#the day after the festival by peg

[eclaire-went-bam]

anyone else listen to any cluster b coded song and get really internally defensive over it because there's no way anybody else relates to it as viscerally as you do. like people listen to it because it's cool, or to cheer up from a break-up, or to pump themselves up before some event, and you're here like

"no actually at all times i have the need to start shit to stave off the ever-consuming boredom. no actually at all times i Am better than everyone in this room. no the egotypicals cannot relate to my entire life being constantly this song. no you don't get it you can't even confidently ask for a ketchup packet. I Am Going To Light A Fire."

[rosenlied]

Long time no Vocaloid redraws

[undead-supernova]

High Tolerance Masterlist

pairings: modern!bestfriend!Eddie x bisexual!fem!reader

plot: you and Eddie decide to have a calm day before your Christmas party. and, for the first time since you met this year, you find clarity.

cw: cannabis consumption, nicotine indulgence, a dash of spice, gentle angst

wc: 3.2k

note: this is a one-off of my High Tolerance series, as well as my submission for @littlexdeaths's Christmas Event, choosing prompt 10: ghosts of Christmas past. I love you, Mari. Merry Chrysler <3

This is a Christmas present for one of my lovely best friends, @jo-harrington who has made a huge impact in my life, my heart, and my writing. Thank you for all the love you've shown me. I don't take any of it for granted.

“No, what I’m saying is that I think a man is lame if he won’t let a woman peg him.”

“That’s over dramatic.”

“What, you don’t agree with me?”

“No, I just think you’re simplifying it.”

“Are you saying that you wouldn’t let a woman peg you?”

“I didn’t say that.” 

“Ha!”

Eddie shook his head, carrying the last of the Kroger bags to your kitchen. “Listen, all I’m saying is that I don’t think you can judge someone like that. What if they’re straight?”

You took two of the heavier bags from him before placing them on the counter. “Well then I have more incentive to judge.” He rolled his eyes. “Would you go close the door?”

“You’re ruthless. Absolutely not,” he responded before doing exactly what you asked.

Eddie had been a big help, prepping for your Christmas party the following night as co-hosts. The decision on where to hold it was easy: your apartment was slightly bigger than his, not to mention Eddie was still figuring out how to decorate his new apartment.

Steve and Robin offered, but Eddie had been adamant that it was him and his Weirdo who would do the best job. The A-List guest list consisted of you two, Steve, Robin, Gareth, Grant, and Jeff. 

While you’d gone home to see your mom and sister for Thanksgiving, Eddie’s bandmates had surprised him with the news that they were officially planning to move to Atlanta after college graduation in May. Thus, you'd been left to your own devices until now.

Eddie had made the first few weeks of December as festive as possible, surprising you with peppermint hot chocolates and the worst Christmas movies you’d ever seen. You’d begged him for a classic, like Elf or It’s a Wonderful Life, but he’d strategically saved those for the week of Christmas itself. 

Without any explanation, Eddie pulled something out of his tote bag. It was a small box, wrapped in red and white striped wrapping paper with a ridiculously big bow on top.

You scowled at him. “Eddie. No.”

He grinned. “Yes.”

“No!”

“Yes!”

Shaking your head, you stated, “We said no presents.”

An overdramatically apologetic expression filled his face. “My fingers crossed unexpectedly when we said that.”

“That’s very convenient.”

“I thought so, too.”

He was insufferable.

You sighed, raising your hands. “Eddie, I can’t accept it.” Before you could think to move, he grabbed your hand and shoved it into your palm. “It’s already in your hand.”

Groaning, you conceded. “Fine! Fine.”

“Yes!” he exclaimed before shoving his hands behind his back, failing to hide his smile.

Rolling your eyes, you tore the paper and delved inside.

“It’s…oil,” you stated.

Eddie raised his pointer finger, catching your attention. “A very specific kind of oil. Delta-8.”

“Did you give me drugs for Christmas?” you asked.

“There’s no better time.” He wasn’t wrong. “Besides, you’re making that beer cheese and I thought it’d go great.”

“That’s perfect, actually,” you said seriously. “Thank you.”

“No problem.”

“You know, I have a secret.”

Pages ripped from your latest notebook rested in your pocket. Actually, they weren’t exactly restful. They felt quite restless, burning a hole in your pants and your mind. The ink clogged your throat, the words swirling together in your head, preventing any clarity from forming. 

“Which is?”

Here this guy was, your certified best friend standing beside you after a year and a half of silence. His presence in your life came with open arms and a struggle for pure vulnerability. You’d had your moments over the last seven months, what with your pasts coming up and all of the memories that felt like stories the moment they were shared. 

Give it to him, you thought. Come on, do it.

“I actually had all of my toes crossed when we said no presents,” you said finally, fingers reaching toward your back pocket. 

His eyebrows lifted. “That’s very convenient.”

“Yeah, I thought so, too.”

The pads of your fingertips grazed the paper gently before you reached around him to grab a tiny cardboard box resting on your kitchen table.

Coward.

“How did I not notice that?” he asked, taking it from you.

You shrugged. “I’m the master of disguise.”

“Clearly,” he muttered before opening the top of the box slowly. He made a show of it, closing one eye and trying to peer into the darkness. You giggled as soon as he saw what was inside.

“A joint, huh?” You nodded, biting your lip. “All for me?”

“All for you.”

He placed a hand on his chest, giving you a big smile. “That’s extremely heartfelt, sweetheart. Thank you.”

You tried to keep your smile from faltering, that note starting to singe your skin through the denim. 

Give it to him, you thought again. Do it. Do it now.

“Do you want some beer cheese?” you asked.

“Under one condition,” he said, holding up a finger. Your eyebrow quirked up. “You can’t down it like you did last time.”

You scoffed. “Oh, come on! That’s not fair!”

“Those are the rules, Weirdo.”

“Ugh,” you grumbled. “Fine. Come on.”

Eddie had been shocked when you picked him up. Your face was nearly bare, wearing neutral eye shadow fading into a charcoal gray with thin-winged eyeliner and maroon lipstick. It was the first time he’d seen you without eyes completely coated in darkness. 

It was startling.

You were dazzling.

Donning a black turtleneck, jeans, and combat boots, you flitted around your kitchen as you measured how much oil you’d pour into the cheese. 

And, okay. Eddie didn’t mean to look at your ass. Scouts honor. However, you bent down to grab a pot from your cabinet and he couldn’t help but look. He could admire how well your jeans fit you, couldn't he?

In the midst of his perusing, he noticed paper in your back right pocket. He found it curious. It couldn’t have been your grocery list—you’d used your Notes app for that. What were you hiding?

“When do the boys come in?” you asked.

Eddie blinked, tearing his eyes away just in time to meet yours. “Oh, the band?” You nodded before turning the burner on low. “Uh, yeah. They come in at nine-thirty tomorrow.”

“And you’re sure you wanna sleep over tonight?”

He shrugged. “Only if you want to.”

“We’ll see if I get sick of you by then.”

Eddie snorted before moving past you to grab some Pringles from your cabinet. “After my killer present? Nah, I don’t think so, sweetheart.”

“Don’t sweetheart me, mister,” you said playfully before gasping. He jumped back just in time as you thrusted a cheese-covered wooden spoon in his direction. “Damn, Eddie, get your own Pringles! Those are for the party!”

He moved to the back corner of the kitchen, quickly shoving a Pringle in his mouth. As he held the can like it was the Ark of the Covenant, he grinned at you before giving a chip a rather loud crunch.

“That fucking does it!” you exclaimed, leaping towards him.

The two of you fought to claim the Pringles can for yourselves. Eddie couldn’t help but giggle the entire time, loving each touch you shared, even if it was so you could hit him. 

He was grateful he’d met you. There was something extraordinary about the way you fell into each other, effortless in nature. The hesitation you once held with one another had dethawed, replaced with a promise that you’d catch each other when you fell. Even now, after you nearly slipped onto the floor.

Eddie caught you, arm scooping under your waist just in time before your head met the tile.

Maybe there was a time and a place to say how he felt. Maybe it could be today or tomorrow after the party. Christmas morning or New Year’s Eve. But when he gazed into your bewildered eyes, he reflected on everything you’d opened up to him about over the last seven months. The pain, the betrayal. You needed a friend, not another messy situation that would ultimately hurt you. 

So, for now, he focused on the here and now. And by the end of the night, he’d solve the case of the mysterious note.

The south didn’t do snow. 

It was a made up concept, some nearly forgotten folklore created when a hint of ice formed along mountainsides and frozen faucets. When it came to winter, the grass resembled wheat and the spindly trees towered above the cities. 

And there you were with Eddie, out on your tiny balcony as you had your nightly cigarette and waited for spiked cheese to kick in.

Eddie had been rambling about a few lines of his latest song that he couldn’t quite make right, needing a better word than beaming that still held two syllables.

You’d stared out at the street, but something happened the moment you looked back at him. He was leaning against the railing, going back and forth from placing his unlit cigarette between his teeth and removing it so he could talk. Your gaze fell to his lips, watching his constant back and forth.

For a moment, perhaps in a trick of the light, an image flashed in your mind. Eddie on his knees, hands curling around your thick thighs, smirking up at you with a look of mischief. His eyes, alight with darkness that swirled into something magnificent before dipping his head under your skirt and pressing a kiss against your— 

Then it was gone, replaced with Eddie’s final attempt to put the cigarette between his teeth and light the damn thing. The second he let out his first wave of smoke, you felt your breath hitch in your throat.

Because you were starting to think about his mouth around something else.

“Flaring?” he pondered, taking another thoughtful drag. 

The chill of forty degree weather did nothing to stop the fire rushing to your core. His unoccupied hand bounced along the railing as he thought. There was a crude kind of desire in you to grab it and place it against the ache, relieving the tension that was starting to twist inside you.

“Flooding?” 

The wetness sat in your underwear, diabolically abandoned by the man in front of you who continued rambling on. The wind rustled his hair, sending wisps into his mouth that he had to pull away. Why weren’t your fingers tugging at the strands, claiming his lips with your own?

Your impulse control felt, well, out of control. 

“Surging?”

The racing of your heart was made worse the harder you pulled on that cigarette, the clouds you created only growing. But there was an emotion billowing in that smoke, signaling to you that something had shifted.

You had shifted, as quickly as the season. 

Seven months. Three seasons.

Not nearly enough time to catch your bearings or build a stable foundation. However, you were starting to notice more and more that there was something else hiding behind every sleepover and good morning text. 

This was an awakening.

An awakening that was surely going to ruin everything.

But when he asked what you thought of blazing instead of beaming, your heart fluttered and you answered without hesitation, “It’s perfect.”

Eddie watched with amusement as you floundered over the kitchen table like a fish, definitely feeling the effects of the beer cheese. You were starting to look like an inflatable balloon man on his final wave.

“We…” you trailed, holding up your pointer finger. “Weeee need to put up decorations.”

He laughed, leaning over to boop you on the nose. “Yooou need a timeout, Weirdo.”

You let out a sound resembling a growl. “Noooo.”

“Did you just growl at me?” he asked.

Shrugging, you poked him repeatedly before letting out another growl. “Bark, bark,” you said, lowering the pitch of your voice. “Hiss, hiss.”

“You’re fucked, sweetheart,” he commented, grabbing your finger and placing it back on the table.

Your eyes widened slightly before you snorted and waved your hand around. “Get your head out of the gutter, Munson.”

Before he could respond, your fingers were moving back to him, snatching his hand and holding it firmly. Seemingly without thought, you brought it up to your mouth and pretended to bite him. Eddie tried to yank it back, but you were surprisingly strong, lips hovering over his skin.

In a quick flicker, Eddie found himself lost in an image of your teeth clamping down on his throat, wrists caught in your grasp as you pinned him to your bed. You, grinding your hips against his in a frenzy, chasing friction as he bucked in an attempt to reach the same release. 

What he wouldn’t give for you to draw blood.

“Oh, so now you’re a vampire?” he asked with a cough, trying not to let the pink meet his cheeks. Or his poor dick.  

Without a word, you gave him a smirk and bit him.

Eddie jumped with a yelp, almost knocking his chair over if it hadn’t been for your death grip.

You let out one of the loudest guffaws he’d ever heard, warming his heart as he settled back into his wobbly chair. He couldn’t help but laugh along, but he unfortunately couldn’t keep his cock from getting hard.

What was it about you that drove him fucking insane?

“You’re so easy to freak out,” you said with a toothy smile, running your thumb over the bite mark you’d left behind.

Or just easy to turn on, he thought.

In the minutes that passed, you sat in silence, mutually gentle as you enjoyed your shared high. He studied your mark on him, the curve of each individual tooth imprinted on the skin between his thumb and pointer finger. If only he could keep it from returning to normal. 

If only he could tell you how he felt.

“You’re holding my hand,” he observed quietly.

“Oh! Sorry,” you replied softly. But you didn’t release your grasp.

Eddie chuckled, face growing hot as he tried his hand at bravery. “You’re all good. It’s cute.”

“Cute?” you asked, lifting your head from the table. 

He shrugged. “Yeah, I’d say so.”

“I like your hand. It’s warm,” you mumbled. Your tracing became languid, slow and gentle.

“Yeah?” His breath was starting to go ragged, entirely blown away by your forward nature. Of course, he knew it was because of the weed. That’s all it was to you. But, to him, it meant everything. He never wanted you to stop.

You nodded. “Yeah. It feels really nice. Softer than I expected.”

Then a thought bloomed.

“Can I ask you a very stupid question?”

“Always.”

The knuckles on his unoccupied hand drummed against the table as he asked, “What’s in your back pocket?”

Your head snapped up. “Eddie…”

“Is it bad?” You avoided his gaze. “You’re making it sound like a ransom note or nuclear codes.”

“No, that’s not…” you trailed before sighing. “That’s not it.”

Eddie watched as you deflated, shoulders hunching forward. What was going on?

“Then what is it?”

You barely gave him a glance before averting your gaze again. “I wrote you a note but I’m too scared to give it to you.”

“Why?”

“It’s cheesy.” Your hand retreated from his, leaving his palm to freeze instantly. “But sometimes if I’m not sure what to do for presents, I like to write notes. It’s just, after a while, I decided not to give it to you.”

“You could read it to me.”

Scoffing, your tone grew sarcastic. “Read it? Right. Sure.”

“Come on, Weirdo.” You bit your lip. “Do it for the spirit of Christmas.”

“Absolutely not.”

“If not for Santa, then for me.”

That’s when he finally found your eyes, pooling with indecision. 

Without a word, you stood up and pulled the paper out of your back pocket.

“Eddie,” you started, sending flutters to his chest immediately. “I know that we haven’t been friends for a year yet, but you’re probably the best friend I’ve ever had.” He watched you take a deep breath, desperate to see what was settling in your eyes. “I don’t say this to put pressure on you, but to tell you that your…” another deep breath, “friendship has changed my life.”

Your glossy eyes lifted. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“I can’t finish this,” you replied. 

Eddie felt his heart crumble the second you crushed the paper between your fingers. He jumped up immediately, quick to try and grab the note. 

“Hey, don’t do that,” he whispered, shaking his head. You took a step back, mirroring his action. “Come on, it’s not stupid. I wanna know what else you have to say.”

“It’s cheesy.”

“It’s genuine.”

He went to take it again, but you moved your hand away.

“It’s unoriginal.”

“It’s authentic.”

One more attempt at snagging the note resulted in you taking three steps back. “I hate Christmas,” you whispered. Out of the corner of his eye, Eddie found your hands shaking. “I can’t control the passage of time and whether you’re going to be here next year or not. What if I give this to you and then in six months you realize how stupid I am and you just go?”

He said your name gently, but you shook your head.

“I can see it now, you know? You’ll find the note lodged in some pocket somewhere and wonder how it got there. And you’ll be so livid that you’ll go and set it on fire and light your cigarette with the flame.”

Before you could continue your dark forebodings, Eddie fingers wrapped around your trembling, tight-knuckled fist. The contact set him ablaze as he felt the tension build. Here you two were, connected by a bittersweet tug of war.

“Hey,” he whispered, trying to keep his voice steady. But how could he? You were searching his eyes, crestfallen and confused. He could say the same for himself. “I know it sucks to open up to people you don’t know are gonna stay.”

He heard the catch in your breath before tears fell down your cheeks.

“I’m here to stay,” he said, more confident now. “You’re not sick of me yet, are you?”

You suddenly chuckled, shaking your head as you wiped your tears away. “Anything but.”

“Then there’s nothing to worry about, okay?” You nodded, tucking your crimson lips inward, disappearing into your mouth as if you were ridding yourself of speech for his sake. “Let this Christmas be this Christmas.”

“Okay.”

“And then we’ll get super cross-faded tomorrow night and then we’ll get cross-faded on New Year’s—” A watery laugh rippled through you, piercing the air and his heart. Finally, his favorite sound. “Then we’ll just keep going and figure shit out along the way. Sound cool?”

“Yeah. Sounds cool.”

Eddie didn’t know what to do next, refusing to think before he enveloped you in a tight hug. Your arms quickly squeezed him back, exchanging heartbeats under thick sweaters.

“You know what?” Eddie asked, resting his chin on your head. “I think you’ve earned a good holiday movie.”

“Which is?” you asked, voice muffled in his shirt.

The edges of Eddie’s lips quirked up as he said, “When Harry Met Sally.”

[cringe--is--dead]

✩⁺₊✩☽⋆𝕾𝖑𝖊𝖎𝖌𝖍 𝕽𝖎𝖉𝖊⋆☾✩⁺₊✩

✩⁺₊✩☽⋆𝕾𝕯𝖁!𝕾𝖍𝖆𝖓𝖊 𝖝 𝕽𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗⋆☾✩⁺₊✩

The soft sound of crunching show beneath your boots was the only sound that filled the quiet, calm afternoon air. You finished up the final of the few chores you had, your crops didn’t need as much tending to now that winter had settled over the valley, and your animals tended to want to stay in their barns, warm and cozy. The shorter days had everyone, even yourself, feeling more lethargic, more calm. The trees were rather bare in your orchard, and before the snowfall you had felt saddened by the sight, but the farm now looked almost like a winter wonderland; some type of painting you got to live in. Surveying the area, you let out a sigh to yourself, ready to turn in for the rest of the day. Maybe you’d make some hot chocolate, or eggnog, read a few of the books Leah loaned you. As you made your way up your porch you heard a call of your name.

“Hi!” You turned, seeing Jas running across your farm, wrapped in a thick, knitted scarf, her mittens danging from the sleeves of her jacket, chubby cheeks red from the cold. She was grinning, eyes sparkling as she crew closer to you.

“Jas?” You smiled at her, waiting for her to grow closer, her little arms wrapping around your waist, “What are you doing over here?”

She squeezed you, grinning up against you, “Do you wanna go on a sleigh ride with me and Shane?”

The question almost caught you off guard. A sleigh ride? You glanced around at the snow, it was thick enough to move a sleigh around you suppose. It also sounded rather fun. You and Shane had been dancing around each other for the first year you had moved here, after you began breaking through his rough exterior, but even with all your flirting and teasing, you hadn’t pegged him the type of guy to indulge in winter festivities. You raised an eyebrow down at her. 

“A sleigh ride huh?”

She nodded enthusiastically, “Yeah! He promised me he’d take me for a sleigh ride today, and he said you could come!” She paused, as if rethinking your words, “Well I asked if you could come, but then his face got all red and then milk came out of his nose! Aunt Marnie told him to calm down and sent me to come get you.” 

You tried to stifle the laugh at the image of Shane choking on a cup of milk, coughing so hard it came out of his nose. Looking down at Jas, arms still wrapped around you, her enthusiasm was palpable. Her little face was hard to resist, once you had become her friend she had grown pretty attached to you. Your blossoming… whatever it was with Shane seemed to help that too.

"Alright," you agreed, chuckling softly, brushing off some stray snowflakes from her eyelashes, "I’ll come. But only because you asked so nicely." 

"Yay!" Jas beamed, bouncing on her toes, pulling back from where she had been holding you, "I’ll go tell Shane you’re coming!" 

With that she ran off, waving as she went. You smiled, feeling more excited and awake than you had before. You and Shane had hung out before, you and Jas had hung out, hell, you and Marnie had hung out, but you’d never gone out with Shane and Jas together. For some reason that idea made you nervous. Through everything Shane had gone through, you knew how much he loved Jas, how much he wanted only good things for her, even if he wasn’t sure how to do it. Months ago, before Shane had been working on getting sober, you two had been drinking at the beach, trying to keep quiet as to not annoy Elliot. He had confessed that, if you two started dating officially, you’d be the first real relationship he’d had in years.

“I didn’t trust my judgement for the longest time,” He took a swig from his beer, staring out at the calm waters, “I didn’t wanna date some asshole and have them be awful to Jas. She’s been through enough.”

He turned to you, and without his constant nagging anxiety, he smiled at you, soft and sirene, “But she adores you. I do too, if you’re willing to wait.”

That night sold the deal for you, and though he may only remember bits and pieces of your conversation, he knew that whatever happened changed the tides of your relationship. After changing into less work oriented winter clothes, you made your way to meet the duo. The family of raccoons that had made a home between your farms was no where to be seen, more than likely curled up and warm. 

Shane was already outside, petting and brushing the horse he seemed to have chosen for the night. Rocky, you were reminded, one of the horses Shane had helped care for since he was a little fawn. Shane was clad in his winter gear, though he seemed to be more put together than he had been last winter. It was a good look on him. Hearing the crunching of your boots, he turned, the relaxed look on his face lifting, corners of his mouth twitching upwards, his eyes crinckling.

“I didn’t think you’d be coming,” He called out in way of greeting, amusement clear in his voice, though he seemed relieved as well.

You grinned, getting close enough to let Rocky sniff at you curiously, “Well, Jas made a rather compelling case. Something about milk?”

Though his cheeks were already red from the cold, you could tell they deepened in shade at your words. Flustered, his gaze turned back to Rocky, “Oh shut it.”

You grinned, more teasing words on the tip of your tongue, but you were stopped as Jas leaned out from the sleigh, a slight pout on her face, “Come on you two! Aunt Marnie says she’ll make hot chocolate when we get back!” 

Shane rolled his eyes playfully as you chuckled, both moving to climb in the sleigh. Shane grabbed a blanket before you could hop in, draping it over your shoulders, “To stay warm,” He said, trying to shrug it off as he helped you climb in. 

Jas scooted over, excitement in her movements as she made room for the two of you. Her mittens were on, scarf wrapped tighter around her, and you assume Marnie had adjusted her outfit for her. Shane followed in after, the reins in his hands. As he climbed in, he sat close to you, your sides pressed against each other, and the feeling had warmth spreading through your body.

“You two ready?” He asked quietly, the look on his face soft as you glanced over.

“Yes!” Jas cried out, clearly impatient that you all had yet to move.

He chuckled, turning his eyes forward as he got Rocky to start moving. It was quiet as you three moved about slowly, the lake frozen over, the trees still, animals asleep and quiet. The valley looked magical with all the snow, and you almost wanted to hold you breath, afraid any noise was be too much. Jas, however, let out a happy laugh, trying to goad Shane into making Rocky move a bit faster. He complied without complaint, and she cried out in victory, face glowing. 

“This is so much fun!” You were moving for a few more minutes before she called out for you all to stop, scrambling to climb out of the sleigh.

“Stay close!” Shane calle, helping her onto her feet, the two of you following, leaning against the cart as she ran around, throwing handfuls of snow into the air.

“I don’t think I’ve been on a sleigh ride since I was a kid,” You pulled the blanket around you tighter, smiling as Jas fell back to start making snow angels.

“This is the first time I’ve taken her on a sleigh ride,” Shane admitted, adjusting his beanie, “Her parents and I… we used to do this when we were younger. Add in some fire ball hot chocolate and bad horror stories, and it was a regular Saturday night for us.”

He so rarely brought up the topic of her parents, and you stayed quiet, not wanting to interrupt whatever he was thinking of as he watched Jas continue to play, throwing half-made snowballs at the bushes.

“I was too much of a mess every winter after she started living with me to bring her here,” He leaned against you, moving so his head was against your shoulder, and you let him, leaning your head ontop of his, “I’m really happy I can do this for her now. And I’m really happy you came with us.”

You felt warm at his words, so many emotions flowing through you. It was taking a lot of strength not to just kiss him, the two of you refraining from PDA in front of Jas until you not only made things official, but talked to her about your relationship as well.

Though you suspected she had some idea, kids were smarter than they were given credit for.

“I’m glad I could come as well,” You spoke softly, and Shane hummed, “Even if it made you choke on your milk.”

“Okay,” He pulled back, standing up straight, but there was laughter in his voice, “You can pretend she never told you that.”

“Hmm, I don’t know, seemed pretty important to me,” Before you could continue teasing him, a snowball came flying your way, soft and small, but pelting you in the shoulder.

“Wha-” You ducked, another snowball sailing and hitting the sleigh, laughter bubbling from you, “Jas!” 

She giggled uncontrollably from the snow, and Shane snorted. 

“It’s a full on snowball war with her,” He said, a sly grin growing on his face, his tone still light, “She pelts poor Vincent every winter. You’ll have to try hard if you wanna win.” 

You turned to him, meeting his gaze for a split secent, before turning back to where Jas was peeking from around a bush, smile still on her face, a snowball in her hand. You reached down to the snow, forming a loose ball in your hand.

“Alright,” You stood up, aiming for the bush in front of Jas, but before you could throw it, another snowball hit you from the back, straight from Shane.

Mouth parted, you turned to him with faux shock, “Really, Shane? You too?”

Shane was grinning now, a full smile, teeth on display as he laughed, “Told you, if you wanna win you gotta try harder.”

Turns out he was true when calling it a snowball war, the three of you pelting each other with snowballs. The quietness was replaced with laughter, the three of you shrieking in delight whenever you’d get hit. At one point Shane picked Jas up, flipping her upside down and holding her in the air, her laughter dissolving into breathless cackles as you started throwing snowballs at Shane, declaring you’d save her. Eventually, the energy died down as you all began to feel and realize how cold you’d gotten, Jas’ teeth chattering as she denied being cold. 

You piled her back into the sleigh, wrapping the blanket around her and holding her close. You and Shane were stilled pressed against each other, him steering Rocky back to Marnie’s place, a slow and steady pace. Jas, though she tried to fight it, ended up falling asleep in your lap, the excitement and long day catching up to her.

“That was… fun,” Shane spoke, so quiet you almost didn’t hear him.

You smiled, sighing with content, “Yeah. It was.”

“I am glad you came with us.”

“Me too,” You two were keeping your voices quiet, “I know I can’t replace your memories with her parents, and I would never want to, but maybe we can start some new winter traditions with Jas, if you’d want.”

He snorted, “Maybe without being pelted by snowballs every year,” He was smiling as he spoke, his eyes so soft you could feel your heartbeat quicken, warmth spreading from your chest, “But I’d like that.”

A/N: concernedape PLEASE let Jas move in with you when you marry Shane, she's his goddaughter!!!

[bangaveragewhitewine]

maybe it ain't so bad

Bouncer!Eddie Munson x Bartender!Reader (established relationship) - Part of Happy Hours

Your boyfriend doesn’t like Christmas much. Inside his huge soft heart, he carries the memories of Christmases good and bad. After this year, the first Christmas you will actually get to spend together, he might feel a little warmer towards the Holidays…

Word Count 4.4k

Contents / Warnings | 18+ | Eddie & Reader are in their mid/late twenties | Loss of a parent, mention of child neglect and abuse | No explicit sex, nonetheless this is an 18+ fic - making out on the sofa, brief choking mention, Eddie’s love of hickies, being horny and in love, mentions of sex and post-sex softness, ‘slut’ as a term of endearment | No physical descriptions of reader; the image used in the header is not indicative of Bartender Reader in this series

Note I missed our metalhead bouncer boyfriend. I tried and tried not to make this sad or angsty. A quick moment to say thank you for all the love over the last sixish months while I have been writing and sharing my work. It’s a joy, truly! Have a cosy holiday season, sweet angels!!! ❤️❤️❤️

Christmas, 1992 

Eddie Munson didn’t care for Christmas.

A long time had passed since the last Christmas with his Mom, but each year the scabbed-over wound inside him tore and stung and bled just a little more around the Holidays. 

It might be more accurate to say then that Eddie Munson did not let himself care for Christmas. It hurt him to care about it, to remember the good ones and the bad ones with his mother, so he tried to just not care. 

When he closed his eyes, he could still see the coloured string lights wound around the shitty plastic tree, glinting against baubles that had seen better days. He could feel her hands holding his much smaller ones as they danced together to Christmas records, the way she held him safe and steady to place the star on top of the tree. The shininess of it all had pulled his attention from her pilled and threadbare sweaters and the bruise-like bags beneath her eyes. The festive earworms drowned out her tearful phone calls to her parents for some extra cash to make sure Eddie would have a present from Santa beneath the tree this year, and her promises that her no-good-husband would see a penny of it.

As he watches you hanging shiny-and-new decorations on the branches of the small fir in the corner of your shared living room, humming to music only you could hear, he could not help but think of her. It hurt, but the smile that spread across your face when you caught him watching soothed his soul just a little bit.

“Hi, handsome.” 

Your voice and that cosy greeting, the eye-sparkling smile you wear when he comes home to you, feels like stepping into a warm bath every single time. It’s a hug before you even open your arms to him.

You watch him unwind his scarf and shake out his frosted curls once his jacket has been hung on its peg. His boots are slipped off and left to pick up later. 

“How’d it go?”

Eddie stares at the shiny ornament hanging between your fingers on gold thread, lost somewhere in his head or hypnotised by the way it caught the light until you call his name again. 

“Sorry, yeah. Went good. You’ve been busy…”

While Eddie was teaching his last guitar lesson before the Holidays, you had draped the tree with shiny bright lights and made a start on the baubles, hanging them extra-slowly in the hope that your boyfriend might want to help when he got home. Neither of you had work tonight, scheduled off synchronously as a little reward for working Christmas Eve.

“You wanna help?” you ask, a glimmer of hope in your eyes, even as you readied yourself for rejection.

You knew his feelings about Christmas - not just his capitalist hellscape rant that came out whenever someone asked if he was looking forward to the holidays, but you knew the deep emotional pain he carried as another year passed without her. Every year the taste of her cinnamon-spiced sugar cookies and the scent of her perfume, that special Mom Smell, faded more in his memories.

For the first Christmas you would actually spend together as a couple, you wanted it to be special and cosy. You wanted Eddie to feel comfortable and safe, not like a prisoner bound in tinsel as you forced him to watch Miracle on 34th Street or How the Grinch Stole Christmas! (though he did have a soft spot for the green guy). A lazy few days cocooned in your apartment, a nice no-fuss dinner and quality time together. It helped too that you could pick up the Christmas Eve shift in the bar instead of travelling out of the state to sit at home with your families and miss each other, count the days until you hopped back on the plane to O’Hare, and pray that Eddie would drive safe on the icy roads around Hawkins. 

The decorations had been a compromise; Eddie never usually bothered and you liked to spend at least half a day making your home look like a festive explosion. A deal had been made on a small tree with a few lights.

You looked at that tree now, its small and slightly wonky stature had charmed you. Eddie’s staring at it too and you can see a glimpse of the broken boy Eddie once was; it makes your heart hurt. 

“Is it too much? I can stop…” Your voice is quiet.

Eddie shakes his head and plasters on a smile for you that makes your chest ache, before rounding the sofa on socked feet to press a kiss to your head and squeeze you around the middle.

His nose is cold from being outside. That fresh scent of bright winter air clings to him and slowly melts away inside the warm flat you share. 

“Looks great.” Eddie picks up a random red bauble. “Where does this one go?”

“Wherever you want it to go. Just look for the bare spots.” 

You tamp down any fizzing excitement that he’s taking an interest, then feel guilty that you are thinking of him like he’s a wild animal who is easily spooked. 

Eddie brings you back to reality, just like always.

“You gonna move it later when I’m not looking?” he asks, brows raising beneath his bangs as you loop your ornament on a branch. 

That ‘I know you too well for your cute lies, babe’ look he gave you made your cheeks feel warm. It was close to his ‘you’re pushin’ it and you’re being a brat on purpose’ look. That one was fun.

“Only if it’s too close to another red.”

He had seen you and Michelle in full-festive-flight when you decorated the bar every year; every year he braved the cold of the beer cellar or the back alley to stay well out of your way lest he be roped into a squabble on the placement of some stupid garland. 

Not fully convinced, Eddie zeroes in a bare spot (not too near to another red ball) and slips it over the branch with less practiced precision. It’s perfect.

You lean over to smack a kiss on your boyfriend’s cheek. “You’re a natural, Teddy.” 

His arm slips and winds around your waist, squeezing the squish of your hips before he presses his lips to your head. “Do I get a reward?” 

Eddie’s touch and the low timbre of his voice stoke the cosy glow in your body into something more fiery and exciting. His fingers skate along the waistband of your sweatpants, tracing up beneath your (his) hoodie. He knows exactly what he’s doing. 

Two can play that game.

“For one little bauble? I’m not that easy, Munson.” 

It pains you to pull yourself away but the warmth and hunger in his gaze feeds your ego and the flame in your gut. 

“I don’t know what I’m doing, I need you to show me.” His fingers reach out to grab the empty space between you. 

Your eyes roll as you crouch to pick up two more baubles.

“Gimme a kiss for every decoration I put on then?” Eddie suggested, “I’ll keep tally.”

A slow smile makes its way onto your face and you nod. “That could be arranged. Don’t half-ass it though, they’ll fall off if they’re not on properly.” Your eyes narrow in warning, “I’ll bite you instead of kiss you if you half-ass it.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, honey,” Eddie smirks and takes both baubles from you - one gold, one pink - and hangs them on his fingers, strategically dangling them right over his nipples. He gets the exact reaction he was hoping for - an eye-roll and that smile you do when you try not to laugh at his silliness. That smile that had made him fall for you.

“And you know my motto - full ass or no ass at all. No half-assin’ around here.” 

Before you can make a smart comment about his flat ass, Eddie takes his time to thoughtfully hang the ornaments in two bare spots and surveys his work with a quietly-pleased hum. You could imagine what he was like as a kid, bargaining for an extra cookie once the tree was decorated, or an extra bedtime story. You didn’t hang any more decorations in favour of watching him work for a few moments, the colourful glow of the lights on his pale skin. 

He catches you staring and softens, winks at you as he picks two more baubles up. One for you, one for him. 

After passing the gold string between your fingers, you press a bonus-kiss to Eddie’s lips before finishing off your first tree together. Neither of you acknowledges with words how special it is, but it’s there. You squabble playfully when you get in each other’s way or when Eddie slaps your ass while he’s reaching for the snowman ornament you have had since you were a kid. 

You had accumulated a little collection of retro Christmas decorations in thrift shops over the years - pretty vintage baubles and kitschy ornaments, a few random or weird tchotchkes. A purchase from last year - a glittery skull wearing a Santa hat - earned instant approval from Eddie and pride of place on the tree. That one had caught your eye a few months after you two had started dating.

When the box of ornaments runs out, you take a step back and pull Eddie’s arm to join you. 

“You like it?” Your voice is quiet and careful as your cheek rests against the softness his sweater.

“Pretty,” Eddie says, just as quiet. His arms wind around you and hold you against his chest, starting a slow rock from foot to foot.

“Can I give you something?” you ask, voice muffled against his chest.

Eddie’s brows shoot up, a flirty look in his eyes. “Oh? You can give me whatever you want, babydoll.”

That wolfish grin of his still made you feel tingly all over, even as you rolled your eyes at him.

“It’s for the tree. Cool it, Romeo.” 

You pay this kiss-tax to be freed from the cosiness of his arms and slip into the bedroom for just a second. It is enough time for Eddie to edit a few baubles like it’s second nature to him, swapping out colours that are too close to each other and filling gaps until you arrive with a box. He has forgotten that he used to watch his mother do the same thing while he was content with his oven-warm cookies and cold milk on the couch.

You pass the box to Eddie. “It’s not really a gift. It’s for both of us.”

“Is it lingerie?” His brows raise, hopefully suggestive, as he smooths a finger over the lovingly slapped-on bow. Lingerie has certainly proven itself to be quite the mutual gift over the last year. His mind wanders to that last deep purple set you bought, and he can feel himself starting to drool.

“Eddie, just open it. You’re going to be so disappointed, it’s lame…”

At the talk of lingerie, you are acutely aware that you are currently dressed in sweats and one of his hoodies. In a funny sort of way, you know that the cosy combo does it for Eddie as much as lace and satin. The every-horny-for-your-boyfriend part of your brain considers wrapping yourself up in a big red bow for him. He would like that far too much.

He feigns coolness as he pulls the lid off and you push your unhinged thoughts away.

Inside, wrapped in crinkly red tissue paper, are two things - a matte black bauble with your initials curling together in shiny red calligraphy. Beside it, a small silver frame ornament with a candid snap of Eddie and you from Thanksgiving just passed, the one you spent in Hawkins with Wayne and his girlfriend. You’re perched on his lap, arms looped around his neck, smiling and very clearly obsessed with each other.

“I just thought we could... We could start our own traditions. Little things.” You speak into the quietness of the room as Eddie stares into the box. You murmur to yourself when he doesn’t answer, “You didn’t even want a tree, it’s so stupid.”

“Stop that.” Eddie’s frown is serious. “My girlfriend isn’t stupid. How dare you.” 

“But you don’t even like Christmas… It’s kinda stu-”

“Don’t. It’s fuckin’ thoughtful as fuck.” Eddie smiles softly at the ornaments, a warm feeling spreading in his chest. “You’re too cute, baby.” 

Pressing a smiling kiss to your lips, Eddie could feel himself beginning to soften. Maybe this Christmas thing would not be so bad this year…

Christmas with Wayne was always low-key - some years his Uncle took a shift at the plant and they exchanged thoughtfully practical presents like new guitar strings or picks, a book or an album, novelty mugs and new baseball caps or shirts. 

Wayne was not so fond of Christmas either. It reminded him of his heavy-handed drunk of a father, and the anxiety-inducing unanswered phone calls to his idiot brother’s house after Elizabeth died. It reminded him of finding his nephew alone in a cold house on Christmas Day, without a tree or dinner when Al forgot to come home. The kid didn’t have a single present to open from Santa. 

When Eddie moved to the trailer with him, too wise to the big bad world to be so easily distracted by shiny things, Wayne made sure there was a present for Eddie every single year, a meal and some company - even if the kid didn’t want it, even if Eddie screamed and threw a fit until he sobbed himself silent because he was just a little boy who missed his Mama…

Now, in the cocoon of your home together, Eddie's smile brims with child-like innocence, touched by the weight of wanting to start your own traditions together. You knew you were it for each other, but the little reminder of how much you meant it makes him glow.

He puts the box down and cups your face, pressing kisses everywhere he can reach. “God, I’m so in love with you,” he growls like a happy demon, making you laugh. 

Contently trapped against his body, soft and lean in all the right places, you release the breath you had been holding as Eddie studies the contents of the gift box again. 

“Look at these! I need this picture for my wallet. I need like, six copies,” he murmurs, “Have you ever seen a hotter couple?” Eddie brushes his thumb over the velvety loop of ribbon to hang it on the tree. “We need this for our grandkids, baby.” 

“Laurel took it. I’ll get you another copy.” Your face hurts from smiling as he kisses your cheek again. Wayne’s girlfriend was fond of you both, particularly Eddie.

“And this? Fuckin’ gothic as hell, I love it.” He strokes the intertwined initials before putting the box down to hug you just a shade off too tight. Nuzzling your noses together, he asks, “Where are we going to hang ‘em?”

“Front and centre?” you suggested, shrugging a little. “We could move that one…”

“Creepy Santa?”

“Banish him to the back of the tree. Begone, creep.”

Eddie chokes a laugh and muttered, “I love when you say nerdy shit, baby,” before unwinding his arms from around you to banish Creepy Santa.

“My boyfriend is a huge nerd, I can’t help it,” you tease.

After some careful re-arranging, the two new additions take pride of place on your tree. Eddie’s tongue had stuck out in concentration as he balanced them both so carefully; you wished you had your camera to capture the moment, not that you would ever forget it. 

You are wrapped up in his arms again once you agree on the placement, nose to nose as Eddie tells you how much he loves you again. The little noise he makes when you slip your hands into his back pockets hits low in your gut.

“You saving those kisses you earned or cashing them in, hot stuff?” you ask, tracing his jaw with the tip of your nose.

Eddie’s teeth flash in the low light; the room is shadowy and warm in the glow of string lights and a dim lamp in the corner. 

“Oh, I’m saving them up, princess. Might claim one or two right now, but the rest are staying with me. Got a pocketful of IOUs for kisses.”

You press your face against his shoulder, smiling. “That’s so ominous, Teddy.” 

“Next time you’re mad at me? Kiss token. When you’re too busy with stupid chores to take my human right to be kissed seriously? Pucker the fuck up, pretty girl.” 

You love him all ways, but especially like this; playful and fun, flirting hard with you. Eddie’s using his voice in a way you know comes from years of playing DnD, and a stint in the drama club at school. He’s in-your-face-flirty, never subtle. This is the man who punched someone for you before you were even dating; there’s nothing subtle about Eddie Munson. 

No, there’s absolutely nothing subtle about Eddie as his hips press forward against yours and he directs your mouth to his, cashing in the first of those kisses. He smiles when you chase him for more. You pull him closer, your hands on that flat ass of his, and sigh when his tongue licks across your bottom lip. 

“That’s one,” he whispers. 

He cups your warm cheek, his pinky stroking your pulse point. He can feel your blood pump quicker when his breath breezes over your mouth, like the hard beating of butterfly wings that he feels too. Eddie likes how they have not gone away yet for either of you; over a year together and no sign of migration. He hopes they never leave.

“M’not counting. Just kiss me,” you whisper, a little whiney and needier than you had realised now that you are pressed up against him with nowhere else to be. 

Never one to leave you hanging (unless that was part of the game you were playing), Eddie kisses you like a man starved. He craves that gasping whimper only he can pull from your throat, the flutter of your lashes when your tongues slide together. 

You shiver when his chilly fingers slip up beneath your sweatshirt, palm flat to the small of your back - the part he likes to see arched when he takes you from behind. 

Your lips buzz where they press against Eddie’s; the electricity passing between you makes you glow like Christmas lights. 

Eddie can tell your brain is still working too hard and brings his hand to your throat; not squeezing but his touch just enough to bring you back to him. It makes you keen for him. A reminder of something you both want to try, but not before you work up to it and do a little more research.

“Okay?” he checks, kissing the corner of your mouth. He watches your eyes go dark, swallowed up by your pupils in the dim light. 

“Mhm,” you murmur, tilting your chin just enough to graze your lips against Eddie’s.

He blesses you with an all-too-brief kiss, knowing you need and want more. He backs up a few steps, taking you with him to sit on the couch. Sitting there, thighs spread and waiting, the way he looks up at you makes you clench. You take your place in his lap and spend a moment slowing it all down again, forehead to forehead with Eddie’s hands stroking your hips. 

“I love you,” he whispers, the words tickling your lips. 

“I know. Love you,” you murmur back, pulling back enough to look into his eyes. You thumb the tired crescent beneath it, skating along his smiling cheek. 

When he looks at you, it makes your heart beat double time; it’s not just the lust darkening his eyes, but pure adoration. 

You cross your arms to wriggle out of the hoodie, stripped down to a cotton cami and a bra that had been relegated to comfy-wear-only. Eddie thinks you are a goddess, and he is completely and utterly down-bad for you. The glow of the Christmas tree behind you makes you look like some sort of angel.

“Gorgeous,” he murmurs. His hands run up your sides and down again, pulling you in closer onto his lap. You can feel him beneath the layers of sweatpants and denim. 

You lean into him again for another kiss, melting against Eddie’s warm chest when his hands begin to wander. He kisses you, his tongue twisted with yours as he takes his time. There is no rush this evening, no need to get off quick before your shift. 

Without the deadline, you draw it out - kissing slow, hands wandering to squeeze and tease, hips rolling and grinding together hot and hard beneath the layers. You give extra attention to that spot on Eddie’s neck that makes him go cross-eyed, dragging your teeth over the little bruise he can hide beneath his hair (but he won’t because he’s a menace and a bit of a slut). 

You pull off his black sweater - the one that hugs his arms and makes his waist look biteable - and kiss along the neckline of his tank top. Your fingers push at it and his silver chain when they get in the way of another bruise-making kiss that makes Eddie swear under his breath. 

“Baby, fuck.” 

He grunts quietly when you push your hips together again, attempting to relieve some of the building ache between your thighs. 

“Mm, that’s the plan,” you whisper, smiling against his collarbone when he chokes on his own throaty laugh. 

When you look up at him there is a dusty pink flush across his cheeks. You watch his jaw drop just a fraction when your breath casts over the damp kisses you left on his neck. When your thumb catches purposefully on his nipple there’s a quiet ‘fuck’ that tumbles from his tongue. 

As his ability to be patient wanes, Eddie catches your lips again and slowly guides you to lie back against the sofa cushions.

“You drive my crazy,” he whispers, brushing back the hair that had fallen around your face. He kisses you again, a whisper of teeth against your lip before your tongues meet in a filthy kiss.

You make space for him between your legs, lying chest to chest as close as possible without opening up your chest and letting him crawl inside, without physically melting together to become one. You lose yourself in each other, bathed in the warm light of the tree.

“You didn’t do a star. Or an angel, angel. Do you have one?” Eddie’s jeans and belt are undone around his hips as he sits with your feet in his lap, pulled back on to smoke out the window.

“I got distracted before I could put it up.” You wiggle your toes against his thigh, yelping when he runs his fingertips over the sole. You shove it beneath his leg, safe and warm away from his tickling fingers. “I have one. It’s in that bag.” 

Back in your (Eddie’s) hoodie and your underwear, you point him toward the busted-around-the-edges gift bag left forgotten by the stereo. “You wanna put it up?”

Eddie smells warm and smokey when he leans in for a kiss, a tinge of sweat lingering after making love to you. He still has his warm pink-cheeked glow and proudly wears the bruises from your sweet mouth, the red marks left by your fingernails on his back. 

Three pecks later, he stands with a groan more befitting a man of his uncle’s age and picks up the bag. You watch him stare at the contents, an unreadable look on his face as he lifts it out.

Your star is kitschy as hell, gold with little tinsel pom-poms on the pointy edges and definitely older than both of you. It’s not to everyone’s taste, a little tacky perhaps, but that was part of its charm. When it caught your magpie-eye in a junk shop a few weeks ago you couldn’t leave it behind. The had-seen-better-days tree-topper that had cost one whole dollar and seventy-five cents. It had glittered at you from the shelf and whispered ‘take me with you’. 

“If you hate it, we don’t have to put it up. We could put Creepy Santa up there instead,” you mused, “Our creepy angel…” 

“I don’t hate it. It’s so… wrong in the best way.” Eddie turns the star-shape in his hands. It reminds him of the chintzy and bright Christmas trees and flashy lights in Forest Hills. “Where the hell did you even get this thing?” 

“In the little thrift store near the camera shop. The one where you got me those earrings…?” 

“Mm, I know it. Maybe we can un-banish the Creep too. I guess it’s Christmas after all…” he reaches for the previously hidden Santa Claus figure with shifty eyes and rosy cheeks and replaces him near the top of the tree. “Yeesh, you’re a weird little man.” He flicks Santa before lifting the star up. “You wanna do the honours?”

From your cosy place on the couch, still pleasantly jelly-legged and tingly all over, you shake your head. “You do it. I’m comfy.” 

Eddie shrugs and reaches to balance the topper on the highest point of your perfectly wonky little tree, standing back with his hands on his hips before looking to you for approval. 

You give Eddie two thumbs up before opening your arms for him. You barely brace for impact when he pounces on you, head thrown back laughing. “Ed!” You squeak when he presses growling kisses to your neck. 

Resting on your chest, Eddie looks up at you with those shiny baby-cow eyes you adore. He is so soft beneath it all. He makes your heart beat double time. You brush back his hair and kiss his forehead as he gets comfortable. You wrap your legs around him so he cannot go anywhere, even if he wanted to. 

“Can we make this part of our tradition too?” he asks.

“Mm, I like how you think, pretty boy.”

Your fingers comb through his curls as he rests his weight on you. There is nowhere you would rather be.

Eddie cannot keep himself from staring at the tree in the quiet bliss of it all. He soaks it in; the thud of your heart beneath his ear, the way the tree-lights blur his eyes when he stares at them for too long. 

A small slow smile spreads onto his face. He decides then that maybe, just maybe, Christmas might not be so bad this year.

An easter egg for the babes who made it to the end - here's the picture from the header image (I love making photos like this for fics tbh). I like to think this is one of the pictures Eddie's Mom sent to Wayne and he still has it 🥲🥲🥲

Thank you for reading ❤️ reblogs, likes and comments are cherished and adored!

[fizziepopangel]

M&M Headcanons

Moxxie & Millie headcanons I refuse to believe are not real

Blitz set Moxxie and Millie up. Both Millie and Moxxie almost said no to the date.

Millie asked Moxxie to marry her

Moxxie almost wore a dress to his and Millie’s wedding. He didn’t because he hadn’t told Millie about his cross dressing or his interest in drag at the time and he was afraid she would see him differently.

Despite what he thinks about himself sometimes, Millie will openly admit that Moxxie does in fact make her feel safe, both in an emotional sense and a physical sense, which not many of her previous partners were able to do.

They take turns being the little spoon when cuddling.

The couple has a date night at the end of every week. Millie often tried to invite Blitz and Stolas out to double date and despite complaining when she does, doubling with the odd pair was actually Moxxie’s idea.

Pegging was Millie’s idea

After finding out about her husband enjoying wearing womens clothes, Millie started buying Moxxie clothes and encouraging him to pursue drag, even making him a dress for his birthday one year.

Blitz was the one to officiate their wedding at Moxxie’s request

Whenever Millie gets sick, Moxxie makes her the same chicken soup his mom made him when he got sick as a kid.

Blitz enjoys spying on the couple and found out through this that they were avid gamers when left to their own devices on days off and often spend hours gaming together

Moxxie tried to be a more active part of Millie’s family in the beginning of their marriage, and again after the harvest moon festival, but with no luck… Millie suggested maybe they should start thinking about starting their own family soon after she noticed this.

M&M would look into adopting children before having one naturally, Moxxie wanting to rescue an unwanted and/or abused child and Millie wanting a similar bond to Blitz and Loona’s. While they would talk about adopting an imp child, they wouldn't be opposed to adopting outside of their species, and most likely would adopt at least one child that wasn't a full-blooded imp, or possibly not an imp at all.

Millie threw Moxxie a surprise party for his birthday the first year they were together because she found out that after his mom ‘left’, Crimson stopped celebrating his son’s birthday. She made sure to try to make his birthday memorable every year since they’ve been together.

Moxxie carried the ‘memorable birthday’ tradition into how they celebrated their own children’s birthdays. He always tries to go above and beyond so they feel loved by both their mother and him, unlike how he felt as a kid.

Blitz introduced the couple to voyeurism with all the times he’s spied on the couple while they were intimate.

Moxxie has happy stims and info dumps most around Millie because she’s spent all of their relationship together making their relationship safe enough for him to do so….. This may or may not have included her actually stabbing a few other demons they’ve seen on the street when she’s caught them making fun of her husband.

In the same sentiment, Moxxie has always done his best to make sure Millie never felt as if she wasn’t as smart as him since he knew she did get a bit insecure about it being that she had been made fun of a few times when first moving to the city for some of the things she wasn’t familiar with about city living and the way she talked. And god help anyone who dares insult his wife’s intelligence in his presence.

They have a couples tattoos, each having the other's signature weapon tattooed on their asses. Yes, it was Millie's idea, and yes, Moxxie was a little drunk when he agreed.

Millie makes Moxxie breakfast in bed on Valentine's day. She burns the toast and gets the coffee wrong every year, but he loves it anyway.

Moxxie gifted Millie with a scrap book on their first Valentine's Day together of photos from a boudoir photo shoot he did after she and their relationship helped the imp feel comfortable in his own skin. He adds to it every Valentine's Day and then they recreate some of her favorite poses to incorporate into some of their sexy time

“Oh Millie” was just the first of many, many songs and poems Moxxie wrote for his wife. Millie has a shoe box with a copy of every single one.

Moxxie frequently dances Millie around the house. Millie has never been much for dancing and usually steps on his feet multiple times before the end of the song.

To stop arguments about what they should do for date nights, the couple keeps a large jar of ideas that they both write and when they can't agree on something, they pick randomly from the jar and do whatever activity is written down no matter whose idea it was.

Blitz knows about the jar and on his little adventures into their house when he was spying on them, he occasionally adds ideas to the jar for them. Moxxie and Millie still don't know about this despite the fact that "take Blitz to the petting zoo" was picked out of the jar at one point..... And yes, they did take him to the petting zoo, where he spent the entire time petting the baby horse.

The couple almost never met because Millie almost didn’t show up after taking her job at IMP, afraid of the idea of working at an imp owned business since she knew imps didn’t usually work for themselves and after going home and really thinking about it, she was afraid the business would tank and she’d end up broke enough to have to move back to Wrath. She's glad she didn't.

[sl-newsie]

American Woman (Thomas Shelby x American OC) Ch. 48: Vulnerable

Masterlist: https://www.tumblr.com/sl-newsie/739551758747090944/american-woman-thomas-shelby-x-american-oc?source=share

(Warning: mention of nudity)

The next day brings more clouds and a chilly cold snap. I will say it’s interesting to see the neighboring families celebrate their Boxing Day traditions through the window. The Shelbys must not do so much, either that or their festivities have been canceled due to John’s untimely death. And to top it off, Liam graces me with another phone call. This time with bad news from our side of the pond.

“Oh my God.”

Thomas, having just woken up, pokes his head out of his room. “What is it?”

One thing my eyes have to notice is his bare neck. Is he completely bare? Do not stare. Do not stare. There are far more important matters at hand.

“I just got off the phone with my broer Liam. There’s been an attack at home. You’ve heard of the White Hand? The gang Uncle Colon’s involved with?”

“Yeah.”

“The story goes that Wild Bill Lovett, their leader, was replaced by his brother-in-law Richard ‘Peg Leg’ Lonergan. After he took over, the gang’s become a shell of what it used to be. Far less organized.” Thomas gets the point so I stop rambling. “Anyways, back in Brooklyn there’s a popular joint called the Adonis Social Club. Last night Peg Leg showed up drunk and the Italians didn’t take it well. There was a gunfight. Now they’ve taken the waterfront.”

If this keeps up, Uncle Colon won’t be able to use Brooklyn's hidden trading port. Which means vader will have to import liquor from someplace in Canada where alcohol is legal.

However, Thomas’ first question is not about business. “Did you know anyone who was killed?”

I have to replay his words again and nod. “Joseph Howard. Or as he was known, ‘Ragtime Joe Howard.’ My family didn’t mind if I hung around the Italian neighborhood as long as there were no mafia members around. Joseph and I were friends as kids but he wanted more of the mob life.”

Thomas wants to come closer but is still indecent to do so. His head vanishes for a split second and he returns with a bathrobe draping his toned frame. Moeder would be furious if she were to know I was this close to an improperly dressed man. But my mind looks beyond the giddy thoughts of a teenager and instead stresses further about my family back home.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Thomas says softly. There is far too much death in this life.

I have to squeeze my eyes shut to keep from bursting into anxious tears. “‘S not just that. Capone has always hated the Irish mob. Even though we’re not officially part of it, my family is still at risk. When he sees my connection to your vendetta, my family is going to have a hit put on them. Every one of us.”

Thomas grabs my clenched hands and waits until I look up with teary eyes to speak.

“If I could I’d send people to go protect them. I know you want to be with them, Verena. If I were you I’d want to be with my family too. But it’s still too dangerous. Like you said, the mafia will notice you’re involved with our family. It’s safer for everyone if we all stick together. If Changretta ever makes contact I swear I will speak to him about your family.”

My eyes widen. “That could make things worse! If they know you value my family then they might do the same thing they plan to do to yours.”

Thomas lets out a sharp sigh. “Let’s just worry about one thing at a time, love. The meeting’s in half an hour, maybe our questions can be solved through that. Just be patient with me, eh?”

I swallow heavily and nod to show I understand. Thomas nods in return, slowly releases my hands, and walks back to his room. No words can describe how conflicted I am. I came here to mend bridges and instead this vendetta keeps burning them. As much as part of me wants to help Thomas and be with the others while they mourn John, I cannot ignore the calling of my own family. Liam sounded so worried. No, my life is not worth all of theirs. But if being tied to the Shelbys is going to pin them to a death threat then how am I supposed to bargain my life?

“Veena!” Charlie sprints into the hall. “Can we hide and seek again?”

I hastily wipe away my unshed tears and force a smile. “I thought you’d have figured out all the hiding places by now, Charlie.”

“No! I’ve still got ideas.”

I follow him to the parlor and take a seat on the sofa. “Alright, then. I’ll start counting.”

Charlie shakes his head. “That’s okay. You can hide first. One. Two. Three…”

Oh! He’s not giving me a head start. I dash out of the room and start to rack my brain for a place to hide. Unlike Charlie I do not have the advantage of being able to squeeze into such small spaces. My best places have been on high shelves and underneath folded bedding in closets. 

I carefully tiptoe to Thomas’ room. Is he still in the bathroom? Would he mind if I popped in to hide? Surely Charlie will discover me here in a matter of minutes so there shouldn’t be any harm. 

“Here I come!”

No time to wait! I quietly turn the doorknob and sneak into the dimly lit room. In the corner I spot a large armchair that’s the perfect size to hide behind-

Then I hear the sound of water. Why is there water here-? Oh my God.

Thomas is in here. Lying in a tub, smoking a cigarette, staring at the ceiling. Completely bare. 

He obviously saw me come in but raises no alarm to my intrusion. Or the fact that I’ve disturbed him in such a state.

My face turns bright pink but the absence of light does well to hide my shock. 

“Oh! I’m so sorry- I’m just- It’s my turn to hide, and-”

“‘S alright,” Thomas replies nonchalantly and takes a puff on his cigarette. How is he so calm?! “Not the first person to see me.”

Yes. See him. All of him. This is the first time my virgin eyes have seen a man who is not part of my family. As a logical person, I can see how Thomas’ toned figure can cause him to be intimidating and ready for a fight. As a curious woman, I cannot stop the natural reaction that I’m certain all women have from Thomas. It’s no wonder why he’s so cocky- figuratively and literally. Half of me wants to look away shamefully while the other half wants to memorize this vulnerable moment in great detail. His eyes still hold the burdens of ten men. 

What intrigues me most are his tattoos. The dark markings stand out against his pale, wet skin. The only person I know of in my family who has one is Uncle Colon. A Celtic cross on his wrist, similar to the one on my pendant. The idea of tattoos is completely obscure from the rest of my family. I almost want to ask if each of Thomas’ tattoos have a special meaning.

But my mind is far too flustered and embarrassed to think of anything other than immediately getting out of here.

“Right. Um- I’ll just go hide somewhere else-”

“Found you!”

Charlie’s sudden entrance startles me and I nearly tumble backwards into the dresser. The small boy laughs at my clumsiness but then lets out a big yawn.

“Did you wake up too early?” I ask in a pointed tone, putting my hands on my hips and trying to forget my embarrassment.

Charlie gets a sheepish look. “I couldn’t sleep.”

I glance back at Thomas, who gives me a look that says Charlie is at the age when he has no normal sleep schedule. No wonder Thomas has been stressed from little sleep too.

“Well then, how about you take a nap while your daddy and I go to a meeting in the parlor?” I usher him to the creaky bed and start to tuck him in, despite his look of protest. “Trust me Charlie, it’s going to be so dull. So much talking.”

He scrunches his nose at the thought and yawns again. Within a few minutes Charlie’s already fallen asleep.

Knock knock. 

Lord, now who is it?

“Tommy,” Michael’s muffled voice comes from the other side of the door. “They’ve gathered.”

This is happening so soon. Thomas doesn’t give any verbal reply. He just sighs and takes a drink, eyes still on the ceiling. I think I’m slowly growing used to seeing him without clothes.

I approach from behind. “Would you like me to go out first? Try to calm the approaching storm?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Thomas mutters and finally looks up to see the concern painted on my face, a trait he matches with his own. “Thank you for being here. You’re not family but you're still here.”

“John reminded me of my own broers. I grieve for him too.” Thomas starts to get up and I turn my head to offer privacy; although he clearly pays no thought to that. Something else I notice is that he has nothing laid out to wear. “Would you like a robe?”

At first I think Thomas will take advantage of the situation to mock my modest character or reprimand me for not knocking earlier. Instead of being stunned or ashamed he walks around with a stance that says he doesn’t mind being clothless. Almost as if he’s daring me to look at him. Deep down I feel grateful for the unspoken trust he's placed in me. Not only to see him like this but to also accept his fear of facing his family.

“A towel, please,” Thomas requests kindly, as if asking for a cup of tea.

Makes sense. I’ve already seen him. Why cover up now?

@meadows5

[forest-hashira]

Noble Blood - Chapter Five

...hey everyone! i know i said i was taking a break from this fic, and it really felt like i did! i know it's only been about a week since the last update, but it feels like longer than that to me, haha. i didn't touch the fic itself at all for a few days and focused on working out a few worldbuilding things instead (tysm for your help leigh!!!). and then i sat down and wrote this whole thing in like two sittings. also, in case anyone was wondering, this is what i had initially hoped to get to in chapter three. whoops. anyways, i hope you guys enjoy this chapter!

fic masterlist here | read on ao3 here | wc: ~3.2k | cw: gn reader, new characters afoot, minor injuries (sort of a concussion, ig?), brief instance of vomiting

It wasn’t long after Satoru had told your group of friends about Kenji that other people in the settlement started finding out. Not that it was difficult, since now the little dragon had taken to riding on top of Satoru’s head and messing up his hair – which Satoru lamented about constantly, and insisted was intentional – when they were out and about in the settlement. After word had spread to virtually everyone who lived in the settlement, Satoru was allowed a bit more freedom to come and go from the Gojo estate, though his lessons with his tutors and his training sessions with Yaga still took up much of his time.

Despite all of your friends’ best efforts to make nice with Kenji, he seemed totally uninterested in anyone that wasn’t you or Satoru, and, on occasion, Kokoro, because she was prone to sneaking him cookies from the bakery. The seeming indifference from the dragon didn’t seem to particularly upset anyone in the group, but Satoru saw it as something to brag about, even if somewhat jokingly, saying things like, “You’re just not cool enough for him I guess,” and “He’d pay more attention to you if you were more fun,” always with a giant, mischievous grin on his face. 

It had absolutely devastated him one day when Kento had replied with “Maybe he knows you need a taste of your own medicine.” Satoru had refused to speak to Kento for a full three days until he apologized. 

This new normal – stepping back into the old dynamic of the group, but now with a playful dragon in the mix – settled in quickly, and for that you were grateful. The seven of you spending time together playing games and causing trouble in between lessons and training became a daily routine again. Before you knew it, days turned to weeks, and weeks into months, until almost a year had come and gone, the passage of time only marked by birthdays and the changing of the seasons. One by one, you each turned a year older; by the time the New Year’s festival was coming up again, Satoru was nine, you, Shoko, and Utahime, were eight, Kento was seven, and Kokoro was five. 

The festival went as the last few had: fireworks, cookies in the shapes of the moon phases and stars, and you, Shoko, Utahime, and Satoru spending an almost absurd amount of time with the ring toss game. This year, the prize you all had your eye on was an expertly crafted stuffed animal that resembled a bear – at least, you all assumed it was supposed to be a bear – to give to Kokoro. 

“Yaga-sensei makes stuffed animals like that in his spare time,” Satoru explained, when Utahime asked where the toy had come from. 

“Are you sure he actually knows what a bear looks like?” Shoko asked, tossing one of her rings and sighing when it bounced off the peg she had aimed for. “Because even I know that they’re not generally…purple.”

You laughed at that, not even caring that it caused you to miss your mark, too; Satoru had the money to pay for all four of you to play all night, if that’s what it took for you to win the prize. 

“Well I think purple is a fun color,” you replied, trying and failing to bite back a grin at the exasperated look you got from Shoko, though she said nothing else as she got another set of rings to throw.

By the time you’d won the stuffed animal – Utahime had outscored all of you, which had earned her praise from you and Shoko, and also meant she’d won her bet against Satoru, so he had to buy her any snack she wanted from the whole festival – the fireworks show was about to start, which meant you all had to race to the booth the Nanami family had been selling desserts out of so you could collect your other two friends, and present Kokoro with the prize that had been won for her.

Just like Satoru’s eighth birthday, all of you snuck off to the peach orchard and climbed up to the observation deck to watch the show. Utahime and Shoko sat huddled together, sharing the taiyaki pastries Utahime had made Satoru buy her; Kento and Kokoro stood closer to the railing, the little girl clutching the “bear” in a death grip; you and Satoru laid on your backs near the center of the platform, looking up at the fireworks without having to strain your necks, a mostly empty bag of konpeito lying forgotten between you. As always, the display included the moon in various phases, snowflakes being overtaken by flowers, all interspersed with bright flashes of red, gold, and white. 

Kenji, now too big to be satisfied with staying bundled into his rider’s clothes, laid curled up with his head on your shoulder, apparently content to sleep through the whole show, despite how loud it was. 

All in all, you felt good. You were happy, and everything had finally stabilized again, after Satoru unexpectedly bonded with Kenji over a year before. Besides that, you knew it wouldn’t be that much longer before you and the rest of your friend group all had dragons of your own, and the idea excited you. 

It had barely been a week since the new year’s festival when you felt something change in the air of the settlement. You weren’t entirely sure what it was at first, but you quickly learned that there was apparently another boy that had bonded with a single color dragon before the age of ten, much like Satoru had a year before. There was talk around the settlement for days, rumors spoken in hushed tones when the adults thought the children couldn’t hear, but it was impossible to miss all the murmurings.

“He’s from a little village hours from here.”

“He’s not even part of a clan.”

“I heard the Gojos bought him and are bringing him here to hold him captive.”

“They can’t take the risk of him growing strong enough to challenge the heir, they have to keep him on a tight leash.”

“You don’t think they’d bring him here just to kill him, do you?”

“It depends how much of a threat he poses, I guess.”

With such dark statements being thrown around so casually – even if only in hushed whispers – you couldn’t help but grow curious about the reality of the situation. 

“Do you really think they bought him?” you asked your friends one day. You were dying to ask Satoru himself, since he would know for sure if his clan had bought the boy who’d bonded with a solid color dragon, but you hadn’t seen much of him lately.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Shoko sighed, rolling her eyes at you. “Why would they buy him? They have enough power just to take him if they really want to.”

Her words made your eyes widen with horror.

“Shoko,” Kento scolded her, a frown pinching his features together harshly. “Don’t say things like that, you’re scaring them!”

“But it’s true!” she insisted, only backing down and grumbling to herself about not wanting to lie when Utahime nudged her with her elbow.

Your curiosity only grew after that.

It was just a couple of days later when there was a flurry of excitement near the docks, and you rushed to see what all the fuss was about. You had to shove and weave your way between people’s legs in order to get a good look, but eventually you found yourself standing practically at the front of the crowd. You reached the spot just in time to see a boy about your age stumble off of a boat – obviously one of the finer sailing ships, owned by the Gojo clan – looking a bit green in the face; he’d probably been seasick on the journey. At first, you didn’t notice his dragon draped around his shoulders like a pelt because it so closely matched the color of his hair. When it lifted its head from his shoulder, though, you almost gasped, eyes wide as you stared. It looked so much like Satoru’s dragon it was almost uncanny, though this one was as dark as Satoru’s was light.

The boy glanced around as he was urged forward, clearly unsettled by the number of people gathered to gawk at him, as if he were some sort of novelty. His eyes paused for a moment as they met yours, and even with as fascinated as you were by his arrival, you managed to smile at him and give him a small wave. The gesture seemed to fluster him, and he lifted his hand slightly to return the wave before he was hurried off, one of the men escorting him scolding all the onlookers and telling them to go home.

You scampered off before you could get caught and further chastised, but your curiosity was far from sated. He had only just arrived, and already you wanted to see this boy again, and to learn as much about him as you could. That wasn’t so bad, was it?

Apparently it was bad.

“I just don’t understand why we can’t see him!” you complained to Shoko, after being turned away from the Gojo estate once again. “He’s our age, just like Satoru is. I just wanna say hi.”

“Maybe it’s because we don’t have our dragons yet,” she suggested.

You wrinkled your nose. “Why would that matter?”

“Because it means we’re not grown up enough, or something. I don’t know.” She kicked a pebble a foot or so down the path as you walked together.

“Just because he has his dragon now doesn’t mean Satoru’s grown up,” you grumbled, kicking the pebble a little further down the path after you reached it.

The brunette hummed in agreement with your comment, but neither of you said anything else; even if Shoko wouldn’t say the words out loud, you knew she missed Satoru just like you did.

The two of you continued walking together in silence, taking turns kicking the little pebble as you went, only separating when you were called home by your respective parents. You waved goodbye to Shoko as she walked over to her mother, and as you turned and made your way back to your own parents, you felt less frustrated than you had when you’d first been turned away from the Gojo estate, because you had already made up your mind; you were going to get in to see those boys whether the Gojo clan wanted you to or not.

You crept through your house as quietly as you could, taking great care to avoid the floorboards you knew would creak if you stepped on them as you made your way to the front door. Thankfully your father, as usual, had failed to lock it before turning in for the night, and you held your breath as you pulled it open, praying the hinges wouldn’t squeak and alert your parents to your escape.

Miraculously, they made no sound as you opened it just enough to slip through, closing it behind you just as silently. A smile crossed your face then, realizing that the first part of your plan had gone off without a hitch. You managed to stifle a shout of excitement, knowing that would only result in you getting caught, and instead turned away from the door, racing up the road and towards the Gojo estate.

As you drew closer to the estate, you slowed your movements, not wanting to give yourself away because you tripped over your own feet or a loose stone in the path. You tucked yourself a little further into the shadows, eyes locked on the guard by the front gates as you moved around to the side. Once you were sure you were out of his line of sight, you darted to walk against the wall itself, steps slow and careful; if you miscalculated your spot along the outside of the estate, you’d be in a world of trouble.

Just as you began to question your memory, you heard a familiar voice just up ahead, on the other side of the wall, and it brought a smile to your face.

“Kenji, your feet are cold, stop putting them on my neck!” Satoru’s whining eased the hurt of not being able to see him much anymore, and it also confirmed that you were exactly where you’d planned to end up.

Taking a step away from the wall, you turned to look at it, trying to find the best possible hand- and footholds on its regal yet weathered surface. It only took a moment to find them, and you immediately began to scale your way up, reaching the top in a lot less time than you had expected, and before you knew it your head was peeking over the top of the wall.

You didn’t get a chance to say anything before Satoru noticed you, as wretchedly observant as he was, and you thought his eyes were going to pop out of his head. He called your name incredulously, stepping off of his engawa and approaching the wall as if to confirm what he was seeing. “Is that really you?”

“Hi, Toru!” you replied, somehow managing to keep from shouting, a grin plastered across your face as you pulled yourself further up.

“How the hell did you get up there?” the white haired boy asked, though he was smiling now, too; he could tell you were up to some sort of mischief, and he was more than willing to be a part of it.

“I climbed,” you said bluntly, more focused on swinging one of your legs over the top of the wall so you could begin your descent. It was then that you noticed another figure, still seated on the engawa off to Satoru’s left, dark hair pulled back while an equally dark dragon curled around his shoulders, its yellow eyes glowing like fireflies in the dark. It occurred to you then that this was the boy you’d seen at the docks; the one that had been brought to the settlement to train alongside Satoru. 

Excitement outweighed your rational thoughts then, and a beaming grin broke out across your face once again. “Hi!” you called to the boy, releasing the wall with one hand to wave at him excitedly. “I’m—”

Your introduction was cut short when you lost your balance, and you barely had time to register what was happening before you were hitting the ground, a rather undignified squawking sound escaping you just before you made impact with the dirt; you were vaguely aware of your head hitting the ground a little harder than the rest of your body, but not aware enough to realize it could be bad.

“Oh my god!” an unfamiliar voice shouted, obviously worried. The owner of the voice hurried over, and when you opened your eyes you saw two faces hovering above your own. “Are you okay? That looked like it hurt.” You realized the once-unfamiliar voice belonged to the boy from the docks, and it brought a small smile to your lips.

“It did hurt,” you answered after a moment, planting your hands on the ground beside you and pushing yourself to sit up. The sudden movement sent your vision spinning, and you felt yourself beginning to slump over before Satoru caught you.

“I can’t believe you fell like an idiot,” he said, though you thought you detected a hint of worry in his voice, as well, as he let you lean into him while he held you upright.

“Satoru-san!” the dark haired boy said, sounding scandalized that he would speak to you that way.

“What?” Satoru demanded, scowling at the other boy. “And I already told you not to be so formal when you talk to me, Suguru. It’s weird.”

Suguru. You turned the name over in your mind a few times, and you decided you liked it.

Suguru scowled back at Satoru for a moment, though his attention quickly drifted down to you again, worry furrowing his brow. “Should we take them to see someone?” he asked after a moment. “They hit the ground pretty hard, what if they’re hurt?”

You intended to tell the boys that you were fine, that it was no big deal and there was no need to worry, but as soon as you pulled yourself away from Satoru and tried to stand on your own, you doubled over again and promptly threw up your dinner, squeezing your eyes shut as your vision began to swim.

Satoru swore from somewhere off to your left, and he quickly but gently pulled you away from the mess you’d made on the ground, making sure you wouldn’t collapse into it. 

“Yeah, we need to get someone,” he said, finally agreeing with Suguru. “Can you move?” he asked, looking down at you with a worried expression.

You stared up at him for a few long moments, trying to decide if he would believe you if you lied, but the harder you thought about it, the more your head started to throb. “...I don’t know,” you eventually said, words coming out a bit wobbly. “Definitely can’t walk.”

“I can carry you,” Suguru offered, and you whipped your head around to look at him so fast you thought you might be sick again.

The white haired boy seemed hesitant at first, but he also didn’t seem to want to waste time arguing about it. “Are you sure?”

Suguru nodded. “I don’t know my way around the house, it will be easier for me to carry them and follow you.”

Your friend looked down at you again, his features pinched together in a way you couldn’t recall ever seeing before, and it made you frown back up at him slightly. 

“Okay,” Satoru agreed after a moment. “Okay, yeah, you’re right.”

As carefully as two nine year old boys could manage, Satoru helped Suguru gather you in his arms and lift you from the ground. Though you knew they were trying their best, you couldn’t help the small sounds that would escape you when you would get jostled a bit too hard, your head spinning so bad it made you feel nauseous. 

Once Suguru had you secure in his arms and was on his feet, Satoru led the way into the house, navigating the halls with ease as he sought out the healer that spent most nights at the estate. 

The movement was too much for you, your vision swimming with every step, your stomach doing flips with every turn, and you had to shut your eyes. 

“I really think you should stay awake,” Suguru told you quietly, worry clear in his voice.

“Not falling asleep,” you insisted. “My eyes hurt an’ I feel dizzy, that’s all.”

You received no further argument or pushback, which you appreciated. Despite your promise that you weren’t falling asleep, though, it wasn’t long before the sounds of the boys searching for someone to look you over faded from your awareness and you slipped from the waking world.

didn't wanna say this before the chapter, but i figured there was no better time to post suguru's entrance than on his birthday! so happy birthday to our boy 💜

@ghost-1-y @kentohours @whatthefucksatan @why-the-fuck-am-i-so-tired @mitsuristoleme @lu-dao-writes @peachdues @lik0 @deepestartisanhumanoidshark @here-for-the-tea-baby @staryukis @roselleviennesstuff if your url is crossed out, it's because tumblr won't let me tag you for whatever reason. i apologize!

[kiraixi]

This is my contribution to the Harringrove Relay Race! 🎄❤️@harringrove-relay-race

Santa Baby ~

Billy wasn’t happy with his predicament but honestly any extra cash would do… even if it meant babysitting your crushes ex’s younger sister.

Holly was a sweet kid. Shy at first, but after becoming a frequent swimmer at his Turtle Tots classes in summer Billy’s come to know what a bubbly yet devious inside she had. Adorable baby blues not even he could say no to along with a pixie laugh when she got her way.

Here he was, standing outside the mall, about to spend his Christmas day with a five year old.

To be fair it was way better than whatever burnt roast Susan would salvage, forced to choke down undercooked potatoes with his father’s threatening glare across. Forced to match Max’s tight smile and fake gratitude as she opens her third present while he gets none. Always. Only to left alone with his asshole dad and mouse of a wife while she runs off to her nerd friends' houses, blissfully ignorant of what waits for him behind closed doors.

Mrs Wheeler stopped him a week ago. Hand on his arm caressing, asking if he could be ‘ever so kind’ and watch her youngest on such a special day. Billy doesn’t care what she deigns so important she can’t look after her own child, but from the amount of cash stuffed into his hand he’s not complaining at all.

Twenty dollars to babysit her and another twenty five to buy her a gift. He can keep the change.

Holly takes him left and right. Kinda embarrassing how this little kid knows her way round more than him. Up the stairs they go to Claire’s, receiving a few warm chuckles from the lady running the till when Holly asks him which stuffed plushie is superior.

Billy personally thinks the reindeer one is cuter. It’s called Antler Claus.

They pick up some hot chocolate and share a gingerbread cookie. Holly called the thing Hermon and then decapitated its head, handing him the torso and legs. She’s darn cute.

Tugging on the arm carrying her teddy, she points down the hall. He turns to her,

“Mm?”

“I wanna see Santa!”

“Santa?” Billy looks where she’s pointing. A Christmas set up. A tree and a couple presents laid out, theres’ a small queue of people waiting to talk to a guy in red lounged on a chair.

“Oh… Santa.”

“Yep!” She tugs him forward with the mighty force of a toddler and they line up behind, Billy squinting at that floppy brown hair under the hat. Even though the boy’s face is hidden under that ridiculous beard, Billy could recognise him anywhere.

Steve Harrington in all his glory, sweating under layers of heavy velvet, trying with all his might to sell a jolly man accent.

He can’t suppress a smirk as they walk up for their turn. Steve tries hard to not make eye contact with Billy, instead listening intently to Holly.

“Hi there little miss! Have you been a good girl for Santa this Christmas?”

She giggles, swaying back and forth on Steve’s knee, “Yes! I spent today with Billy, it was so fun! We got a rei- rain—“ She frowns at Billy.

“Reindeer.”

“Reindeer!” Shining her brilliant three teeth smile at the older boy. They both laugh at her adorable antics.

She pulls Steve’s ear in, whispering in that way only children do, loud yet secretive all the same. “Don’t tell my mummy but this is way more fun than being home.”

Steve sends him a soft smile and Billy tries with all his might to tape down that warm shakiness building in his chest. Steve tells her to grab a gift off the shelf and while she’s away for a few minutes Billy’s curiosity gets the better of him.

“What made you do this instead of..” He waves his hand around lamely, “Festivities at home.”

Steve looks down at his lap a little forlorn, “I don’t think anyone would even realise I’m gone..”

“Ah..”, that sad pout makes Billy regret asking.

The other sighs, “Well why are you not at home? I wouldn’t have pegged you getting along with Holly.”

“Well, she’s a good kid and any extra money is useful,” Billy shrugs, not wanting to get into the details of a shitty house to go back to.

Steve nods in understanding, then snorts “Well haven’t you been a good boy this year,” pats his lap like the jerk he is. “Why don’t you sit on my lap”.

Billy blushes and looks heavenward, cursing god for making his fall for this absolute dork. Holly comes to save the day. Another plushie, a penguin this time, tucked under her arm and pulls him toward the churro stand.

He looks back at Steve, questioning how much he owes for the toy. Steve shakes his head and smiles, “Don’t worry about it, maybe instead you could stop by at four? It’s when I clock off, we could hang if you're free?”

Billy looks away, face warming but not from the temperature. He tickles Holly’s side and taps her nose, “Once I put this bug in her bed I’ll come back” They awkwardly wave goodbye, Holly giggles at him and he smiles back.

This Christmas isn’t turning out to be so bad after all.

Happy holidays everyone! Please look forward to the lovely work from the next person 🎉@thatgirlwithasquid

[starlightsaphron]

Ok here we go my Lengthy Evil Bees Schnees Headcanon Timeline > before going to bacon academy yang transitions. Her life issues force her into donning a mask of what she thinks she Has to be as a woman and as a person. Still “likes men” because its part of her mask > weiss attends bacon academy > weiss realizes she likes women > weiss goes to the only girl she can peg (hah) as being queer for help > yang > yang goes “WHAT NO I DONT LIKE WOMEN I LIKE MEN IM CIS HAHA-fuck” > weiss goes “okay well. Do you wanna. Learn how to. Gay. Together.” then forms a secret QPR with yang, slowly becoming closer and closer friends, but with a lot of bullying because they both think its funny > yang begins to catch feelings for blake, and discusses this with her bestie weiss, and weiss goes “yeah absolutely, that sounds wonderful im glad you found someone you really do love :)” and the first drop of jealousy forms > yang goes “im going to ask blake out after the vytal festival” and weiss goes “yaya woohoo” > volume 3, occurs. > yang loses her best friend, her crush, and is fucking destroyed emotionally. > weiss looses her two best friends (ruby and yang) and her entire support group (everyone else) and has to figure out what to do again > vol 5 occurs, and yang and Weiss are reunited as besties but dont have time to really talk things out until The Conversation about Blake. > Post this they kinda. Just a smidge. Qpr it up in secret just so they can both get a little support. > vol 5 sees the reunion of blake into the group and so weiss and yang dont get as much time together as they used to, causing weiss’s jealousy to build until vol 6’s train crash and other things start piling up. > Vol 7 has some free time but most of it is spent training so weiss’s jealousy builds unknowingly to her, while she watches the bees start bumbling more and more, as she doesn’t recognize why shes feeling uncomfortable with their flirting (see: "YEP" when jaune invites ANYONE out) > vol 8 has so much shit in 2 days the only thing to happen is weiss losing yang but she cant even focus on that because the Bees are Bumbling and blake ALMOST kills herself but weiss goes “haha my best friend who i have No Feelings For would kill me if i let her crush die as well HAHAHA” > vol 9 happens and Weiss is too upset about losing the entirety of her country n shit to really care until the bees FINALLY bumble, in which she goes “haha. Yay. Yang did it. Why do i feel so alone. Hah. Haha…” and it finally clicks, but ruby’s breakdown immediately happens after this which becomes a significantly higher priority > once they return from the ever after is fair game (haha qrow and clover lol) so idk maybe while they hang out in vacuo weiss finally goes “bitch scoot over… i love yall” in a really awkward but heartfelt conversation and yang goes “yay!! I missed being able to do stuff with you” and blake goes “ive read enough fanfic to tell you were struggling” and then the bees schnees are born, OFFICIALLY

I love this idea so freaking much. I hadn’t even thought of QPR freezeburn before beeschnees before and I love it. Especially though the angle of Yang and Weiss’s personal exploration.

I’d love to read a full fic about this

[xxvalkyriesxx]

The Joker and the Queen - Chapter Two

For @emeriethevalkyriegirl 🩷 @acotargiftexchange

Masterlist // Chapter One // Next Part AO3 // read below

Every year, the city of Velaris hosts a week long festival, the Carnival of Stars. It's the biggest event of the year, people from everywhere travel to Night Court County to partake in the special events. Every year, the festival ends on the Winter Solstice, with a performance by the Velaris Ballet Company. And every year they perform the holiday classic, The Nutcracker. However this year, the director of the company has decided to shift gears. This year, the ending performance will be, The Lady and the Fool. A show that follows a royal lady falling in love with a court jester, despite what society says. The director wants to bring a whole new experience to the show. And the twist is that the fool will not be played by a fellow dancer. So instead, they decide to cast a local Winter Solstice tree farmer. What could go wrong? OR Nesta Archeron is the principle ballerina of the Velaris Ballet Company, playing the lead role of The Lady and the Fool, with her counter part, Cassian Pine.

Ten weeks until Winter Solstice.

Nesta groaned slightly while she stretched her hamstring, sitting on the floor of the dance studio. Cooling down from ballet class was something Nesta took very seriously after the unfortunate event when she was seven and wasn’t cooling down after her classes, which resulted in her fainting in her mother’s flower bed when she got home at one point. Of course her mother was more frazzled about the flower bed than her own daughter, but that wasn’t surprising for Josephine Archeron.

The thought of her mother made Nesta’s skin itch, scratching her leg after coming out of the stretch. Josephine lived in the heart of downtown Velaris, so Nesta and her younger sisters created a schedule where one of the three had to see their mother at least once a week. The sisters were on a rotation of who spent time with their mother, and this week happened to be Nesta’s.

Josephine Archeron was many things, but civil was hardly one of them. She had explained her disappointment about all three of her children at least once a week. 

“Feyre is dating the mayor and I’m of course happy for her, but that bimbo knows next to nothing about politics. She’s going to make this city worse, trust me.”

“Elain becoming a teacher has been a fine move on her part, but her husband has been a godsend to this family. But she buries herself in her work. She should focus less on other children, and more on creating her own.”

“And you, my darling Nesta, cannot be a dancer for life. Have you found a man yet? Well of course you haven’t. Frowning causes more wrinkles, did you know? People will think we’re sisters soon, and how will you find a man then?”

Nesta sighed, getting up from the floor as she took one last big stretch before she walked to her bag. Grabbing her phone from the bag’s pocket, she read over her last several messages. 

Pegging Princess: We should meet up for dinner tonight! It’s been awhile since I’ve seen y’all.

Viscountess Vagetarian: Whatcha mean? You see me every day!!

Pegging Princess: This is the groupchat!!! LEARN TO READ! YOU RUN A BOOKSTORE!

Viscountess Vagetarian: Oh shut up wench!

Pegging Princess: Hoe

Viscountess Vagetarian: Sloot

Viscountess Vagetarian: Also can you get out of the bathroom? You need to stop watching reels while you shit. I know couples develop habits from each other, but can this be an exclusive Az one please?

Nesta rolled her eyes playfully as she could imagine Gwyn yelling at Emerie at the bookshop they ran together. The three had been best friends for years ever since meeting at the local library for a romance book meet up. It had just been the three of them there, and they’ve been inseparable since.

Queefing Queen to the group chat, “3 girls 1 book”: We can meet at Devlons! We’re having auditions tonight for the solstice ballet.

Heading to the exit with her stuff, Nesta was about to walk out when the studio door opened. Eris stood on the other side, dressed in pristine white button down and forest green trousers. He smirked slightly, catching Nesta off. “Are you ready for tonight’s auditions?” He asked.

She glared at him, her arms crossing over her chest. “This is an incredibly stupid idea, Eris. Not to mention the risk we’re taking. And in case you didn’t know already, it’s an insult to ballet.”

However, Eris just waved her off. “Stop being dramatic, Nesta. I want to try something new. I mean, didn't you say recently that ballet was an exclusive style of dance that should be more open to everyone?”

Of course he would use my words against me. Classic Eris. Fucking ass–

“Well, Nesta?” Eris inclined his head as he crossed his arms, mimicking her. He had done this since they were younger, which only made her more pissed. “Yes, I did say that.” She mumbled. 

“Well, we best be going to the auditorium to see these auditions. All of the tear-off tabs were taken.”

“All of them?” Nesta blinked in surprise.

“Yup! We saw some traction on social media as well, so we’re hoping to see a good turnout tonight.”

He held out his arm. “Well, you ready?”

“Not at all.” She mumbled.

“I have no problem carrying you as you kick and scream the whole way there.”

Even as Nesta glared, she knew Eris’ threat wasn’t something to take lately. He was her dance partner for years and knew he could pick her up without an ounce of a struggle. Grudgingly, Nesta looped her arm through his.

It was going to be a long night.

~*~

There were exactly five people in the auditorium. 

Nesta turned to Eris, a deadpan expression crossed her face. “This is a good turnout?”

“Oh shut up, witch.” Eris said, glaring at Nesta.

Nesta hummed as the two made their way onto the stage. Practically her whole life was spent on stages, it’s where she thrived. It was more of a home than her own parent’s house. Looking out to the very few seats that were filled, Nesta’s stomach turned. 

The selection did not look great.

Clearing his throat, Eris introduced himself .“Hello, everyone. I’m Eris Vanserra. The director of this year’s Winter Solstice ballet, The Lady and the Fool. As most of you have heard, we’re having open auditions this year. We’re looking for someone to play the part of the fool, so dancing isn’t a requirement. And don’t worry, we won’t be sending you to a ballet boot camp for the show.”

“Our lovely principal ballerina” Eris gestured to Nesta “has stated that ballet should be more inclusive. While the character is not one of grace that is usually with a standard dancer’s role, I wanted this year’s performance to show that anyone can enter ballet.”

The deafening silence that gathered around the five sets of hands that applauded was almost sickening. I don’t get paid enough for this shit. Eris nudged Nesta with his elbow, giving her his signature side eye.

Taking a step forward, she spoke. “I’m Nesta Archeron, a part of the Velaris Ballet Company. I will be this year’s lead female playing the role of La Capricciosa. Her character is a part of high society, but after meeting the jesters, Moondog and Bootface, she begins to rethink her place in society.”

“There are two jesters in the show, however we are only looking for one inexperienced person to play the part of Moondog. The other jester will be played by fellow ballet dancer Balthazar. He was the nutcracker in last year’s solstice ballet.” The audience remained quiet, so she kept going. “Unfortunately Balthazar was unable to make it today, but nonetheless, we should be able to make a decision on who our Moondog should be.” 

Eris took a step next to Nesta, his hands resting at his hips. “I know you all might be nervous, but ballet isn’t just dancing, it’s acting too. Don’t feel the need to show off dance skills, we aren’t looking for that. We want to see the spirit of Moondog. He’s inside one of you.” Eris pointed to the seats facing them.

Nesta mentally cringed at Eris’ wording. Gods, this man needed to get laid. 

“Moondog is a poor jester who doesn’t care who he’s fallen for, all he knows is that he wants her, title or not.”

Nesta swore she heard someone sniffling in the audience. She withheld a sigh, making her way with Eris two steps behind,down the steps to the table that was on the outskirts of the pit. It gave them a good view of the whole stage. Once they sat down, Nesta glanced down at her phone, noting the time was close to five o’clock.

“This is going to go by so fast, just wait and see.” Eris said quietly, geering up for the first audition. This audience member climbed up the steps to the stage, but right as they reached the final step, they ended up tripping and falling onto their face.

Kill me now. Nesta grumbled inwardly as she would rather have dinner with her mother than be there.

~*~

As the fifth person went to introduce themselves, Eris called out. “Thank you for trying out. Maybe we can slot you for the summer solstice show?”

“Does Velaris even celebrate that solstice?” The audience member asked.

Eris shrugged. “How the hell would I know? I’m not the mayor.”

As they went to speak again, Eris shooed them away. Their face flushed red as they walked off the stage, leaving the auditorium.

When the doors closed shut, Eris sighed, slumping in his seat. He glanced at Nesta. “So, did anyone stick out to you?”

“Eris, you literally said no to all of them!” She narrowed her eyes. “And I checked our social media page, you didn’t post anything about these auditions! You’re trying to typecast this character!” She slammed the booklet of the script down onto the table. “Why are we doing this?”

“Ballet is a rigorous sport, and only the best of the best can make it to where you and I stand today. But let’s face it, Nesta. Majority of the VBC comes from wealthy families like you and I. The community should be involved for this show, I mean they’re involved in every other aspect of the Carnival of Stars. Why not this?”

Nesta crossed her arms. “You hate people. So I know you’re not doing it out of the kindness of your heart or to bring holiday cheer.” Glancing back down at the booklet, Nesta tilted her head seeing the similar designs of the sea shells and waves, the very same designs she saw when Eris told her about their new performance of the year. Slowly she rose to meet Eris’ gaze, a lightbulb buzzing in her mind.

“You’re trying to outdo Tarquin.”

Almost as if his name was a spell, Eris groaned, spilling everything. “I’m not trying to outdo him. I’m just trying to give a more meaningful performance.”

“Can the two of you just make up already?” Nesta asked, a brow raised.

“We weren’t officially together actually! According to him, we were just friends.”

She rolled her eyes. “I can’t believe you’re getting away with this. How the hell did Rhysand even sign off on this?” 

Something crossed Eris’ face before he shrugged. “He’s proposing to your sister. He also wants to one up, Tarquin.”

Nesta’s face fell into her hands. She knew this day would come eventually, but out of all times of the year, Rhysand wanted to propose to her baby sister on said baby sister’s birthday. Subtle is not in that man’s vocab. Rhysand and Nesta never really saw eye to eye, however over the last year they did trade some of their childhood trauma caused by their parents. In a sense it was like the trauma Olympics, and currently Nesta was in the lead.

A soft feeling flowed between her ribs, thinking of Feyre. She was happy for her, but that happiness soon faded as she would be the only unmarried one in her family. A sight for sore eyes, her mother would probably say.

Tarquin had dated her sister very briefly before she broke up with him to be with Rhysand. Then he eventually tangled up with Eris, who apparently only used him. She had spoken to the Summer Court County dancer a few times, and was always mesmerized by him so she understood why so many people were enthralled with him.

“Besides.” The redhead started. “None of these people had the” he wiggled his fingers, going back to the auditions “dazzle we’re looking for.” Eris stood up without a single care in the world written on his face, walking to stretch his legs. Glancing back down at her phone, she wanted to slam her head into the table. It wasn’t even six yet.

“Not once did you ask for my opinion during these auditions, Eris.”

“So you liked one of them then?” Eris questioned, turning around to face her.

Scrunching her nose, Nesta shook her head. “I mean, not really. But I’m not sure what we’re looking for!”

“Trust me, dear. I know exactly what I’m looking for, and no one had it.”

“What the fuck does that mean–”

A loud BANG echoed throughout the auditorium, the sound bouncing off the walls. The doors of the auditorium slammed opened. Instantly Eris and Nesta turned around to see a man standing in red flannel and jeans. He looked oddly familiar, but she didn’t know where she recognized him. Narrowing her eyes at him, Nesta noticed that beside him was…was…

Is that a damn dog?

“Are the auditions still happening for The Lady and The Fool?” The man spoke, and suddenly a gear clicked into place. Her face flushed hard but Nesta did her best to ignore the growing heat as she bit the inside of her cheek. This was the man from the last Solstice. The one who haunted her dreams most nights, especially after she stupidly thankfully lost his number.

The man walked down to their level, the dog on a red leash, panting and wagging their tail. Big brown eyes looked at her with such compassion that Nesta had to adjust herself so she sat on her hands withholding the temptation to pet the animal.

“Can I help you…?” Eris asked.

“Hi, I’m Cassian, Cassian Pine. Are the auditions still happening?”

Eris turned to Nesta. She nudged her head, in a slight shake, indicating no! They were not continuing! We're done here! Silver blue eyes glared daggers at the auburn colored irises that sparkled with a gleam that made Nesta's stomach clench.

“You’re just in time, Bassian. You can go to the stage.”

As Eris sat back down, Nesta sneered at him, her voice hushed. “What the fuck was that?!”

“I may have found what I’m looking for.”

“What! A 6’5 man who looks like a lumberjack. His last name is a type of tree??”

“Let’s just see what the Mother potentially gifted us.”

The man was now standing on stage alongside his dog. The dog sat down on the right side of him, looking up at his face. He quietly patted their head before looking at Eris and Nesta. He rolled his shoulders slightly, smiling nervously. The clicks and clacks of the dog’s nails rested against the stage’s floor making Nesta wince just slightly from the sound.

“Like I said earlier, I’m Cassian Pine. And this.” He gestured to the dog. “Is Holly, and she’ll be trying out for the part of Moondog.”

Holly barked as if following up from what Cassian said. Her reddish gold fur glowed from the stage lights high up. She looked at Eris and Nesta, tilting her head, ears perked up. 

The nerves died away in Nesta, all that was left was a burning rage. A dog trying out for this? This was an insult to ballet, to art, to her livelihood. Chaos of fire and smoke rose from her eyes as she stood up from the table. “You have to be fucking kidding me.” 

“Did you actually believe that? She’s a dog, not Airbud.” Cassian smirked. Holly grumbled as she looked at Cassian again. “You’re not catching branches like how tight-ends catch footballs, goofball.”

“Mr. Pine, why the hell have you brought your dog here in the first place?” Nesta demanded.

The man shrugged. He had the gull, no, the audacity to shrug.

“I was visiting a few friends and it was too late to go back to the farm.”

“Do you understand how disrespectful you're bringing an animal, who isn’t a service animal by the way, to a stage like this? She’s actively ruining the floors.” Nesta pointed to the stage, glaring.

“Oh…Why didn’t you just say something before?” Cassian asked. But right as Nesta went to argue with him, he scooped up his dog into his arms. Holly seemed entirely unphased as she just relaxed in his hold.

Eris decided then to chime in. “Are you willing to put in the work? It won’t be an easy task, you know. We’ll need you at 125% every rehearsal. As you may not have a dancing background, we’ll be working with you on what steps to do during some of the dances.” He leaned back in his chair. “The rest is improvised.”

“I am, sir. I own a Winter Solstice tree farm on the outskirts of the city, so hard work runs in my everyday life. But…” Cassian trailed off as he looked at Nesta.

Squirming in her seat from his gaze, Nesta glanced away, feeling the heat crawl back into her cheeks. Her index finger lightly tapped on top of her hand, trying to regain her statue as she waited for Cassian to continue.

“I was greatly inspired by your work last year. I’m no dancer, but Winter Solstice is my favorite holiday. This year is the thirtieth anniversary of my mother’s passing, and while I could keep doing what I’m doing now, I wanted to do something different.”

Her chest seemed slightly sore from his words, but Nesta pushed her emotions down. They were not needed right now. The feeling of negativity flooded her mind and throat, trying to claim her next words. All Nesta wanted to do was scream. Instead she looked upon Cassian, his stare meeting hers. 

“Well, welcome to the show, Moondog.” Eris said.

“Are you serious?!”

“Are you fucking kidding me?!”

Cassian and Nesta said at the same time. A wide grin crawled over his lips as he adjusted Holly in his grasp. Nesta sneered up at him while he just chuckled.

“Rehearsals start in five days. We’ll email what you need and the schedule.”

“Thank you so much…” Cassian looked at Eris for an introduction. 

“Eris. How rude of me to not introduce myself before.” The director grinned before turning to Nesta.

“And this is–”

“Nesta. Nesta Archeron.” Cassian answered.

Her mouth gaped as her cheeks burned hot from the embarrassment. How the fuck does he remember my name?! Cassian made his way down the steps before placing Holly on the ground. The dog shook her body as she walked at her owner’s side.

“Oh? You’re acquainted with each other?” Eris asked, his voice sinking in curiosity.

“No!”

“Somewhat.”

Eris’ grin grew sinister as Nesta’s heart threw itself against her ribcage. Cassian wore a stupid dorkish smile, glancing at her. Nesta’s lip curled up in disgust.

“Well, private practices should help with the chemistry.” Eris suggested. He grabbed his bag, quickly packing his things before he walked up to Cassian. The two men shook hands before Eris said his goodbyes.

“Can’t wait to see you again soon, Jassian.  And don’t bring the dog again.”

Before Cassian could say anything else, Nesta followed Eris out the door. She needed her sanity for the next five days, knowing it would be ripped away by that man.

[wilds1de]

location: heartbreaker bar

featuring: darius ( @driftrz )

jihoon was fully contemplating on skipping the valentine's day celebrations. not only did he not care about the holiday, but he wasn't feeling particularly festive. he's here because xile convinced him by buying him a drink. so one drink became two, ultimately losing count. after the new year's party, he did decide he wouldn't be attending any other party sober. and he's keeping that promise! he's about to leave the bar when his eyes land on darius, doing a double take. things would've gone so differently if he was sober. he wouldn't be walking in his direction, for starters. he leans against the wall next to him. "good to know you're alive, at least." because at one point, jihoon was convinced the worst had happened to his friend. or ex friend, now. "so, how long were you planning to hide? didn't peg you for a hypocrite." his words are said with a bite in them, straight to the point. he's not one for confrontation usually. but he's not thinking his words or actions through, driven by the liquid courage and his annoyance and anger. but there is honesty in them, mirroring his actual thoughts on the whole situation. the betrayal still feels fresh.

[undermine-the-instinct]

Title: One Step Forward, Two Steps To The Right.

Cyno x Bard!Reader x Kaveh

Warnings: One instance of using physical force (Cyno prevents reader from leaving by grabbing their arm, resulting in a bruise.) ☆ Wc: 6.3K

♡ Likes and Reblogs appreciated!! ♡

Bard!reader masterlist

Cyno notices your vision soon after he starts hunting you.

He would have noticed it earlier, but you never use it and you always keep it hidden under the folds of your clothing. He suspected you had a vision; vision wielders all have a sort of aura, an elevated state of self. He supposes that's why he is so attracted to you. But he would have pegged you for a hydro, or anemo.

But you're not cool, or collected, like that. You're a Pyro. You flare and you flicker and you burn. He burns when he thinks of you.

Cyno wonders what fuels you, or what has hurt you in the past.

What are you doing in the Grand Bazaar, knowing that's where he could easily catch you if you try anything, like you usually do?

It's why you only come here when there is a sanctioned festival or party. You're still not allowed to perform, and Cyno is always there to make sure you don't, but you hum and sway with the performers. You want to join in. He can tell.

The sages have been allowing more festivals, if only to move eyes off the issue of their apparent hatred of the arts. Every Festival, every party, they send the matra. And every major gathering, especially one you would attend, they send Cyno.

It's an intimidation tactic. The Matra are enforcers, and the General Mahamatra is justice incarnate. When he stands with his jackal headdress, with his staff and regalia, and lightning in his eyes, the people feel off. Wary. The mood is dampened and water has always been a good conductor for Lightning. Cyno can see what is happening and a twinge of indignation crackles in his chest.

He doesn't know why you're here.

"I'm helping to set up the festival." You say, a crate in your arms.

"I wasn't made aware that a festival would be held here."

"That's because we only just got confirmation. And you just got back from some mission." How do you know that? Are you keeping tabs on him?

"We have only a few days to prepare. The invitations have been spread , the cooks are at work, and we're decorating." You shrug. You don't look pleased or wary to see him, and he still doesn't know how to feel about that. You always act so familiar.

"What kind of festival will it be?"

"The theater is celebrating its anniversary, as well as the birthday of the manager's son. He's returning from an internship in Liyue and turning 21."

"I see." He looks around at the hustle and bustle. People are rushing, they are smiling and excited. But there is a wide berth around him, and their eyes flicker over him and escape just as quickly. No one dares approach him but you.

"...I would think only theater members would be allowed to help with the preparations."

"They're accepting all helping hands." You counter him, your eyes not wavering. "Will you be attending the festival?"

"No. I have more pressing matters."

"You always have more pressing matters." You sigh and shuffle the crate in your hands. Is it heavy? It looks heavy.

"You never let up. Even when they put you to watch me at these things you never do anything. You wallflower. You just cross your arms and stay with that glare," you tilt your chin down and fake a glower. "Like we're personally offending you. I've heard that the other matra let loose sometimes." What?

"Who? When?" If there are any of them playing merry and making light of their duties, they deserve to be dealt with. But you shake your head in mock pity.

"Goodness, you're ruthless. I'm pretty sure there aren't any rules that say you're not allowed to sing or dance or eat at these things.

"Tell you what, I will be attending this next party. No doubt you'll be sent to watch me, so come. Relax. I'm sure you'll enjoy yourself." You tilt your head and smile.

There's a thin scratch on your cheek. Your nails look healthy and strong, did you scratch yourself? Brushing your stray hairs away? Was it something else? Did someone hurt you?

It's too easy to feel relaxed around you. You have this jovial, easygoing nature that makes Cyno curious about you. Like a cat winding about his ankles, he wants to be endeared by you. Dangerous, in this line of work. He shoves these feelings down, and his jaw tightens. He looks at your mouth.

"We are not friends. I'm sent to make sure that you remain in your place, nothing more or less." He turns his back to you. He still has to go to his office and file paperwork. He ought to go do that.

He thinks you shrug before he turns away.

"Well, anyways, I'll have something for you on the day of, so you can look forward to that."

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing is guaranteed yet, so I don't want to ruin the surprise. I'll let you know first thing if I get everything in order though, promise." You sound excited, and Cyno feels wary.

"..."

"...It's nothing bad, I promise."

"...Stay out of trouble, bard. Or I'll catch you." There's only one moment of silence while you shuffle with the crate. It is heavy.

"Hm. Well, only because you asked me to, Cyno." He whirls around, but you're already flouncing off with a grin and a pep in your step.

He feels like he watches you for far longer than is appropriate.

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

You were right, he was sent to watch you. Not like he doubted you or the sages. It was expected.

He's still working, so he keeps his jackal headdress. But it's a windy night, so he ops for coverage; the black top suits his character, the thin gold lines flashing in the fading sunlight. It matches his shoes too. His Salwar pants are comfortable and soft white.

He spent too much time fussing over this outfit. He had a brush to his hair before he remembered himself. He shouldn't have taken Tighnari's advice.

No, he shouldn't have told Tighnari about you at all. He visited and after checking up on Collei, he and Tighnari talked. Tighnari had asked him about work, and instead of avoiding the sensitive issues, like usual, he mentioned you.

The trouble you're causing. The fact that you always just toe the line. How you're everywhere, Cyno's chased you half across Sumeru at this point. The fact that you call him by his given name. How you like to invade his private space. How he lets you. The way you laugh-shriek and how loud it is; you catch eyes when you run from him with your lyre and laughter.

Tighnari asked him when he expects to see you again. He told him and asked him why he asked that. Tighnari just shot him an unimpressed look.

Earlier this morning a package arrived for him, from Tighnari. It was the outfit he's wearing now. He probably noticed how he doesn't alternate his outfits all that much.

He still thinks he shouldn't have worn this.

"Oh, oh wow! You look so different!" You bound through the crowd towards him, with all the mirth and crackling firelight in your eyes. You don't look any different than you normally do, but your eyes glow.

"It's too cool for my usual attire."

"And here I thought you just never felt the temperature. You look nice though." You rock back on your heels, hands behind your back.

"Better than nice actually. You look really really good. I guess you're going to take my advice and loosen up?"

"I'm here for work and nothing else." You chuckle, with an awkward yeah, I guess so, and look back to the growing crowd.

"Yeah, I expected that. I just finished helping set up the buffet, so I think I'm going to go see Miss Nilou for the other preparations. You'll stay right here?" He stays silent as confirmation.

"Might want to get a better spot if you are supervising. Miss Nilou is the opening act. Look, right there," you turn and point. But you put your hand on his bicep so that he turns with you, and he smothers the slight hitch of his breath. Your skin is beaded with sweat from the heat of the crowd. It's humid.

"That is the manager and his son. His name is Sheikh Zubayr, and his son is Najaf Zubayr. You might want to introduce yourself if you're gonna be here.

"Oh! I also have something to show you. Just so I wont get in any more trouble with you. It's that thing I told you about earlier. Here." From an inner pocket you pull out a folded piece of paper. The paper is thick and cream colored. Expensive. He unfolds it surreptitiously.

It's a form. An official form, one that requires multiple signatures from multiple authorities. Or a sage.

"....This form is for foreigners, and allows for you to use your vision in cases of defense. You're labeled as a pyro."

"And other instances as well! As long as it's non violent, I'm good to go!" You perk up on your tiptoes. His eyes narrow down at the paper, and then at you.

"How did you get this?" Foreigners are not an uncommon occurrence in Sumeru, but one with a vision is, especially one from so far away. Monstadt, the paper says. How fitting. Acquiring this signature would have taken several months, and you've only been here for a couple.

Furthermore, knowing the Sages intense dislike of you, having even one of them sign would never happen. Even getting this form would have taken you a good couple of weeks, if not months.

"It's lucky I don't need the Grand Sage's signature, right? Otherwise, this thing would've never been signed."

"What are you doing?" This strange infatuation aside, you're up to something, and Cyno is suspicious. His instincts have never failed him before, and he knows, he feels you're planning something.

The side of your mouth pulls into a grin.

"I am planning something." He feels you can read his mind sometimes. You shrug, and lean back out of his space. He watches you. You're still touching him.

"But nothing malicious. It's a secret, so sit tight for a bit, alright?"

A man waves you over and beckons towards the crowd. You let go of his arm.

"Ooh, I'm late. I'll see you later, 'kay?" Now it's Cyno's turn to grab you, halt you in your tracks. A flicker, fear? Anger? Flits over your face before you school it back to geniality.

"You're not going anywhere. What are you planning? What are you going to do?"

"Let go of me, Cyno." But he isn't here as Cyno. He is here as the General Mahamatra, and you're becoming more and more of a problem.

"Listen. We are not friends. We are not comrades. You are a nuisance and I will deal with you accordingly. I won't ask you again." He tightens his grip and pulls you towards him, when you try to wriggle away. You purposefully turn your face away.

"You suspect me on what grounds, General? Have I done anything to make it seem like I'd undermine the Akademia?"

"Yes." Because that is all you have done. You've breathed life into the mediocre lives of the Sumerian citizens, lives devoid of art or music or beauty just for the sake of it. You're a spectacle, and Sumeru is so starved for a marvel that anything you do is a scandal blown out of proportion, especially with him on your case. Especially that he hasn't caught you yet.

Your eyes darken, and there is a flash. "Fine. Do you think I'm capable of harming people?" He looks into your face and sees the mask you've drawn up. You are still, but your eyes glow, and it is strange. Like standing in a dark, starlit desert, watching fire burn far off on a desert dune. Like something approaching, a cat slinking in the sands.

"...Yes." He lets you go. Because fire is approaching, and the desert is always cold at night. How much longer can he pretend to himself it's not what it is?

"....Go to the manager, if you really want to know. He'll tell you. I can promise you I'm not planning anything malicious," you sneer.

"But I don't think you'll believe me." You snatch the paper back from his hands, quick like a fire sprite.

And you disappear. He doesn't let himself watch you leave, and immediately walks over to the two men you pointed out. But he noticed the way you held your arm.

They don't see him until he's only a few meters away, and even then it's more so they notice the crowd staring and parting around him. He can see their faces pale as he stalks closer.

They both bow their heads and sputter and look at the ground through introductions. He gets straight to the point.

"Are you the manager of the theater?"

"Yes! As well as Playwrite. It's a rather small troupe so you'll see people wear several hats. I also do composing, choreography, stage design, and action direction.

"My son here, before he left me with so much work, often helped with costume design, action and stage direction."

Well someone likes to talk about themselves. "The bard from Monstadt. What affiliation do they have with your theater?" The manager shakes his head.

"Oh, them? Nothing malicious." Huh. You said the same thing. "The bard has taken an apprenticeship at the theater."

"Apprenticeship?"

"Monstadt is the land of wine and freedom, bards and wind. As a manager and connoisseur of the arts, I'm intrigued by what they have to offer. Normally I would be skeptical of a new member, it's best to be taught younger, but they seem to have some experience under their belt already."

"With all the fuss they kicked up in Sumeru I can imagine what experience they gained elsewhere."

Najaf clears his throat, both looking uncomfortable at the reminder that their newest member was essentially a wanted criminal.

"Does an apprenticeship at the Zubayr theater include the form that allows them to use their vision? What do the arts have to do with that?" He pales, but his son is more bold.

"It has plenty to do with the arts!" He yells. People turn to look like they haven't been eavesdropping, and he flushes, coughing into his hand.

"Pardon me. I'm not as particularly enthused as my father is on this matter, but I feel inclined to speak."

"Oh, by all means, go ahead." He falters for a second, but plows on with gusto.

"Visions have only been given to those who have been acknowledged by the Gods and Celestia. Their wills, their ambitions are forces of nature that shape the world and push civilizations. The bard has dedicated their life to music and the arts. That alone speaks volumes to how great their passion is."

"If that is what is enough to grant a vision I guess mine is due to a great passion for justice?"

"Exactly!" He meant it as a jibe but he goes on.

"The theater has always promoted the idea that we use our bodies as a means for our craft. Just as you have an immense passion for upholding justice, the bard has an immense passion for art, music and the like.

"Isn't it amazing how two seemingly opposing ideologies are both acknowledged as worthy by Celestia? How you use your Visions to exact your ambition is only determined by yourself."

"...You said you were studying law?"

"Yes! I'm studying in Liyue. I managed to land an internship with the General secretary of the Liyue Qixing."

"Is that right?"

"Yes. I'm on break now."

"Are you aware of the process of acquiring this specific form in Sumeru?" He blinks in shock, then confusion.

"What? No–"

"First you have to go to the office for Weapon and Vision Licensing and submit a form. This form is only for expressing your desire to wield your weapon or vision. If you're a citizen of Sumeru you have to have your vision cataloged on your citizenship ID. Which is a whole other matter."

Both looked like they wanted to walk away but he kept on, not releasing them from his tirade.

"It's very tedious, so I guess you can imagine how hard it would be if you were a foreigner instead. You have to estimate your time of stay and have the Akademiya verify your nationality with your country of origin, which takes weeks, and is another form entirely. Then the fees. Four hundred mora for citizens and five hundred twenty for foreigners. The rest is pretty much the same.

"You need proof of citizenship, proof of residence, proof of any military and or government service, all criminal records, a letter of necessity to prove why you need this permit, and recently, a photo to identify, with the new contraption from Fontaine. A Kamera." Cyno crossed his arms and stared down the two men.

"The whole process can take up to six to nine months for ordinary folks. I am not including the additional forms, like three letters minimum of reference stating that you are a person of moral character. Nor the interview, nor the vision inspection, or the signature needed by a sage or another high authority."

"That is a long…and tedious process."

"It is." Cyno nods. "So tell me how a foreigner, heavily disliked by the sages, manages to acquire this form after merely a few weeks? A foreigner constantly being chased by me, of all people? How?"

"I…I don't know." They looked at one another, father and son, mirror faces of fear and confusion. The son wrung his hands and stepped forward.

"They have been nothing but courteous and helpful though, I can assure you. We've been exchanging letters for a few weeks since before my arrival.

"They expressed their desire to join a troupe and I recommended them to my father, who held an interview and audition. He wouldn't allow someone to join who would potentially damage the theater's reputation."

"Yet that is exactly what he's done."

"What? No he-"

"Helpful indeed. I'd imagine that the notoriety is bringing your theater more guests than usual, yes?" The manager was surely a proud man, his gaze was affronted and ashamed, but he didnt drop his head. His son looked between them, aghast.

"I was skeptical, but after both the interview and audition I was fully convinced," Zubayr says, scratching at his head.

"Talent is more important than hard work when it comes to the arts. It's something I've learned as my years as resident manager of the troupe.

"There's so many things you can just do mindlessly, with no drive or passion, but art is not one of them. Talent will always trump hard work, but I don't turn away those with true passion amd determination." He shrugs.

"And they have both in spades. They're just more of a hard worker. In work, as on stage, one must act with gumption! As long as they have those traits and a sincere wish to perform, then they are welcome to my troupe. That is all."

"And yet your troupe is reputable for having such high standards to join." Cyno could scoff, what a gust of hot sir

"You haven't had many new members for years even, and yet, the bard seemed to join no problem. Do you give a pass to foreigners?"

"Years ago the Sabzeruz festival was only performed by dance troupes from abroad, and on a temporary stage no less," the son speaks.

"So you simply can't just suspect them because of this form and an apprenticeship." Najaf steps forward, in front of his father. Cyno wonders, for a law student, where he gets his logic from.

"I've heard rumors that you've been sent to try and apprehend them any chance you can. On what grounds? For what reason?"

Who is man, so righteously angry, and, why does it just set something off? He crossed his arms and stared down the young man, irritated.

"You're defending them rather adamantly."

"Well….because! They're a foreigner in a land far away from home, and so hostile too. If they weren't being chased down I'm sure they would still send in the form. They still need to be able to defend themselves. From the Eremites, drunks and thieves and crazy folk and the like. Even from you. I don't find that suspicious in the least."

"Well I do. Why would they need to defend themselves from the Eremites? Why would they need to defend themselves from me if they've done nothing wrong?"

"They have the right to defend themselves, not because they are suspicious, but because your actions and your intentions are." He snarled. Cyno's anger rose, a heated thing like a mirage in the desert.

"That's why I'm the matra here. I'm trained to stay suspicious and mark down the littlest thing. I'm the suspicious one here? You might actually make me laugh. I don't doubt the bard's reasons, I doubt the methods. Their intentions. How quick the whole process passed."

He is getting tired of this conversation, and the foolishly prideful man before him, speaking not a word against the allegations he knew he was guilty of but still thinking he wasn't in the wrong somehow.

Most irritable was this one here, so righteously indignant and proud of it too. Where did this arrogance come from? What about you made people so reckless and foolhardy?

He sighed, and pinched his brow. "I assume this is the first time you've met the bard in person?"

"Yes. They are a kinder, more considerate and lovely person than I ever would have thought, from all that I've heard. I can vouch on their behalf wholeheartedly." Cyno sighed, it was right there. The fool was obviously enamored, his testimony was already compromised. Just more work for him.

"I'll be sending matra to interview the rest of your theater in the coming days," they gasped, the typical response.

"I'll also have you fill out a form of absence for these days, as well as I'll be taking the bard to my office to interrogate. If the bard is really apprenticing here as you say." They spluttered and Cyno turned to the son.

"Some advice boy; before studying the law of another land, try memorizing your own first." He saw the red look of shame and anger seep across his face before he turned and walked away from the two.

Anger and indignation flared in his chest. Hot. Irrational. You were up to something, and more importantly, you had help. You were garnering sympathy and endearment among the people. And some very influential people at that. The signature he saw at the bottom of the form said it all.

Al Haitham.

He would need to have a word with him too.

Suddenly the crowd quieted, and music started to play.

He didn't notice Miss Nilou had taken her place on the stage. She wore a soft lavender, a lovely ombre set off by the sun's set.

She was graceful. Her movements were precise and deliberate and she moved with a definite elegance. Cyno could see the years of hard work that she put in and toiled for, the bend of the wrists and the arching ankles, the slow turns on beat. From a criticizing point of view, she was lovely.

Cyno was not biased against the arts. Not dance, not music, not painting or weaving or performing. Everyone is a master of their own craft, expert of their own passion. Who is he to say that art holds no value simply because he couldn't see it? Or that Miss Nilou was somehow beneath him for pursuing performance instead of something more erudite?

Even you. He saw the form, and while he was preoccupied with his suspicions, he did read it over. Every note of reference and interest his eyes flew over and picked up, bits of trivia like digging and finding gold.

You had a life, before you came here. A full one. He wonders what brought you so far from home.

Miss Nilou's vision glowed, and the humid air around her shimmered an aqua blue in waves and folds. Her hair, bright like cherries flew behind her, a calm smile on her lips as she danced for the awestruck crowd. She ended with a twirl and kneeled, palms held outwards towards the crowd. The crowd clapped and cheered their awe.

But the music hadn't stopped playing. People looked at one another in confusion as she rose to her feet, standing still, her hands above her head.

The elemental energy had faded, and the sun was fully set now, but it was that in between time of twilight, where the world was dunked into this ultramarine blue. Like Celestia took their hand and sunk Teyvat into the depths of the ocean. It was dark. He could barely see.

The lanterns suddenly burst into flame, one by one. The crowd shouted and looked at each one as it was lit, huddling like animals, but Cyno was looking at the stage to see where the flames came from.

He was looking at you.

You wore red, how obvious. There at least was a veil covering the lower half of your face, and the Pyro vision at your hip burned the same heat while you lit the lanterns. Gold at your ears and waist and throat, bangles on your wrists, delicate beads at your ankles. The music picked up speed, and you both started to dance.

It slipped his mind to ask who you were apprenticing under. Of course it would be Miss Nilou.

He didn't recognize the dance. Miss Nilou danced with a levity, she spun on the tips of her toes and extended her arms and legs, spinning circles around you. You swirled and clapped your hands, stomped your feet, setting the tempo with the click-clack of your shoes, following her arc around the stage.

Like ocean waves, or flickering flames, where one ebbed the other flowed. Miss Nilou covered your weak spots, where you overextended or fell short, as the more experienced performer, while you grinned beneath your sheer veil and lifted your chin high.

He didn't understand what Zubayr meant when he said you were just moreover a hard worker. Yes, you were not as polished or refined, but you were beautiful.

Stop. Why does he keep thinking these things?

He really should stop thinking of these things.

Bubbles shone in the air before you vaporized them into a shimmering mist with the flames at your fingertips. It was so humid. He couldn't breathe.

He still had a job to do, and tore his gaze away, towards the crowd, cataloging their reactions. Some cheered and screamed, others stomped their feet and clapped their hands to the beat. Others stared at the spectacle, awestruck or proud, like the manager, staring at his star of the theater.

His son was staring at the stage too. Proud yes, but something else. His grin was too…dopey, eyes half lidded and face red while he clapped along. It hit him a second later what he was looking at. That he was looking at you. He was staring at you like that, like a fool in love.

"..."

And a fool he was, the idiot. It was just as he suspected. You didn't reciprocate. You were just using him as a sort of shield, protection. You'd never give him the time of day. Of course you were just playing with him.

He just watched you dance. He's never really seen you dance before. Tail ends of a jig did not count. It was obvious to a keen eye that Miss Nilou was the senior of you both but you made up for your inexperience with confidence. She leapt and landed daintily, smiling, her leg an arch lifted high.

Your fingers snapped sparks and your feet were a whirlwind, setting the beat higher and higher, your loose hair curling around your ears with all the humidity. There was a sort of confidence there, a fierce joy. He noticed it in the smile half hidden behind your veil. He noticed a bruise on your bicep.

A bruise on your bicep.

Right…there. Barely covered by your sleeve. How? When? Was that him? Was that from when he grabbed you? Did he do that?

His chest twisted like someone pressed a brand to it.

He didn't mean to.

Your hair, again. It whirls around while you spin, following Miss Nilou while she flows around the perimeter of the stage. And when you both finally reach the front, Miss Nilou drops into a bow. You however stomp your foot with a shout, your hands crossed above your head like wings. You're both breathing heavily, but smiling, triumphant.

He feels a lurch in his stomach then, for some reason.

The crowd is silent for about three seconds, before they erupt into screams and applause. Miss Nilou rises, and you take her hand to bow.

Cyno spares one last glance, and walks away. He's seen all he needs to.

The air is cooler the farther he walks, kissing his brow and sweat from his skin. He takes off his headdress and runs a hand through his hair, it's a bit tangled. His feet ache. He's used to walking barefoot.

The night darkens as he passes the open streets and turns the empty corners, everyone is at the party, or home.

It's cold at night.

"Hey!" He hears your voice and jolts. Your footsteps are light, but the anklets there jingle as you approach.

"Hey…Why am I the one chasing you down now?" He doesn't turn, but he knows it's you.

You're huffing, out of breath. He hears the swish of your fabric when you shuffle.

"I thought you were supposed to…watch over the party."

"I was to watch over you. Seeing as you've already gotten on stage and performed, and the adoration from your newfound fans, I'd say I have enough to report on."

"Oh, so you only came to build a case against me?" Your voice is thick with sarcasm.

"...No." And he wont elaborate. He puts his headdress on. A lock is tangled and he nearly snags it. He ignores it.

"You have clearance for your vision and an apprenticeship with Miss Nilou. The theater wouldn't have pulled something so risky if they felt it jeopardized their future, especially when they are already on tense terms with the Akademiya. A point to you, I guess." He turns, and you're crouched with your hands on your knees, still breathing heavily.

"...You vixen."

"Vixen? Me?"

"You seduced the Grand Scribe to get you that form and sign it."

You shoot up, hands on your hips.

"I did not. The Grand Scribe oh so graciously directed me through the process. I already carry all my papers so it went by in a breeze."

"Little liar. Also, your three letters of reference were from the manager, Miss Nilou, and his son. You seduced him too."

You huff, red as your clothing. "No! The manager suggested I become acquainted with him by letter before we met. We've shared letters discussing Monstadt law versus Liyue and Sumeru. Nothing more or else. He's not even my type."

Then what is? Shut up.

He sighs. "I don't believe you. I'll have to check to make sure." He looks you up and down, and you look offended when he scoffs. You cross your arms and raise an eyebrow, as if daring him to speak aloud.

You really do look lovely.

Shut up.

"You did a good job with the boy, anyways. He was defending you quite adamantly. He's probably smitten. He was staring at you like a blind man seeing the moon for the first time. A successful seduction."

"Stop it. And you're what, a year older or so? He's not a boy." He gives you a look, like you should know better. He doesn't remark on how you didn't deny or refute what he said.

"A boy, still."

"Hm. Well, how about you?"

"What about me?"

"Do you want me to seduce you?" You could hear a pin drop, the hitch of his last breath, before he forces the anger to the forefront, drowning out the tiny, eager voice in his head before it damns him.

"...Do not try to endear yourself to me. Do not try to seduce me either. It won't work."

"Are you sure about that?" If he was less composed his mouth would drop from your audacity, but he stays silent and you chuckle.

"You seemed pretty responsive to my advances last time..."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"When I took your virginity, Cyno." He chokes, and you burst out into laughter. When he recovers you're still laughing, and he glares at you with all the anger he could muster.

"That's not what happened and you know it." He hisses.

"Yeah, yeah, it was just a kiss I know…. You were acting like it was more though."

"No, I wasn't, stop laughing."

"Okay, fine, I'll stop…" you giggle some more when his glare doesn't drop.

"No, no, seriously, I'm just playing with you! I'm sorry, I know I go overboard sometimes." You look at him.

"But honestly, you need it! You're so uptight."

"I told you multiple times, we are not friends. I am the General Mahamatra."

"And I don't really like him. I would like to be friends with Cyno, with the allegedly terrible jokes."

"Allegedly terrible–"

You roll your eyes. "It's like primary school all over again, asking to sit at someone's table. Would you like to be friends, Cyno? You can tell me your jokes and I'll share my music with you. Is that a good enough trade?"

He's angry at himself for how tempting that sounds. It's stupid. He wants to joke with you, he wants to hear your music and your laughter and watch you perform. Who the hell are you? Why did you have to come here of all places and try to ruin him? You make him doubt so many things.

His eyes fall to your bicep. The bruise is faint, but will darken as the hemoglobin is chemically broken down. If you don't see a healer, it could take weeks. You follow his eyes and catch him looking, and move to fix your sleeve. You drop your gaze.

"Ah, yeah, I forgot, I already messed up one time, who knows what you'll do to me next!" You put your hands on your cheeks in mock fear, but Cyno can hear how forced your tone sounds.

I didn't mean to. I'm sorry.

"You're so scary sometimes, you know that? And I was telling the truth too…"

And I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. You're one of the only ones not scared of me.

"I should back up, right? Right…. I'm probably acting too comfortable around you as a person of interest, right? That's bad business…" You wince, more like a hiss. "Sorry."

Stop it, don't be. Don't be. Are you cold? It gets cold at night.

Stop it now.

You can move closer to me.

Shut. Up.

"Well, anyways, you watched us dance, yeah? Whaddya think?" You lean in, eager. There is none of your thorns or snark from earlier, but Cyno sees the way you grip your wrist behind your back, the tight corners of your grin. Your eyes shine an odd light.

"...I've never seen that kind of dance before. What was it?"

"Nilou danced a sort of Sumeru court-ballet fusion, we worked on it together."

"And you?"

"It's a few moves from Natlan, I learned it from a traveling troupe during my own travels." you say, striking a pose like you're ready to dance again. You give a twirl and smile at him. But the silence and weight between you two is heavy, and he's sure you only see the livid sear of his eyes, just a sliver underneath his hat. You shiver.

"Your form said you were from Monstadt."

"Yeah, thats where I'm from. I mean, I am a bard, you know...." you shrug and sway.

The silence stretches for so long and for once, he just doesn't know what to say. It's not like he could fall back one of his jokes to try and make you laugh, or dispel this tense moment at the least. He's said it so many times, you are not friends.

Even if he would like to be. Even if he wonders about something more than that.

Even if he dreams of your smiles.

"Um, well, anyways, I just wanted to uh….thank you."

"For what?"

"For coming, even if you're not staying."

"....I didn't come for you, I came to work."

"I understand that, but….I don't think that's the whole truth either. My two other…friends didn't show, so I was glad to see one familiar face in the crowd at least. Thanks." You mumble at the end of your sentence, and you won't meet his eyes, shuffling around on your feet.

You're bashful. He's never seen this before either. It's strange.

"...Um. I guess I should get going. People are going to think you kidnapped me!" You laugh and point back, so you wave at him and walk away.

He reaches out to grab your arm, but he remembers before and falters. The silk of your sleeve slips through his fingers, and that is enough to make you turn, a hum on your lips.

What is he going to say to make you stay? Why was he trying to make you stay? The soft blur of your mouth looks feather soft in the fallen twilight. He didn't know he was staring until you hum again, and tug your arm a bit to get his attention.

"...On your form. It said....I didn't know you used to be a knight." Immediately your expression shutters off, and you step back. That wasn't his intention.

"Yeah, um, back in Monstadt. I was a part of the Knights of Favonius. I worked as a lieutenant under the Cavalry Captain and Quartermaster." You shrug, but you take another step back, away.

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Huh?"

"I wasn't questioning you," he lets your sleeve go. "You don't have to say anything about it if you don't want to." Why? This could be valuable information. He should be pressing you.

"Oh!" For once you looked shocked, and you force a laugh.

"Oh, yeah, uh, sorry about that. Well, it's not something I keep private exactly, I just don't talk about it much. It was a jib, I did it, I didn't like it so I left."

"That was a very high position though. What made you leave, was the pay not good enough?" It was the lightest jest he could make, but it didn't ease you. Something bitter crawled over your face, even as you smiled.

"Yeah, it…It kinda wasn't." You shuffle for a few odd seconds, awkward, before you just turn and walk away.

"Bard." He doesnt want to see you leave loke this. You turn back before the dark streets could swallow you up.

"...You were good today. On stage." Your eyes widen, and you look so shocked. But slowly, almost inevitably, a smile over takes your face, wide and pulling at your red cheeks, squinting your eyes. He feels that lurch in his belly again.

"I was?"

"You were." You huff a laugh, bright spark in the dark you are.

"You can just say I'm a good dancer."

"And inflate your ego some more? You're not supposed to add oxygen to a fire." You stop walking backwards with a quizzical grin, tilt your head. But then your face lights up in understanding, and you laugh, and flit away.

He hears the crowd cheer as you return, too far away to hear your reply, and he walks off.

The night is cold. He's burning. With curiosity, irritation, surely the only feelings you invoke in him. The only ones he could allow. Nothing more or less.

Even if it is hard to suppress a smile of his own as he walks away. Wide and elated like yours, dopey like the manager's son. What did he call him, an idiot?

Yeah. An idiot he was.

Note: Nilou's dancing in game is actually based off Persian court dancing, and the Sogdian whirl dance, which is an ancient Iranian dance performed by he Sogdian merchant dancers, that was popularized in China during the Tang Dynasty.

Since monstadt is based off Germany, and reader is from both Monstadt and Natlan decent (and natlan seems to have spanish/indigenous influences) reader chose to do Flamenco and helped Nilou blend some ballet into her usual style. Even though Flamenco came from the Andalusian Roma people who were from the Indian subcontinent, particularly northwest India, and German theatrical dance lacked a unified movement until the 20th century.

Most German dances Ive researched are in male/female pairs, or a big group, but Germany for a small time was a significant center for ballet, especially when French choreographer Jean-Georges Noverre's attended Stuttgart (1760-1767)

(I've also heard Nilou's dancing is influenced by a tradition Persian dance, a sword dance called "Raghs-R Shamshir". But that's neither here nor there.)

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Writing Patterns!

Rules: list the first line of your last 10 (posted) fics and see if there's a pattern!

Tagged by @exhuastedpigeon @wikiangela @cal-daisies-and-briars @rainbow-nerdss @tizniz @puppyboybuckley @spotsandsocks @thekristen999 @hippolotamus and @aroeddiediaz thank you loves!

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You've got me whipped (Explicit, 10.8k)

It had only been a matter of time, Eddie reflects, before Buck did something really stupid. He’s heard all about the days of Buck 1.0, where Buck was very much act first, think later, and Hen had given him a thorough retelling of how Buck had scaled a crane after Eddie had been shot, imminent sniper threat be damned, but this is the first time he’s seen Buck go completely, well, Buck, and put himself into an insane amount of danger.

In a drought I'll give you water (Explicit, 8.2k)

Eddie’s hanging out the washing when he notices it. Just for the record, it’s not like he regularly inspects Buck’s underwear, thank you very much, but he’d felt something tacky on the inside of the flimsy fabric when he’d been about to peg it up, and had investigated like any sane person would do.

Kilty Pleasures (Explicit, 8k)

When Eddie had suggested that he and Buck attend a Scottish festival he’d seen advertised, he hadn’t really expected Buck to take him up on the offer, much less turn up at home two days later with two kilts and a shit eating grin.

With you I'm home (Teen, 20.6k) - WIP

“Daddy.” “Hmmm, go t’ sleep, Aid.” “Daddy, up!” “Five more minutes.” “Up now, Daddy!”

Play me like a fiddle (Explicit, 34k) MY BELOVED MUSICIAN FIC

Eddie Diaz likes to think he is a strong man. Physically and mentally.

Buck's Baby (By Accident) (General, 119k)

Buck had just gotten off a long 24-hour shift and was finally relaxing on his couch, beer in hand and TV set to a station that showed crappy reality shows. The shift had been taxing, with the alarm going off all night for various medical calls and then a five-alarm fire that had taken a few hours to get under control. Bobby’s dinner had cheered him up a little and had gotten him through the drive home, but he’d been relieved to finally pull up in the parking lot of his apartment building. Buck had the next 3 days off and planned to spend those days doing as little as possible. He’d organised to meet Eddie and Christopher at the zoo the next day, but the meeting had been organised for late enough in the afternoon that he could sleep in. Hen was going on a brief holiday with Karen for their anniversary and Chimney had made it clear that he and Maddie were not to be disturbed as they were trying for a baby and apparently Maddie was in her fertile time. Buck screwed up his nose as he remembered how thrilled his brother-in-law had seemed at the idea of a weekend of sex with his sister. It was not something he needed to think of right now.

Fucking Finally (Finally Fucking) (Explicit, 3.9k)

The car ride to the hotel felt much longer than it was, mostly because Eddie was fighting the urge to shove his hands down Buck’s pants that second. It was clear Buck was fighting similar urges as he fidgeted in the passenger seat, glancing over at Eddie and biting his lip every so often. When they pulled into the parking lot, Eddie quickly grabbed an overnight back he’d stashed in the back seat.

Burning with Need (Explicit, 3.8k)

The hot July sun was beating down on Buck’s bare back as him and Eddie hiked through Franklin Canyon Park, enjoying one of the few days off that aligned for them. It was a weekday, so Christopher was at school and, being bored and childless, the two men had decided that a hike was exactly the right activity to pass the time. They’d driven through Beverly Hills to get to the bottom of the trails, wistfully staring at the lavish homes and comparing notes on what they’d buy for their family if they had that much money. Eddie, it seemed, went for the more understated homes, generally single story with a large backyard, whereas Buck was of the mind of the more rooms the better, picking out large sprawling mansions that Eddie claimed would be an absolute nightmare to clean.

In sickness and in health (General, 3.7k)

When Eddie woke up with a pounding headache and a nose full of snot, he knew he was fucked. He wasn’t generally one to get sick, something he put down to his immune system constantly getting small doses of exposure to viruses between his job and parenting an elementary-school aged child, but when he did fall ill, he fell hard. He blearily creaked open an eyelid, squinting as the morning light filled his room, and fumbled with his phone to switch off his alarm. Flopping against his pillows, Eddie let out a load groan which quickly transformed into a hacking cough. Deep down he knew there was no way he was going to manage to get to work that day but he pulled back the covers and pushed himself off the bed regardless. He barely got two steps before the room spun sickeningly and he had to grasp his dresser to keep himself upright. With a sigh, Eddie accepted defeat and dragged himself back to bed, pulling up Bobby’s number as he settled back against the pillows, wiping his nose with the back of his hand as he did so.

Your Hands on my Body (Explicit, 1.9k)

Buck stood under the cold blast of the shower in Eddie’s bathroom, willing his erection to subside. It was the first morning in 3 weeks of staying with his friend that he’d woken up with morning wood, all because of a dream he’d had about Eddie. Buck wasn’t usually one to have sexy dreams about his friends and this one had him unusually hot and bothered. He could feel his heartbeat pulsing in his groin as his erection jutted proudly out from his body. When he first got into the shower, Buck had had full intentions of drowning himself with cold water and willing his erection away, but it looked as though that wasn’t going to happen. It almost seemed that the more he tried to ignore it, the harder he got. He tried firmly to not think of Eddie but all he could see in his mind’s eye was Eddie in the ocean, water dripping from his torso, his swimming trucks delicately cradling his package in a way that made Buck’s mouth water.

My writing style has changed SO MUCH. I have 2 eras, the before Buck's Baby era and the after Buck's Baby era and I really learned how to 1. be more concise and 2. where the enter button on my keyboard was adkjhashkdj. Recently I've been going for short starting sentences it seems.

Tagging some mutuals if you want to do it!

@theotherbuckley @daffi-990 @watchyourbuck @disasterbuckdiaz @bucksbackwardcap @fortheloveofbuddie @jesuisici33 @steadfastsaturnsrings @wildlife4life @evanbegins @slightlyobsessedwitheverything @spagheddiediaz @kitteneddiediaz @elvensorceress @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @smilingbuckley @actuallyitsellie @epicbuddieficrecs @sunflowerdiaiz

[hawkinself]

A New Melody

Eddie Van Halen x Valerie Bertinelli

Chapter Three: A New Melody

The house was quiet, save for the soft rustle of cards being shuffled and dealt on the dining room table. Your brothers had been at it for hours, playing hand after hand of gin rummy, the kind of mindless activity that filled the void of waiting. The clock on the wall ticked past midnight, and you tried not to glance at it for the hundredth time. The waiting was unbearable, and the hope clinging to each passing second felt like a weight pressing on your chest.

And then it happened. The phone rang.

Patrick and David exchanged knowing looks as you scrambled to answer. “Hello?” you said, trying to keep your voice steady, casual.

“Val?” The voice on the other end was unmistakable—warm, with a hint of shyness. “It’s Ed.”

A rush of relief and excitement hit you all at once. “Ed! Hi!” Your voice lifted, betraying your attempt at cool.

“Sorry it took me so long to call,” he said, a bit sheepishly. “We’ve been on the move nonstop. I’m in Beaumont, Texas, right now.”

“It’s okay,” you said quickly, not wanting to sound like you’d been counting the days. “How’s the tour?”

“It’s been good, busy as hell. But, uh, we’re heading to Norman, Oklahoma, in two days for a festival,” he said, his tone shifting. “Do you want to come?”

A smile spread across your face before you even answered. “Yeah, I’d love to.”

“Great,” he said, and you could hear the relief in his voice. “I’ll have a limo pick you up from the airport. Can’t wait to see you.”

“Me too,” you said softly.

You hung up and turned to find your brothers grinning at you. “Well?” Patrick asked, leaning back in his chair.

Trying to play it cool, you couldn’t hide the excitement bubbling inside. “I’m going to Oklahoma.”

Two days later, you stepped off the plane in Norman, Oklahoma, greeted by a sleek black limousine waiting just outside the terminal. The driver opened the door for you, and you slid into the cool leather interior, feeling a mix of nerves and exhilaration.

The drive to the University of Oklahoma was surreal. The scenery blurred by as your mind raced. When you arrived, the band’s road manager met you at the backstage entrance, draping an all-access pass around your neck.

“Welcome back,” he said with a grin. “Ed’s been talking about you nonstop.”

Your cheeks flushed as he led you through the maze of corridors to where the band was getting ready. The roar of the crowd filtered in from outside, a steady hum of excitement. And then you saw him—Eddie, leaning against a wall, his guitar strapped over his shoulder, adjusting the tuning pegs. His face lit up the moment he saw you.

“Hey,” he said, his voice soft, as if it were just the two of you in the room.

“Hey,” you replied, your heart fluttering.

He stepped closer, his hand grazing yours briefly before pulling you into a quick hug. “You made it.”

“Of course,” you said, smiling up at him. “I wouldn’t miss it.”

Before you could say more, the road manager signaled it was time. Ed gave you a quick wink as he adjusted his guitar strap and followed the band toward the stage. You found your spot on the side, where you could see everything.

The show was electric. Van Halen owned the stage, and Eddie was in his element. His fingers danced over the fretboard, pulling out notes that seemed to defy logic. Yet, every time he switched guitars or had a moment to glance your way, he did. There was a new kind of energy in his performance, something raw and vulnerable that made your chest tighten.

Back at the hotel, you sat on the balcony overlooking the quiet streets. The night was warm, the stars scattered across the sky like diamonds. Eddie opened up in a way he hadn’t before, sharing stories about his childhood, his family, and his journey with music.

“My dad was everything,” he said, his voice tinged with reverence. “He taught me to love music, to feel it, you know? He’d sit with me for hours, just playing. I owe everything to him.”

You reached out, placing a hand on his. “He must be so proud of you.”

Eddie smiled, though it was bittersweet. “He is. But my mom… she still thinks this whole rock-and-roll thing is a phase. She’s waiting for me to get a real job.”

You laughed softly. “She’ll come around. How could she not? You’re a rock god, Eddie.”

He shook his head, his grin modest. “I’m just a guy who loves playing guitar.”

The two of you talked until the early hours, your words flowing as easily as the night breeze. Eddie was a mix of contradictions—an undeniable genius on stage, yet shy and introspective in private. It was a combination that drew you in deeper with every passing moment.

As the sky began to lighten, he walked you to your room. “Thanks for coming out here,” he said, his voice low.

“Thanks for inviting me,” you replied, lingering in the doorway.

For a moment, you just stood there, the silence stretching between you, heavy with unspoken feelings. Then he leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek. “Goodnight, Val.”

“Goodnight, Ed.”

You closed the door, your heart racing, knowing that whatever this was, it was only just beginning.

[magicalbats]

Kinktober Day 17: Threesome

Rating: R-18+

Word Count: 7513

Warnings:Afab!reader, gendered language, f/f/m threesome, cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, pegging, piv sex, ass to vagina, double penetration

A/N: I know this is probably common sense but just to be clear - I do not recommend engaging in ass to vagina or even ass to mouth irl! It’s hot as hell as a fantasy but no one wants the kind of infection that could potentially cause! Always practice safe sex guys! Health comes first! 👏😤

⭐

Hushed laughter filters through the cabin, secretive and soft. The playful sound only seems to emphasize the rustle of clothes, feet on the floor, hands caressing the other's body with the stilted whisper of contact. Even the ever present groan of ocean waters lapping at the ship to gently rock the hull is not enough to conceal the static shuffle of two people indulging in one another but it was safe here, far away from any prying eyes. A haven for simple hedonism. 

Your knees sink into the downy mattress next to his hips as you climb into Kazuha’s lap and he welcomes you in with open arms that curl around your body to pull you close against him. A slow breath of contentment sighs out of you to tease some of the loose flyaways in his hair. He tips his head back, issuing a quiet hum, and gives you that always placid smile when you get settled on top of his thighs. Bringing your arms up, you wrap them around his neck and lean in, and he does the same. Your lips meet in a savory, unhurried kiss while his hands knead around your waist, tugging you into a tortuously slow grind on top of him. 

The two of you retreated down here not long after the festivities got into full swing up on the deck for some privacy and entertainment of your own while the rest of the crew partied for half the night. It was no secret that Kazuha was a lightweight so he was often barred from taking part in any celebrations that involved drinking no matter how much he pouted or sulked about it, and this time was no different. The captain had been adamant that he was to stay away from the booze and you’d decided to keep him company so he didn’t feel quite so put out about it. You suspected he actually preferred it this way, though. Kazuha was a little too keen on satisfying life’s simple pleasures to decline the gratification of another’s touch. 

And he kisses you, slow and easy, while his hands map out the curve of your body. Those long fingers dip into the bend of your waist before dragging higher to palm at your ribcage with a tight squeeze. Your breath puffs out in a stilted exhale, but he just takes that opportunity to deepen the exchange. The way his tongue dances with yours feels poetic, almost; confident and enticing yet so gentle at the same time, so light it masterfully pulls you into his pace as if of your own volition. Rolling your hips over his lap, you arch and press your breasts into his chest as one hand slides up into his hair to close around the roots. That makes him moan, and you smile against his mouth. 

Quickly smiling as well, Kazuha wraps his arms around you once more so he can pull you down with him when he plops back to sprawl out on the bed. Thoroughly tangled in each other now, you shift to lay next to him on your side and throw your leg over his hip when he nudges himself up against you again. He continues to kiss you through it all, even when he grinds his stiffened cock into the stifling hot space between your legs. A slow motion shudder works through you as you push back, gradually falling into a steady push and pull with one another. Just enjoying the press of each other's bodies, the quiet promise of more to come. Bigger things, better things. 

Oh, you could hardly contain your excitement. 

“Do you think we’ll have to wait long?” He asks when he finally separates his mouth from yours a lifetime later. His always soft voice is a bit raspy with desire, thicker, and you reach up to brush some of that silky pale hair back behind his ear. 

“Doubt it. If it was just one of us that might be a different story but … the absence of both of us is sure to be sorely noticed soon.” You grin at him and he smiles back, a soft note of laughter coloring his words when he leans in to brush his lips over yours again. 

“Then it will be my pleasure to keep you entertained in the meantime.” 

Giggling with each other, you spend a long time just touching one another and slow grinding like horny teenagers who didn’t know what to do beyond that point but weren’t quite brave enough to take the plunge just yet and find out. Both of you were aware that this was primarily a warm up though. An appetizer to the main event, the preview before the feature, and neither of you were in any hurry to rush it. Just basking in the warm glow of kisses and fingertips caressing along strips of exposed skin, and the excitable nudge of his cock against your cunt through layers of clothes. That was enough for right now, and it suited each of you just fine. 

And it’s so easy to get wrapped up in him like this when every brush of his hands was so deliberate and purposeful. Controlled with fine tuned patience that keeps his fingers steady even when he slips back to reach over the swell of your ass so he can tease your slit from behind. His ministrations neither turn jittery or impatient even when you feel his rigid length pulse against your front, clearly getting off on touching you like this but disciplined enough not to give in to the baser urge to tear at your clothes. To spread you out underneath him so he can sink into your body. Kazuha’s temperament is as mild as ever even now, sequestered away together like this, and you groan when he carefully tugs you half on top of him in a sprawl. 

Stretched across his chest now, you lean up to capture his mouth once again while one of your own hands slips into the folded layers of his top. His breath hitches slightly when you find his dainty nipple, and flick and tweak it in time with the still steady pass of his fingers rubbing over your cunt. It was an almost perfect synergy thrumming between you and him, but there was still one final piece of the puzzle missing … 

Your ears perk when you eventually catch the sound of approaching footsteps out in the hall. Kazuha tenses underneath you, his cock jumping at the implication, and you kiss him harder. More fervently. Give his stiff nipple a twist to make him whine into your mouth. His fingers finally stutter against your pussy, stilling altogether for a split second before grabbing a clutching handful of your inner thigh. You can feel the fleshy swell under his grip, how it pudges up between his digits, and you issue a faltering moan of your own. As if your need had been mutually stoked to the point of desperation, you start to grind against one another with a renewed sense of urgency. 

The door swings open behind you with a creak but you’re a little too caught up in the way Kazuha softly pants into your mouth to bring your head up. You already knew who it was anyway. A silent pause filters into the cabin and then the door swings shut again. The resounding click of the lock turning in place makes both of you whimper. 

“So this is where the two of you ran off to. Should have known.” Laughing briefly, Beidou steps closer to the bed, and the solid thunk of her boots on the wood flooring makes the cock under you twitch in excitement. 

Finally finding the strength to pull back, you look down at Kazuha as if in a daze. His cheeks were flushed a charming shade of pink, his gaze distant and dreamy. He already looked wrecked and you hadn’t even truly gotten started yet. But before you can tease him for that Beidou’s hand smooths over your upturned ass to make you whine low in your throat and you instinctively jut your hips up a little higher in humble supplication. Her battle hardened fingers trail a path over the curve and dip into the space between your thighs, brushing Kazuha’s knuckles in the process. Lightly, she touches along your slit and then flattens her hand against it, cupping you possessively in her palm with a knowing press, and you can’t quite stop yourself from yelping in delight. 

“You’ve been having fun without me, I see. You're so wet I can feel it right through your clothes, sweetness … hasn't Kazuha been taking care of you?” 

The man under your noises a plaintive little sound and shudders, jostling you slightly when he needily rolls his hips upward. Seeking out the same attention, begging for it. Offering himself up for her inspection just as willingly as you had. 

Turning your head to glance back over your shoulder, you find Beidou smirking to herself as she bends to drag her hand down lower. You know the exact moment she cups him the same way she’d done to you because he jolts and issues a flustered little groan that seems to bounce and echo off the walls. A small pang of jealousy creeps into your chest but he’d patiently awaited his turn while she greeted you first so you decide you can do the same as well. 

Even though you wanted all of the captain’s attention on you … 

Beidou soon straightens up again when Kazuha trembles underneath you, prompting him to keen very softly at the loss of her touch, but she doesn’t seem to pay it any mind. Coming close to bring one knee up and brace against the mattress, she leans over you. Her hand finds the root of your hair, much like you’d done to Kazuha earlier, and she tugs your head back at an angle that leaves you gasping. Gorgeous long brown tresses slip forward when she bends to claim your mouth in a casually possessive kiss. Kazuha wheezes quietly and his fingers dig deep into your hip and thigh, but he remains obediently pliant while she leaves her mark on you. 

Groaning dazedly when she finally pulls away, you let her tip your head down and watch as she then does the same to Kazuha, kissing him deeply until he eventually mewls into her mouth. Straightening up again, Beidou takes a moment to just look at the both of you, taking in the sight before her. You can’t help but whine when she eventually pulls back completely and her fingers slip away from your hair, leaving your neck feeling heavy and sluggish without her there to direct it. 

“Alright. We can play.” She murmurs, reaching up to shrug out of her short, fur embellished cape. Carefully sitting upright to straddle Kazuha while he pushes to his elbows, you attentively watch together as she tosses it aside to hit the floor with a near silent whisper of fabric before leaning forward to brace on her hands. The spill of her full, shapely breasts very nearly overtakes the halter like this, the cock under your straining up in response when she sends each of you a slow, knowing look. “How do you two troublemakers want it? Should I get out your favorite toy or will my fingers suffice for my favorite sluts?” 

“The toy, please.” You and Kazuha slur out in almost perfect unison, the thought alone making your pussy eagerly clench. 

Bawdily laughing again, Beidou shifts back to sit on the bed. “Both of you are insatiable. Come here then. If I’m going to be taking care of you guys all night I think I deserve to get mine first.” 

Neither of you needs to be told twice. 

Quickly untangling your limbs, you scoot across the bed to join her and Kazuha soon follows on his hands and knees. She reaches for him at his approach, cupping the nape of his neck with a clear sense of ownership. It makes him warble out a tremulous moan when she pulls him into another heated exchange that she leads the pace of and he eagerly submits to. You try not to pout about it as you lean into her side and reach up to paw at one breast. Beidou’s opposite arm comes around your shoulders, pulling you flush even as Kazuha heatedly groans into her mouth. She wasn’t wrong to call you both insatiable, but she handles it masterfully. Almost without even needing to try, or so it seems. 

Finally pulling away to leave Kazuha softly panting, she offers one more lingering peck to his kiss-swollen lips before tipping her attention down at you. Eagerly, you lean up to meet her when she bends her head close, letting her lay claim to your mouth yet again. You’re distantly aware of Kazuha shifting around on the other side and she soon issues a soft, pleasant sigh at what he’s doing. Cracking an eye open, you peer over to find his face buried in the crook of her neck, licking and nipping at the thin strip of skin between her collar and jaw. You promptly decide you aren’t going to be outdone, and lean back with a stuttering inhale so you can undo the single tiny button holding the neckline in place. His hands soon join yours in their task and together the two of you work to disrobe her. 

And Beidou is a sight to behold throughout all of it. Her hair shines lusciously in the lamplight when she flicks it back over her shoulder to make it easier for you to peel back the thin red qipao, eventually discarding it altogether to leave her in just the band around her chest, spank shorts and thigh high boots. She looks like a queen, regal and proud, even in this state of undress, and she smiles knowingly at the way both of you run your hands over her firm, powerful sides. Her strong arms, the swell of her hips, across the powerful muscles along her back. You would have worshiped her for hours on end if she would allow it, and you suspected Kazuha felt the same way. 

“Now you.” She purrs, and your heartbeat further quickens when you share a quick look with the man to your right. This was something else that didn’t need repeating though, and you shuffle a little closer to him when he reaches out a hand to take your upper arm in a loose hold so he can pull you in. “Kiss while you do it.” Beidou adds, a sly edge in her voice. “I hope you brats put on a good show for me.” 

A brief, shuddering exhale slips out of him, brows drawing inward as if stricken by overwhelm and carnal bliss. But he obediently leans close, heavy lashes drooping low when he opens his mouth and slips a pink tongue out. Quickly following his lead, your lips part and close over his, gladly accepting the hot, wet warmth that slips past your teeth to flick over the inside of your mouth in a taunting, enticing dance. Your hands work together to get each other's clothes slipped off, quickly joining the growing heap on the floor until both of you are at last down to your underwear. 

Gently, Kazuha takes hold of your silk chemise and inches it up over your head when you lift your arms for him. His palms — one bare and one layered in wrapped bandage — descend upon your breasts to knead and pinch, making your back bow in pleasure. You catch the soft sigh Beidou breathes out, your own fingers eagerly skittering down his sides to dip into the thin fundoshi tied around his hips and give the swell of his ass an appreciative squeeze. Figuring out the seemingly complicated garment had been a real challenge at first but you were familiar enough with it now to easily locate the knot, tugging at it to make the fabric loosen. He sedately reaches down to help you unravel the long strip, still kissing you, and Beidou chuckles very softly when his cock finally springs up into the space between you. 

“You’re just as bad as she is, Kazuha. You sure you don’t want to give your ass a break tonight?” 

He moans into your lips, higher in pitch and keening, before pulling back enough to quietly whine out, “I want both.” 

It was such a typical Kazuha answer that you can’t help but giggle. His favor for indulging in life’s simplest pleasures extended even to this, the most base form of gratification that existed in the natural world, and that was the crux of it, wasn’t it? How the three of you ended up sharing each other's time and pleasure between yourselves on long nights out at sea like this. 

But something in him seems to stir awake at the sound of your laughter, his eyes clearing from some of the fog that had fallen over him. You don’t get a chance to react when he reaches out to grab hold of your hips and half lifts, half yanks you closer to slot you between his knees. Tipping over at the sudden movement, you bounce back onto the mattress with a burst of giggles as he tugs at your bloomers to get them inched up your legs and finally discarded a moment later. 

“Man, you two always look so good together …” Beidou remarks almost wistfully. 

Kazuha sends you a slow look from under the messy fringe of his hair, one hand curling around your foot to pull it close for a brief kiss against the arch. You draw a slow, stilted breath while he does it, knowing too well how committed to putting on a good show for her he could really be. “Not half as good as you look with her, Captain Beidou, I’m sure.” 

“I think we all look good together,” You whisper into the statically charged air. “That’s why this works out so well.”

“Agreed.” Pressing another quick kiss to your foot, Kazuha lowers your leg and turns his head to look at the other woman. “Shall I proceed, captain?” 

Beidou pretends to think about that for a moment, humming as if in thought. “No need. I’ll deal with both of you soon enough.” 

Your heart gives a little thump at that, and you move to untangle yourself from Kazuha again. He helps you up and together you return to Beidou who leans back to brace on her hands. The shift in position leaves her chest presented in invitation, and you lean close to press your mouth to the swell of one breast. Kazuha’s hand crowds close, stiltedly pawing at the other, and she breathes out a quiet groan as you attack her in near perfect tandem. Slipping a finger into the band, you slowly inch it down until the meaty swell of her tit slips free, inspiring a shudder that makes her arch her back. You capture the stiff nipple in your mouth, sucking and flicking at it with your tongue, while Kazuha brushes his bandaged thumb over the other. 

Her breathing gradually deepens, becoming heavy and thick, and she groans a low sound when he eventually pulls his side of the band down as well so he can latch his lips around the opposite nipple. Another tremor works through her muscular frame to accompany the slow grind of her hips against the mattress. Both of you take your time with it, occasionally pulling up to pinch or roll the spit lathered buds between your fingers, the buzz of excited arousal so palpable in the room it almost feels smothering. 

Tipping her head back to shudderingly groan up at the ceiling when Kazuha reaches down to rub her cunt, Beidou gives her head a dull shake that makes her long hair dance against her back. “You’re going to be the death of me at this rate …” 

“But you like it, captain.” He murmurs, playful amusement lacing his tone as you release her nipple with a muted pop. 

Kissing your way down her stomach, making sure to give each defined abdominal muscle their own individual peck, you steadily work your way down to her spanks where you slip your fingers into the waistband. Kazuha’s quickly join you and together the two of you peel the fabric away from her and down her legs, tossing them aside without a second thought to where they might land. Finally left in nothing but her tall boots and the black halter bunched under her tits, Beidou reclines further back to brace on her elbows now. The spread of her tight body and the expectant glimmer in her visible eye makes your own arousal double and then triple. Archons, you’d never seen anyone more beautiful … 

“I expect you two to share. No fighting over who gets to eat me out like last time.”

“Yes, captain.” You once again answer in unison. 

Shuffling closer, you lay down between her spread thighs and lean in to kiss at the firm, meaty lips of her cunt while Kazuha nudges himself in from above, leaning over her pelvis at an angle. You roll your eyes up to share a brief, heated look with him as you spread her open with your fingers. Keeping his gaze locked on yours, he bends close to flick his tongue out and nudge at pink creases and folds, and you follow suit. It’s a bit cramped like this but, somehow the two of you manage to make it work. Keeping your head tilted, you lap at Beidou with playful little kitten licks, your tongue brushing against and entwining with his from time to time, and she groans in deep satisfaction as the two of you attack her clit from both sides. Shuddering, her hips slowly find a stilted thrusting motion that lets her fuck her pussy between one mouth and the next. 

“Gods, that feels good … keep that up and I’ll have to make sure to spoil you guys later. Would you like that?”  

You and Kazuha noise two flustered sounds of agreement, and your eyes slip closed in ecstasy at the mental image that comes to mind. Just thinking about Beidou taking her time with you, rewarding you for being so good for her has your own cunt fluttering around nothing. You couldn’t wait to feel her inside you … 

“Mm, that’s what I like to hear.” Breathing out a sigh of pleasure, she shifts underneath you and Kazuha to fully lay out on the bed. One of her legs curls out and up over your shoulder to loosely wrap around your head, giving you a bit more room to work with between her thighs. You tremble and moan at the dull press of her boot heel against your back at almost the same time Kazuha groans a tremulous sound as well, and you quickly realize she’s reached down to grip his hair in a fist. Beidou’s ability to keep both of you perfectly under control and equally engaged without getting overwhelmed herself was something truly impressive in your eyes and you can’t help but be star struck by it even now. 

It spoke to her talents, her strengths both physical and mental, and the inherent respect she commanded from those around her. If it had only been you and Kazuha rolling around in the sheets you likely would have traded roles between yourselves, switching seamlessly to suit your mood and needs. But with Beidou both of you were free to submit, to enjoy your domination in the most deliciously satisfying way possible. 

Even when her hips judder and tremble, Beidou still has the presence of mind to grind Kazuha’s face down into her cunt so she can fuck herself on his tongue. Even when her breathing becomes thin and shallow with the building tension in her body, she still has the wherewithal to squeeze her leg around your head to damn near smother you in her cunt. Panting heavily against slick, satin soft folds, you blindly reach under her thigh until you find Kazuha’s hand braced on the bed. He gives a little jolt at the contact but quickly turns his hand so he can grasp yours, fingers interlacing while Beidou rides both of your mouths with stunningly expert precision. 

“M’gonna’ cum … you guys ready?” 

Whining low in his throat, Kazuha leans down a little further to truly crowd his face in next to yours. Your cheeks squish together, breath mingling in the tight space between Beidou’s legs as your tongue tangles with his over her clit. A powerful tremor tears through her, muscles stiffly tensing up to accompany the way she hisses through her teeth. You’re vaguely aware of her pussy squeezing tight under your mouth and then a sudden deluge of slick floods your tastebuds to make your eyes roll back. You can distantly hear Kazuha moaning at the taste as well but you’re far more focused on the way Beidou twitches and heaves through her orgasm, positively soaking your face in sticky arousal. 

She basks in the waves of intense pleasure for a long moment, still softly rolling her hips until she eventually starts to come down from it one piece at a time. Slowly, her leg loosens around your neck and then falls away completely to splay out on the bed. With a final, lingering lap of his tongue, Kazuha slowly pushes up and you do the same. A brief, molten look between the two of you is all it takes and your mouths crash together, hungrily kissing and passing the taste of her back and forth between each other. Beidou chuckles softly, just watching the show for an extended beat while she recovers from her shuddering climax.

“What good brats I have … you both did well, but if you want your reward you’ll have to let me up first.” 

Flushed and groaning, you and Kazuha reluctantly break apart to look at one another. He was even more of a wreck than he’d been before, his hair askew and sticking to his sweat-dampened cheeks and forehead, but you probably didn’t look much better in that moment. Slowly, the two of you start to untangle yourself from Beidou, sluggish with arousal, and she reaches out to palm both of your necks in a possessive hold when she sits up. 

“I want you to lay at the edge of the bed while I’m getting ready, is that understood?” 

“Yes, Captain Beidou.” 

Giving each of you a squeeze, she moves to stand so she can go over to the chest pushed up against the far wall. While she’s rummaging around and fiddling with various straps, preparing for the main event, Kazuha takes your hand again so he can pull you to the side of the mattress. Together, you get situated on your backs, side by side, shoulder to shoulder, and you offer him a cheeky little smile full of anticipation and eager excitement as you get settled in. 

“Who do you think will cum first this time?” 

He cocks a playful brow at that, his thumb tracing idle circles over your knuckle. “Shall we make a wager?” 

“Okay … first one to cum ends up on the bottom.” 

“I can hear you, y’know.” Beidou calls over, making you laugh and giggle with Kazuha. 

“Deal.” He whispers and, still holding your hand against the bed, he leans over to close the scant distance so he can kiss you again, humming quietly at the lingering taste of Beidou’s cunt on your lips. 

The thump of her boots soon approaches again, and you give your hips a supplicating shake as you spread your legs in invitation. Kazuha does the same, his bare thigh brushing against yours when he curls his leg up to open himself for her. Beidou’s hand caresses over your knee, prompting you to disengage from Kazuha’s mouth, and you glance up to find her leaning over the two of you. Your eyes immediately land on the thick length now dangling between her legs from the complicated rig of straps and buckles fastened around her waist, and your pussy clenches tightly in response. 

“Making bets like that behind my back … I wonder who’s going to win.” Gently humming, she dips her hand further in to tease along your slit and smear the copious arousal she finds there before zeroing in on your entrance. A quick glance to your side reveals her doing the same to Kazuha, his chin tipped forward against his chest and his lips parted in a silent moan while she prods at his vulnerable hole. You tighten your hold on his hand and both of you gasp when she starts to push into your bodies. The sly gleam in her eye makes you feel ten times hotter when she looks up, glancing between you and him with a knowing smile. “I have half a mind to make you both cum at the same time just to teach you a lesson. What would you do then, hm?” 

Panting, you slip your eyes shut to fully appreciate the way her calloused fingers penetrate your cunt and spread it open for her. The sensation makes every nerve ending in your pelvis light up like a goddamn firework, toes curling in the air. You wonder, idly, if she’s also using two on Kazuha, and the way he seethes and twitches at having his ass stuffed makes you suspect that she was. Beidou’s favorite lubricant from Liyue was a potent and extremely effective concoction though so you didn’t doubt that she would easily be able to make him take that many right off the bat … 

Beidou’s fingers curling inside you to attack the tight nerve cluster behind your upper wall quickly distracts you from thinking about what Kazuha is experiencing, and you toss your head back to groan up at the ceiling. A soft click soon rises in the cabin, highlighted by the quiet sound of his ass sucking in her fingers, and together you writhe with him on the bed. You were already so wet she could have easily taken you by now but Beidou always liked to show you both equal amounts of attention. Whatever prep Kazuha needed you would receive also, but you couldn’t quite find it in yourself to be upset about that when it felt so damn good.  

“Captain!” 

“Ooh? You’re sounding mighty needy there, sweetness. Don’t tell me you’re the one who’s going to lose.” 

“I … I’m not.” 

Laughing, Beidou withdraws her fingers and shifts to line herself up between your thighs. Grasping the fake, hefty cock in one hand while the other stays busy in Kazuha’s ass, she starts to lean her weight into you and you freeze with your mouth wide open at the stilted pressure it exerts. “We’ll see about that, won’t we?” 

Inch by excruciating inch, her cock slides into the hot squeeze of your pussy and you lurch with a high pitched, faltering groan at the intense stretch. It brings sensitive, deeply satisfied tears to your eyes as you lift your head to peer down at yourself. Beidou looks amazing crouching over you like this, your cunt lips spreading around the intrusion and clinging to it in a meaty grip, and you outright wheeze as more and more of her disappears into your body. You’re so caught up in watching her claim you that you almost miss the way Kazuha shifts next to you, but then his unoccupied hand slides over to tweak your stiff nipple. The sharp friction makes you clamp down on her with an almost violent shudder, whining in the back of your throat.

“N - no fair!” 

“I didn’t hear nothing about any rules that said you couldn’t sabotage each other.” Beidou chuckles, amusement thick in her voice. 

She slides home a moment later and she takes the time to grind her pelvis against yours, both to tease your throbbing clit and also apply a blinding amount of pressure to your guts. The sound that bursts out of you seems to border on frantic and you jerkily turn your head to pin Kazuha with an imploring look. You weren’t sure if you were begging for him to stop ratcheting up your arousal even further or to keep going, but he only smiles though. That small, vaguely mischievous smile that belied his usually placid demeanor for the rarely seen sadistic streak hiding underneath. Leaning across to kiss you again while Beidou slowly eases back, dragging at your inner sleeve, he continues to tug at your aching nipple to make you whimper and mewl into his mouth. 

Desperately, you try to bring your hand up to stave him off as Beidou falls into a steady rhythm and the soft, wet clicks of your cunt sucking her in deep quickly grows louder, but he fiercely holds on. You arch against the pleasure making you tingle from head to toe, and instead lift your unoccupied hand from where it had been clutching at the sheets. But Kazuha doesn’t even react when you latch onto his wrist and weakly try to pull him off, relentlessly pinching and rolling your teat between his fingers until you have no choice but to tear your mouth from his with a haggard sound. Bleating into the static stillness, you glance down again to watch Beidou thrust that stiff, merciless length deep into your body, the force making your tits bounce and jiggle, and you cry out in fast mounting distress. Being the first to cum did not seem like such a far off possibility … 

“Captain — aahhn, please!”

“What’s wrong, sweetness? Ready to tap out already?” 

You jerk your head in a quick nod and she laughs, giving the meat of your inner thigh a tight squeeze and a taunting jostle before abruptly easing out of you. Brows drawing together in stricken bliss, you loose a faltering groan at the resulting little slurp when she slips free but she’s quick to stuff you with her fingers again. Seething at the sensation, you numbly watch her shift to the opposite side and position herself between Kazuha’s legs. His hold on your hand tightens with the faintest tremor that runs through him, and then he’s going stock still when Beidou starts to lean into him next. Glancing down, you take in the sight of his stiff cock resting across his lower belly and, beyond the fleshy mound of his ballsack, that thick toy slowly disappearing into him, much the same as it had done with you a moment ago, and you can’t help but issue a sympathetic moan that makes your head vibrate. 

“Look at you taking me so well, Kazuha … your pussy is just as greedy as hers, isn’t it? Both of you are always so damn hungry for my cock and it shows.” 

Whimpering softly, the man beside you twitches and arches his back, wheezing quietly under his breath as she gradually slides inside of him. The knowledge that she was using your slick to penetrate him, lubricating his ass with your arousal, just leaves you feeling so hot it almost makes the room spin. Subconsciously squeezing down on Beidou’s fingers at the sight of him so stricken by pleasure as much as the words she speaks, you let go of his arm in favor of reaching over to tweak his nipple in retaliation. It seems to punch a low moan out of him and, turning his head to look at you again, he gives your teat a reciprocating tug. 

“Is this how we’re going to play this game?” He whispers, distant and dreamy. Clearly distracted. 

“You started it.” You remind him, making Beidou chuckle as she quickly falls into that same steady rhythm she’d fucked you with. 

The fleshy plap, plap, plap of his firm ass hitting her soft thighs sounds loud in the otherwise quiet room, and his heated gasps and groans quickly rise up to join it. He really does take her cock so well, keeping his legs spread like an absolute slut even when each thrust jostles him against the mattress. Beidou wasn’t exactly sweet or gentle in the way she took her lovers, more often than not maintaining a demanding pace that begets submission on both the physical and mental level. It wasn’t really a matter of if you would cum but, rather, when she would pull a shuddering climax out of you. 

And it’s so easy to envision yourself in Kazuha’s place, to feel the spectral stretch and slide of her cock deep inside your cunt, that your guts instinctively milk at Beidou’s digits in a tight, palpitating squeeze. You moan at almost the exact same time he does, and he mirrors your shuddering tremors in near perfect unison. The two of you were feeding off each other, taking from the others pleasure and giving it back double, and Beidou was the expert conductor leading it all. 

“What do you brats think now, huh? Who’s gonna’ win?” 

“M - me,” You warble out, and Kazuha gives your throbbing nipple a sharp tug in response to make you gasp. 

“I don’t think so.” 

“You’ll see …” 

“Hmm, I don’t know,” Beidou drawls, her tone light and lilting, eventually slowing her thrusts to a drawn out, slow motion glide before pulling out altogether. The resulting wet pop has Kazuha whining, but just as quickly as she’d done to you, Beidou stuffs her fingers into his ass again and then moves back over to stand between your legs. “Something tells me sweetness here isn’t going to last much longer …” 

The blunt head of the toy presses into your sticky, swollen cunt lips and you go stiff as a board, mouth dropping open as if to scream, but nothing comes out while she gradually sinks back into you again. Kazuha issues a dazed little sound of fluster, squirming on her fingers beside you. Her pelvis meets yours a heartbeat later and you toss your head back, groaning so hard it makes your throat feel raw and abused, but she barely even pauses. Immediately finding that quick, snappy pace, Beidou reaches up with her free hand to grab the breast Kazuha wasn’t currently latched onto. 

“Come on, baby girl. I can feel how hard you’re squeezing me … you want to cum, don’t you? It’ll feel so good once you finally just let it go, so come on. Show me and Kazuha how hard you can cum for us.” 

“N - noooo! Not yet, not yet!” Deliriously, you toss your head against the sheets but it was too much. Between the two sets of hands fondling your breasts and the unrelentingly hard, stiff toy pounding in and out of you, you could feel yourself tipping dangerously close to the edge. “Please, captain, please, fuck Kazuha again just — ahhn! Aagghhn! Just for a moment, please!” 

“Nuh-uh, sweetness. You’re not getting off that easy.”

You suck in a sharp, gasping breath with every intention of begging some more but it gets caught somewhere in your windpipe. Practically choking on it, you desperately thrash and try to twist away from the intense pressure bearing down on you but it’s useless. There is no escaping it when you were effectively trapped between them, Beidou’s cock spearing you straight down the middle, and your frantic moans quickly start to take on a dire, urgent tinge. 

Kazuha giving your captured nipple a slow, taunting tug is what eventually makes the coil snap, and you cum with a jerk and a high pitched shriek. Your pussy spasms around the thick intrusion as you shake and writhe through your release, oversensitized tears clouding your eyes when Beidou fucks you right through and damn near into another. It feels like you’re falling apart on her cock, uncontrollably quaking between the two of them until you slowly start to come down from it what feels like an eternity later. 

Panting and wheezing in the aftermath, you let out a soft whimper when Beidou finally slows and then pulls out completely to leave your pussy weakly contracting in the aftermath. She takes a step back, untangling herself from both you and Kazuha, and he quickly takes advantage of that to roll over on top of you. Ignoring your mouse squeak protests, he slides his knees under your thighs and nudges them up to leave you spread out underneath him as he brings his face close to yours, that content and undeniably victorious little smile curling at his mouth. 

“I win.” He murmurs, nuzzling his nose against yours softly. Huffing and pouting, you try to turn your head away but he just follows you, pressing his forehead against yours so that you have nowhere to run to avoid his gaze. “Don’t be a sore loser, pretty girl.” 

“M’not …” You were and you knew that, and that’s why you tip your face up to accept his apologetic kiss when he tips his head down. It wouldn’t do any good to be petty about it but you would certainly get your payback later when he least expected it. 

“Aww, aren’t you guys cute.” Beidou purrs behind the two of you. She shuffles close again, the thunk of her boots warning you of her approach, but you still jolt when she swipes her hand over your defenseless cunt. Moaning into Kazuha’s mouth when you realize what she’s doing, you subtly tip your pelvis up for her and when she pulls back to grab hold of his cock, no doubt smearing pussy slick along his length, he promptly groans as well. 

Stiltedly, Kazuha pulls up in favor of wheezing into the scant space separating you from him. You can’t see it but you know she must be tugging at his length by the way he dully twitches, trembling at the sensation. 

Even knowing it’s coming isn’t quite enough to prepare you, and you give a quiet little squeak when she directs his cock head to your spread cunt. Obedient and pliant in her hands, Kazuha allows Beidou to direct him where she wants, at the speed she wants, and he slowly starts to sink into your waiting body. The two of you gasp and then groan in tandem, shaking against and with one another. He was less stiff and rigid than the toy, but so incredibly warm inside your guts that it makes you go cross eyed when his pelvis finally meets yours. His flesh and blood felt good — not necessarily better or worse, but a different kind of appeal — and you carefully bring your arms up to twine them around his neck. 

“How’s she feel, Kazuha?” 

“Amazing …” 

Quietly laughing, Beidou shifts around behind you and just the thought of her lining up to slide into his ass again has you shuddering on his cock, and both of you impotently rock against one another in anticipation. 

“Ready for my cock, baby? Your cute little hole looks so hungry and needy right now.” 

He hiccups at something she does, breath hitching in his chest with a barely there gasp. “Yes, captain. Please fill me up …” 

Beidou sighs in pleasure, followed by another brief shift, and then Kazuha goes so completely still over top of you that you know she’s breaching his body again. His eyes slip shut, thick lashes fluttering against the apples of his cheeks while he takes her straight down to the hilt. The cock inside you jumps and flexes, straining almost desperately against your guts when she hits his prostate, and the two of you once again shudder together in mutually felt ecstasy. 

Lifting your head to tuck your mouth against his sweat-dampened shoulder, you look past Kazuha to find Beidou squeezing around his waist, her attention focused on his upturned ass, and you outright moan when her pelvis presses flush against him. You watch for as long as you can when she starts to fuck him in earnest, her full tits jiggling with each thrust and her long hair swaying with the motion. It mercilessly rocks you and him against the bed to make the pressure on your guts double, and then triple. Finally, unable to hold out any longer when it felt like you were having the air punched right out of your lungs, you fall back to lay out on the sheets. 

Kazuha turns his head with a dopamine induced sluggishness, looking at you through the fall of heavy lidded eyes for a long beat before leaning in to kiss your mouth again. He whines and whimpers against your lips, his hips weakly flexing to fuck himself between you and Beidou, and you’re keenly aware of your toes flexing in the air with each stilted thrust. He was so sensitive for her, so stiff and hard for you, and your head starts to spin from the intoxicating rush of it all. 

You may have lost this round, but perhaps you could win the next one …

⭐

Crossposted: here