkness as I am finally safe.

Shit! Shit! Shit! I try my utmost to remain calm and not lose my fucking mind over the fact that Stella has just fainted in my arms. She is completely drenched from head to toe, and her beautiful face looks paler than usual.

I didn't know what to think when I opened the door, but when I saw the state she was in, I was genuinely shocked, but then came the rage. Even I could tell that she had been hurt, and I intend to find out who.

Her head lolls back with every movement I make as I head to my room. I don't know why, but I feel safer for her to be in my room instead of any guest room.

I use my body to push open the door before entering my room. I carefully set her down on my bed, and the instant I do so, Stella flutters her heavy eyelids as she blinks slowly. "Sunghoon."

"I'm here, princess." I assure her softly, holding her close to me as I cradle her. My heart clenches upon hearing how weak she sounds.

She attempts to tug at my shirt. "It hurts." Tears prickle in her eyes.

"Where does it hurt?" I ask as gently as I can, despite the fact that I am close to losing my mind and finding whoever dared to hurt her.

"My back." She whimpers, dependently leaning into me as though she needs some protection. "It hurt so much."

"Let me take a look. Can you remove your top for me?"

Her eyes are starting to flutter close, but I cradle her face. "I need you to try and stay awake for me, princess." I tell her sternly yet gently.

Although she is half-conscious and losing strength, she still complies and allows me to assist her in removing her top. As her nude back finally faces me, my eyes widen in horror at the sight, but soon fury ignites within me. Her once delicate skin bears wounds that are not for the faint of heart. Wounds that are fresh, with blood slowly trickling down her skin.

I try my best to remain collected, but my fingers are shaking with great anger. "Who did this to you?" I ask calmly, or so I thought, as Stella visibly flinches at my tone.

"My father, Minhyuk." She answers weakly. "Please, Hoon. It hurts so bad."

"Try and stay strong, princess." I kiss her crown. "I'll be right back."

Five minutes later, I come rushing into the room with a bottle of isopropyl and white bandages. I ran out of any ointments, but these will do for the moment.

"Princess?"

"Hmm?" She answers me sleepily, to which my heart soars at how adorable she sounds, as she is lying down on my bed, facing the side.

"Can you sit?" I ask, to which she complies again.

"Hoon?" Her eyes glance down at the bottle in my grasp. "Can I hold you? I'm scared that it'll hurt."

"Of course. Come here." As I pat my thigh, she scoots towards me before her arms interlock around my shoulders. "Just let out the pain if you must. Don't hold back." I inform her as I unscrew the cap before dabbing the liquid into the cotton bud.

I hesitate, afraid that I'll hurt her even more, as I know how painful it is to have my wounds rubbed with isopropyl. Soon, I begin to dap it onto her wound, and Stella holds me tighter with whimpers and sobs leaving her lips.

"Sunghoon." She cries into my shoulder while my heart aches terribly for her.

"I know, princess." I grit my teeth, hating that she is still in anguish. "Just a little more. You can do it."

Soon, her cries quieten, and all that's left are the sounds of her laboured breaths and occasional whimpers. With whatever bandages are left, I wrap them around her body.

"I'm tired." She mumbles, her body slumping in my arms. She moves her head to rest on my shoulder. "Don't leave me."

"I won't." I hold her close, as though I'm afraid that she would disappear. I plant a soft kiss on her forehead. "I won't let anyone hurt you again." I whisper, but my eyes darken at the thought of Hwang Minhyuk.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

I stayed by Stella's side throughout the whole night, seated on the floor with my hand holding hers. She was in a deep slumber, but whimpers left her lips, including her pleas of 'no more' and calling out for me. I couldn't even allow myself to fall asleep after witnessing such gruesome wounds on her delicate skin.

"We came as fast as we could." Ni-ki announces his arrival, jogging through the front door with Jungwon by his side.

"We bought the ointments you asked for." Jungwon shows me the plastic bag, which I snatch before quickly heading back to my room.

"What happened? You just texted me to buy specific ointments without telling me why you needed them." Ni-Ki says exasperatedly as they follow me from behind.

I don't answer them, and instead, I decide to show them as I open the door, revealing a conscious Stella with her bare back full of fresh scars to us. Earlier, when she woke up, she told me that she wanted to shower, and so I assisted her and waited outside the bathroom in case she needed me.

"Oh my god, Stella!" Jungwon is the first to run towards her while she slowly raises her body at the sound of his voice.

"What the hell happened?" Ni-Ki asks me, and anger and confusion swirl in his eyes.

"Hwang Minhyuk happened." I answer curtly.

Ni-Ki's eyes seem to widen in realisation. "Shit! That's why she called me twice last night, but my phone went dead!"

I ignore Ni-Ki as I head towards the two figures, who are in each other's embrace. I don't even feel an ounce of jealousy at the fact that she is in another man's arms.

Jungwon looks at me before his eyes glance down at Stella with a softening gaze. "Bubs, Sunghoon needs to apply ointment to your scars."

Stella remains unmoving in Jungwon's arms, to which I sigh. "Just hold her while I do it." I tell Jungwon before proceeding.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Jungwon and Ni-Ki offered to buy some food earlier, leaving me to look after Stella. I even texted the other guys about Stella's condition, and since the others have remaining classes, they will come over afterwards. I have classes too, but I have forsaken them as I would rather be here with Stella.

"Sunghoon?" I pause from brushing her hair down with my fingers and glance down at her as she lies on the bed with me. She looks up at me. "I'm hungry."

"I know, princess. Jungwon and Ni-Ki are buying us food." I reply softly, in a tone I have never used on anyone else, not even the girls I brought to my room. "Why did you come here instead of going to others?"

I've been curious about this throughout the night. Given the last time we met and how harsh I was to her, I didn't expect her to come looking for me. In fact, we're supposed to be nemeses, yet she has shown her full vulnerability to me.

"I don't know." I detect honesty in her tone. "I was just mindlessly walking, wanting to be away from that hellhole, and I found my feet had brought me to the street that was heading to your villa."

Guilt returns, as I recall. "I'm sorry for what happened last time." I caress her cheek with affection as we gaze deeply into each other's eyes. "I didn't mean any of that. I was a fool."

Stella offers me a faint smile, but enough to make my heart flutter. "No, you were right. There were some truths in what you said."

I sigh. "Stella─"

But she places her finger on my lips, silencing me. "At first, I didn't know why, but now I do. I do enjoy the attention they give me, and I crave any form of affection, even the scraps of it."

"Do you crave that from me?" I ask, my voice dropping to a whisper as I hold her cold hand to my chest.

"I don't know, but deep down, maybe I do," She says softly. "Even when you hate me."

"I don't hate you," I affirm, and my heart warms. "At least not anymore."

She looks a tad surprised before a faint smile returns to her lips. "I don't hate you too, Sunghoon."

This feels like a damn confession, but nevertheless, I feel relieved to hear that.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

I am still reeling from guilt. I could've been the one to get to her first and tend to her wounds, but my phone died on me. I can't even imagine what she has gone through. She hasn't told us what really happened to her. All we know is that she got those scars from her own father.

It is truly beyond me that her own father did this to her. I thought a father was supposed to be a protector, but instead, hers has been harming her. I have a feeling that he has been harming Stella for years.

Currently, Stella is sound asleep in Sunghoon's room after Jungwon and I took turns feeding her. I am deep in my thoughts, failing to realise that the other guys have arrived.

"Where is she?" Heeseung asks, and the concern in his eyes is visible.

"In Sunghoon's room, still asleep." Jungwon replies as he comes out of the kitchen.

"Let her sleep more." Sunghoon says sternly. "We don't want to overwhelm her with our presence."

"I don't get it. Who could've hurt her?" Jay asks, looking pissed off, as do the rest.

Sunghoon lets out a hot breath. "Hwang Minhyuk."

"Her father?" Jake's eyes widen in disbelief. "What the fuck? Why?"

"She hasn't informed any of us of the details about what really happened." I rub my tired face. "But I have a hunch that the truth is sickening."

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Despite Sunghoon's stern order that Stella not be disturbed, I manage to sneak away and make my way into Sunghoon's room. I can't stop worrying about her, even though she is already safe with us.

"Riki?" Stella mumbles sleepily as she awakens, probably feeling the dip when I sit next to her.

"It's okay. Just lie down, Stel." I assure her softly, just before she can rise. "How are you feeling?"

"Sore and still exhausted." She replies, her eyes seem to be examining my face. "Don't feel guilty, Riki. Sunghoon told me that your phone went dead."

"Still, I made a promise that I'd always be there for you if something happened."

"Sometimes, there are things that are beyond our control." She tells me with a kind smile that makes me fall in love again. "I don't blame you, not one bit."

"I blame me."

"Riki." She sighs, her hand reaching out to grab mine. "I understand, but I need you to never blame yourself for whatever happens to me."

"But─"

She shakes her head and takes me by surprise when she kisses my knuckles. "You're too good for me, Riki. I don't deserve you."

"You're wrong." I squeeze her hand lightly. "You deserve the best, Stel. More than you know."

Uncertainty resides in her gaze. "I don't know, Riki."

"I know so." I bend down to press a kiss on her forehead, longer than I intended. "Go back to sleep. You deserve more rest. You won't have to worry about getting hurt again. We're all here." I tell her as I cradle her face and caress her cheek with such affection.

"Thank you." She whispers, her gaze softening as she places her hand on top of mine.

"Always, Stel."

I'm done hogging in Sunghoon's room for almost the whole day, and the time now strikes 11 p.m. Though I still feel the remnants of sleep that have yet to leave my system, I know I need to get out of bed, as I've slept long enough.

I stare into the vanity mirror, seeing how I look as though life has been sucked out of me. Sunghoon's oversized white tee hangs loosely around my figure as it reaches above my knees, with the shorts that I'm wearing hiding beneath the tee. My eyes glance down at my wrists, where they had been tied tightly by the ropes. The redness is faint but noticeable.

With these scars on my skin, insecurity begins to dawn on me as I hug myself. I'm tired of crying, but the tears manage to find their way to prickle my eyes. Whoever sees them will probably feel disgusted by me. No one likes girls having ugly scars on their skin.

"Stella." My ears perk up at the sound of Jungwon's voice. "The others want to see you. They want to know what exactly happened to you."

A whimper leaves my lips as I shake my head, hugging myself tighter. "I don't want them to see me."

Jungwon frowns, stepping closer to me. "But they're worried about you."

Before I can take another step back, Jungwon stops me, placing both hands firmly on my shoulders. "Jungwon, please." My voice cracks a little. "I don't want you to see me like this."

"I don't understand, Stella. What's wrong with the way you look now?"

My lips quiver as I look away from his eyes. "When you saw my scars earlier, do you see me differently now? Do you hate how I look with them?"

"Bubs, look at me." Jungwon tilts my chin firmly as our eyes meet again. His eyes soften. "I still see you the same. With or without those scars, I'll always love you the same."

My vision is blurring by the second, while my heart feels touched by his words. "Do you really?"

Jungwon cradles my face as he gets closer. "Let me prove it to you." He whispers softly, and the next thing I know, his lips are on mine, but the way he is kissing me feels like he's afraid I'll break at any moment.

My heart stops beating momentarily while my eyes go wide, genuinely shocked by the fact that my childhood best friend is kissing me. Deep down, I should've known that he saw me more than just a childhood best friend with the way I caught him staring and looking at me like the other guys do and how his display of affection feels different.

But I know that I can never be in any serious relationship with him or any of them, especially when my heart yearns for more than one. It just feels wrong. As much as I want it badly, all of them deserve someone who isn't complicated and isn't a Hwang.

As a Hwang, we have too many foes who pretend to be our comrades. I don't want them to get hurt, or worse, if they are tied to me. But right now, I'm selfish, and I want to relish whatever I have with them now.

So it doesn't matter that I can never be together with any of them. It doesn't matter that my heart yearns for something that will last forever. So be it that I'm labelled as a slut or even a hoomie hopper.

And so, I reciprocate the kiss while tears have fallen from my eyes. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

"Stella!" Aera engulfs me in a hug as soon as I enter the living room, to which I wince when her arms make contact with my back. "Sorry!" She releases me and looks at me with glistening eyes. "My sweet girl. You don't deserve what happened to you." She sniffles while my eyes soften at how sincere she is.

Aera and Jungwon assist me to sit on the couch, even though I am capable of doing so myself. I have yet to make eye contact with the rest, especially when nervousness is shaking through my system. Are they looking at me differently?

"Hey, baby." Jay greets me softly as he sits next to me, though he appears cautious. My heart melts at the familiar endearment. His hand reaches up to tuck my hair behind my ear, prompting me to look into his eyes.

I guess today is officially Stella's full vulnerability day. "Jay." I whisper, smiling sadly at him.

Jay's arms carefully wrap around my shoulder as he brings me into his arms, to which I gladly snuggle into him with my head resting on his chest. His familiar scent calms my nerves.

"Can you tell us what happened?" Sunghoon asks, standing across from where we're sitting.

"Give her time, Hoon." I feel Jay's hand rubbing my arm with affection before I feel him kissing my crown and murmuring, "Take your time to answer him."

I let out a shaky breath, and finally, my eyes flicker up to scan their faces. "My father was the one who gave me these scars." I start off, though feebly. "He wanted to lock me inside my room until noon, but I managed to escape with the help of one of the helpers whom I trust."

"But why would he do that to you?" Heeseung asks, his jaw clenching while his eyes harden. "He's your father, and a father would never do that to his daughter."

"With how he treated you and was cruel to you, I'd say he's not your father." Sunoo adds that the tone of his voice sounds exactly like what Sunghoon sounded like last night.

I swallow down the painful lump in my throat. "Because I've failed in my semi-final assessment, and he knew that I was distracted due to how often I affiliate myself with all of you." I answer quietly.

I can't help but notice the guilt in some of their eyes, though I'm uncertain why. Even Jay feels tensed against my body.

"But what he did to you is overboard." Sunghoon scowls. "I don't want you to go back to that mansion."

"I don't want to either," I say, turning crestfallen. "But I must return. I don't want to get Mary, my trusted helper, into deep trouble or, worse, risk her life for me. You have no idea what the people in that hellhole are capable of."

"Can we see your scars?" Jake asks gently after a moment of hesitation.

Giving in, I reluctantly comply as I lean away from Jay's comfortable embrace. Turning my back on them, Aera, who has been sitting next to me, assists me in pulling up the back of my top. I hear Aera gasp in shock, while I can't seem to make out the reactions of the rest.

I don't even want to imagine what my scars look like. Given how my back is still hurting with every move I make, they probably look gruesome. I turn around and avoid their gazes.

"I'm going to fucking kill that bastard." Jake snarls, making me flinch at the rage in his voice.

"Don't." I warn him, including the rest of them. "I don't want any of you to do anything that puts your status or even your life at risk because of me."

"But what if he hurts you again?" Sunoo looks at me with such exasperation.

"Sunoo's right." Jungwon sighs, his fingers skimming through his hair. "What if we can't save you the next time?"

In return, I give them a faint smile. "This isn't something new to me. But trust me when I say I'll survive through, just as I always did."

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Sunghoon gave me a ride back to the mansion after winning a game of rock, paper, scissors against the other guys, to which I recall how amusing the sight itself was. But it did feel weird when each of them displayed affection towards me in front of each other, as though it's normal for them.

"Are you sure that you don't want me to come inside with you?" Sunghoon asks as soon as he opens the passenger door for me. "I know a thing or two about knocking people out."

I chuckle lightly. "It's fine. Plus, they should probably be asleep since it's way past two in the morning. Mary even confirmed for me that I am safe to enter."

As I am about to walk away, I feel his hand grab mine, tugging me back to him. "What is it?"

"I─" Sunghoon pauses, his eyes glimmer with a certain emotion. "Fuck it." He sighs lowly before pulling me close with his other hand, cradling the side of my face.

My breath catches in my throat just as he leans in, but he stops when our lips are about to touch. "Please forgive me for this." He whispers, and finally, he kisses me like he has been waiting for a long time.

I don't even have the time to reciprocate before he pulls away. His gaze softens as he looks at me, and his lips upturn with a weak smile. "Good night, princess."

"Sunghoon." His name is uttered in a broken whisper as I watch him leave.

As his car speeds off, I touch my lips, the feeling of his lips on mine still lingers. Two kisses in one night.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

As soon as I enter, Mary greets me with a hug, to which I reciprocate and lean into her body for support. "Thank you, Mary." I feel gratitude towards her after she had texted me earlier that my parents didn't suspect anything out of ordinary.

Mary proceeds to assist me as we head for the stairs. "Your parents and Rena left few hours ago."

"Where did they go?"

I see relief in Mary's eyes. "From what I heard, they have flown to Miami for vacation and your parents also have to attend business conference."

Thank God. "So when will they be back?"

"Next month." Their blatant favouritism towards Rena is disgustingly apparent, because how is she allowed to skip school so easily? But whatever. The good thing is I don't have to be on guard every time I step into this mansion.

"Oh, and there's another thing you should know." Mary adds, though I can detect how nervous she sounds.

I raise my eyebrow at her as we reach the second level. "What is it?"

Before Mary can respond, a familiar voice interjects, prompting me to look to the side with my eyes slightly widened. Though she is in her silky pyjamas, she still looks as beautiful as the last time I saw her. 

Despite how I feel a little resentful towards her for leaving me behind to pursue her dream, I can't deny how much I've missed her. Tears prickle in my eyes.

"Stella." She greets me, and her eyes soften upon seeing my face.

"What are you doing here?" I ask breathlessly. The last time she paid a visit was two years ago.

Hwang Yeji, though she is twenty-seven, she still looks youthful. I have always admired her with how she was always kind to me, encouraged me to do things I was hesitant of, and always braided my hair, making me feel pretty like her. I looked up to her as though she was my mother figure instead.

"I came here to visit you, of course." Yeji smiles sadly. "I've missed you, Stel."

I find myself running towards her before she wholeheartedly welcomes me in her arms. I can't help but weep, feeling relieved that my older sister is finally here.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Instead of sleeping in my own room, I followed Yeji to hers, wanting to sleep next to her since it has been so long since we ever got to sleep together. As my back is facing her while she is examining my scars, I stay quiet, unsure what she is feeling.

I hear her sigh before pulling down my top. "Minhyuk is getting worse." Yeji doesn't call Minhyuk 'Dad' or 'Father' as she loathes him the same as I do.

"I can't believe they even had the audacity to go for a vacation after torturing you!" Yeji exclaims, displaying her frustration. "And Rena, doesn't she still have school?"

Yeji and Rena didn't get along well due to how competitive and jealous Rena was of Yeji. Even when Yeji had shown kindness towards her, Rena chose to be insufferable.

I turn around and face Yeji. "At least we won't have to see their faces for a month. So, when will you go back to New York?"

Many years ago, after Yeji graduated from high school, she decided to move abroad to New York to pursue her dream of becoming a model. Our parents disapproved of her dream, but Yeji dared to rebel against them and earned some resources that enabled her to successfully move out of this hellhole.

"Do you want me to go back?" She asks, eyeing me softly.

I shake my head and latch my limb around her figure. "I want you to stay here with me."

"As much as I want to, I can't, sweetie." She brushes the hair off my hair. "But I'll stay here for as long as I can and for as long as you need me. I'm sorry you've had to go through this all alone. Your brother and I should've been here with you and protected you."

My chest starts to hurt while tears fill the brim of my eyes. "I miss Oppa."

Yeji plants a kiss on my forehead. "I miss him too."

PREV CHAP | NEXT CHAP

[whumperofworlds]

I'll Always Be Here

Now on AO3!

Fandom: Final Fantasy Crystal Chronicles (OC centric)

A/N: Not too whumpy, but I feel this still applies on this blog LOL. I mean, nightmares suck right? Better give it to my sweet poor guy! Also, it's Gulru and Rae's debut on this blog!!! I loved these two, and it's been a while since I wrote them so. Yeah!

I only own Rae and Gulru. Everything else belongs to Square Enix.

CWS: Nightmares, crying, romantic Caretaker x Whumpee, male whumpee, referenced death, referenced kidnapping, referenced slavery, tied up, food mention

ENJOY!

_____

I'll Always Be Here

He couldn't move.

The Thundara spell had paralyzed Gulru, preventing him from moving his body. The electricity sparked around him, and if he moved a muscle, the spell did its work, shocking him slightly. His breathing grew heavy and quickly, as he tried to breathe to no avail thanks to the panic attack rearing its head.

In front of him was Jack Moschet, grinning wide and with hatred filling his eyes, his arms crossed as he watched Gulru struggle. Behind Jack was Gulru's dear Rae, tied to the large, broken pillar, his hands wrenched behind his back. The Clavat's eyes were wide with fear and guilt, as he watched Gulru struggle to stand.

It hit Gulru then. Gulru tried to rescue Rae from Jack's clutches, but he too was caught. Rae was bait for Gulru, and the Yuke fell for the trap, hook, line, and sinker.

"Stupid bird," Jack mocked. "Don't you realize what you've done?"

Gulru flinched at Jack's voice, wanting to scoot away, but due to the paralysis, he couldn't. He whimpered, wanting to get far away from his former master as soon as possible. He needed to get away. He needed to save Rae.

"P-please…" Gulru stuttered, "Let Rae go! Y-you got me, just let him go, please!"

"And let him come after me once I'm through with you?" Jack laughed. "Ha! You're so stupid as always, boy!"

Tears began to fall down from the eyes of his helm, as Gulru whimpered and sniffled. This couldn't be happening. All he wanted was Rae back. But because of his foolishness, he'd never see Rae again. And it was all his fault.

"For what you've done to me," Jack growled, raising his gigantic hand. His claws shone in the sunlight that peeked over the broken roof of Moschet's Mansion. "I'll kill you right here!"

"NO!" Gulru could hear Rae scream out from behind Jack. Rae strained and struggled against his bonds, as tears fell down his face. He sobbed before he begged, "Don't kill him, please! Gulru! GULRU!"

Gulru shook his head, as more tears continued to flow down his helm. No. No no no. This couldn't be happening. He didn't want to die like this. Not when Rae was in danger. Not when he had just tasted freedom for the first time. Not like this.

Jack's claws flew down, aiming straight for Gulru's neck—

_____

Gulru gasped as he sat up, sweat beading down his helm. If he had eyes, they would be wide as saucers right now. His heart pounded, as he breathed heavily from the nightmare he had.

Wait… nightmare?

Gulru glanced at his surroundings. It was mostly dark, but he could still see where he was. He was in the tent that the caravanners set up for the night, with everyone still asleep in their sleeping bags. Beside him, also sleeping in a sleeping bag, was Rae, alive and safe.

Alive and safe…

Gulru placed a wing to his chest, trying to calm himself down from the nightmare he had. Tomorrow was another day of collecting myrrh—he needed to sleep. But his racing heart wouldn't calm down. He tried to take a few deep breaths to calm himself, something that Rae had taught him whenever he got scared or nervous. But his racing heart continued to pound in his chest. He sighed.

He wasn't going to get any sleep at this rate. He needed some fresh air.

He carefully crawled out of his own sleeping bag, not wanting to wake the others. He didn't want to wake them over something so trivial as a nightmare, so it would be best to let them rest. His eyes adjusted to the dark then, as he carefully stepped over his comrades until he reached the entrance of the tent. Quietly unzipping the flap, he left the tent before zipping it back up; he didn't want to let the breeze wake his friends up.

He sighed, before turning to the remains of the campfire. Smoke rose from the gathered burnt wood, with small embers stuck to their tips. He looked ahead to see the carriage, the Paopamous also asleep. The carriage was the same as it was—at least the Striped Bandits hadn't found them here and tried to steal from the carriage.

He sat on one of the logs that were around the small campfire, watching the embers and black smoke slowly rise from the remains. His mind tried to focus, to focus away from the terrible nightmare he had. But every time he tried to think of something else, that nightmare came back. How Jack had attempted to kill him. Right in front of Rae, no less. And Rae… seeing Rae scared broke his heart. He always boasted how he was brave and would never back down. But at that moment, seeing Rae crying and fearful for Gulru's life scared the Yuke more than anything else.

And it was all Gulru's doing. He was caught because he was reckless trying to rescue Rae. And now not only was Gulru traumatized from that ordeal, Rae was as well.

"Because of you."

Jack's words to him before he attempted to kill Gulru echoed in his head.

"Because of you."

It kept repeating in his mind. Gulru held his helm with his wings, trying to shut out his former master's voice.

"Because of you. Because of you. Because of you."

It had been a year since Jack was killed after that incident. Why was his voice still haunting Gulru? Why?

Tears began to form in the eyes of his helm, as he sniffled. His body shook, as the voice continued to blame him for what had happened.

He tried to hold in a sob, but he failed to, as he held his face in his wings. His crying was muffled, careful not to be too loud as he continued to cry. The nightmare repeated itself in his mind, as he cried and cried.

"Gulru?"

Gulru stopped suddenly; he would have widened his eyes in surprise and shock if he had them. With trembling wings, he removed them from his wet helm before turning his head.

Peeking out from behind the flap of the tent was Rae, a small frown on his face. Upon seeing how wet his boyfriend's helm was, his eyes widened. He left the tent fully then, turning for a moment to zip the flap up, before he turned back to Gulru.

"R-Rae?" Gulru questioned, his helm red in embarrassment. Oh Cosmos, did he hear him cry? "D-did I wake you? I'm sorry, I didn't m-mean to—"

"No, it's okay," Rae whispered, "you didn't wake me up, I promise. I noticed you were gone and I had to check up on you." The Clavat studied Gulru's helm, to which Gulru looked away shyly. He didn't want Rae to see that he was crying over a dumb nightmare. "...You're crying."

Gulru shook his head, as if denying that he was crying. "I-I was… it's—"

"Oh Gul," Rae said with a voice full of sympathy and worry. He walked towards the log Gulru was sitting in before joining the Yuke. He took Gulru's wing, gently squeezing it; it was Rae's way of telling Gulru that everything was okay, that he was safe. "What happened? Who made you cry?"

Gulru frantically shook his head at the last question. He knew how protective Rae was to Gulru; he never forgot the one time a Selkie had yelled at Gulru to the point of tears, and Rae threatened the Selkie to apologize to the Yuke. It nearly got the group kicked out of the town due to Rae's actions.

"N-no one did," Gulru finally said after a few seconds. "I…" He paused, unsure if he should say what had happened. Would Rae be annoyed or laugh at him over his problem? It was so trivial—nightmares had happened to Gulru before, and they never bothered him as much as this one.

But feeling Rae's warm hand and his worried expression pushed Gulru to at least tell him. Rae never judged him during the few years they knew each other. He wouldn't judge him over something like this.

"I-I had a nightmare," Gulru sighed, tears beginning to form in his eye holes again.

Rae only nodded, squeezing Gulru's wing. A cue to keep going.

"Jack… he kidnapped you," Gulru continued, his voice slowly cracking, "a-and I tried to save you, but he caught me… and he killed me. You were tied up a-and you couldn't do anything… I was scared, you were scared, and I-I…" He couldn't hold the tears any longer, as he buried his face with his free wing and began to sob.

Rae's frown intensified, scooting closer to Gulru. He released his hold on Gulru's other wing, before wrapping an arm around the trembling Yuke.

"Hey…" Rae soothed, "it's okay. It's just a nightmare. We're both safe."

"B-but," Gulru hiccupped, sniffling as he tried to wipe away the tears. They kept coming, however. "It was all my fault. If I-I had paid more attention, you wouldn't have gotten kidnapped and hurt. None of that would have happened if I wasn't s-so stupid—"

"Gulru," Rae piped up firmly, shocking the Yuke. Gulru turned to see Rae's face, noticing the narrowed eyes. He wanted to scoot away, feeling that he made Rae angry at him, but Rae held firm. "Don't ever call yourself stupid again."

"...What?" Gulru whimpered.

"It hurts me to see you depreciate yourself, Gul," Rae continued, his narrowed eyes changing into concerned ones. "You didn't do anything. Jack is the one at fault in all of that, not you. And even if you are at fault, you fixed it by coming for me. You even killed Jack by yourself." He leaned on Gulru, his head on the Yuke's shoulder. "You saved me, Gulru. And I'm alive. You're alive. We're both safe. You're my hero that day, and even now."

Gulru sniffled, the tears finally stopping. He wiped away a stray tear that fell, before he asked, "Y-you think so?"

"I know so, Gul," Rae confirmed. "You're brave, and strong in your magic… you're definitely a hero to me."

"...Rae," Gulru whispered, reaching out to hold Rae's hand again. The Clavat took it, squeezing his wing. "I-I'm sorry that I made you worry."

"It's okay," Rae whispered back, a small smile on his face. "Just know that I'll always be here. Always."

"And the same goes to you too, dear," Gulru chuckled, scooting closer to his beloved. If he had a mouth, he would be smiling. Smiling that he was lucky to have a boyfriend like Rae.

At the corner of Gulru's eye, he spotted a small bright light shining from across the hill. He gasped, seeing the sun slowly rising from behind the hill. The sun's rays shone, its light brightening up the dirt roads and the trees, giving them more color. It was beautiful; it shone just like the giant crystal that Gulru had seen in Tipa. How long were they sitting here, talking it out? Gulru wasn't sure. But he didn't mind at all.

"Wow," Rae piped up in awe, his eyes sparkling. "It's been a while since I saw the sunrise. This is beautiful!"

"I-it is," Gulru agreed. Despite seeing it many times, Gulru never took the sunrise for granted; after over a decade as Jack's slave, he missed the little things such as this.

The two watched the sunrise together, cuddled up to each other and enjoyed the view. It wasn't until a few hours later did the two heard stirring in the tent nearby.

Rae reluctantly released his hold on Gulru before standing, much to the Yuke's disappointment. But he understood why; it was another day of collecting myrrh.

"I gotta go make some breakfast," Rae said, stretching his arms up with a sigh.

"I-I can help," Gulru offered, also standing. "I got enough ingredients to make some apple fritters."

Rae smiled at his beloved, nodding to accept his offer. "Sounds great! Thanks, Gully."

Gully… another nickname. That's so cute.

The two began their work on breakfast, their bond stronger than ever after that night.

[secretkinkz]

Pool Session~ Toji Smut

I know Toji doesn’t have tattoos..

I settled down on my black leather couch. Gazing at the city lights. My muscles ache. I could hear nothing but my classical music. It wasn't easy being a model. I come home late, meaning I can't see my boyfriend. Shit, even if I came home early, he wouldn't be here. He'd be out doing what mafias do.

Fuck, that's so frustrating. I stood up. I'll take a swim. I changed into my black bathing suit and went to the roof, where my pool was. Glowing blue, a color I liked. I walked down the steps. The breeze sent chills down my spine as I reached my pool. I slipped off my coverup and went to the middle.

I sat on the seat and stared at the stars. They were beautiful tonight. The moon shined brighter than usual. In the middle of my pool was a bar. I stared at the liquor. I can't. I have a show tomorrow. I sighed and sat there, staring at the city lights.

"Mind if I join?"

A deep voice. I turned around, smiling. Seeing my boyfriend. He had on a tank top and his lazy shorts. "I thought you would stay at the mansion for an extra three days," I mumbled as he walked toward me. "You thought wrong, of course. I couldn't leave my beautiful woman here alone." He placed his wet his on my thighs and kissed me. His lips tasted like alcohol. When he pulled back, my skin tingled. I felt something stir inside me.

He sat on the stool next to mine. "Why out here in the cold?" He asked as I sat on his lap. "I wanted to swim for a while." He nodded. I stared at his tattooed hands. I've always found his tattoos sexy. He had them everywhere: his chest, back, arms and neck. Especially his neck, where my name sat. I bit my lip staring at him. He grabbed my chin.

"What are you thinking about?" I blushed. "Nothing." He smirked, running his hand up my thigh. I gasped as he gripped my ass. He started moving up. My heart was racing from all the feelings he evoked within me. My heart thumped louder when I saw his face getting closer to mine.

I closed my eyes, waiting for him to kiss me. When I felt his soft lips touch mine, I moaned. He pulled away. "Don't get too excited. I wouldn't want you getting on that stage fucked up." I shivered, wanting to hear more. "Fucked up?" He brushed his lips against my neck.

"Your pussy would still be throbbing. You'd barely be able to walk straight. You won't be able to think straight." His warm breath tickled my ear, making me feel more aroused. The way my pussy throbbed is not helping. "But-" He stopped me by grabbing my wrist.

"You need to be taken care of."

He stood up, holding my ass, and he went towards the edge of the pool. He placed me down, spreading my legs. His cock twitched through his wet shorts. I watched his hard member move. I slipped my hand in his shorts and ran my fingers along the shaft.

He lifted himself, letting his hot juices run over my fingertips. He kicked off his shorts and threw them on the ground. His cock rested on my thighs as he pushed my body down.

I wrapped my hand around it. His grip tightened around my neck. I sucked and kissed him with passion. He kissed me like no one ever had before.

My mouth opened slightly. I moaned. "I can't wait any longer. Toji put it in." With that, he pulled my entire two-piece off and positioned himself at my entrance. I held onto his hips, urging him to enter. He grunted. "

Shit," he whispered before entering me. He pumped my clit quickly. My mind went blank. "Oh, Toji!" I cried out, throwing my head back. He thrust harder and faster. I grabbed his shoulders, digging my nails into his shoulders. I felt myself going higher and higher.

"Faster please," I pleaded. He increased his pack, fucking me harder and deeper. I let my orgasm overtake me. "Don't stop." My mouth fell open as my body shook uncontrollably as my eyes rolled to the back of my head.

"Aw, that was too fast, baby. Don't dig your nails in my shoulder, it's bothersome. I don't want to tie you up." Toji kissed me. We slowly moved our hips together, grinding against each other. He kept going slow, just enough to make it last. After several minutes, he stopped thrusting. "What? No, To." I frowned. Toji smiled, "Don't be such a brat. I'm not done with you." He held my waist and turned me on my stomach.

I held onto the edge of the pool as Toji wrapped his hands around my throat. His hazel eyes showed nothing but lust. I arched my back as he slammed into me. "Right." He groaned, slipping his finger in my pussy. "Fuck." I closed my eyes.  

I moaned, trying to catch my breath. I thrust my hips into his hand, begging for more. He gave me pleasure. A moan escaped from my lips. "You're so needy. Did you miss me? Or my dick?" I managed to release a low chuckle. "You, of course." Proud of my answer, he hit my G-spot and continued fucking my ass.

Toji grabbed a first full of my hair and yanked my head back. "Ah, no. Baby, look at me." He whispered. His hips snapped upward. I stuck my tongue out. Toji leaned forward and began sucking my tongue. My toes curled. A whimper was caught in my throat.

Toji's movements got rougher, almost painful. I bucked my hips, trying to push myself up to meet his thrusts. He pulled back and thrust deep into me again. My eyes fluttered shut. "I'm coming! Fuck!"

I cried out, my body shaking violently. I could feel my pussy clamping around his cock. I moaned loudly. "Come for me." His voice sent chills down my spine.  

My inner walls convulsed violently as I climaxed. "Damn you." I cried out as he continued thrusting. I felt him twitch inside me as he came. Toji released a low groan. I felt my eyelids become heavy. His cum seeped down my thighs. He continued thrusting slowly. “You can’t work tomorrow.” He smiled.

I knew this would happen..

[violetsandfluff]

Tidy Little Secrets: Part II

previous part // next part // series masterlist // my masterlist

tw: SLOWWW BURN (it picks up soon I promise), sex (in different parts), sexual tension, age gap, allusion to smut, potentially triggering dream scenarios, and other sensitive topics such as decapitated chicken snow globes (you heard it here first). that said, enjoy!!

wc: 5.1k

Your visit with Harry left adrenaline coursing through your veins. Your heart was pumping blood through your body three times faster than usual to support the overtime your brain was working. Your focus was hardly set on the road, or the speed limit, but rather on the green-eyed, broad-statured man with the gleaming mansion uptown.

A cloak of obsession veiled your mind, and a mound of heat was positioned permanently between your legs, intensifying every time you recalled the dream you’d experienced as you snoozed involuntarily on Harry’s sofa. Your feral mind raced as your thoughts strayed to the glimpse of his bedroom you’d caught. It was some sort of unsaid truth that there had been many gorgeous girls in his bed and a meek, meager section of your mind couldn’t help but wish you could one day be among them. For now, though, you were a lowly housekeeper, but that was better than nothing.

You made it home much more quickly than you’d arrived. Letting yourself into your dingy apartment, you were filled with a mild sense of disappointment. After experiencing Harry’s grand mansion, your abode felt like a sewer. Still, though, it was home. It housed your possessions and maintained a steady temperature, which was all one really needed. The first thing you did after you set down your bags was call your sister. You had a lot of steam to blow off after your excursion.

Your phone vibrated as you willed your sister to answer. Much to your relief, she answered on the last ring, anxious to hear about your new job. You were talking a mile a minute before she was able to get more than a cheery hello in.

You told her about the mansion, and how pristine the neighborhood was. His kitchen, garage, flower garden, and secret room all made their way into your conversation. You spoke in vivid, ecstatic detail about his living room, his bookshelf, his floors, and his hair. You only left out the minor parts where you had had a wet dream on his couch and disobeyed him by entering his bedroom. Nataly listened intently to every detail until, at last, you stopped to take a breath.

“His suit was so crisp and proper-looking and his hair, Nat. If only you could see his hair!”

“Wow,” she breathed. “I told you it would be a good job to take.”

“He’s so hot,” you whined, “and he pays me so well! I’m so incredibly grateful he hired me.” You disclosed several more details regarding your pay and employer, all of which Nataly absorbed wordlessly.

“Even I don’t get paid that much,” she said faintly, trying not to let jealousy overtake her excitement for you. “Good for you! And I’m sure him being hot makes the job better?”

“It’s distracting at best,” you grimaced. “Either way, though, I’m so glad you opened my mind to the job. You deserve all of my thanks.”

“Aww, Y/N.” Nataly was touched. “Sisters for sisters, am I right?”

“Of course,” you replied happily. “I’d never let you down.”

“Nor would I you.”

A welt of giddy ecstasy formed deep inside you. She had been there for you throughout your childhood, demonstrating the tough love you needed to thrive in the long run. She had been like a parent to you when you were younger, but now that you were both older and living independently, you were more friends than relatives.

This proved to be quite useful in situations such as this, a job search gone a million times better than imaginable.

You went to bed with a stomach full of butterflies, imagining with your overactive brain what interactions with Harry tomorrow would bring.

Snippets of your wet dream tormented your subconscious, weaving themselves into a paradisal, sex-etched dream in which you were Harry’s housewife. You lived a life cleaning your shared home by day and embracing him by night while he worshiped your work and your body. He told you how precious your children were and how he needed more of them. He told you he wanted a dozen little y/ns running around, playing with each other, and being downright adorable.

“You make the garden grow beautifully, my love,” Harry praised you as he knelt before you, his head dipping under your skirt. “And kneeling before you, I can see how you make the floors gleam. Plus, as we tucked in the children at bedtime, I realized how much they all resemble you. They have your eyes, your smile, and your heart. I’m going to need a million more.” He ducked his head out from under your skirt to examine your face as it beamed down at him, but it didn’t take long for him to begin devouring you.

“You’re so strong, mama,” he cooed, his face buried deeply into your pussy. You could feel his hot breath as it was muffled in your wet folds. “You do so much, and you do all of it well. You make beautiful babies as well.” He smiled a dimpled smile that only your clit could see before continuing. “It makes me feel like I need a thousand more. I know I’m busy but I need to show you how much I love you.”

“I know you love me, H.”

“Please, darling. You deserve the world.”

“You are the world.”

A gravelly moan clawed its way out of Harry’s throat as he continued thrusting his fingers into you. “Way too good for me,” he groaned. “You look so pretty, you’re so nice, you’re all tight for me and y’taste amazing,” he breathed. “You stand up to my cock so well. Do you want it in your mouth or your cunt?”

Your eyes were brimming with tears by the time you woke up. You hated it. You wished so desperately to ward off the remnants of the dream. Your pussy felt tender even thinking about the words he had spoken to you. You couldn’t remember much of what he had told you, but whatever it was had to be effortlessly sexy, just like him. The vision of him kneeling before you as he praised your pussy was a whole new level.

Harry would make a wonderful husband and father, there was no doubt in your mind. However, you hated the way he made you feel. After having met him less than twenty-four hours earlier, you had already had a wet dream about him on his sofa, spent an entire afternoon daydreaming about him ravishing you, and spent a night dreaming of his children. Anyone who could rewire your brain as such was dangerous.

You replayed every second of your encounters with him until a glance at your alarm clock told you that you had forgotten to set it the night before, and thus were running late. With a sigh of resignation, you slipped out of bed, not bothering to make it. After all, you’d be back in it the moment you returned home.

A trip to your wardrobe informed you that laundry would be a priority when you arrived home, but you were able to scrape together an outfit that consisted of leggings, a short-sleeved t-shirt, and an oversized hoodie. Fuck provocative skirts.

You gathered your hair into a messy knot at the back of your head and applied your makeup as well as you could through your haste. As the cliche stated, haste did indeed make waste. When applying your mascara, your hand slipped, smearing black paste from your lashes onto your undereye.

Fixing it was inconvenient at best, but the whole situation was a minor hitch compared to what was to come later in the day.

The drive to Harry’s house with the windows down and the radio blasting wasn’t half bad. You put on your favorite feel-good playlist and let the music wash over you as you drove. The melodies you’d grown to know and love filled your ears and your heart. You couldn’t fight the urge to smile foolishly.

The drive was long enough to rid your mind of any negativity and recharge you so you arrived feeling your best.

Harry was waiting for you just inside the door when you walked in. He greeted you with a pleasant smile and a subtle wink. “Good morning, love,” he smiled, standing stiffly a ways off. “How was your night?”

“Exhausting,” you groaned, nervously elaborating as you saw his face twist in confusion. “It was just a dream. I wasn’t doing anything else,” you explained. “Nothing I shouldn’t have been,” you mused under your breath.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he empathized, clearly oblivious to your latter quip. “Care to talk about it? I have time.”

“N-no,” you stammered, “there’s no need for that. Do you have any jobs for me today?”

“Eager to work, are we, darling?” Before you could put a word in crosswise, he continued. “I’m not sure that I have much for you to do today. I’ve got dinner in the fridge, don’t worry about making anything. Just do whatever you see fit.”

“This place is immaculate,” you frowned, momentarily forgetting the professional demeanor you were expected to uphold.

“It’s not always this orderly,” Harry chuckled fondly. “You’ll have your share of messes, I’m afraid. However, if you must do something, I have a collection of vases in the kitchen that could use a good cleaning.”

“I don’t mind!” You flashed him a winning smile. “After all, messes are what I signed up for!”

“There are a lot of vases, darling.”

You poked your head into the kitchen, gawking at the open cabinets and mountain of vases on the counters and floor. “That is a lot of vases!”

“You don’t expect the flowers to pot themselves, do you?” Harry joked. “It’s alright if you can’t finish them today. I completely understand. It’s taken me a year and… I have yet to get to them.”

“I’m not complaining,” you smiled pleasantly, cracking a smile at Harry’s comment.

A soft hum brewed in Harry’s throat as he contemplated adding something, ultimately deciding not to. “Call me if you need anything, love, but I’m sure all you’ll need is in my trusty old closet.” He beckoned towards the crawl space under the regally ascending staircase. “I have lunch for you in the fridge. Any other questions?”

“I don’t think so,” you said, trying to maintain a cheerful tone. “You had better be off.”

“Are you kicking me out of my own house?” Harry placed his hands on his hips in a teasing attempt to appear cross.

Shocked by his sudden change in emotion, you stepped back and stammered out a panicked reply.

“I was only joking, love. You’re right. I can’t be late for my own job, can I?”

“Have a good day, Mr… um, Harry.”

“You as well, Miss… Y/N.”

~~~~~

A trip around Harry’s mansion told you that finding an area to clean would be harder than expected. There were a few shelves you could dust or a few books to rearrange, but that would take you an hour at most. What were you supposed to do while Harry worked an entire nine-hour day? You made your way to the closet beneath the stairs and retrieved a feather duster.

Hesitantly, you began dusting the various paraphernalia you found around his house; books on shelves, lamps, and the surprising amount of snow globes you found lined up on window sills, notoriously collecting dust.

While the quantity of snow globes caught your attention, the content of some of them was particularly strange. There were some normal globes that contained winter animals and snow, and others that contained galoshes-clad children and snowmen. Alongside these were more obscure choices for snow globes; a poop emoji decked out in Christmas lights, a cactus wearing a jacket, and a decapitated chicken holding its own head to name a few.

After making sure every table, window sill, and trinket was dusted to perfection, you knew you should start on the vases, a task you absolutely dreaded. Your hands trembled increasingly as you neared the army of vases. There had to be at least one hundred of them. Your stomach was filled with dread, knowing all too well that they were all equally valuable as they were fragile. You set your mind to cleaning the outsides with a wet, sudsy rag and the inside with the same rag or a bottle cleaner, depending on the size of the opening. You drew in a deep breath to calm your mind and steady your hands. If they went on trembling as they had been, you’d surely drop every vase you dared to touch.

The sizes of the vases varied, as well as the height, colors, and patterns. Some of the vases were round and smaller than your hand while others were thin, tall, and tapered. They ranged in color and material from pure, spotless crystal to eccentrically painted clay pots. They were all beautiful in their own ways, but some were definitely more eye-catching, including crystal vases with ornate detailing etched into them. You assumed those to be the more valuable, more fragile vases.

You consoled yourself with the thought that if you were to shatter a vase in a freak turn of events, the money for a replacement would be withdrawn from your paycheck, which was more than plentiful to begin with. Reassured by your worst-case scenario, you grabbed a pair of tight gloves from the closet under the stairs. They proved to be more than helpful in providing grip to your fingers, which would have been too slippery alone.

You began with a broad rectangular vase that appeared sound and sturdy. You sponged down the outside before inserting the bottle cleaner and cleaning out any dust that had accumulated inside. You held onto its neck as if your life depended on it, because, in essence, it did. Your self-esteem was at stake.

Washing the vases wasn’t nearly as nerve-wracking as you’d anticipated. Eventually, you fell into a rhythm of polishing their outsides, thrusting a bottle cleaner inside, and rinsing them. The idea of Harry coming home to a counter full of perfectly clean vases motivated you. You couldn’t help but crave the praise he’d bestowed upon you in your dream. The view of impeccably arranged flowers thriving in his backyard made the task much more bearable.

Just as your confidence was in full bloom, your mind began to wander from the task at hand to a daydream similar to those you’d experienced the day before. Memories of your dreams wore at your stomach like a butterfly-infested pit. You tried to shake them, but you dropped a vase in the process. You jumped back in alarm as the painted terra cotta pot crashed to the floor, crumbling into an array of brightly colored pieces.

Your teeth sunk into your lip as you brainstormed ways to tell Harry that you had broken his vase. It was only your first day on the job; far too early to mess up so royally. Once your wits were gathered back up, you tiptoed carefully to the closet under the stairs in search of a broom and dustpan. You swept up the shards of pottery as carefully as you could before withdrawing a mop and bucket from the closet and cleaning the floor thoroughly.

~~~

After three more days of cleaning Harry’s house, a pit still grew in your stomach every time you wondered how you would break the news of the broken vase to Harry. Would he be upset or would he laugh it off? Would he take the money for a replacement out of your paycheck or fire you? You swore to yourself that you wouldn’t let your mind wander to worst-case scenarios. But it had been days since the vase was broken. Surely he would know that you’d delayed admitting this to him for one reason or another.

He had praised your work in cleaning the remaining vases, rewarding you with a glass of his favorite wine. The thought of telling him now that you’d shattered one of his precious vases was daunting. You shouldn’t have accepted his reward. You hoped he wouldn’t recall his kind action after the fact, but there was only so much you could about it now.

You distracted yourself with daydreams until he returned and your conscience would force you to admit your fault to him.

The yearning, lustful side of your soul longed to bear his children. You could imagine an army of children in the kitchen, making a mess out of cookie dough, or outside in his garden playing. You could see kids bouncing on their beds against your judgment and drawing masterpieces on the basement walls. These daydreams came and went throughout the day as you cleaned vases and dusted bookshelves.

Though it felt wrong to imagine Harry’s house filled with your children, you caught yourself smiling foolishly to yourself every time the thoughts crossed your mind. In fact, you were so enthralled by your fantasies, you didn’t hear the door open.

You were positioned in front of one of Harry’s numerous floor-to-ceiling bookshelves with a feather duster in hand, clearly serving no purpose as it hung limply at your side.

“D’you like books?” a low voice rasped from behind you.

You whirled around to find Harry leaning against the doorframe with half of his body in the living room.

“What?”

“Nothing, darling. I just asked if you liked books. I saw you examining the titles and assumed you were interested.”

“I do,” you responded slowly, feeling his eyes on you. “You’re home early.”

“No, ‘m not,” Harry replied. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but I brought dinner if you’re hungry.”

“Oh,” you stood awkwardly by the bookcase you had been “dusting” as you racked your mind for quick excuses to escape.

“Y’don’t have to stay f’you don’t want to,” Harry assured you. “Just know there’s more than enough to go around.”

The hopeless romantic in you yearned for more time with him. Any time could potentially turn into a night, after all. On the other hand, the more reasonable side of you told you to leave. You had been thinking about him all day, in ways he could never imagine. If your tongue were to slip after a drink, your cover would be blown and you could lose your job after barely having secured it for a full week.

“I’ll stay,” you decided softly. Your innermost conscience let out a howl of disdain.

Harry’s face broke into a broad grin. “Thank you, love. I know I haven’t really gotten to know you, and since my house has been getting to know you, I figured I should too.”

You nodded awkwardly, watching helplessly as he withdrew a styrofoam takeout container from inside a flimsy plastic bag.

“I just got pasta. I hope that’s okay with you.”

You let out a soft hum similar to a chuckle before feeling his gaze fixed on you once more. A wave of heat rushed to your cheeks as you scrambled to give him your approval.

“Come to the kitchen.”

You followed Harry through the narrow hallway that led to the kitchen. He removed two plates and wine glasses from a cupboard as you watched, twirling your hair uncomfortably.

“How much d’you want?” Harry asked, beckoning for you to join him at the counter with the food. “It’s pretty filling.”

“Not a whole lot,” you responded, but the closer you got, the better the food looked and smelled.

“Which is how much, love?” Harry pressed, lowering a mass of noodles onto your plate. “Not a whole lot like this? Less? More?”

“Like that,” you said meekly.

“You can always have more, darling,” he reassured you. “Wine?”

“A little bit.”

You nodded contentedly as you watched him pour two glasses of deep red wine dish up his own pasta. “We can eat in the living room,” he decided. “That’s what I do most of the time.”

“Such a gorgeous kitchen and dining table and you don’t use it?” you asked without thinking, your voice filled with a mixture of awe and disbelief.

Harry let out a rolling laugh. “That’s why it’s so spotless,” he explained. “If you want, we can eat in here.”

“You can choose. I honestly don’t care.”

“Let’s eat in the living room,” Harry concluded. “We can watch tv or read books or just talk; whatever y’want, love.”

Your heart fluttered as he spoke. You followed him into the living room, where he sunk comfortably into the woven, cream-colored upholstery of the loveseat.

“Sit anywhere y’like.” He made a broad, sweeping gesture across the room. You sat down tentatively on the sofa opposite his.

The two of you ate in comfortable silence for a moment before he broke the silence. “What kind of books d’you like, Y/N?”

“I like any kind of book,” you replied after swallowing the hardly-chewed bite of food in your mouth. “I read whatever books I can get my hands on.”

“I’m kind of the same way.” He shifted his weight from one hip to the other, crossing his left leg over his right. “I like older stories.”

“Such as?”

“Shakespeare-era stuff. I like tragedies. And romances.”

“And murder mysteries?” Your mind flashed to the murder mystery of his you had picked up in his second living room on Monday. You hoped you weren’t being too blunt.

“That’s more of a guilty pleasure,” he admitted with a sheepish smile through a bite of pasta. “I’m reading one now if that interests you.”

You let out a pleasant hum as you feigned intrigue. “Is it good?”

“Yes.” He aimed his twinkling eyes down at his plate. “Like I said, a guilty pleasure.”

“I’ve never seen someone so embarrassed to like mysteries,” you remarked innocently. “This is coming from a girl who listens to true-crime podcasts before bed.”

Harry’s eyes flashed up to you with a look of amused bewilderment. “That’s a new one to me.”

You smiled shyly as your cheeks flushed.

“True crime, hm?” Harry eyed you playfully as he took another bite of pasta. “Does it put you to sleep?”

“Kind of,” you replied bashfully, letting out a helpless laugh as you were suddenly stricken with self-consciousness regarding what you’d shared.

“No judgment, dear, its alright. I’ve got my fair share of interesting habits.”

“Oh?” you quirked an eyebrow, willing him to continue.

“You’ve seen my garden?”

“Of course. It’s beautiful!”

He nodded, ducking his head slightly. “I get up early every morning to tend the flowers before the sun rises.”

“That’s early.”

He nodded. “I suppose that’s not too strange. The world is filled with its early birds.”

“I guess,” you nearly whispered, trying only to fill the silence. “Your garden is beautiful. I assumed you had a gardener to tend it.”

“Didn’t see me as the gardening type, eh?”

You stuttered out an incoherent response, but Harry just laughed.

“That’s alright, love. Neither did I, at first. Maybe one day you can come early and help me. Maybe spend the night? Believe me, that was merely the tip of the iceberg regarding my interesting mannerisms. But we can save those for another night.”

It was all you could do to finish chewing your bite before you swallowed it.

Harry’s eyes were angled skillfully down at his plate, but high enough to catch your reaction. The b*stard.

“Do you want to watch something, love? Or would you rather read?”

“Either sounds good,” you said in a tone more chipper than usual as you tried to clear your head. Had Harry really asked you to stay overnight?

“Let’s put on a movie. Y’won’t be able to see the tv from over there.”

“Oh.” You craned your neck around until the massive flatscreen tv came into view.

He patted the cushion beside him and you joined him tentatively.

“I have blankets if y’want one.”

“I’ll take one,” you replied.

He tossed the remote into your hand as he rose to his feet, using a hand on your knee to guide his body upwards. “I’ll be back in a moment. Find something you like. I’ll watch anything. I’m easy that way.”

Your breath caught in your throat as you watched him leave. The backside of his navy blue slacks creased tantalizingly under his delicious ass as he walked, and his suit coat made his back look so muscular and broad. You could only imagine the wonders that lay beneath. These thoughts threatened to launch your mind into another spiral, but you tamed them as if your life depended on it.

As he disappeared from your sight, you sorted through the shows on his Netflix until you landed on a show you’d begun years ago. Though you barely knew him, the show seemed to be right up Harry’s alley, and you might as well rewatch a little bit if you were going to stay.

He returned in a matter of minutes with an armful of blankets. He cocked an eyebrow at the television before tossing a blanket in your direction.

You pulled it snugly around your shoulders and Harry did the same with his, casting you a playful smile and a shrug.

“Have you seen this before?” he asked, referring to the tv.

“A little. It was the only thing I’d started.”

“You didn’t finish it?”

“No.”

“Why not, love?” he asked rhetorically as he settled onto the couch beside you. “It looks like a perfectly decent show t’me.”

“You might not be into this kind of thing,” you informed him. “I don’t quite remember if I liked it. We can watch something else if you want. I just… panicked and chose something.”

“You panicked?” Harry repeated. “Are y’scared of me?”

“N-no.”

“You don’t sound so sure, love.” He raised an eyebrow adorably as you tossed the remote back to him. “If anything, I should be scared of you, the way you work so hard.”

You were struck by a sudden attack of deja vu.

“Cleaning all of those vases, completing the task that I could never bring my lazy ass to do.” He ran a hand over his stubble as he let out a shameful laugh, turning his attention to the tv.

The back of the couch proved to be a comfortable place to rest your head. Soon, you drifted off to sleep, unbeknownst to Harry. Much to your relief, your dreams weren’t haunted by ghosts of sex or elements of noisy children. In fact, you didn’t dream at all. Though you usually looked forward to the scenarios your dreams provided you with, you were grateful to have a peaceful sleep for once.

Harry’s voice awoke you two hours (and three episodes) later, breaking gently through the barrier between your mind and reality.

“Do you want to keep watching?” When there was no response, he glanced over to his left where you were sleeping peacefully. “Y/N, doll,” he called softly. “Wake up, love.”

You eased your eyes open, drawing in a long breath before a yawn escaped your lips.

“Tired, darling?”

“A little,” you replied, pulling the blanket tighter around your shoulders. “What time is it?”

“Eleven-thirty. It’s probably time for you to go home, doll. You can take the blanket with if you want.”

“I’m okay,” you said as you stifled another yawn.

“Do you need a ride?”

“I should be all right.” You rose to your feet, bending backwards slightly to alleviate the ache in your back. “Thanks for dinner, H.”

“You’re welcome, darling. See you tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow?”

“Monday,” he corrected himself, shaking his head as he rolled his eyes playfully. “Stupid Harry. See you Monday?”

“Sure. Harry?”

“Y/N?”

“On Tuesday, when I was washing your vases,” you began, standing as stiff as a statue as your heart hammered inside your chest, “I broke one.”

“You broke a vase?” Harry rose to his feet beside you and your breath caught in your throat.

“Which vase?”

“It was short and stout… terra cotta with painted geometric designs. I kept the pieces if you wanted me to try and fix it?” The words spilled out of you as your face flushed a deep shade of red. Tears of embarrassment pricked at your eyes.

“No, darling,” he chuckled, pressing a finger beneath his nose in attempt to muffle his amusement. “That’s not necessary. Don’t be upset, okay? I’ve got hundreds of them for a reason.”

You managed a weak smile as you took a deep breath to steady yourself.

“That vase cost twenty dollars at most. Don’t worry about it.”

“Twenty dollars-”

“It’s not that much, lovie.”

“It’s not a lot, but it’s not my money!” you insisted, beelining to the table near the door where you had placed your belongings upon arrival that morning. “I promise, I can pay you back.”

“No, Y/N.” Harry protested. “Please, darling. Don’t worry about it.”

“I owe you.”

“I owe you, doll. You’ve helped me out a ton this week.”

“You can take it out of my paycheck,” you suggested.

“You’re asking for a demotion?” Harry grinned. “Think of the vase money as a bonus.” He reached into the pocket of his stiff, creased pants and withdrew a twenty dollar bill. He held it out to you and you stepped back in confusion.

“For keeping me company.”

“I broke your vase and you shared your dinner with me.”

“Take it,” Harry insisted. “You’re not leaving without it.” Just then, with a smug smile slapped across his face, he took the money and hid it behind his back, watching your face intently for a reaction.

“H…”

“You can have it, love. I suppose it isn’t getting any earlier. Drive safely, okay?” He wrapped his arms around you, sweeping you up into his arms until he was holding you bridal-style. He pressed a hot kiss to your lips before setting you back on your feet and folding the bill into your hand. “Good night, doll. See you Monday.”

“See you Monday, H.”

Harry stood in the entryway for a long moment after you shut the door, removing his phone from his pocket to check the doorbell camera and ensure that you made it to your car safely. As soon as you were safely on your way home, he flipped from his Ring tab to his messages to catch up on anything he might have missed.

Taglist (either interact with this for all of my writings or comment on this post for this series): @victoria-styles @witchywolfewood27 @ilovemuppets @rueluvsharry @sunshinemoonsposts @namelesssav @lukesaprince @madybeth21 @groovychaosavenue @fishingirl12 @sortingharryshairclip @tenaciousperfectionunknown @mrspeacem1nusone @cayleyhannha-blog @babygirl-jj @whitemancumslut @xxrosebunny @hsdaydreaminghaze