#till i feel his very name being etched into my skin

[reds-skull]

Not Alive, Nor Dead

[PREV PART] [AO3]

I'll make a separate post for all of my thoughts (because I have a lot), but I'd like to thank all of you. This has been such an amazing experience, being able to tell a story from start to end. This has been a lot of firsts for me, first fic, first serious writing, first time I reach the end of any long form story I made.

Each and every one of you reading, liking, reblogging and commenting made this ride that more enjoyable.

Now, it's time we finish it, with the longest chapter yet.

Its name on AO3 will be "Together."

All that could be heard in the small room were crackling flames. For a while, they just stared at each other.

“Revenants of light, huh…” Johnny whispers, fingers gently caressing Simon’s hand. He scoffs in disbelief, “I can’t believe we actually did it…”

Simon sinks into the flames hugging his skin, “did what?”

“Broke that prophecy. Lived. Fuckin’ created a new Reaper.” Johnny’s eyes shine, his voice full of reverence, “you think this was… a new deal?”

Heat strikes down, deep in his chest. “It would make sense… new Reaper, new powers…” Simon trails off.

“New death.” Johnny grins lopsidedly, “looks like yer stuck with me ‘till the end, LT.”

“Till death do us apart, Johnny?”

His Sergeant laughs brightly, Simon grinning like an idiot under the mask. Johnny takes his other hand in his, donning a more serious expression.

“Ye are Blood of my Blood, and Bone of my Bone.” he recites slowly, eyes not moving from his. Simon inhales sharply.

“I give ye my Body, that we Two might be One.” his heart beats like a war drum, strong and heavy. 

“Johnny…” he doesn’t recognize the lines, but the meaning expands beyond cultures.

“I give ye my Spirit,” he lifts a hand to cup Simon’s cheek, “’til our Life shall be Done.”

Simon leans in, resting his forehead on Johnny’s, chuckling in incredulity, “you’re fuckin’ mental, Sergeant.”

The Scot hums, nudging his head, “thought ye knew that already, mo chridhe.”

Fuckin’ hell, his heart won’t stop beating so loudly. Simon knows Johnny was half joking but…

But still his heart strives to etch the words into his rib cage. A vow seared into their very flesh, marked by forces beyond their comprehension.

An oath, so powerful it joins not only their lives, but the lives of otherworldly horrors, being who do not care for such things as human connection.

And yet, it is that very thing that changed the course of destiny, in a way not even Reapers could predict.

Simon leans close, to the man he calls home, a hearth to never be extinguished.

And he feels safe. He feels… complete.

When they finally leave the room, the air outside is considerably colder. The safe house is quiet, in a way it can’t be, for the amount of soldiers it contained before Johnny dragged Ghost away.

He catches the attention of a passing Vaquero, and the man tells him most have left for the base, as it was liberated once Graves died. He also informs them their teammates are waiting outside by the vehicles.

Price and Garrick smile at them knowingly when they reach the armored truck.

“Bloody hell, finally! What took you two so long??” Gaz kicks off the side of the truck to scowl at them.

Ghost squints, face heating up, “none of yours, Sergeant.”

Gaz opens his mouth, but Price pats his back, “we can argue in the damn car. I need a fuckin’ shower.”

The Sergeant instantly forgets his previous grievances, and floats away to the passenger sit, “oh fuck yeah! I’m drooling just thinking about the bunks. You think Rudy would make us tea again if we ask really nicely?”

Soap swings the door open while shaking his head, muttering, “feckin’ Brits and their shite tea…”

Ghost slides besides him and cuffs him over the warhawk, “you better respect Parra’s tea in this car, Sergeant.”

Johnny rolls his eyes, unable to stop the smirk spreading on his lips, “what are ye gonna do? Report me to the king?”

“You little…” Ghost starts wrestling his Sergeant in the back sits, Price sighing deeply and turning the ignition.

When Soap somehow manages to kick the Captain’s headrest, jostling his hat dangerously, Price turns to glare at the two of them.

“You stop that, or I’m leaving you on the side of the road.”

They both immediately freeze, “sorry Captain.” Soap mumbles.

The truck is left parked between the others already on base, and the taskforce makes its way to the barracks.

Rudy finds them after a shower, smiling, “hermanos. Feeling better?”

Garrick is still drying his hair with a towel, “feel fuckin’ human, brother.”

Alejandro rounds the corner, laughing, “Rudy got something even better than a shower.”

“What’s that?” Soap asks. Price’s eyes fill with wonder, and Ghost already knows the answer.

Alejandro swings an arm around the Sergeant Major, “how does ‘Parra’s infamous tea’ sound like?”

Gaz cheers, floating up a few inches, while Soap grumbles disappointingly, “sounds like bloody heaven, Rodolfo!” Garrick reaches to pull the Vaquero into a hug, “thank you!!!”

Rudy pats the Sergeant, laughing, “it’s nothing, hermano. A little thanks for all of you, for helping us with Graves.” he looks over at Ghost, the two sharing a nod of mutual understanding.

Soap pouts, “feckin’ tea though…?”

Alejandro smirks confidently, “we also got some… shortbread, you call it?”

Now that puts a spark in Johnny’s eyes, “ye all are saints, Alejandro.”

The Colonel laughs loudly. 

They meet Commander Karim and Keller on their way out, duffle bags slung over their shoulders.

Farah smiles warmly at the Captain, “ah, Price. Glad I could find you before we leave.”

“You’re already going back to Urzikstan?”

The American sighs, “yep. The Vaqueros volunteered to search for any of our people, but currently we need to go back to protecting whoever we still have.”

“Graves may be dead, but this is far from over.” Farah looks over the serene hills surrounding the base, “as much as I want to get Shepherd, I cannot let myself be blinded by revenge.”

Ghost understands the sentiment. Revenge is a fuel, what you put it into could make or break your reality. “When we find him, we’ll make sure you’re there to take it.”

Farah nods, perceptive eyes landing on his, “I appreciate it, Lieutenant.” she turns to the rest, “thank you for everything. God willing, we will meet on better times.”

Price wraps a hand around her shoulder, making Ghost realize just how small the Commander is compared to him, “stay safe, Farah.” he winks at Alex, “make sure she takes breaks from time to time, will you?”

Keller laughs, “you know not even I can do that. Cya around, Cap.”

As the two walk away, Garrick mumbles, “think they’ll be alright without Graves supporting them?”

Price sighs wearily, eyes somber as they track Farah and Alex’s form, “they’ll have to be.”

They say their goodbyes to the Vaqueros, with a hopeful note to work together in the future, and get ready to board a plane to England. After a few hours, where the team took time to fix their undoubtably horrid stench and growling stomachs, and got to sleep (Soap dragged him to a sofa to nap, and Ghost will forever deny it was the best sleep of his life), Laswell called.

Ghost initially prayed they’re not being sent to another mission, in a way he never did. To his credit, the last few months were absurd.

She didn’t contact them for work, instead inviting them to stop by for a drink before they all leave for the UK. The promise of a good drink had them instantly agree.

The flight is spent mostly sleeping, again, as they were all incredibly tired, bone deep fatigue, emotionally and physically.

Garrick made sure to make his annoyingly aching shoulder everyone’s problem, complaining he couldn’t find a good position to rest in, until the Captain showed mercy and let him float around the cabin, leg held fast by Price.

Kate greets them warmly in a little bar hidden within Chicago’s winding alleys. Their drinks have been ordered beforehand, and everyone makes their gratitude known by taking a sip and melting into the bar sits.

Laswell smiles knowingly, letting them relax before starting, “this has been quite a ride for you boys, huh?”

Price sighs, “you can say it again.”

The CIA agent shakes her head morosely, “they got past us.”

“Well, they had a head start.” the Captain lifts his drink, “to cutting heads off snakes.”

Laswell clinks her cup with his. Ghost joins their conversation while they take the toast, “any sign of Shepherd?”

The woman puts the drink back on the counter, “totally off the grid.”

Gaz looks down at his whisky, frowning in conviction, “we’ll find him.”

“No,” Laswell answers, Garrick locking eyes with her, “we’ve got bigger fish.” she glances at Soap, “I did some digging on the Russian experiments.”

“That’s a dirty job if I’ve heard one”, Price mutters under his breath.

“Ultra-nationalists are after the fabled ‘revenant-killer’, John.” Price shakes his head minutely at the words.

“Kate,” he says lowly, “this is over.” almost begging her to let his boys rest.

“No. It’s not.” she ignores his pleas, as do all Reapers above and below. “They’re working with someone new.”

She pulls out a picture and shows it to Price, his expression instantly morphing into shock, and then cold rage.

Ghost tries to ask the Captain what he’s seeing, but he doesn’t need to.

Price points at the photo, “...he’s not new.” and passes it to Gaz.

Garrick’s brows furrow at it, glancing at the Captain questioningly before passing it over to Johnny.

Soap takes one look at the image, his smile lines deepening as his fingers singe the edges of the photo.

He slides it to Ghost, hand lingering, eyes full of uncertainty.

Ghost flips the picture, and his heart hardens.

“Who is he?” Laswell asks Price.

The Captain leans in to almost whisper, “Makarov.”

Laswell tilts her head, and Price continues to talk in their minds, “the Kastovian deserter, Konchar? He didn’t leave the military for no reason.”

Flames crackle threateningly under the bar, Ghost sliding a hand over white fire.

“He worked for Makarov?” Soap growls.

Price nods, “your Reaping took his work years back, but if what Laswell says is true…”

“He’s back.” Ghost finishes.

Johnny’s hand squeezes his, and they make eye contact.

It’s never really over, is it? Some say they’ll rest when they’re dead. Their harsh reality is that they’re not even granted that.

Blue eyes reflecting flames, as well as one floating man with a warm smile, and a reassuring voice in his mind, promise him that while yes, they may never rest, it does not mean they’ll fight alone.

Together, until death, as it brought them to each other, takes them away.

Soap is furious. They leave the bar not soon after, his Sergeant walking away as they say their farewells to Laswell.

On the flight back, he’s all uncontrollable energy, waiting for ignition to blow up. 

Ghost, after 20 minutes of watching Johnny bounce his leg enough to wear a hole through the damn floor, places a hand to stop his movements.

“Talk to me, Johnny.”

Soap’s eyes stay full of rage for only a moment, before softening, “I’m thinking… maybe it wasn’t coincidence that me and Konchar were in Verdansk at the same time.”

Ghost hums for him to continue, drawing nonsense patterns on his thigh.

“What if I was an experiment, Simon?” Johnny looks away, his eyes fogging with memories, “what if Makarov knew Konchar had to kill me to live, and wanted to see if I could. If I was destined to be a revenant killer?”

“It doesn’t matter.” Ghost grounds. Johnny looks unconvinced, so he continues, “whatever you were destined to be… you’re not it anymore. We’re both changed men.”

Johnny stares at him with more emotions than Simon can contain, reverence and trust and… something he can’t name.

“You�� how could I tell you how much I adore you?”

Simon’s heart, gut and head, all line in decision for once in his life. 

Actions speak louder than words, he remembers. And so, he rolls up the mask up above his brows, and leans in.

Gently taking hold of Soap’s nape, he directs his head to his face, pressing a touch of lips to his temple.

Simon whispers in his ear, “I already know. I look at you, and I can’t explain what it does to me. What you do to me, love.”

Johnny closes his eyes, inhaling deeply. He looks almost conflicted, but the creases smooth over when Simon brushes lips over them.

“You mean everything.”

Price ordered him to his office the moment Ghost stepped foot on British soil. He glanced at Johnny, who was carrying his and Gaz’s bags. His Sergeant promised with a lopsided grin he’ll find him later, a sort of scheming glint in his eyes.

Ghost reaches the Captain’s office in record time, hoping to finish whatever this is as fast as possible.

Price, however, didn’t get the damn memo, and takes his sweet time settling into his chair. “How are you doing, Simon?”

Ghost surpassed the urge to roll his eyes, “good.” he gets the mental image of begging on his knees for Price to get to the point, and the Captain laughs.

“Alright, alright. I’ll spare you the suffering, Lieutenant.” Price’s smile slowly fades, “what happened with your Reaper, son?”

Right. He and Johnny may have forgotten to mention the new developments in the ‘Eldritch horrors beyond this world’ department.

“Our Reapers merged. They called themselves ‘Reaper of Luminary’.” Ghost huffs, “they told me and Johnny… we’re linked. We’ll live and die together.”

Price nods. He doesn’t seem too surprised, and Ghost wonders how much he already knew from his passing thoughts.

“I don’t know how long we would be able to keep it quiet…” he strokes his moustache, “this gets out, you two will have a target on your backs.”

Ghost straightens, hands behind his back at rest, “we’ll handle it, if it comes to that, sir.”

The Captain sighs, “I admire your confidence, Lieutenant, but I don’t think you understand the scale of the issue. You two are the first revenants in modern history to affect the Reapers the way they affect humans. We believed our connection was a one way street - that humans are simply too weak to change Reapers.” his stare is severe, “you however? You’re powerful enough to not only go against them, but physically mold them. What Makarov is after is nothing compared to the force you hold.”

Ghost closes his eyes. Price is right, of course. But…

He has faith. Hope.

Price’s moustache twitches, “...I understand.” he raises from the chair, walking around to place a hand on Ghost’s shoulder.

“I’m happy for you, son. You and Soap make a good team.” the Captain’s eyes crease with mirth, “I heard your conversation on the plane-”

“Fuckin’ hell Price, that was bloody private!” Ghost scoffs, embarrassment coursing through him.

“I stopped listening after the first ‘love’-”

Ghost drags a hand over his eyes, “just get on with it”

“As I’ve told you, you have my blessing. If you need anything, if anyone gives you trouble, don’t hesitate to come to me, got it?”

Ghost scoffs despite the threat of tears in his eyes. He looks at Price now, and sees much more than a Captain. He sees something he has never had.

“Copy.”

It’s not Johnny that finds him first, but Garrick, floating around the hallway in front of Price’s office.

“Need the Captain, Sergeant?” Ghost inquires.

Gaz stops, “no, I got a message from Soap.”

His interest instantly piques, “go on.”

Garrick rummages through his pocket with his healthy hand and pulls out a note, “he said ‘meet me here’, and that you should ‘clean up’.” the Sergeant wiggles his eyebrows, “sounds like he has a nice surprise for ya, sir.”

Ghost takes the note, examining the location. Looks like a street in the city neighboring the base. “I’m off then. Don’t get into trouble, Garrick. Cheers.”

Gaz frowns, pointing at his injured arm, “not like I bloody can…”

Ghost smiles while walking away, “if anyone could find a way, it would be you Sergeant.”

He chuckles lowly at Gaz’s fussing as he makes his way to the base’s parking lot.

The sun has started to set by the time Ghost reaches the location Soap left for him, the sky painted reds and oranges and yellows that remind him fondly of Johnny’s radiant fire.

He changed into a more casual outfit, covering his face with only a cloth mask and a hoodie. 

Ghost’s lips stretch so much he fears they’ll get stuck like that, when he spots the place. An elegant sign hangs above a restaurant, one that looks small and cozy, with dimmed warm lighting, and plants covering the brick walls.

He parks the car nearby and walks in, a waiter catching his stare and approaching him.

“Are you uh… ‘Ghost’?” he says with hesitation.

Ghost scans the tables, trying to find one warhawk sticking out, “affirm.”

The waiter sighs in relief, “your partner is already here. Follow me.”

The man leads him to a more secluded area, a low wall separating it from the main room. Ghost feels his heart thrum a familiar beat when he finally finds Johnny, sitting alone in a table for two.

“Your orders will arrive soon, please make yourself at home.” the waiter gives him a wobbly smile, and Johnny chuckles at the man practically running away.

“You really do have quite the effect on people, don’t ye Simon?” his Sergeant smiles.

Simon huffs, sitting down in front of him, “what’s all this, then?” he nods to the restaurant.

Johnny leans in, taking his hand, “I promised I’ll treat ye nicely, to a good restaurant, didn’t I?”

“You remembered?” Simon blinks in surprise.

“Of course,” Johnny grins, “I also remember ye said ye will treat me equally.”

“Had a feeling this was too good to be true…” Simon sighs, mask covering his smile.

“Oi!”

Simon pulls the mask off, making Johnny snap his mouth closed, “thank you.” he smirks smugly at his Sergeant’s amazed expression.

“Fuck me, I almost forgot how beautiful ye are.” Johnny mumbles.

Heat spreads over his exposed features, Simon looks away, “guess I’ll have to remind you more often.”

“Oh, please! I won’t ask fer anything else!”

Simon glances back at him, “we both know that’s fucking bullshite, Sergeant.”

Johnny laughs, tugging at his hand, “aye, ye know me too well.”

They quiet down to a comfortable silence, grins fading to soft smiles.

“Whatever comes next…” Simon inhales, grasping Johnny’s hand tighter. “We’ll do it together, love.”

Johnny lets his white flames caress Simon’s scarred hands, casting an otherworldly glow over them, making them shine as if lit from within.

If his heart could, it would be brighter than the sun now.

“Together.”

To be continued.

[inviouswriting]

Dragon and Phoenix 3

Let me start by saying this has become quite a story for me to write. This has reached 35k in words as of writing. Making this the longest thing I am writing.

This chapter makes its explicit mark so minors DNI. I am naming parts in this chapter and really worked to bring a loving dynamic to these characters.

Rating is officially 18+

Pairing - Zhongli x oc!Aserla

Content warnings below

Warnings include - sex, AFAB!sex, Virginity loss on both ends, slight anxiety attacks from Aserla, blowjob, female oral, female ejaculation/squirting, vaginal sex, consent HEAVY consent talked and healthy relationship dynamics, slight pee talk because bodily functions and wanted to insert humor where I could.

~~~~~~

 Aserla hears a steady heartbeat under her ear along with breathing. She doesn’t know how long she has been asleep, but she knows she is safe in the arms that have been wrapped loose around her. She rubs her face into Zhongli’s chest, and feels a hand rub the back of her head. She knows where she is having fell asleep on top of him after crying her heart out to him. The ancient man underneath her consoles her and has slept through most of the night with the occasional jolt from her, he suspects a nightmare by the way she is whimpering in her sleep. He can only rub her head in hope that she rouses from her sleep without screaming. He will do his best to replace her bad memories with ones that will make her joyful and ease the number of negativities in her life she had before they met.

Zhongli especially doesn’t want her to have sad faces today, not with how important things are to them both. With that thought he gently starts to blow on her face, getting her to bury her face more into his chest with a tired protest. A soft chuckle sounds from him as he follows the ear that is facing up to gently blow on it.

“My beloved dear. We should wake up. A long and busy day awaits.” Aserla blinks her eyes blearily, and curls inwards to his arms.

 “Few more minutes…” Zhongli hears this and slips his hand down along her back to rub gently, he can get use to her needing him in the mornings. He traces diamonds on her shoulders like he’s etching a protection to her the same way Venti wove protection to her before she traveled.

 “I’ll give you ten minutes, then we must get up so we can get ready to head into the city. We’ll be meeting that civil affairs worker after breakfast.” Aserla feels a shift and she is laid gently onto her side next to her soon-to-be husband. She lets her feelings drift as she wakes up, feeling that mild anxiety about how soon they’ll be signing that contract together. She keeps her face buried into his chest and thinks about how she could wake up every single day like this. With someone who loves and cherishes her very being.

Fingertips run along her cheek feeling the softness of her skin as she moves closer into his arms, trying to hide her face in his torso as much as possible. He only changes where he touches her to her ear, tracing just along the helix of it making her intake a breath as it works to rouse her further.

“Come on, my beloved. Let’s start our day, it’s been ten minutes.” The backs of his fingers brush along her face and jaw till she shivers closer. Zhongli sees her eyes open, and she lifts her head to look up into his eyes. She meets him as his head dips down to greet her with a kiss, she notes his mouth has a mint flavor to it and seeks it out. He stops her from kissing him too hard in favor of getting her to kiss his finger instead.

 “More to have later, I’ll kiss you like that after you are up and about. You’re beautiful this morning.” He smiles lovingly to her, and she feels her face heat up at being called beautiful.

 “I look a mess probably.” She retorts and he only gives her more warmth as he sits up. Her eyes follow him and bemuse she sits up leaning against him tired. Zhongli lets her lean against him, and rubs her cheek with a hand, letting her rest her head to that hand.

 “A beautiful mess. My hopeful bride.” She squeaks at this and grabs the blanket and dives underneath it is hiding her face. Zhongli only laughs at this behavior; he gently begins to pry the blanket from off her head. When he sees that she isn’t surrendering the blanket, he scoops her and the blanket up together into his arms and stands with her.  He laughs at the sudden flailing in his arms with her trying to get free.

 Aserla yelps at being grabbed like this and feels herself slowly being lowered to the ground. She lets her feet down and is set down with the sheet wrapped around her. She starts to uncover her head, and when she was about to lift it off her head, Zhongli helps her, letting her head pop out of the top with a breath being taken in. Hands gently cup her face, and she is looking up into amber eyes filled with such love for her it makes her blush.

 Zhongli looks at her, the sheet she has around her is white and gold. He feels like he just unveiled his bride, and she could never look less beautiful in his eyes. Hair messed up from their playing around and sticking out everywhere, wide blue eyes trying to read his intense gold ones. Tilting her head back he dips his head down to claim her lips in a reverent chaste kiss.

 “Isn’t it bad luck to do this before the ceremony?” She whispers against his lips; he presses another small gentle kiss.

 “If we were holding a proper wedding, it might have been. But… I think we’ll be okay if I sneak a few kisses from the bride. You won’t tell anyone right?” How can she say no when he makes such an adorable face to her.

 “I can keep it secret, besides… I wanted a few kisses.” She returns the small pecks on her lips. They linger like that till Zhongli looks over to the window to check the time of morning. He disentangles himself from her with a sigh, and heads over to one of his wardrobes to tug out the clothes he wants to wear today. He settles on something that looks more suitable for a private ceremony in a light suit still in his colors. He does take note she had hung her clothes up next to his with a smile. That was the other part of the day was to get her more belongings, dresses, soaps, and things that give her a home in his.

 “I’ll meet you outside, please be ready in fifteen? We can catch the first storyteller of the day and eat at Wanmin’s this morning.” He is eager to know what has happened on one of the stories he was following, but most important to him was waiting for Yanfei to be done with her morning case she was dealing with. She had requested that Zhongli gave her to today to clear her morning, that she had one civil dispute and he hoped it wouldn’t take long, perhaps one story will be enough to sit through and enjoy a good breakfast with Aserla.

 “Okay, it might take me a little more to be ready.” She says with a grin, he only returns her grin as he leaves the room after giving her another kiss to her head.

 “That’s okay, if you are not ready or fell asleep. I guess I’ll just have to carry you out as you are.” This makes her look at him with a blush.

 “You wouldn’t! I’m in my underwear!” Aserla looks at him with surprise in her eyes.

 “I’m sure no one will mind such a beautiful woman.” He finishes getting ready and smiles at as she curls down with the sheet over herself waiting for him to leave so she can decide her clothes. She already knows what to wear.

 “I will not get married in my underwear! You menace…” She hears him chuckle again, before the door to their room opens and he leaves to give her privacy. She springs up the moment she is alone to get dressed. If he is serious, she needs to dress now. She mutters under her breath about it, tugging on the dress of her choice. She feels silly dressing in a white silk dress that goes just above her knees. It has gold accents to it, that give her the look like she is marrying the Geo Archon. Lights to his darks, and she applies light make up, a gold to her eyes, the lipstick she applies is light pink in color. She finishes her appearance by fixing her hair up. She ties it together with a pair of white slippers she brought for this occasion.

Zhongli waits outside the house with his arms folded enjoying the morning sunlight as it crests over the hill and beams on him. He soon hears the door to his house open, and he looks over to see Aserla. His breath is caught, and he feels like that day when he first met Guizhong in that field of glaze lilies. Yet instead of a field, and instead of Guizhong, this is a woman who will give him different memories than his fallen love. He sets aside those memories and shakes his head to remind himself his past is meant to be in his past, and that this woman before him now, is his future.

 “Archons… you are beautiful… “He takes her hands as she offers them to him. He is awestruck with the way the sunlight hits her just right, illuminating her and making her truly radiant. Zhongli shakes his head more out of the thoughts that run through him, and feels almost tears in his eyes. He’s happy with this woman and he guides her with him under his arm into the city.

 “So you like this?” Aserla looks up at him as he can’t keep his eyes off of her. He even stumbles when he steps onto the bridge to the city. She snickers as he straightens himself.

“Like is an understatement my love. I love you.” He’s so love-struck that as they walk, he feels himself blush for the first time in eons. Zhongli feels his resolve strengthened with how she holds herself in public, like a whole other persona shown to him.

 They reach the gathering around Third round knock-out’s for the first storyteller in Iron Tongue Tian, and the man notices Zhongli with a new face next to him.

 “Mr. Zhongli, I missed seeing you yesterday, do you need a recap of the story? I can retell it today just for you. And who is this?” The old man notices Aserla very well, and bows out of respect to her, she returns the gesture. Zhongli smiles to this exchange as he answers.

 “If all things go well today. This is my wife, Aserla. She answered my crazy little request.” The two men exchange looks, and the storyteller smiles warm at both of them.

 “I wish you two happiness to come in your years together. For your sake then, how long do you need?” Aserla sits down at the table Zhongli sits at, and he sits next to her as his regular meal is brought out.

 “I would say two hours max. Enough time to enjoy a good story, company and a meal to calm our nerves?” Zhongli makes the request, and Iron Tongue Tian nods understanding, deciding a different story to tell, one of how Rex Lapis captured tiny creatures that brought havoc onto Liyue. Much to Zhongli’s dismay at an embarrassing story of his younger days, and why he detests seafood.

 Zhongli throughout the entire story never lifted his eyes from his bride who is watching the story with intrigue like she wants to challenge the facts, but a gentle squeeze of his hand keeps her from doing so. Their meal and tea go by soon, with Aserla leaning into his side when the storyteller focuses on a love story between two people in Inazuma choosing to defy the odds of their opposing commissions for love.

 Aserla stretches when the story comes to an end, and she looks up at Zhongli who dips his head to very briefly give her a kiss. Earning some people around them whispering about the display of affection the former Geo Lord is showing.

 “Well, that is a good thing to see, but I think you should save the kiss for after your vows are said, and this marriage license is signed.” A brisk young woman interrupts the kiss and Zhongli pulls away to greet Yanfei with a hand at the back of his head.

 “Yanfei, it is good to see you. I can’t help it when she is so beautiful. Thank you for being at the ready on short notice.” Zhongli stands from the table and gestures Aserla to follow them to somewhere more private. She does follow the two and now she feels her nerves running through her.

 They enter into a place that is designated for their little meeting, and Zhongli sits down on one side of a table and leaves the spot to his right open for Aserla to join, while Yanfei sits across from them going through her book and papers for what they need. The parchment she produces is ornate and well written out. She had taken her time to make this document pretty for the two of them and smiles proudly as she starts to read through her book for them.

 “Alright, you two are aware that with this license, you two will be bound together in law and love? That you both will be recognized as married within the entirety of Teyvat, so long as you both shall live?” Zhongli has a hold of Aserla’s hand, feeling her tense once this is read out. He even looks at her to gauge what she is thinking, he is semi worried over her expression, as he fishes a velvet pouch out of one of his pockets. He lets go of her hand to open the pouch and take out two rings he had made himself. One cor lapis band and the other is an obsidian, both with diamond decorations of obsidian in hers with etching of “I love you.” in hers and she looks at the his how it reads “I love you too.” Her realizing he made them last night after he went to take his bath. All his touching on her hand made sense suddenly, he was sizing her finger so he could make hers, and he etched their first “I love you’s.” Her heart is so full in this moment that she can feel her tears in her eyes.

“Do you two need a minute? I’ve prepared some gold ink as you requested Zhongli.” Zhongli nods to Yanfei to give them a moment to talk, and he takes Aserla’s hands into his again. She looks up to him as they sit the same way when she declared her love for him, and her vow to stay with him.

 “This is the last time I will ask you this question, my love. Aserla. You can still walk away from this; you can return to Mondstadt or go wherever you want if this is not what you really want. Do you say yes to me? To be my wife and love me and be loved by me? I will ensure you from this day, that you know nothing but endless happiness and a life full of love.” Aserla feels tears down her face at his words, for her there is many options, but the one she makes today is permanent as it binds her life to him.

Yanfei comes back into the room in time to witness Zhongli speaking but stays behind the partition to give them their privacy.

“I said to you last night, when I made my declare, that I will not be walking away from you today. That I am saying yes to you, I am saying yes to your proposal, and I will marry you today. Your words to me in private last night are what makes me stay with you, for you being so selfless that you would think of my well-being over your own. I am going home today with you. I… yes. Yes!” Aserla keeps hold of his hands and lifts her head when Yanfei steps back in to sit back down pushing the parchment closer to them both.

 “Then I don’t need to instruct you two further. Mr. Zhongli, you sign first, then she does.” Zhongli gladly picks up the ink brush dipped in gold, and carefully signs his name to this contract, their marriage license without further hesitation.  Yanfei lifts the parchment then approves of where he signed it, then sets it down in front of Aserla.

The young woman lifts her brush and follows where Yanfei points for her to sign at. Aserla signs her name with such love in her eyes that Zhongli’s breath catches in his throat again and when she rests the brush back into the inkwell, she lifts her gaze to Zhongli’s gold eyes. He has borderline tears in his own eyes at her going through with it. He had half expected her to get cold feet and run away at the last second. Not commit to him.

  “Well, with that. Do you want to exchange your rings?” Yanfei is witnessing them as they fall more in love in this moment, a sight she will be glad to keep in her memories. Zhongli nods and lifts Aserla’s hand to place her band onto her hand, and she does the same for Zhongli. Fitting their rings on their hands, Aserla looks at hers for a second in awe. Zhongli looks at his with the same awe that this is a reality and happening before him.

 “I believe with this, you two are officially married. Congratulations, Zhongli you may kiss your bride now. And please keep me posted when you want to do a official grand wedding.” Zhongli lifts Aserla’s head to meet his, her presses his forehead to hers to stare into her eyes as he touches the side of her face with his left hand. They’re both lost in each other's eyes, Zhongli leans in to kiss her fully, to seal their marriage, turning his beloved from a simple woman, into his wife.

 “I will take this with me, and you will get this in a few days when it is all notarized and stamped by the Qixing.” Yanfei whispers to leave the two alone. She takes the heavy hint to leave them be as they’re too lost in each other to notice her leave. Zhongli leaning in to kiss his wife again with enough love to make her visibly shake from the emotions that run through her.

 “Thank you, Yanfei. I’ll pass on your request and also send you your fee.” Zhongli says, and the half-adeptus only smiles as she leaves.

 “I’ll knock some of the price down for you, this arrangement got me out of this morning's civil dispute! Thank you for that! Enjoy the rest of your day and of course have a happy marriage!” Yanfei comments to him, then slips out when Zhongli leans in to kiss Aserla again.

 Aserla feels another kiss pressed to her lips and him tilting her head up more to make it deeper and more passionate. Zhongli keeps his eyes cracked to see the way her face is blushing, the way she is being kissed till she is breathless from this one. When they part from the kiss she looks to the side feeling vulnerable, and he can’t wait to get her home to shower her in so much more affection.

 “Shall we start our life together?” The former archon asks her after parting from the kiss. Reminding her they still have shopping to do for her and himself.  While he is still in part a little sad not to do his own grand display, he enjoys this smaller intimate choice. It took so much stress off them both and enables them to skip that song and dance of nerves through the long process of courtship. He’s happy and can feel he made the right decision in her.

 “Are we really married? I mean… we’re really married?” Aserla breathes out her questions, like she can’t believe it was so simple as signing her name. She had expected to get bombarded by decorations and it turned into this huge display of love he had on the sly. She might have run away if he did that, she knows she would have run away if her wishes were stepped over like that.

 “We’ve been married officially for ten minutes now. Yes, we’re really married. Not so terrible, is it? We can plan a bigger ceremony if you ever want to have one or leave it as is.” Zhongli cups her face getting her to look up into his eyes. Seeing her blue eyes, he leans down to kiss every inch of her face till she is stammering.

 “I’ve been wanting to do this since yesterday… let me do this.” He presses gentle kisses from her forehead, over both eyes when she closes them, the end of her nose, cheeks, her jaw to chin and plants the last kiss he wants on her lips leaving her feeling a tingling sensation when he pulls away. He guides her to stand with him, taking her left hand with his he raises her ring to his lips where he places a kiss like a promise to love her eternally.

“You are beautiful my beloved bride. Allow me to show you endless love.” He places another kiss on her ring, and from the touch the cor lapis glows and she feels the ring on his hand resonate with it. Like he is swearing an oath to her and sealing his pact this way.

 “Bride. I’m your bride. And you are my groom. I’m your wife… and you’re my husband now.” She is still in disbelief that of all people in Teyvat, she married the God of Contracts. Finally snapping out of her daze she hugs him tight practically jumping into his arms to hold onto him. He lifts her with ease letting her feet dangle as he holds her.

 “Yes, yes. You are my bride, my wife, my beloved. And I am your groom and husband, your beloved?” He checks with her for confirmation, wanting to hear her say it.

 “My beloved.” Aserla says and sees the way his eyes light up, and the way he dips his head down to kiss her again as he keeps her held in his arms. He rubs his face to hers after this kiss, keeping his face against hers as he holds her to him.

 “My precious Gem. Thank you for indulging this old man’s silly desire and making me truly happy. Let’s go celebrate.” He sets her down onto her feet, but she wasn’t quite ready to feel her weight again and slips down. He catches her to keep her from hitting her head on the table and presses her into it to keep her up.

 “Dearest? Do you need a few more minutes to sink it all in? Or are you okay?” He feels comfortable to call her all these endearing names now. He restrained himself besides dear and love yesterday, but now he can use all these little names he has heard other couples call each other.

“Yes, give me a few more minutes. I’m sorry, I am somewhere between scared and elated. It’s terrifying from the unknown, it’s elation from overcoming the unknown. I’ll be fine, just thank you for not surprising me with something lavish and huge. I would have run away.” He only smiles at her as he takes her hands.

 “I understand that, and you had made it clear about your preference that you would want a private ceremony like this. I was prepared either way for what you would want, whether you wanted to wait longer and go through a proper courtship or do what we did today. I had a feeling if I put you on the spot, you would have run away as well.” Zhongli helps her to her feet and when she walks next to him, he leads her out of the building they borrowed for their ceremony. Taking the first step into their life together.

 Their first place they visited was the market industry to replenish some household items. Zhongli in his soaps, and letting his love find some she likes. He stands back to let her find a few she enjoys, settling between a few of them with an orange blossom and cloves, one that is coconut and lime, and sandalwood with hints of spearmint to it. One he might steal from her on some occasions. Their next spot was for clothes, finding outfits to fill their wardrobes with and him buying an additional two dressers for her things now that she has a home with him.

 Aserla slips away from him into the shop she’s in for spicier clothing, she comes out with a blush on her face when he notices her holding bags and wants to see what she went in there for.

 “You will wait to see! Such a menace!” She playfully bats his hands away from the bags, and he takes interest in the possibility of her coming around to the idea of being intimate if she is already buying things for that. When she swats his hand again from peeking into the bag is when he catches her hand to hold it.

 “Calling your husband, a menace on the day he gets married. Can’t blame me for wanting to sneak a peek. I am a man after all, and I want to know what my darling bought to entice me with.” She sticks her tongue out at him in response to this, and he leans in to kiss her for it, catching her tongue without hesitation. She jumps from this kiss, and he chuckles as he leans into whisper something that turns her face entirely red.

 “Hmm… my dear little wife. One of these days, I’ll put that tongue of yours to far better use other than sticking it out at me.” She gapes at him for saying that, and Zhongli only smirks at her blush, leaving her to guess if he’s serious or not.

  They keep on their way only stopping to organize a delivery of food to their home, and for him to show her off to a few friends. Running into Baizhu who is more than surprised that Zhongli went through with it, and even teasingly gives them some tea that acts as an aphrodisiac. Much to Aserla’s dismay and embarrassment when Zhongli accepts the gift but promises only to use it when she wants to. That it would be rude to refuse a wedding gift.

 They stop in at Wangsheng Funeral Parlor briefly so Hu Tao could see the woman that Zhongli chose.

 “So this means I won our little bet, and you will go with my sale tactic next week!” Zhongli coughs at this and guides his beloved away.

 “I will talk to you in a few days. I think it is bad luck to visit a place of death when just getting married.” He plays off a superstition, but only earns laughter and a grin from Hu Tao.

 “Oooh, anxious to get her home, are you? Also, please don’t wear him out too much!” Aserla feels her face heat up at the implication, and Zhongli is faster on getting her out that door.

 “Director please… spare her the teasing for today.” Zhongli feels his own face hot at the same teasing. After leaving the parlor is when they go to the Heyu Tea House for lunch and to listen to another story he was following.

They stop briefly to the horticulture specialist, and Zhongli selects a series of silk flowers and glaze lilies. He sits down with Aserla as they weave together a flower ball. He instructs her hands as they make it together. He at least wanted to have one tradition he’s seen at other weddings. They found a spot to sit next to the everlasting incense burner, Aserla remembers that this place was the last spot he used the name Rex Lapis at.

 “Put your finger here please.” Aserla follows where she is instructed, and Zhongli weaves a gold ribbon around the ball of flowers they made together. He had informed the millelith that they would be tossing a ball, to gain permission. The time of day was close to late afternoon, and as they sat there tying in the last silk flower is when Zhongli lifts his gaze to his bride. Around them had gathered a small group of children and women who immediately understood that they had gotten married and were making this tradition and memory together.

 “There we go, thank you for indulging this little wish of mine. I wanted to see you toss this. Maybe it will give someone the blessing they need.” Zhongli stands and helps her to her feet. They stand at the location where he had bid his farewell to his old life. Where the group around them are seeing this take place. The sunlight washes them both in a gold hue as he looks her in her eyes with immense love.

 “My dear, we’ll head home after this, I know your feet must be tired from all the running around.” Aserla feels his hands on top of hers as they hold the flower ball. They look over the small crowd of people anxious to see them toss it over. She smiles up at him as they both lower their hands under the ball and lean over it to kiss each other.

 Without a second longer they gently toss the ball to the group, letting them bounce it between themselves before letting a little girl have it. She laughs and looks up at the happy couple. She then holds it up higher to look it over. Zhongli had woven little geo symbols throughout it and made sure to pin the glaze lilies into the top of the ball. Aserla leans into his side, and he brings her over to the incense where he gives her a kiss upon the spot, he left the archon life behind to protect his people.

 They make their way down from Yuijing Terrace, and keep walking till they reach the bridge back to their respective home. Once outside is when Zhongli lifts her into his arms and carries her through that threshold. He kisses her as he sets her down with a full embrace. They left that morning as just individuals and returned as a married couple. When she goes to leave his hold, he lets her go put her new belongings away he smiles so lovingly at her back seeing her go to add herself to his life in full by putting these things away.

A smile on her face as she heads up to their bathroom now to place her soaps and items away. She spritzes a perfume to the air she had gotten as a way to really seal in she belongs here with him. Zhongli follows her around the house as she does this, waiting for reality to hit her and knowing she will end up crying at some point and he will be there to be her solace.

 “Are you still full of lunch? I can start making something for dinner.” Aserla looks up to the doorway of the bath, she doesn’t jolt this time, finding it normal when he finds a way to sneak up on her. She moves over to him and winds her arms around him. The gentleman pulls her into his arms, and he anticipated this with the way she clings to him, and her shoulders shake as she breaksdown.

 “It’s alright to feel this, my love. I had a feeling it would hit you while you are putting stuff away. Yes! This is your life now, Yes! We are married. Yes! I love you.” He answers her words before she has a chance to cry them in his arms. He rubs her back gently as he listens to the quiet sobbing, he places loving kisses on top of her head, and down on her cheek.

 “You’re my world now… it terrifies me. Zhongli… this scares me. I don’t know what to do next.” Aserla lifts her head to look at him, he presses his thumb to her cheek to wipe away tears that stream, he also is taking care of the eyeshadow that is messing up by cleaning it off her face. He cups her face and presses a loving kiss to her lips.

 “Trust me. Trust me to fill that unknown with what you will know and know endlessly. Love.” He leans down to kiss her again, and she meets him for it. He rubs her back more to ease her mind and tension. Aserla feels so much running through her head and doesn’t feel when he lifts her up to bring her with him to the living room and sits down with her in his arms.

 “I’m still full of earlier, but I might want something later.” Aserla answers him from earlier, and he keeps her in his lap to hug her to himself. He is in awe over the resilience she is showing him trying to keep herself together while her mind is such a whirlwind of emotions. He feels her rest her head to his chest and smooths his right hand down along her hip. She tenses a little as he touches her further on her body, and he immediately moves his hand up on her waist.

“Apologies, my dear.” She looks at him with a blush as she takes his hand on her waist to guide it along her hip better. She smiles at him as she lets him touch her.

 “Please… you can touch me.” Zhongli obliges with her want to touch her. He glides his hand along her waist and down to her leg to start getting her use to him touching her body. He smiles at her as she scoots closer into his arms, he sees it on her face with a battle of wills going on.

“Do you… want to take a bath today?” Zhongli moves his hands up to her hands to hold them, his left finding hers to rub the pad of his thumb on her wedding band. He sees her face flushed as she asks this, and knows she is trying to get through the shy feeling and cross that one threshold.

 “Do you want me to take one with you? Is what you are asking?” Aserla feels her face heat up at his phrasing and nods to him confirming what she was asking.

 “Are you sure you want me to?” He gets her to lean against his chest more and slips his hands along hers to catch her hands when she plays with his. She smiles when he teases her with almost letting him catch his hands, then snaring hers and arranging them to pin her to the couch with him over her. She looks up into his eyes and feels that weightless sensation he gives her when he stares into her eyes.

 “My love, Are you suggesting this out of your own desire to take one with me? Or are you suggesting this because you feel you need to because we’re married?” Zhongli ghosts his hands on her hips to get her more use to him touching her. She feels her body starting to feel a fire from his touch, how gentle he is being with her body. She is staring up into his eyes, and he is searching her eyes for her true answer more than her mouth. Her body wants him, he can feel that with the way her hips raise with the way his thumbs rub into them.

 “I am suggesting because I want to. I… want to see you. I want to also feel you and your touch on my skin.” Zhongli is watching her eyes, and he tests to see if her mind is ready for it, by coaxing her legs apart to fit between them. He lifts her waist to let hers rest on his to sink in the position and let her feel his groin against hers, he is already slightly hard from the suggestion and uses this opportunity to let her feel what she is asking. Aserla looks up at him, and his gaze softens when she isn’t shying away or rebuking him, he sees her push closer to his waist, and it excites him further.

 “Do you want to take that bath sooner? Or warm up to the idea still?” Zhongli hovers his hands over her breasts waiting for her to be okay with him touching her more intimate places. She takes his hands and gently places them onto her breasts to let him feel her body. Gentle hands squeeze and it produces a sigh from her. Aserla can feel the effect it is having on him with the way he pushes his waist closer to hers and she can feel the bulge against her.

 “I would like to take that bath sooner. I know last night I said I might not be ready today, but I think that was just my nerves and pre-married jitters. I would… like to try tonight.” Aserla feels the way he squeezes her chest, and it makes her let out a soft moan, he repeats this touch to make her do it again. Taking joy in every little gasp she lets out, the first intimate touches he makes on a woman like this, he knew the soft skin of women, but nothing like this.

 “I can carry you into there. Please your legs on my waist, and I’ll transport you.” Zhongli smiles down as he thinks of how to make this special for her, and how to make her feel good to receive him. Aserla does as she is instructed holding onto him tight, her legs winding around his waist as he lifts her taking the moment to get a good feel of her rear and with her pressing closer she grinds against his erection in a way he likes. The friction between them both makes him moan out and his grip tighten on her waist even pushing to her.

 “I cannot wait… to be inside you.” Aserla laughs as he holds her closer, and she feels that same desire to feel him. She is carried swift from the living room to the bath, Zhongli closes the door once through the threshold gently with his foot. Setting her down on her feet, he lowers his head down to hers and claims her lips in a passionate kiss. She meets him for this kiss parting her lips to allow him to deepen the kiss with his tongue slipping into her mouth.

 Zhongli backs her up till she is against a wall, and she loops her arms around his neck as he kisses her still. She feels his hands a lot more sure of themselves as he slides them up her body focusing on warming her up to his touches with full grabs on her breasts.

 “Aahah!” Aserla’s voice sounds out in the empty room, and Zhongli wants to hear her make that noise again, so he repeats the grab that made her sound. He trails the kiss from her lips onto her neck deftly biting at the junction of her shoulder and neck. His thumbs sweep over the hardening nipples he can feel beneath the silk of her dress. He doesn’t miss her hands as they latch onto his to press his hands further into her breasts to squeeze them. He obliges with another squeeze using both hands.

 “I do not want to ruin your dress my love. May I?” Zhongli looks her in her eyes for any hesitation, he sees a brief flash of it, he chases the anxiety away with the way he gently pinches at her nipples to make her squeeze her legs together in want. Aserla turns after getting him to let go and raises her arms to let him remove her dress. He is careful with how he removes her dress; it’s here he notices her lingerie choice in a light gold color that accents her skin nicely. He smiles as he notices the way she looks, but also sees how she covers herself with her arms.

 “My love, you are beautiful.” He has her turn again so he can see her from the front. Zhongli feels her hands slip up his chest, slowly removing his vest and opening his shirt to see his torso. How her face pinks up at seeing him bearing his skin to her and letting her touch it. He smiles down at her but can see this is getting to her now that they’re in stages of undress and her trying to will herself to keep going.

 “You are also beautiful, to believe you hide this under those suits you wear.” Aserla smooths her hands on his shoulders, as she glides her touch, he lets himself feel a shiver at how good her hands feel on him, warm palms to his chilling skin. The heat of the pool near them providing enough heat. He gently begins to remove the straps of her bra to add to the growing pile of clothes.

 Zhongli leans down to kiss her neck again, a lot more focused on one spot he has read about. Just below her ear he finds the location that makes her knees buckle and he catches her as her legs give out. He kneels down over the top of her as the warm wood floor meets her back. Aserla feels him touching on her thighs and feels him as he pushes down his pants to begin removing them. She glances down expecting to see him still in a form of underwear but is surprised to see his waist bare and just how large his penis is. She feels intimidated by what she sees and shrinks down underneath him.

 Aserla sees him raise his head to look at her, wondering why she is shying away suddenly, and it made sense with where she is looking. He sits back on his knees to allow her to look at him, and really look at his body. He moves his his hands off her thighs to close them but keeps rubbing the outside of them. Hands smoothing along skin as he smiles lovingly.

 “Do you wish to stop? We can if you need more time to get use to the idea.” She sits up at this and looks at him, she doesn’t want to stop not one bit.

 “I want to keep going. Just I didn’t expect you to not wear anything under your pants. You’re… quite large… How does that fit?” Zhongli looks down at himself, he places a hand around his penis and lifts it for her view. He looks over the size of himself and sees how she is intimidated by it, a soft smile as he strokes himself along the shaft.

 “Not sure how it quite fits, I’d like to find out how with you. You’ll be my first.” Aserla looks up at him in surprise to him admitting that he’s never had sex before. She feels a little eased by this, knowing they’ll have this experience of firsts together.

“You mean, the first in this form or body.” She attempts to correct, to find out if he means for this new life. Zhongli smooths his hand down himself seeing how the skin stretches nicely and how well he knows himself to be hardening more at the thought of feeling her around him.

“First ever. Is it that strange to think that a six-thousand-year-old man has never done it?” He looks at her as she seems to be getting more comfortable with his nudity, even scooting closer so she can look at him. He holds his erection at the tip with the head resting in his palm to show her the circumference is easily three of his large fingers. He notes how tiny she is, and it makes her more endearing when she hovers her hand out to touch him.

 “There were a lot of books in the restricted sections of libraries that detailed your sex life. I was certain that you had experience from the way you were teasing me yesterday. She retracts her hand from wanting to touch him when he lets go of himself.

“Merely false. Did it try to detail me and Guizhong? Or Cloud Retainer?” He doesn’t laugh, he takes this seriously so that one day he can make a visit to that library, and make those books disappear.

“Yes, it depicted you as greedy in that sense, but I was determined to be with you even if I knew that.” A hand lifts her chin so that she is looking into amber eyes that have a love and devotion directed to her.

“Those are just works of fiction. I would never do something so sacred as sex with anyone for mere pleasure. Even when I was with Guizhong. We never crossed that threshold; she was too pure to be seen in that kind of way. I loved her for a much different reason, with the way she shined. Me and Cloud Retainer are merely good friends. We’d never do something like that. I made my decision eons ago, that this is an act when and if I were to ever take this type of contract. It would be between me and my beloved. Of course, you will keep our sexual details to ourselves. Unless… you feel like using us as material for writing.” He does tease her enough to get her to smile. He tugs her closer into his lap.

“Thank you for disclosing that with me… I feel better. Let me... take the rest of these off?” She requests him to let her remove the underwear she had left on. Zhongli sits back against the wall he initially had her pinned to. He watches her stand, with her side to him as she tugs off the panty she is wearing. He really takes in her body when she removes the last of her clothing.

 “You are beautiful my love. And my love… you are all I’ll ever need and want.” He watches her as she returns to his hold, but before she can sit down in front of him. He keeps her standing so he can really look at her, from her loose brownish hair framing her face, blue eyes looking at him with hope he will enjoy what he sees in her. Full breasts that he enjoys feeling their weight in his hands, pale skin dotted with freckles in unique spots. He wants to look and kiss every inch of her body. He notes how she is full around her mid-section and waist. He only finds her attractive in the way a husband can when he sees his wife nude for the first time. Zhongli is looking at all her parts from her legs, till his eyes land on the start of her labia and notes she keeps herself clean of hair here.

Zhongli gets her to sit into his lap comfortable after one jump from feeling his penis against her thigh. She is met with a kiss, him cradling her head in his hands to kiss her in full. Aserla parts her lips to the kiss and slips her tongue along with his when his comes in to play. He hums in approval at her being so receptive to his touches and kisses. He runs his hands along her body touching over her thighs to warm her to his touch getting her use to being touched by him. Zhongli glides his hands along her inner thighs till he cups her mound drawing a moan out of her.

Aserla deepens the kiss with him, leaning up into his touches and kisses. He plants a series of kisses all over her face, he presses his hands on her abdomen and glides his hands down along her thighs gently spreading her open when his hands cup her. Zhongli hears her let out another moan as his hands move back down to slip his fingers along her folds curling them along the crease his middle finger brushing along her clit making her jolt in his grasp and moan more into the kiss.

“You’re driving me insane.” Zhongli murmurs into her ear when he parts from the kiss. He repeats his hand movements along her waist, his fingers massaging her abdomen down her mound till his fingers slip in along her labia to brush that nub again. She feels so hot that she rolls her hips down to his fingers when he rubs along her folds clumsily but follows the motions of her hips on what makes her feel good listening to what her body wants.

 Aserla’s mind is hazy as her body is being touched that she feels overwhelmed by what she is feeling. Zhongli moves his hands from her waist to cup her breasts; lifting them up so he can kiss over them. His lips gently nibbling at the end of her nipples experimenting with flicking his tongue along them then takes one into his mouth to suckle. She keens out into his ear, and it makes him twitch as he listens to the sounds she makes. He wants her; his need for her is intense as he kisses his way from her breast up along her neck till, he ghosts a hot breath on her ear that produces another moan out of her.

 “How are you good at this?” Aserla shivers from the small and hot kisses he leaves on her ear. He does something she didn’t expect with a rumbling purr into her ear that sends heat straight to her belly, and she feels a wetness along her thighs.

 “I am simply.. listening to your body my love. The way you respond to my touch or kiss. Your neck and shoulders are very sensitive, and you seem to really enjoy me touching here. Hmm? What’s this.” Aserla looks at him as he pulls back to lift his hand from between her legs, from his fingertips her slick is coating them enough for it to drip off the ends of his fingers. She looks at him with such surprise on her face and almost a burn of embarrassment from the way she came on his hand.

 “It looks like you really enjoyed that. Do you want more?” Zhongli smooths his hands up her body again, he focuses on touching around her waist, squeezing her hips and using his fingers along her mound like earlier to keep her excited for him, he brings his fingers up to his lips to clean her juices off them finding her taste intoxicating. He occasionally brings his hands to tweak at her nipples then squeezes her breasts full.

 “I do want more, please let me touch you?” Zhongli listens to her wants and gives her folds a sweep of his fingers just to hear that whine. He smirks against her skin as he reclaims one of her nipples to suck on, really enjoying the taste of her skin and the little shudder she makes. When he complies with her request he sits back more against the wall and parts his own legs to allow her to touch him.

 “By all means, take your time to learn my body and get use to me. I know you’re still intimidated by the size, but I have a feeling… you’ll fit just fine.” Aserla moves in closer to him, she is trembling from the excitement he had made her feel, her legs are barely supporting her as she has never felt this way even by her own hands.

She’s clumsy as she reaches him, he encircles his arms around her waist to keep her up as she falls into his arms. He sees the way she gently touches his lips with trembling fingers. He kisses her fingers noting this is her left hand touching his face. He takes her hand to kiss her wedding band, he rubs his cheek against the back of her hand to give her reassurance to touch him.

Aserla smiles as he kisses over her fingers, it is what she needs to keep going, to steel her own nerves. She leans in to kiss him and he meets her kiss halfway, soft and tender between them. She feels the light nibbling on her bottom lip while she smooths her hands from his face to touch along his neck. She follows the same path in touch he did on her, lowering her hands to touch over his nipples to see if he reacts the same way she does. He visibly shudders when her fingers pinch at them and he looks at her with warning gold eyes for teasing him like this.

 “I can’t promise to remain gentle if you tease me like that my dear.” A chuckle between both of them as she leaves the nubs alone in favor of running her hands along his abs. She presses her hands in to feel how toned he is, hearing the way he intakes his breath at this. She repeats this letting her fingertips glide lower till they touch along the outer of his thighs.

 “You only need to be gentle the first time. I want to explore every possibility to please you.” Aserla inches her hands closer to his erection, she looks up into his eyes and feels really watched by those amber eyes. She rubs her hands along Zhongli’s inner thighs till her fingers brush over heat and softer skin of his penis. She hears him let out a shaky breath, his restraint is wearing thin, but he responds to the way her hands skim over the hard flesh. She hears him intake a bigger breath when she closes her hand around the base of his erection and lifts it the way he did earlier to show her. He pushes his hips up to her hand to feel more of her soft hand on him.

 Zhongli moves one of his hands down to ease her hand on touching him feeling how she is trying to figure out how to grip him. Grimacing when she does it too tight, then sighs when her fingertips grace over the tip. Aserla follows his guidance on touching him, starting to pump him slowly at first, following the way he rolls his hips up. She looks down to get a good look at his erection, even lowering her head down to see how he twitches in her hand. She blushes more as she lowers her head till her plush lips touch the head.

 “My love, you’re doing things to me, I never thought you to be this bold.” He sighs under his breath reveling in how her lips feel on such sensitive flesh. Aserla sucks at the engorged tip, hearing him let out a guttural moan in pleasure and how his hands leave hers to entangle into her hair. Encouraging her to take more of him into her mouth, he almost wants to let go into the mouth of hers, but he desires his first release to be when he’s buried so deep within her and feeling her body shaking from what he will do to her. He keeps hold of her head to prevent her from going down further, focusing on just the end of him, he’s enjoying the slight cool sensation from when her mouth is off him.

 “Don’t you want to? I mean you made me…” Aserla wonders why he is stopping her from going further. Afraid she isn’t pleasing him the way he pleased her earlier. Zhongli only smiles warm at her, his eyes hold his emotion of love, warmth, and desire.

 “I want to more than anything. I want to have your mouth on me a lot deeper than this. But my dear sweet beloved wife. I want the first time you make me cum like that be within your body. If you want that same thing. If not, then I’ll be content to your mouth then.” He brushes his fingers through her hair, focusing on cupping her cheeks to lift her off and up. She smiles as she understands, this is his first time being intimate with someone as much as it is hers. Seeing the way, he is blushing admitting his desires, he has his cute moments. Seeing him flustered and trying to hold back to keep from doing what he wants.

 Aserla feels anxious when he moves to guide her to lie on her back. He’s gentle with how he does it cradling her head, so she doesn’t bump it on the floor. Zhongli lowers down to kiss her again; he gently parts her lips with seeking permission to press his tongue along the crease of her lips. She grants him that permission, opening her mouth to receive his kiss to deepen it.

 Aserla feels her head spinning while her husband roams his hands along her body again. He smooths his hands down from her arms, breasts, and glides them over her hips to coax her legs further apart. She is feeling shy about the way his hand slips between them, his fingers touching over her folds his middle pressing in to rub circles around her clit again.

 Zhongli gently spreads her open, and this is where her nerves start feeling more anxious with how his fingers slip closer to the opening of her sex. She grasps his arm, feeling a little scared by this movement. He sees this and backs his hand from touching her like that just yet, taking the hint to warm her up more.

 “Do you need to stop?” He is checking her mental state, he knows she is overwhelmed, and feeling the gravity of what they’re doing. He rests his left hand onto her face, rubbing her cheek gently. He lowers his head to kiss her face to reassure her choice and options to do this.

 “Just need a minute, can you keep rubbing above there?” Zhongli catches her right ear gently between his teeth to nibble lightly. The world is starting to melt away for her again and feels when his fingers slip down but only to collect the slick she is leaking, using it to rub her clit, taking it between his finger and thumb to roll it as he listens to her keen out louder and move her hips wilder. He can feel himself losing it but holds back for her sake. He travels down her body, kissing her neck leaving a slight red mark behind as he hears her feeling good.

 Aserla watches him going lower down her body, taking care to flick his tongue on a nipple to suck on it. She feels the way his tongue swirls around it till it’s hardened then pulls off with a wet pop. He blows a cool breath on it then does the same thing to the other one. Zhongli kisses his path down her body; moving his hands up to squeeze her middle, enjoying the way her skin is so supple to his presses.

 Zhongli can get use to seeing the way her body sinks under his touch like this. He finds the slight full of her body endearing and a sign of being healthy. He continues his path down, lifting her waist up, till he drapes her legs over his shoulders. She feels that same anxious fire pooling in her belly at what he’s doing, feeling the heat of his breath on her folds.

 “Zhongli…” Aserla brings her fingers to her lips to nibble on one, seeing him being so gentle guiding her folds apart. She feels his breath on her most heated part, witnessing this former god about to do something she’s read in those seedy novels Lisa kept hidden away. Her thoughts die in her mind at the first languid lick of his tongue against her clit.

 “Zhongli!!!” He hears his name said in such a needful voice, he needs her ready for him and relaxed. She feels the way he pulls his mouth back to lick at his lips, Aserla looks down to him and is met with molten gold staring back up at her face. He hooks his arms under her waist and guides her legs further apart to spread her open to his eyes. He sees the one spot he has been pleasing with his fingers how it stands up more when it’s uncovered. He presses soft kisses at her folds, warming her up as he drags light licks along her clit more circling around the base of it till her feels her shake underneath his ministrations.

 “My dear sweet love. I am going to make sure you experience… so much that you never know a day without some form of bliss.” As Zhongli says this as he moves in closer, he places his entire mouth on her after parting her labia to envelope her clit with warmth. The sheer scream she lets out is almost enough to make him release out of knowing he is pleasing her.

 Aserla’s senses are wild, and she feels more overwhelmed to almost tears as she feels his tongue swirl around that nub, she digs her fingers into his hair to tug him closer. She is sure she had another small orgasm just from him doing this, but that does little to make him stop sweeping his tongue around it. She is aching to feel him, that she misses his fingers sliding along her entrance. He keeps her distracted with keeping her clit in his mouth while his tongue slips lower. He is careful here with how he opens this part of her so his tongue can press along the sensitive ring.

 “Z-Zhongli!! I!! I don’t want your fingers to be the first thing in there!” He retreats his fingers immediately upon what she is saying. He even pulls his mouth away to be sure she is okay. His eyes full of concern, did he accidentally tread on her comfort zone. He can see tears in her eyes and softens his gaze more as he lowers her waist down to the floor to completely respect her choice.

 “I’m not saying stop. I just… like what you want… I want the first time I experience anything inside… be you..” He understands completely, and even crawls up over her to properly kiss her in apology for not understanding earlier when she shied away from her saying no to him placing his fingers there earlier.

 “I’m sorry my love, I had to prepare you. I didn’t want you to be in pain from taking me without being aroused. I cherish you far too much for you to have any discomfort.” Zhongli explains his methods, and she returns his kiss, wrinkling her nose a little at her own taste.

 “Thank you… I feel better about this choice now. Does it taste that good? You seemed to be really enjoying it.” She sees the way he brings the hand he was using to please her to clean off and chase any remnant of her essence. He looks at her mid lick on his fingers, she can’t help but laugh at the expression he has, he looks so silly wide eyed like he got caught in the moment.

 Zhongli looks at her as she is laughing at him, wondering why she is laughing. Did he make a weird face? She’s laughing so hard that she has more tears in her eyes than her nearly crying. Adding onto how endearing she is to him, and he can’t help letting his own chuckle out because she’s so cute.

 “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to laugh! Your face! You look like you got caught stealing frosting off a cake!” She resumes laughing and he joins her in this once he realizes how it must look, cleaning off his fingers. So he changes the way he does it, giving her a sultrier look instead of surprised.

 “There is a first for everything. Being called a menace within minutes of being married. Being laughed at as I’m trying to make love to you too? I’m glad if you are able to relax.” Zhongli sees the way she calms down from laughing when she notices the way he changes how he chases her essence off his fingers. This makes her feel like prey under his eyes, and his tone shift is deeper making her really want him now.

 Aserla lets out a soft moan when she feels him lift her hips again, his hands are careful in parting her labia apart again. He uses his other hand to guide his erection along her slick to coat himself in it. Grinding gently for the purpose of keeping her aroused, and further to lubricate himself for what is next.

Zhongli feels that searing slick heat against his tip, and it takes everything in him to not push in all at once. He hears her whining as he guides himself pass the first part of her, the tip of him stretching her wide, and she almost vaguely wishes she let him prepare her more with his fingers. She holds her breath, and Zhongli is right there kissing her face as she is crying from the push in. He pauses to fully stop, cupping her face in his hands to plant gentle and reassuring kisses. The way she squeezes him, he’s proud of her for trusting him with this moment.

“Breathe my love, breathe.” Aserla feels him rub his face against hers, she’s trembling from her anxiety running through her body. She is crying from fear of being hurt that he starts to pull out of her body. He draws his hips back and slips out of her and his hands go down to do what he did earlier with rubbing her waist to her hips. Warming her up, and to importantly reassure her that she is safe, and she still can tell him to stop. He glances down at himself and does note the slight blood from breaching pass that part of her. He dips his hand into the water next to them to clean it off in case she looks down and sees it.

 “I’m sorry… I don’t want to stop.” She wipes her face and tries to put on a smile for him, and Zhongli presses his forehead to hers. Keeping her from looking away from his eyes. He is trying to decide if he should stop for both of them, or at her behest to keep going despite her trying her hardest to push pass the mental hurdle of thinking he’s going to hurt her.

 “My love, it’s okay to be scared. It’s normal to feel like this. It takes a lot to trust someone like this. To accept someone into their body is a unique thing, and it is scary. I am scared I’ll hurt you by accident. I don’t want to see your face so terrified. What has you scared?” Zhongli thumbs away tears that stream down from her eyes on her cheeks. She is shaking like a leaf, and he lifts her up into his arms better.

“So many women claim how it hurts. I’m also scared you won’t find me desirable after this. How some husbands never touch their loved ones after doing this the first time. I know.. my body isn’t the best.” Aserla has her face kissed all over it, he is kissing her with such heat in them, and some leave her feeling light-headed. Her husband quells her last fears as he keeps himself grinding against her to keep both of them ready.

“My dear sweet love... There is no way I will ever find you undesirable after this. As for women who find it painful… that is what I was doing earlier in making sure you are well aroused before this step. Inexperienced lovers once they get the green light to have sex… they don’t always prepare each other properly. If you want. I can use my fingers to show you. Unless you still want me to push in first.” Hearing him explain it this way, it calms her down, she is still wants him, the grinding he has been doing to keep her body prone and able to accept him.

“I still want your penis to be the first thing inside. I want that more than your fingers.” Aserla is still trembling, her teeth are chattering from her panic attack she had. Zhongli leans down to kiss her again, and she is receptive to his kiss.

“Very well. If you are in pain, let me know. I have your consent to keep going?” He keeps kissing her face while his hands warm her thighs again. When he sees her nod, he guides his erection again along her opening. Slowly he repeats the process of pushing into her, he notes how it is much easier without that one barrier. The former archon sees her relaxing instead of tensing up, he has to bite back a laugh as her moment of mental strain was a result of virginity anticipation.

Zhongli pushes deeper than where he was earlier, and he’s back to that sensation down his own spine of being surrounded by wicked soft heat. He wants to stay buried within her as he bottoms out. Aserla feels him stop moving and looks up at him. He regards her with such reverence in his eyes as she slips a hand down between them to feel for herself if he went through with it.

“You’re inside…” Aserla is trembling again but instead of anxiety or fear making her tremble it is excitement. She feels his hand rub her face, his thumb on her cheek as he runs his fingers through her hair comforting as he rests there within her. She feels like a dream to him, she’s hot, wet, and soft inside, and it is taking every ounce of willpower to not ravish her.

 “I am… and you feel so divine. Are you okay?” Zhongli sees her lean her head into his hand, seeking his comfort as he gives it to her. He keeps still waiting for her to adjust to his size. She cups his face as he leans down to kiss her, she hums into the kiss and moans into it when he pushes his hips down further to feel her as much as he can.

“Yes, I am okay, and you feel good too.” Aserla sighs into the kiss, and Zhongli gives her a loving smile when he feels her relax around him, a sign she is good for him to move. Move he does, slowly drawing his hips back then pushing back in with shallow thrusts. He keeps focusing on that lovely wet heat sensation around him, he wants to feel more at the tip of himself and gets into a steady rhythm with her.

Seeking his hands out, Aserla grabs hold of both of his hands to hold tightly when he begins to thrust into her. She whimpers a bit at first from the started motions not use to the way it feels till he brushes a spot that makes her mind fuzzy, and she loses herself. Zhongli keeps hold of her hands as he settles into their movements, his hips raising a lot more to draw back till he is almost slipping out then sinking right back in causing her to moan out a lot louder for him.

 “That’s my girl… that’s my beauitful girl. Keep… feeling good. Focus on me and what you feel. Let me ease all your worries, and really start to feel it.” He murmurs into her ear after tapering their kiss off so he can suckle at her neck. One of his hands goes down to grasp at a breast to squeeze it, his fingers teasing at her nipple. He’s enthralled by her, how she seems to be more responsive to one movement he does deep within her and finds it when her eyes go wide, and she screams out for him.

 “Zhongli! Ah! Morax!” Her using his other name does something to him, he is rolling his hips harder into her, he’s doing his best to remain in control till she whimpers that name under her breath. Zhongli lets her use it for now, one of these days he will remind her of his proper name to use. He keeps her in this moment with him, pressing his forehead to hers again to lock eyes, seeing her pleading gaze.

 “Yes my love? You feel good? Keep focusing on that feeling. I’m getting there too.” Zhongli slips a hand between them to touch at her clit to roll it between his finger and thumb again. He watches her face twist in pleasure, Aserla is pleading him even more with her eyes, unsure what she is wanting. He is listening to what her body is asking him, her voice ringing out in the room off the walls, being the sound he wants to keep hearing.

 “I feel something good… Something in my belly… I want to cum!” Aserla feels heat pooling tighter in herself, she almost feels embarrassed like she is about to pee, but it doesn’t feel the same way. She is shaking again as he speeds up his fingers on her clit till, she is raising her hips into his ministrations.

“Cum my dear. You’re going to feel so good when you do. Do you want me to inside you?” The question makes her look up at him, as she can’t think of where else she wants him to do that. She tightens her thighs on his sides, and he takes the hint of where.

“You… feel so good... I am about to as well my love. Keep focusing here.” Zhongli keeps his fingers on her clit, he rubs faster while his hips move in tandem to keep her always teetering on that edge of pleasure till, he feels it. The way she gets wetter around him, and the scream that comes from her as she lets go. The buildup of what was pooling inside her, Aserla gushes it out onto his hand and lap as she cums hard.

“Tight… so tight… Aserla… you feel so good.” Zhongli groans out in her ear as his hips move a lot harder chasing his own high now. He had been focusing on that hot slippery sensation that it doesn’t prepare him for the tight clench that catches him when he pushes in deep is when he cums within her. A very hot sensation floods Aserla’s abdomen, and she looks up at him only to see those gold eyes closed and his mouth open as he focuses on his own moment of feeling good.  He looks so lost in his own inner bliss, Aserla is blushing even more when his hands have moved to guide her legs to the side so he can lie on top of her, his entire strength used up in this single act.

 “My love, let me stay like this for a while.” He hugs her to himself, as it is Zhongli’s turn to feel vulnerable, he lets out his own tears into her hair where he buries his face into intake her unique scent she possesses, ignoring the sweeter intoxicating smell of her release to avoid wanting to go again so soon after she has came for the first time.  He remains buried so deep within her, and Aserla feels so safe like this, waiting for him to calm down.

 “I don’t think I can move anyway.” She hears him chuckle, the sound reverberates from within his chest, and she feels the way he moves so he can lay on his side with her. He begins to pull out of her, and she sighs from the loss of the feel of him. Almost a lonely sensation, Zhongli looks down at her as she smooths her hands onto her sensitive vulva, watching as she slides her fingers along herself to check her body, patting a lot where he was just buried. He rests his head against her hand as she touches herself but winces slightly from how tender that ring is.

 “What are you doing dear?” Aserla looks up at him feeling sheepish, at checking herself. He finds her absolutely endearing and can’t help watching her do these innocent motions.

 “I thought there would be blood...” He catches on to what she is checking for, and leans down to kiss her face, focusing on her reddening cheeks.

 “You did bleed a little bit when I first attempted. I didn’t want you to be alarmed if you looked down, so I cleaned us up if you wanted to stop. Or it being the reason we did stop because the way the mind works when it sees blood.” He focuses on kissing her cheeks more as they darken. He has fallen so deeply in love with her, in such a short amount of time. Zhongli is happy this is the time he chose for that first time, there is no other sensation of spending it with someone you truly cherish.

 “Oh... how did it feel for you? Did you... enjoy me?” A puff of hot air from him as he chuckles again at her questions.

 “You felt amazing, like this comfortable heat around me, I kept wanting to feel it everywhere on me. You also made so many cute faces, I thoroughly enjoy you. In fact, I want you again. But that can wait till later, you’re probably sore from being bent in such an odd position.” She puffs her cheeks at him, she wants to go again as well. She finds herself wanting to feel him even more, but somewhere a lot softer than the floor of the bathroom.

 “I wouldn’t mind if we did it again…” Aserla feels her nose tapped, and Zhongli is right there to kiss her face lovingly again.

 “My beloved. Do not unduly tire yourself for my sake. We have an eternity together, let’s enjoy this afterglow together.” Zhongli sees her pouting and almost caves to her want but remains steadfast in not wearing her out to pain.

 “If you feel like it when we go to bed, I can take you again there. For now, we need to start your aftercare.” The former archon gets onto his knees, and it is there she looks at his waist seeing it extra shiny than from sweat and does note the faint smear of blood she does see. She remembers how she came, and it makes her ten times embarrassed that she covers her face. Zhongli looks at her and folds his arms slightly wondering why she’s embarrassed now.

 “Did I really pee on you?” She is mortified and he is puzzled before he remembers what she is referring to. He collects a basin full of warm water from the bath, along with one of the soaps they picked up for her. He chooses the orange blossom one and returns to her as he thinks of how to answer her.

 “No, it isn’t what you think it is. It comes from the same way my semen does. A buildup of unique fluid, it smells a lot sweeter than that. I want to taste you one of these times we do this.” He uses a washcloth first on her body to start cleaning her of fluids and sweat along with the day. He is gentle around her privates, even spreading her open much to her embarrassment again, feeling satisfied seeing his seed leaking from her.

 “You want to? Taste that?” Aserla lets out a sigh when his hands knead into her flesh paying attention to her shoulders and hips again. She didn’t notice how sore her thighs are till he uses soap in that area.

 “I do. It’s intoxicating to me, and I already know I like it from earlier when you were dripping it. I can do that now if you still want more pleasure.” He says it so calmly and that makes her so shy over how he can say these things so second nature. The idea of him pleasing her with his mouth again. She wants to feel his tongue again, how good it felt.

 Zhongli keeps rubbing her body down with soap and water till he is certain she is relaxed, massaged well, and dumps the rest of the warm water on her to rinse her off. He sets about cleaning his body, paying attention to his lap where some of her essence still drips off of him. He has a good view of her as she parts her legs, following the phantom feel of her husband when he was within her. He swallows hard as he sees the part in her folds focusing hard enough to see a bit of his seed.

 “The things I’ll do to you… if you keep being so innocent like this.” Aserla looks up at him and sees that hungered stare he has for her as she keeps her legs apart more from the feel of her thighs still tense. She blushes seeing where he is focusing his attention on.

 “I swear, I’m not baiting you! It still feels very sore on my thighs, I was seeing if I could stretch the muscle.” Zhongli douses himself with water to rinse himself as he listens to her. He smiles down at her as he moves closer to place his hands where hers are to massage the spots that still hurt from being used in an unnatural way. When he starts to knead into the junction of her thighs, she ends up laughing from being ticklish.

 “Ohh? Is my little wife laughing?” Aserla looks up at him with mild fear as he discovers this spot of hers. Predatory gold eyes regard her with a smirk as he hooks his fingers to take advantage of this ticklish spot listening to her howl in laughter kicking her feet and squirming around.

 “Zhongli! Please! If you keep that up! I really will!!” She manages between her laughter and giggles. His hands land on her sides and ribs, he continues his onslaught on her body till she wraps her arms around herself and tries to protect the sensitive spots only to open up her rear for a well-timed swat earning a surprised yelp.

 “You really will what? You can tell me. I may or may not laugh.” Zhongli smirks down at her when she rolls back onto her side giving him access to her ribs and arms. Her face is redder when he’s trying to pry out what will happen if he keeps tickling her.

 “It’s embarrassing! I don’t want to tell you that!” She covers her face at the idea of telling her husband. That if he keeps making her laugh, she really will pee, and it makes her sit up to still his hands as she keeps him from her belly.

 “Ooh… are you afraid you’ll p-” Aserla is covering his mouth as if to keep it a full secret. Her face red as she bowls him over to keep him from talking. She plants both of her hands on his mouth and lets out a frustrated growl.

 “Don’t say it! You menace! I can’t believe you!” Zhongli lets out a wholehearted laugh at how she is reacting to this. He lowers his eyelids a little and takes in how this tiny woman knocked him over and is covering his mouth over something so natural.

 “Say what? You about to pee yourself?” He’s met with water splashed at him from the bath she douses him in water, and her getting off of him to go into the bathroom side to take care of her problem cleaning her hands well and yelling back at him.

 “You are an absolute menace!!! I cannot believe you said that to me! We’re supposed to be making this romantic! Not talking about THAT!” She sits with her back to door and her face in her hands embarrassed to face her husband after that kind of talk. The door behind her opens, and Zhongli collects her into his arms.

 “It is still romantic my love. You must not fret over such frivolous things such as normal bodily functions like that. One should see how humor and romance go together. And if I so happen make my wife have small accidents because she’s laughing so hard. Then I’ll take that as an accomplishment to know I have a truly happy wife.” He presses his face into the crook of her neck and kisses it. It takes her a few minutes to realize what he had said, first focusing on the sweet words, then scoffing with a screech in the back of her throat at his latter words.

 “Morax!” Said man kisses her shoulder as he scoops her more into his arms and walks to the bath sitting in the middle of it with her between hot and lukewarm. She wriggles in his grasp and further splashes him for what he was saying. He retaliates by splashing her just as much, laughing as much as she is. Their little water fight ends when he pulls her into his arms and lap, and she meets him to kiss accepting his apology for embarrassing her so bad.

 Aserla tucks herself into his arms even more, feeling the weight of the day finally hit her. Within seconds of being content in his arms she is falling asleep, from the warmth of the water, and the love of the man holding her. Zhongli is careful as he collects her into his arms to carry her to their bed. He dries her off before getting her into the center and soon laying with her cuddled up.

 “You are my world now. Rest my beloved little wife. We have a lot of things we can now do tomorrow. I hope you are ready for the kind of love you’ve dreamed of; I promise to fulfill every single fantasy you can come up with. I love you dearly. My little phoenix.” He promises her as he lets her cling to him tired and ready to sleep as well. He whispers that last little bit, truly seeing a woman being reborn by fire before him.

 “I love you too my sweet dragon, please don’t make me pee myself.” He hears her tired voice and laughs again as he gets another small memory to tease her over. He lowers his head to kiss her face. Zhongli feels truly blessed by this woman, in all her strange little quirks, and how funny she can be.

[dirtytransmasc]

Hi yes, I would desperately like to see your *insert original media type* please

I have so many at this point for 80 different fandoms, all in different levels of being wips, I couldn't even pick one to show you lol, this is just a very very common feeling I have.

but I might as well give you something, so have some sad, gay, religious trauma ridden "poetry" I wrote after playing Sally face (it's for Travis and his sad little crush on sal), but it could be read as any old queer angst cause there's very little character description.

I doubt this piece a lot, I feel like it's too much and not enough at the same time. there's most likely half a million typos, but my lack of confidence in this piece got so bad I don't even want to look at it anymore.

tw for extreme internalized homophobia.

~~~

Some romances are sweet and gentle; the girl gets the guy. She bats her eyelashes and twirls her hair, he hides his blush with his bravado and sweeps her off her feet. they are joined in holy matrimony, the lord looking down on them with pleasure.

This isn’t one of those romances. For I am the boy who will never get the other boy. I will rub my wet eyes raw and pull at my hair till theres is nothing left to pull at. I may have him, but only ever in sin. I will never have him in your eyes, Lord.

This isn’t sweet nor gentle. This is treacherous and painful and all-consuming.

He’s my destruction, my end, my point of no return. He is my salvation, my respite, my beginning, my place of origin.

I would know him in insanity, as that is where I have come to know him. I know nothing of him. I would know him in death, as that is how far I will go for him. he knows nothing of me. I will know him in pain and sorrow, as that is all he brings me. He’s never uttered a word in my direction, not knowingly. To think he’s spared me a glance would be a mercy on my aching heart.

I couldn’t tell you his favorite color or what he does to fill his free time. I don’t know anything about him. He is part of me. We have never been one. He doesn’t even know how I stare, how I long and pine, how I would snatch my soul from the lord, how I would sell it to the devil himself for just a single kiss, a touch of the fingers, to snatch gently at a single wisp of his hair. Anything. Even the most miniscule of affections would be everything. For him to simply know my name, for him to look at me as I look at him would be enough.

though, in the end, I would never dare do such a thing, I would never curse him to share my fate, because I love him. I would never pray for him to be a sinner like me. He deserves the greatest of heavens, not to be licked at by flames, cursed for all of eternity to never know rest.

Yet, when I lie in bed longing that he is, that he nurtures this beautiful curse like a poisonous flower that grows in our chests. That we could be sinner’s together. Its shameful, horrific, cruel, but a feeling that I cannot shake.

It doesn’t help that his voice, the parables that fall from his lips, sound as though they are the words of God Himself. His laugh could cure sickness, the sound of his smile lilting his voice ever so slightly, could bring about the greatest of peace. it is etched into my memory, it plays in the softest of dreams and darkest of nightmares. I could pull it from a crowd, it is the only voice that matters. I believe that when I die, when I sink into hell, it will be his voice there, as it will be my greatest torture, it will be my greatest respite.

I see all that is horrid about him, the scars that mar his skin and burdens he carries on his shoulders, shattering his clavicles and crushing his vertebrates. I see all of the things that make him ugly and unwantable, and want him more. I see everything that is beautiful, that mark him an angel, and seek to honor him. Where some see a monster, I see something godsent. What some seek to lust, I seek to honor. I see his grace, his holy divinity. It is something untouchable.

He is divine, he is my greatest sin. He is an angel, a demon, the Christ reborn once more, an eldritch horror. In my heart he is mine.

Lord forgive me for I have sinned, I wish to fall flesh to flesh with another man, no, boy. We are boys. We are boys in love. I am a boy in love, he has the mercy of not knowing me. Forgive me lord for I lust, not to touch with any lude manner, but to hold his hand in mine, to feel the gentle roughness of his palm against my own. I wish to kiss his brow and wake to his sleep filled eyes, to see his bed head first hand, to feel how sleep warms his skin, how he would wrap his arms around me when he turns back over from hitting snooze. I wish to kiss him ever so gently. Forgive me lord for being in love, for wanting the simple pleasures, for doing it all wrong. I am wrong.

Am I wrong? If I am wrong, why would you create me like this?

I would surely die if I were to admit these thoughts to anyone but you, Lord, and even you will one day claim your revenge against me, you will come to smite my soul, but that is ok. Until then, I will simply thank you, for making me wrong, for creating such a beautiful sin, so that I may lust after your creation, one so heavenly, with the tainted innocence of a boy who was robbed of it with bible verses and the screams of preachers so long ago, but still clings to the idea of it. Of being pure and holy. Of loving innocently like the child I still feel myself to be.

Until the day my soul is consumed by the flames, I will tell you all about him. Until that day I will drag my chains, shackles, and cinder blocks so I can just bask in his light a little longer. Maybe one day I will hold his hand and pretend I do not feel your shame and humiliation. Maybe one day I will kiss him ever so softly, like two children on the playground, and I will act as though I am not damning myself, like we together are not damned to the flames. Maybe I was always meant to be sinner, maybe its worth it.

Yes, yes it’s worth it. I will commit a million sins, with prayers still on my tongue, with a love so deeply rooted in my chest that I still praise your name despite the disgust you surely hold for me, just to be with him. You can damn me, you can shame me, your holy messengers can attempt to change me, to beat me, to kill me, to snuff me out and take my love. But I will never not love my perfect sin. I will chose it every time.

I will be the boy, who loves another boy. I will sing hymns, wear my rosary, go to church, kneel in the pews with pride. I will hold his hand and love him for as long as he allows. I will feel the burn of hell under each strike of my feet upon your earth and be comforted by his hand in mine, and mine in his, the gentle roughness of his palms, the heavenly essence of his voice, the love of two sinners binding us together.

[todoscript]

SYNOPSIS: Years of memories pouring out, Katsuki and Shouto confront their feelings for you in your very hospital room.

pairing(s): bakugou katsuki x fem!reader, todoroki shouto x fem!reader

genre: angst.

word count: 4.5k+

warnings: really self-indulgent fic, characters are aged-up, implied sexual content, mentions of drinking alcohol, jealousy, reader identifies as female with she/her pronouns, 

author’s note: so i found this pretty old wip i wrote before i made my blog, and after reading it over, i decided hey why not publish it? so i finished it up, did some cleaning, and heres what we got. sorry if it seems kind of shaky, i did my best with what i initially had!

“Bakugou… what are you doing here?”

Shouto enters the room with freshly bought peonies in his hands—one of the many dozen he had brought to this hospital already—his steps coming to a halt at the sight of the Explosion Hero near your hospital bed. Katsuki looks up and narrows his eyes, aggravated by the offender’s question.

“What? You got a fucking problem with me being here?” He keeps his voice low, not wanting to disturb the entire hospital wing, knowingly admitting to how loud he could be. But that doesn’t suppress the bite in his tone.

“Just because you’re her fucking boyfriend doesn’t mean you’re the only one that’s allowed to worry about her,” he nearly spits, and Shouto’s face mirrors Katsuki’s own irked expression.

You have been unconscious for a week now. The cause of this incident was due to your encounter with a dangerous villain who had been wanted by the police for quite some time. Months of evading capture down the drain, the villain had unfortunately ran into you as you patrolled the streets during your nightly shift.

In the end, you won the fight, but at the cost of damage done to your body and overuse of your quirk. As a result, you entered an unconscious state, recovering in this hospital bed to be monitored by medical staff throughout each day. The doctors assured them that you would eventually wake up but will need time to heal on your own through rest.

Ever since the day you’ve been admitted here, Shouto has been visiting your bedside. However, this is the first time Katsuki’s shown up.

Shouto only points a glare to the blond, ignoring him while he sets his bouquet down next to your bed. He notices the already present vase of hydrangeas, surmising that Katsuki must have brought them. He places his bundle of peonies beside them.

The dual-haired man sits on the opposite side of the bed from Katsuki, whose attention is brought back to the girl’s sleeping face, patched with wraps and bandages as a result of your tribulations with the villains.

If I had finished my jobs quicker, I would’ve been able to see you the moment you had to stay in this damn hospital. The thoughts ring in Katsuki’s head, hands clenched into fists out of frustration.

Knowing you had to deal with that whack job of a villain on your own—that your overprotective and valiant nature wouldn’t allow you to let this criminal walk away when you encountered him, and that they weren’t there to prevent you from getting like this—killed both him and Shouto on the inside. They especially hated not knowing when you would wake up or if what the doctors said about you eventually regaining consciousness would even be true.

Shouto takes your hand in his, intertwining your fingers together. Katsuki catches him pressing delicate kisses against your lightly bruised knuckles from the corner of his eye, the young man not caring that he was performing these intimate acts in the presence of another man. Shouto especially did this in order to make a solid point:

She’s mine.

Katsuki knew very well how possessive Shouto could be while he was in their presence. And honestly, he couldn’t blame him. If he got to call you his and keep you all to himself, he’d make sure everyone knew they couldn’t have you—that your smile and attention were all his and his alone. But in this case, they weren’t, and all he could settle for were envious emotions and fantasies of what could’ve been.

•

•

•

Bakugou Katsuki’s feelings for you date back to as early as your high school years at U.A.

At first, he wasn’t entirely sure what made these feelings arise. Having his goal of becoming the Number One hero plastered at the forefront of his head made romance and love trivial concepts down his path. Katsuki had no time to be chasing after girls, going on dates, and devoting a chunk of his time to a partner.

However, at one point, things started to change. He felt ripples affect the still waters that were his life, and he noticed that only you could calm this torrent. You were the one person he sought comfort in, the one person that understood who he was and why he acted the way he did. And the one person who mended him physically and mentally without belittling his character or crushing his pride.

Through all of that, Katsuki had begun to appreciate and admire all the little things about you. Like your beaming smile and the twinkle in the lovely hues of your eyes that you’d give him as you two interacted. It was such a welcomed contrast to the fearful looks the other students would have etched on their faces whenever he so much as called out their name.

He always took note of how you adjusted his food to his preferences during times you were assigned to cook that night at the dorms. And how you’d go and try to tend to him after training, when his muscles ached and his bruises were settling into his skin.

At first, Katsuki thought of it as a sign of weakness—to accept help from someone else when at his most vulnerable state. Yet you were persistent.

He recalls a particular memory after a battle during his internship where he was reduced to resting in bed to recover. Not many of his classmates came up to check on him during that time. Mainly because they figured he wouldn’t bother to open his door for them anyway. Though one night, he heard a knock sounding from his door. He glanced up from his bed, already thinking about ignoring the visitor in favor of staying in bed to rest, but a voice spoke beyond the threshold.

“Katsuki? I hope you’re not asleep yet. It’s not much, but I made you a little something to help you get better.” He didn’t reply upon recognizing your voice, hesitating to see what you’d do if he didn’t respond.

There was a pause of silence until you eventually continued. “Well, I’ll leave this in front of your door for you to have… If not, I’ll come back and retrieve it, okay?” That was the last you said before Katsuki picked up a light clank near the bottom of the entrance. Afterward, feet padded lightly down the hallway till they returned to the elevator to descend to the bottom floors, and the blond was by himself once again.

He weighed the option of leaving whatever you left for him untouched, but knowing you made an effort to arrive at his door to check on him caused him to waver. Before he knew it, his feet treaded to the spot to discover a hot plate of curry at his doorstep, followed by a note and painkillers. The plate perched on one of his hands, he opened the letter with the other.

Get better soon! We’ll be waiting for you!

Closing the note, he tossed it on his desk before plopping down on the edge of his bed with the plate of curry in his lap. It steamed and dispersed heat on his sore thighs, piping hot and ready to eat.

He gripped his spoon between his fingers, an irregular grin surfacing his lips. He scooped up the spicy bits of curry, gobbling the dish down to its very last grain of rice until the plate was clean. And in that time, every bite he brought to his mouth made him think of you.

“Dumbass, there’s no way I’m falling behind.” Feeling thoroughly full, he transferred the finished plate to his desk, where he had left the note. Before he had even realized it, he reached out for the paper, glancing over the words one last time. He fished a pen from his drawer and scribed a reply of his own for when you would return for the dirty plate.

Thanks, dumbass. It was good.

•

•

•

The Icy-Hot Hero, Todoroki Shouto, loved you too much to let you go.

You were the girl that shaped him to become the person he is today—who taught him to embrace himself for who he was and not let his past define him and what he stood for. You were the person that brought him out from the dark hole he trapped himself in and cast him into warm light. You’ve stuck together through thick and thin throughout your journey to becoming Pro Heroes, protecting one another and watching each other’s backs. It wasn’t long before he noticed his feelings for you had developed into more complicated emotions. Emotions that made butterflies flutter in his stomach and his face unusually hot whenever he even glanced in your direction. As he began to actively seek you out for comfort and support, he thought of you differently in comparison to all of his other classmates.

Initially, these foreign feelings troubled him. Yet, he could never quite piece together why you could garner such flustered reactions.

Then after consoling these newfound sensations with his close friends and family, he realized that you meant so much more to him than just a classmate, an ally, a colleague. Todoroki Shouto was—is—in love with you.

And the feeling was mutual.

Whether it was the intense looks you two sent as your gazes naturally drifted to each other or how your hands would always brush across soft and calloused knuckles in a silent plea to lace your fingers together, it wasn’t long before he discovered that his feelings for you were reciprocated.

Interestingly, you and Shouto never had to confess anything to each other. Your feelings came almost naturally for you both like you were telepathically linked and on the same wavelength. You came to one another like magnets attracted to their opposite poles, and in just a blink, your lips had met one day, and you took each other’s first kiss.

From then on was the start of many more “firsts.”

Shouto remembers the first time he let you hang out in his dorm room, talking about simple things like school, studying, and internships.

He remembers your first date to a cafe his older sister recommended—the one with flavorful milk teas he knew you’d take a liking to, with bountiful flowers decorating the interior of the tea house.

He remembers inviting you into his home to meet his older siblings, have dinner with them, and letting his family get to know you as his significant other.

He remembers taking you to see his mother at the psychiatric ward his wretched father had admitted her to, finally letting the two most significant women in his life meet and watching as his mother took a relieved liking to the girl he loves.

He remembers the tension that hovered in the air over an argument you two had one day, which was eventually mended through communication and reaffirmations of love.

He remembers embracing you in his bed, devoid of nothing but yourselves in your purest forms, eliciting sweet sounds from your lips that intoxicated him with lust and drove him to desire more and more until he monopolized every crevice of your body—every ounce of your soul—and intended to burn your beautiful, sinful image into his memory.

He remembers so much of the little things and the significant things about your love that he could never, ever hand you over to anyone else. Less of all to Bakugou Katsuki.

•

•

•

Katsuki was one of the first people to notice that they were in a relationship.

At first, it wasn’t obvious. The two made a point to keep their romantic bond a secret among their classmates and teachers not to complicate things and be the subject of teasing. They also considered the fact they needed to focus on their studies and hero training. Kisses and other affectionate touches were done behind closed doors or whenever they knew no eyes could discover them. These sneaky tactics proved to be effective and not many questioned them about relationships, aside from the occasional girls/boys talk they’d do. They’d ask each other things like “who would you date” and “don’t you think ‘so-and-so’ is cute” and many other curious asks. Their answers to these inquiries were inconspicuous enough that most of their friends didn’t suspect much of anything. Except for Katsuki.

Katsuki was never one to pick apart details, not as much as his childhood rival, Deku, anyway. But the more he looked at them, the more he was aware of the particular hints and their subtleties of tenderness. Such as the way the red-and-white-haired boy would perk up at the sound of your name or the chime of your voice from across the dormitory’s common area. Or the way you two would hover around each other more often than you would your classmates as if maximizing the most of your time together in public. Or how you’d go on small study dates together and hold each other’s hand underneath the table in the library, thinking no one would notice.

Perhaps, the most significant indication, however, was the expressions on each of their faces.

Maybe Katsuki had started becoming very hyper-aware, unraveling your mannerisms and making out even the smallest of singularities, but he felt your faces alone were an obvious giveaway.

The looks you gave each other were ones harboring nothing but pure love and adoration. He could discern the glow you exuded simply basking one another’s presence. Those looks weren’t ones you would give to a close friend; they were something more. He would know. That look Shouto gives is the same one Katsuki has for you, after all.

Except, his is never reciprocated.

That pretty smile, the flustered expression across your cheeks, the sparkling hues of your eyes—all those little details were reserved for Shouto, not Katsuki.

It hurt to know that the gaze you give Katsuki wouldn’t ever be the same one you give to Shouto. Katsuki knows this, and yet he still can’t seem to get past you.

The moment he was aware of his feelings—reluctantly fathoming the fact that you were with Shouto—Katsuki did everything in his power to stop these feelings.

No, not just stop. He had to get rid of them. Cut any connection with them. Dealing with an aching heart was too much work and pain for a boy with heavy aspirations to bear. So he ignored you—erased you. He didn’t so much as spare you even a glance as if you were just another extra. Whenever you appeared, he made a move to leave, spouting excuses such as “I’m going to sleep,” or “I don’t have time to be around you losers,” the usual Bakugou Katsuki response to any form of unnecessary socializing. He had to act like you didn’t exist, put his mind on something else—anything else.

But darn that girl and her need to check on and care for other people.

Noticing something was wrong with the boy, you sought Katsuki out, cornering him. You asked him what was wrong, to which Katsuki gritted his teeth, unable to look at you in the eyes, knowing that those feelings would bubble up inside him again as they conjured troublesome butterflies in the pits of his stomach. Yet it was no use.

He couldn’t deny that he missed those times together—when you would patch up his wounds and bruises after training or when you’d let him try out your spicy ailments before half-and-half because you always knew he had a preference for spicy foods. He still had it bad for you.

And he continued to harbor those feelings even after you all graduated after your third year at U.A.

The heroes-in-training were ready to take on the real world as Pro Heroes and sidekicks. By then, you and Shouto had admitted to the class about your relationship. Some were surprised, while others, specifically the girls, expressed their rounds of “I knew it!” likely noticing the chemistry between the two long before. Katsuki had decided to play dumb and acted like this announcement meant completely nothing to him. Just useless news. That was what he told himself, anyway.

After that, Katsuki didn’t see much of the couple around. All of them were busy with work and trying to get their names out in the public to compete on the Billboard Hero Chart.

Which was good news for him. With his goal of becoming the Number One Hero still lodged into his head, the blond threw himself into his heroic duties. Often, he didn’t stop, persisting on job after job until the agency he was under forced him to take breaks whenever they deemed necessary for his health. In those times, Katsuki found himself slowly forgetting about you. But occasionally, he’d see glimpses of you again.

As expected of one of the graduates under Class A of U.A., you were definitely making a name for yourself and propelling in popularity. Whether he wanted to or not, Katsuki would see articles and advertisements glowing with your resplendent features plastered on headlines, covered by your hero name.

God, did you look as beautiful as always. Katsuki would think before jolting his mind back to reality, remembering that you weren’t his to ogle.

The last part was hard to bear, especially when his former class announced a reunion party at a restaurant Momo had reserved for them when everyone had hit the legal drinking age. Katsuki was definitely not keen on going. However, his friend Kirishima had convinced him to come along through relentless persistence.

Ultimately, he attended the reunion. He and Eijirou arrived together and appeared relatively earlier. Well, earlier than at least half the class anyway. Eventually, more of their former classmates trickled into the food establishment and greeted one another with boisterous cheers all around. Which, unfortunately for him, included the people Katsuki dreaded to see the most—you and Shouto.

Your hand was already laced with half-and-half’s when you two entered, resulting in some of their classmates teasing you about your public display of affection. Both didn’t mind though. Over the years, you’ve grown quite comfortable with hand-holding and even hugging in the open.

You know who did mind? A certain explosion hero, of course.

Save that shit for when I don’t have to fucking see it. He almost hissed out loud but bit his tongue at the last second.

To his luck, you had ended up sitting next to him, with Shouto at your left. Though you were sandwiched between two guys from your former class who were infatuated with you, Katsuki felt like he was more suffocated than you were.

The reunion that night went by relatively smoothly. You would chime in some small talk with Katsuki during certain intervals of time while everyone was holding their own conversations in the background. He did his best to keep his cool and not let himself act like a high schooler in love. To some degree, he thought his facade had worked as he played off his usual “Bakugou responses,” albeit with a lot less yelling and venom in comparison to how he spoke to everyone back in high school. Dare he say, he might have even softened up a bit. What he didn’t notice was Shouto glancing at him from the corner of his eye while in the middle of a conversation with Midoriya.

The night continued with rounds of alcohol poured across the table of twenty-one heroes. They made their cheers before helping themselves to their spirits. Conveniently, Shouto and Katsuki were very adept at holding their drinks. You? You weren’t as great. By the end of the night, you passed out from how drunk you were and had ended up laying your head on the table, head floaty and light.

By then, everyone else had left aside from maybe five or so people. Momo graciously helped the couple secure a cab home safely for the night, and Shouto had gotten up to help confirm some information. Katsuki was left to his own devices with you next to him.

His eyes couldn’t help but wander toward your form. You were so vulnerable in front of him, with your soft lips, splayed hair, and long eyelashes turned in his direction for him to see. Though a bit of that smell of alcohol lingered, he could still make out the flowery aroma you always gave off. You smelled of lavenders, daisies, roses—every fucking flower under the sun—with a hint of honey. Your scent intoxicated him. He started to wonder if this is how you smelled like at home, or if your scent became even more potent whenever you appeared fresh out of the shower and—

Katsuki hadn’t realized his hand had subconsciously gone up to brush a stray hair from your face until he managed to pull himself away from his thoughts. Thankfully, he retracted his hand back before committing himself to the act. But the gesture did not go unnoticed by the heterochromatic-eyed man who had appeared again to gather you in his arms.

Shouto had taken his coat and wrapped it around you before hooking his arms beneath you to cradle your body.

“Mm, Shouto…” you hummed against him, arms instinctively wrapping around his neck as you nuzzled further into him while on the verge of sleep. Katsuki’s heart throbbed hearing those half-dazed murmurs that left your lips, which hovered so close to that bastard’s neck. He wanted the privilege of holding you close and taking care of you at your most vulnerable.

“Come on, love, we’re going home,” he said fondly at your resting state. Katsuki didn’t catch the cold glare Shouto sent his way as he looked elsewhere to avoid the couple’s intimacy right in front of him. All he could hear after that was the engine of their cab rumbling in the distance, trailing back to their humble abode.

•

•

•

“...I know.” Shouto finally breaks the silence within the hospital room, eyes still trained on his beloved as he rubs his thumb across your knuckles to the base of your hand.

Katsuki looks up at his words incredulously. “The fuck is that suppose to mean.” He narrows his brows into a pressed glare.

“I know that you’re in love with her.”

Katsuki deadpanned, his eyes wavering at the man’s declaration. Should he deny it? Make it seem as if the icy-hot head was delusional? No. He knows that the signs must have been obvious coming from the one man in his way of vying for your attention, the man that would go to so many lengths for you that he’d travel to the moon and back in a heartbeat if it were in your name. Katsuki can’t pry himself out of this one.

He takes a glance at you. Was this really the place to be confronting him about this? In the presence of your unconscious state resting in this hospital bed between them?

“And what about it?” Katsuki counters his claims.

“I don’t plan on letting her go no matter what.” As if to make a point on his words, Shouto’s hold on your limp hand is firm, unmoving. He slowly shifts his gaze to the ash blond, crossing his look of anger. “So stop playing this game.”

When the words travel across the hollow hospital room and to Katsuki’s ears, his fists tighten in response. “Game? Game?!” He raises his voice, body shaking. “You think my feelings are some sort of joke to you?! That I’m only looking at her like this for fun?!” His eyes find Shouto’s blue and gray, red with ire. The young man in front of him is unfazed in the wake of his indignation.

“Let me tell you something fucking straight…” Katsuki starts, stepping forward, finger pointing fiercely in Shouto’s direction. “I won’t deny anything I feel for her at this point. I’m in love with her, alright?” he admits without hesitance and notices the subtle quirk of Icy-Hot’s brow. “And I’ll tell you that if she were mine, she wouldn’t have gotten in this position in the first place.”

Those words are what finally make Shouto’s unnatural composure crumble. He releases your hand to stand from his place and face the blond at eye level. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Crossing his arms, Katsuki scoffs at the question.

“You’d think I’d even let that villain get near her if this was gonna happen?” He gestures in the direction of your patched-up form, asleep and littered with bruises. “If she were looking at me, I would’ve already been on the scene to back her up. And just what were you doing, huh? Helping old ladies cross the street?” Katsuki is unfiltered as he hurls his insults, but three years of dealing with him as a classmate has made Shouto immune to his temperament.

“Let me get this through your head then. She was never looking at you. She was looking at me.”

Ouch. The blond would be lying if those words didn’t stir a pot of hurt inside him.

“And as both her partner and a fellow Pro Hero, I more than trusted her enough to finish the job on her own. Even if this isn’t a game to you, you’re already losing a battle you can’t hope to win.”

“Not sure why you’re the one calling the shots for her,” Katsuki quips. How ironic the girl they’re both fighting over lays comatose in this very bed between them.

The atmosphere is layered in dreadful silence afterward. The monitor next to you beeps in eery succession. It is the only thing heard in the hospital room that is wrapped in tension so taut it is bound to snap at any moment.

The knot of strife is undone by the door sliding open to reveal a nurse entering the uneasy state of the room.

“Mister Bakugou and Mister Todoroki, I’m sorry, but visiting hours at the hospital are closed for the evening,” she informs them as the two had yet to realize the sky veiled darkening orange with the setting of the sun. Eyeing the clipboard hugged to her chest, they knew it was about time for the hospital to assess your condition again.

The two make their leave, taking the time to thank the nurse before doing so, but the suffocating tension follows them even outside the hospital. They don’t speak a word afterwards, only sharing bristled looks and heavy steps until they’re forced to head off in their respective paths, not sparing any more kindness.

To Shouto, Katsuki would never understand the lengths he’d go for you because Katsuki could also never experience what the two of you went through together in the same way. All those years together, forging unforgettable memories of love and tenderness, could never be replicated.

But the blond isn’t bothered by those facts. It doesn’t unnerve him that he was unable to encounter all those firsts with you because in his mind, he’ll just create new memories—ones that you’ve never experienced and ones that will make him the last and only person you’ll ever want by your side. He’ll blow fucking Icy-Hot out of the atmosphere.

ending note: heyyy congrats if you’ve made it to the end. i think at the time i was writing this, i had an idea on how to progress the fic, but i decided to leave it on this. not particularly sure if i’m going to continue this, i may just leave it up to your interpretation. does katsuki steal the readers heart? does shouto protect his love from being severed in front of him? will the reader even wake up? find out on the next episode of dragon ball z

[sableseb]

Dirty Disco

Harry Styles x f!reader

word count: 1.7k

warnings: smut, rough & quick, choking, grinding, slight name calling, use of drugs, slight peer pressure

tags: @meetmeatyourworst​ @greeneyedblondie44​

a/n: This is a request that wanted a story based off the photo below! To the person who wanted this, I hope you love it as much as I loved writing it.x

The club is in full swing. Hot, sweaty bodies pressed against one another, music vibrating the dance floor, and couples occupying each darkened corner. You wouldn’t want to be anywhere else than right here. You craved a night out. And what better place to go than one of the most elite nightclubs in New York? 

You squeeze your way into the mass of people to join in on the sleazy dance floor behavior. You let the music take over your movements. Hips winding against a man’s, chest pressed against a woman’s and completely lost in the feeling of the erotic nature of being between two people in such a compromising way.

Suddenly, you couldn’t feel anyone against you. Until, two hands pull you in close from behind to rub himself to the beat against you. You had it in mind to turn around and tell this asshole he couldn’t just touch you as he pleased and maybe even smack him for good measure. But, all those thoughts left as soon as they entered when you meet a pair of eyes that are the prettiest shade of green you’ve seen, complemented by the mop of brown hair.

You find yourself wanting to be smacked by him. He chuckles at the way your mouth is slightly agape, obviously expecting to see an ugly weirdo with grimy hands. Instead, you got the most handsome weirdo with grimy hands. And that made all the difference. You get your mind straight and turn back around letting him guide you against him.

You grind against one another to the music shaking the walls. The smooth material of his pants feels good against your heated skin. He’s taking his time with you, moving your ass against his hard on he got when he first laid his eyes on you in that mini skirt and shirt that’s barely keeping your chest concealed. 

Grasping the hem of your skirt, you lift it up a bit and bend over to give him a glance of your perfectly plump ass straining against the black mesh. You gasp as his hands move from your hips to palm the firm flesh. You wanted to feel those rings everywhere. The cool metal excites you even more.

After letting him have his fun for a moment, you straighten back up to lace your fingers through his thick hair and pull him against your neck, backside still moving along with his front. You feel the hot puffs of air he’s emitting and it sends shivers down your spine, straight to your aching heat. His hands wander up your torso to rub and grab at your chest causing you to arch forward in his grasp.

“What’s a pretty little thing like you doing here?” 

His voice catches you off guard for a moment. His accent is thick, annunciations as slow as honey dripping from the comb. 

“Looking for an escape is all.” you reply next to his mouth, trying to catch a taste of him.

He spins you forward and leans in close to your ear, lips grazing the shell of yours as he says, “I can help with that if you're interested.”

If he didn’t catch your attention before, he surely has it now. He’s tall and lean, clad in a tight vest that showcases his firm chest with a cross resting upon it. Tattoos splattered all along his tan skin. This man is trouble. Lucky for you, trouble is exactly what you’re looking for.

“How can you help?” you question with a glint in your eyes.

He smirks and takes your hand to lead you away from the dance floor. The music is but a low vibration in the back room you find yourself in with a man who’s name you don’t know. You don’t want to know it, you’re not here for formalities and neither is he.

It’s dark with hues of red from the low lighting. The leather couch looks expensive...and so does the glass table with bags of illegal substances littered across it. Now you’re nervous. You’ve never done any sort of drug. But, the man pulling you along and whispering lowly in your ear, “It’ll be fun. I got you.” is very persuasive. Especially, when he looks so appealing. 

He places you next to him on the couch, the leather sticking uncomfortably to your heated thighs. You watch as those long fingers reach for a bag with little white squares in them. He digs one out and places it upon his tongue, he leans in to you, waiting for you to get the hint and take the tab from his mouth.

You’re hesitant, but that mouth is calling to you. You tangle your tongue with his, slowly kissing him in the process. He grabs the back of your head, deepening the kiss. His taste is addicting. Alcohol mixed with something sweet, you almost forgot you took the acid...almost. You pull away with worry etched in your features.

He takes notice and chuckles. “Such a good girl for me, you know that?” He takes another tab for himself and downs it. It’s always exciting to share this experience with another. It’s really exciting though, when his companion is a figure from a wet dream.

You can feel your body loosen and mind clear, your present and not all there at the same time. The man to your left closes in on you. His smell hits you harder than before, dark and musky with a hint of something floral. You pull him against you, leaning back so he can cage your body with his.

He looks at you thoroughly this time. The way your eyes have already dilated, the way your chest is begging to be released from that ridiculously tight shirt, and especially the way you lick your lips, almost like you’re tempting him to ruin you. And you were doing just that, tempting.

“How are you feeling?” he asks, genuinely curious. He would hate to have to rush you to the hospital.

You wrap your legs around his waist and pull him flush against you. He lets out a groan from the abrupt contact of your center against his front. Pulling his head down to meet yours, you whisper against his lips, “I’d feel better if you were inside me.”

He’s caught off guard for a moment, not expecting you to be that brazen. Drugs can work wonders on a person’s mind. Who is he to deny your request? He couldn’t even if he tried, not when you have him pressed so firmly against you and you start rocking against him.

The moan he lets past his lips is a sound that makes you wetter. The need for this stranger is so great that you don’t even care about the foreplay. You need him inside you now. He picks up on your urgency and makes quick work of his tailored pants. He releases himself from the confines of his underwear as you kick yours off your heeled feet.

He pushes the tight fabric of your skirt up past your hips. His eyes feast on how wet you are for him. Your arousal is already pooling against the leather of the couch. 

“Please.” you beg. “Just fuck me.” 

He pushes his dick against you, using your wetness to cover his shaft for an easy in. The sensation of him finally pushing in has you seeing colors. You aren’t sure if it’s the drugs or how good he fills you up. But whatever it is, you want more.

Seeing you whimper and writhe underneath him unlocks the primal urge to have you brain dead for his cock. He picks up his pace, your chest bouncing with each snap of his hips. He can’t stand not seeing your bare flesh moving freely, so he rips your shirt down the middle. 

You gasp at his roughness. Before you could let out a whiny, “Hey,” he latches onto your breast. Licking and biting while his hand preoccupies the other. Grabbing and pinching till you didn’t know what to focus on, him pounding into you with no abandon or the way his wet, hot mouth and calloused hands are working wonders on your sensitive nipples.

“So responsive.” he groans between the valley of your breasts. “What? Nobody ever fuck you this good?”

The blood rushes to your face. His words egging on your inevitable climax. You’re speechless as he keeps hitting that spot inside you that has your abdomen flexing and toes curling. The only sounds coming from you are the high pitched moans he’s pulling from you.

He doesn’t like how loud you’ve gotten. His hand flies up to your throat. The rings feel nice against your heated pulse. Until he starts squeezing. Your eyes go wide and your sounds seize, but your cunt latches down on him harder than before.

“My pretty girl likes being choked? That’s right. Take it you fucking slut.” he says through clenched teeth. 

And take it you do. His pelvis keeps kissing your bundle of nerves as you buck up towards him. His other hand that’s not restricting your breathing finds your clit, giving you even more pleasure than before. The warm feeling creeping up your neck, the way your ears ring, you know you’re cumming as your legs tremble around the man between them.

He let’s go of your throat in time for you to let a scream of pleasure escape. Your orgasm triggers his own and he’s fucking you deep into the couch to get as close as possible to you. He has to prop himself up on his hands so he doesn’t crush you as his high washes over him.

You both lay in silence for a few moments, just enjoying the euphoria from the sex and drugs. He pulls out of you and helps you into your panties. As you stand, you can feel his spent pool in the fabric. Making you horny all over again. 

“Round two at my place?” the words leave your mouth before you even process them. You just want this man in every position possible. A grin makes its way upon his features. He places his hand in yours to help you through the club and out into the cool night air.

[cynettic]

Kaeya x Reader ( midnight cuddles )

Summary - You get back late from work and commissions to Kaeya sleeping, you try not to wake him up. Little bit of a twist this time though, you’re drunk ;)

Pairings - Kaeya x Reader

Writing Style - Bullet points, mini oneshot fluff (at the end)

Warnings - Nonee

A/N - Cmon Kaeya, accept my marriage proposal dammit-

Midnight Cuddles

It wasn’t too uncommon to show up home later than your boyfriend, his cavalry duties carrying him through the day. If he showed up late, it was with alcohol in his hand and a tad too many drinks. A hiccuping mess, you were used to it despite chastising him every time anyway.

“I don’t want you stumbling around late at night!”

But it was a whole other matter on the eventful night that you showed up late from work, and to top it off, drunk. It wasn’t that you drank when he wasn’t around, it was always when the two of you were in the tavern, either you or him making sure to stay sober to take the other home.

Or on the nights when you both accidentally had too much, and Diluc had to take care of the problem.

But tonight had been rough, and you’d been lured by the sound of glass clattering against the counter, and the promise of bliss if only for a few hours. Of course you’d thought Kaeya was there as well, which is why you’d bothered to drink that much.

But now you were stumbling into your room, drunk.

And very bad at being quiet.

Kaeya wasn’t the deepest sleeper, so you’d often be able to get away with sneaking in and crawling back into bed when coming back from work late.

But your drunk dumbass couldn’t stay up straight.

So despite thinking you were as quiet as the sneakiest ninja in all of Teyvat, the clatter of objects being strewn around with every step told you otherwise. You hadn’t meant to wake him up, you really hadn’t, even with your hazed mind you knew that Kaeya needed his sleep.

Somehow even drunk, you detected when he woke up with a groan, slowly rising to sit up. Just as he did so, you ducked, trying to hide your form in the darkness of the closet.

Kaeya didn’t have nocturnal vision like Diluc or Zhongli, so he struggled to glance around the room. Of course, even half asleep he knew any threat wouldn’t make that much noise. So he’d automatically suspected it was you, or a very poor excuse of a thief.

“Y/n…?”

Curled in a ball, you didn’t make a sound as you softly breathed against your knees. Pity you decided to be quiet now, Kaeya was already awake.

Standing on both feet, the cavalry knight rubbed at his eyes, glancing around the room once more. Now at this point he could smell the reeking of alcohol, and with a deep sigh he’d already puzzled together half of what was going on.

Eventually he spotted you, and with slow quiet steps, he made his way towards your bunched up form. Kneeling down to reach your small for, against the closet door, he breathed your name again, this time more worried.

“Y/n?”

You didn’t move, only sniffled when his eyes met yours. To say you were an emotional moody drunk was an understatement, you could jump from angry to energetic. Crying to laughing, any emotion, just too much of it. Another reason why you stayed away from alcohol unless Kaeya promised to stay sober, or Diluc offered to keep you in check.

Today, you decided to be a crybaby.

Kaeya paused, a hand slowly making its way to hold your face, hand against your cheek. His hand was calloused, and you nuzzled your head against the familiar form of his hand.

With a sigh, he slowly tugged you closer to him with one hand, lifting you up effortlessly. You leaned your head against his chest, a hiccup escaping your lips as well as a sob.

“What’s wrong kitten…?”

You sniffled in response.

Kaeya simply held you in his arms as he came to the kitchen, holding you with one hand as the other reached to grab a glass from the cupboard. There were times where he could be impatient, but cradling your quivering form, he didn’t even consider pressuring you for an answer.

He filled the glass with water, still holding you with one hand.

This man is strong- 😳

Anyways, one hand carrying you, the other one held the glass of water, and he made his way to the couch. Plopping down, he set you sideways on his lap, so your head and knees could lean against his chest.

If you weren’t drunk, you definitely would’ve admired the window ;)

One hand had the cup of water to your lips while the other tangled itself in your hair. It was messy, and his fingers slowly soothed out the tangles, careful not to make the process painful.

You drink the water, and once again, he asks what’s wrong.

You sniffle, “Y-you woke up.” 🥺

How could he not- you were literally kicking around every little thing on the ground. Probably hit the bed while you were at it too, even a deep sleeper would’ve woken up.

But Kaeya just chuckles.

He probably would’ve teased you, but you were genuinely crying, and he didn’t want to make you anymore upset. Especially when you were drunk, you were so unpredictable.

Instead he presses a kiss to your forehead, another between your eyebrows, and a last one to the tip of your nose. He promises you he doesn’t mind, that he will always wake up for you, that he’ll always be there.

You cry even more.

When you persist on the subject, he kisses you silent. He kisses you so much you forget what you were trying to say, and with another sniffle, you start to giggle. His lips drag to your neck, and your giggles turn to full out laughs at the jittery sensation.

“K-Kaeya- that tickles!”

Content that he managed to drag you from your solomn state, he sets the empty glass of water on the table, picking you up once more. He never stops kissing you though, your giggles like music to his ears.

He doesn’t stop kissing you till you’re all dressed up to sleep, tucked under the covers and in his arms.

You tell him you love him, he kisses you on the lips one last time and tells you that he wants to hear it in the morning.

Arms around him, you nuzzle your head against his neck, slowly drifting to sleep. He presses one last kiss to your forehead, tangling his legs with yours as he falls asleep alongside you.

_-_-_-_-_

Everything was hazy.

Your mind was jumbled between thoughts, your boyfriend beside you being the main focus. You could feel his warmth etch on your cold skin, wanting to press closer against him.

You couldn’t press close enough.

So with these jumbled thoughts, you sipped out of the glass of water in his hand, trying to clear and sort out what ran through your mind. But an overwhelming sensation of shame and guilt adorned your subconscious, and all you could do was cry. He’d asked why, rubbed his hand against your face and soothingly tousled his fingers through your hair.

And he’d laughed.

You didn’t understand what was so funny, you felt so terrible. He’d been sleeping and you’d woken him up. Of course you’d tried to hide away after doing so, but either you were terrible at hiding, or he had super senses.

Or you were drunk.

Not that you’d ever admit that to yourself in this state.

“B-But-“ you tried again, a hiccup cutting your sentence short.

Kaeya pressed another kiss to your lips, so gentle you couldn’t help but soften into it. Gentle, but firm enough to get you to shut up. Honestly- why wouldn’t he just let you talk??

“D-dont kiss me while I’m talki-“ you began.

He kissed you again.

“Hey! Are y-you even listen-“ you started.

He pressed his lips against yours, stern.

“K-Kaeya…” you whined, pouting when he kissed you again.

Instead of talking, you only stared up at him with puppy dog eyes, frown growing when he only chuckled in response. The tears had stopped, and the only sensation that pumped through your veins was annoyance, the look on your face made it clear enough.

Yet his hands worked their way around your hair, and the soothing motion was instantaneous on your mood. He set the glass down on the table, the other hand brushing back a strand of hair from your face. Getting a good view of the frown on your face, he paused, thinking of a way to take away the tears for good and put a smile on your face.

So he pressed his lips against your neck.

They were icy cold, different from the warmth of when he had kissed you. If you were sober, you would’ve known that it was the work of his vision, set down on the couch. But still, you jolted from the contact, letting out a speak of surprise fill the room.

“Cold!”

“Cold- cold- colddddd-“

His lips drifted from the nook of your neck to your shoulders, and you tensed up at the jittery sensation. Feather like, you couldn’t help but let out a giggle, forgetting about the tears you had shed earlier. It was like he was tickling you, and you flailed your legs, ankles brushing against the fabric of the cushion.

You squirmed, not enough to get out of his lap, but just enough to match the rhythm of your sporadic laughing. You didn’t notice how Kaeya’s lips curved to a smile at the sound, fingertips now cold to the touch as if to drain away all malicious thoughts.

At last, when he stopped with his icy teasing, you let out a sigh of relief. Burying yourself in the warmth of his chest, he pressed one last kiss to your forehead, warm.

You shivered against the contrast of temperature, an equally warm smile on your lips as you looked up to meet his eyes.

He beamed back, mission accomplished.

[lonely-lost-soul]

Under the Floorboards Part XI:

(Technoblade x reader) First Part / Previous Part

Shimmering lights sparkled above you, your dress was a deep scarlet that billowed around your feet like a halo. The corset around your waist felt tight as you leaned backward spreading your arms wide like you were asking for a hug from the universe itself. The ballroom was vast and empty, only soft music could be heard behind you, soft violins, and harps. You took in the warm lights above you, your diamond wedding ring shone brilliantly off the candles as you began to hum. Blood covered your masquerade mask, neck, and hands, a bloody sword laid by your feet, long since falling out of your hands. Hands traced the curvature of your figure and soft lips landed on the juncture of where your neck met your shoulder blade. A smile came across your lips as you breathed lightly, “Billiam.” His hands traced soft circles on your hips, the butler watched from afar, his brown hair covering his glowing red eyes. Karl watched in mild terror as Sir. Billiam whispered something in his wife’s ear, your grin only served to widen till your cheeks hurt, you brought your hand up to cup his cheek. Your eyes met with Karl’s and he took a few steps back, he couldn’t believe that all this time it was the mild-mannered wife, in the ballroom with the sword who killed the party. Sir. Billiam kicked the sword up and caught it in his hands, you leaned against your lover's chest as he held the sword against your throat, red rubies trailed down your neck in droplets. The violins picked up in a loud roaring crescendo, “Praise be the egg,” you whispered as he sliced your neck wide open swallowing your mouth in a kiss.

“Praise be the egg, my dear.”

You woke up in a cold sweat, it clung to you like a second skin as you sat up. Your hands came to cover your neck where it had been cut in your dream...nightmare? You couldn’t quite place a name on it, Aether and Technoblade both stirred beside you. Technoblade sat up on his forearms and turned his head to face you, you were breathing heavily. He watched as you brought your wrist up to your line of sight, three tally marks were etched into the skin, your jaw dropped onto the floor.

Technoblade reached over Aether to snatch your wrist and get a good look at the marks, three cannon lives. You had three, he gaped at you

You were intertwined in the twisted workings of the Smp, DreamXD had smiled upon you and your household.

“Is it supposed to be itchy?” You asked while you carried Aether upstairs trying to ignore the buzzing underneath your skin, Technoblade frowned at his wife, a mixed feeling churning in his gut. On one hand, he was relieved you had more than just one life, but on another hand now that you’ve caught the eye of DreamXD...you’d never be free to live a peaceful life. “Cause it’s really itchy,” You whined while sitting Aether down on top of Steve so you could scratch at your wrist.

“I don’t remember. I think mine was,” Technoblade gently removed your nails from your skin. “Don’t scratch at it, all you’ll do is irritate the skin, I’ll grab some ointment.”

“Thanks, Tech,” You kissed the corner of his lips and he smiled weakly at you, for that was all he could do in his current state of turmoil. He opened up the first aid kit and came back over to your place in the kitchen. Aether was sitting on the countertop lightly nibbling on a muffin. Technoblade stood beside you as he picked up your hand, he pressed a feather-light kiss to your new lifeline before he gently rubbed the hydrocortisone on your irritated wrists.

“Better?”

“Much,” You sighed in relief gazing at the lines with mild interest. Technoblade wanted to draw you away from whatever you were thinking,

“I got a letter from BadBoyHalo.” Technoblade piped up grabbing a pot of coffee, “He wants to meet up with the both of us, I have a feeling it has something to do with the egg.”

“Egg?”

“You’ll see.” He groaned, “I have a feeling he’s going to show up sometime today. I’ll bring Steve as a backup just in case,” Technoblade sighed watching you glance over at Aether, eyebrows furrowing together. You looked back over at him,

“We can’t let him know about Aether.”

“He won’t.” You let out a breath of relief and kissed the top of Aether’s head, he smiled up at you and made a happy sound. “We’ll keep him safe under the floorboards if he can keep quiet he’ll be okay.” Technoblade ruffled the top of Aether’s head with his hand, “You’re a good kid right?” Aether nodded his head rapidly not wanting to let Technoblade down, “Thanks, kid.” Technoblade caught your fond smile and flushed a light pink, “what?”

“You’re attached.” You hummed wrapping your arms around his waist, he grumbled under his breath and pushed you off, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” He sighed as knocking sounded on your cabin door. “Go hide Aether, I’ll distract BadBoyHalo.” You nodded picking Aether up into your arms and kissing the top of his head, Technoblade opened the door an eyebrow cocked. “New outfit?”

BadBoyHalo smiled a wide smile at the blade, his new black and white robes billowed from behind him as he stepped into Technoblade’s abode. “Yes! You noticed, do you like it?” He chirped fondly stepping back a little as Steve bared his teeth. “Is that a polar bear?”

“He’s Steve. It’s (Y/n)’s and I’s emotional support polar bear, he’s a good boy. He’s very good at following commands, he’s a great attack bear.” Technoblade tossed a fish Steve’s way and he caught it in his mouth tearing it to shreds in a matter of moments. BadBoyHalo’s nose scrunched up in distaste,

“That’s...um nice.” He cleared his throat before clapping his hands together, “where is your lovely wife?” He tilted his head to the side smiling a tight-lipped smile.

“She’s finishing up getting dressed. She’ll be back here in a second, slept in,” Technoblade waved the demon man off. Steve’s nub of a tail began to wag as you climbed back up the ladder, “Here she is now.”

“Hello! I’m Bad it’s very nice to formally meet you, Mrs. Blade!” Bad grinned reaching out to shake your hand, you took with a smile.

“Pleasure, and (Y/n)’s just fine. I’m more than just Technoblade’s eye candy.” You winked teasingly at the tall man who looked shocked,

“I never meant to assume-”

“You’re fine.” You reassured, “I was only teasing it’s no problem.” You smiled warmly as Steve nudged your elbow, “Hi big guy!” You cooed kissing all over the bear’s fur, he rumbled deep in his chest. Bad looked shocked at the bear’s complete compliance to your affections, “So! Where are we off to today?” You hummed as Technoblade pulled you close to his side, eyeing Bad suspiciously.

“I just have someone I want to introduce you to is all.” Bad hummed fondly, “I want to see what you think of it, I think all of you will get along great.” He praised his close friend fondly, and you smiled,

“We’d love to meet them, we can bring Steve right?” You looked up at Technoblade innocently,

“I’m not sure if that’s-”

“Obviously.” Technoblade scoffed called Steve over to him, he walked over with a gruff huff as Technoblade placed a lead on him. “Okay, we’re all ready when you are,” Technoblade nodded as BadBoyHalo blinked in mild shock,

“Um...okay!” He cleared his throat, “follow me then I suppose!” He headed outside the home and as you all left Technoblade caught sight of Ranboo. The halfling was holding a grass block in his hands and Techno motioned for him to follow. As the group of you made your way into the hole that was once L’manburg, Bad talked and talked about how wondrous his friend was, and how excited they were to meet the both of them. The entire way there Technoblade would destroy these red vines while urging you not to touch them, you were confused but listened without argument.

Even though you listened without argument, you couldn’t help but be drawn to touch them, they seemed to be whispering to you softly, wanting you near. You pushed the thoughts to the side, trying to block out those whispers, however, it was much more difficult than you anticipated. Your mind drifted wondering if this is how Technoblade felt daily, you understood him a little bit better at that moment. The raspy voices called Sir. Billiam’s name, the name meant nothing to you but made your head pound and your heart hurt painfully. You jolted feeling a hand grasp your shoulder, you were met with the concerned face of Technoblade. Unbeknownst to you, you all arrived at Bad’s friend’s hideaway, “You alright?” Technoblade whispered into your ear,

“I...Yes.” You responded as Technoblade squeezed your shoulder once again, he wished he could’ve brought Steve in with him to comfort you. “I’m alright Tech, we shouldn’t keep Bad waiting.” You entered the red room with your husband following close behind you, your eyes widened in horror seeing the entire room coated in thick red vines. There in the far right corner sat a giant pulsating egg, the voices grew louder urging you to reach out and simply touch the vines.

“Don’t touch them,” Technoblade told you almost like he could read your thoughts, the demon scoffed at Technoblade’s protectiveness. Bad crossed his arms in front of his chest but didn’t argue. The Blade picked you up in his arms just to be extra safe and carried you over to the egg, before gently resting you on the solid cobblestone floor. Your stomach churned with anxiety as Bad smiled brightly motioning to the egg, introducing you and Technonlade to his so-called friend. You were barely paying attention to what BadBoyHalo was saying, a voice entered your mind, it poked at the sides of your brain, trying to find any available crevice to slip into.

‘Lady (Y/n) I haven’t seen you in decades.’ It purred in your mind stealing your breath away, ‘You’re just as beautiful as I remember you being, and still married to a descendent of Sir. Billiam I see. Not even death could keep the two of you apart.’

‘I don’t understand.’ You thought pupils shrinking, ‘Who’s Billiam? Who are you?’

‘I go by many names the one most familiar to me is The Egg. I can grant and honor your deepest desires, my dear, I see all. I know all. I can help you get what you want most in the entire world.’

‘Oh do you?’ You mentally scoffed, ‘Jokes on you I don’t even know my own desires.’

‘Don’t you wish for Tommy to come back to you? For everyone on the SMP to be at peace. For the children not to suffer, to raise Aether in a safe environment free from government and its posion? Have other children with your husband, raise them well?’ You felt your cheeks turn bright red at the thought,

‘How did you-’

‘I know all my child.’

“Princess?” Technoblade grumbled beside you, pulling you against his side, “Keep your focus on me alright.” His eyes narrowed at an innocent-looking Bad, “What are you trying to do to her?”

“Absolutely nothing.” Bad hummed drumming his fingers gently against the egg, “She’s talking to the egg! It’s offering her the world just like it’s going to do for you! It only wants to help.”

“We don’t need anything else, especially not from some overgrown chicken egg. We’re fine.” Technoblade snarled at the demon and the egg the voices were demanding blood and the egg’s promises were drowned out by the voices. He was getting a migraine as his patience ran thin, Bad looked a little nervous at the way Technoblade’s teeth grit against one another.

“Techno…” You whispered quietly leaning against his side, You tried to reassure him but the way the voices urged for blood didn’t sit well with him, especially now that Bad had caught sight of Ranboo as well. Technoblade didn’t want to be forced to choose between Ranboo or you, he’d avoid that scenario at all costs.

“Just stay by me and don’t touch the egg or anything.”

“But-” Technoblade shot you a stern look, worry flickering across his face, he didn’t like that but, not at all. “It’s not all bad…”

“WHAT!” All four of them shouted, wait four? When did Captain Puffy get here? The only one overjoyed was Bad as he clasped your hands within his own.

“I’m so excited to hear that!” He exclaimed pulling you away from Techno who bared his teeth at the demon. “Come closer, you just have to touch it!”

“Oh fuck that!” Puffy snapped shooting an arrow right in between you and Bad, distracting you just enough so that Technoblade could snatch you back in his arm. “Bad you can’t just use the egg to manipulate people to join your side! Especially not (Y/n)!”

“Language!” Bad scolded the pirate his eyes narrowing, “I’m- We’re-” He motioned to the egg, “Aren’t manipulating anyone! The egg showed her something she desired, something she needs, and that it can help her get!”

Technoblade’s brow furrowed as he looked at you, red seeping into the corners of your eyes. He couldn’t imagine what you might want enough that he couldn’t give to you. A selfish part of him was hurt that he couldn’t provide enough, couldn’t make you happy enough so that’d you’d listen to an omlette. Still, he wasn’t just going to hand you over, he gripped you tighter,

“Look just, just give me one more chance to convince both of you!” Bad gushed, “All of you, follow me. You too little spy.” Bad pointed a claw-like finger at Ranboo who shrunk in on himself. He stepped over the vines motioning for all of you to follow, reluctantly you all did so, Puffy put a hand on your shoulder while Technoblade hovered close.

“You alright girly?” Puffy whispered to you, the red was still swimming in the corners of your eyes. “You can get through this okay?”

“I’m alright Puffy. I just have a killer headache.” You spoke with a strained smile, “Everythings just all muddled, I keep seeing flashes of...someone who looks like me in a striking red gown. I just…” You groaned rubbing your eyes causing Technoblade to turn to look over at you, you sent him a weak smile back. He growled under his breath, not mad at you just mad at Bad, he knew that you were hearing voices. He knew how difficult that was from personal experience you just needed to hang on a little bit longer, then you both could sleep the day away with Steve and Aether. When Bad brought all of you to the other egg-like structure he wanted to run his sword through Bad’s chest, fuck not bringing Steve along.

Bad tried to argue against the bear coming into the meeting area, he simply vetoed that by simply ignoring the demon man’s protests. Ranboo was silently hovering around you, everyone seemed to be on high alert as their nerves increased. Even in your delirious state, your hand interlocked with Ranboo’s claws giving it a reassuring squeeze,

“It’ll be alright Ranboo,” You reassured as Bad smiled at the both of you, “Trust me. If anything goes wrong Techno will protect us.” From behind you Technoblade’s shoulders relaxed considerably, he knew he would protect you, for now, that was enough for him. Bad went on and on about the egg, sliding in a few casual threats about Ranboo and even (Y/n). Technoblade was desperately trying to keep it together, the voices roared for blood after all no one threatens (Y/n) and one of his only friends. He watched as Bad gripped both the shoulders of his wife and Ranboo, a sinister smile on his face.

“After all Techno, it would be a crying shame if something happened to Ranboo and (Y/n) wouldn’t it?”

Technoblade’s pupils turned into slits as steam exited his nose, he grit his teeth. “Don’t touch them,” He hissed viciously even Puffy who was beside The Blade pulled out her sword. Technoblade decided to follow her lead and just as Technoblade pulled out his sword, the floor below you and Ranboo gave out. You let out a startled yelp as you grabbed onto Ranboo, as you fell, you held him to your chest you wouldn’t let him get hurt. As your head make contact with the stone ground you were out like a light.

An elegant figure stepped out of the large master bedroom, her hair pulled back, her slippered feet padding against the hardwood floors. Moonlight shone in through the large windows illuminating your features, you stepped out onto the balcony where your husband stood. A glass of whiskey in his hand, he twirled it absentmindedly, his loose pajama pants sat low on his hips. Your arms wrapped around his waist and rested your chin on his shoulder, he tensed only briefly before relaxing in your arms.

“Beautiful night Billiam.” You responded casually pressing a kiss to the side of his neck,

“Can’t sleep my dear one?” He asked, voice rich much like the taste of honey, as Billiam reached up and brushed his thumb against his wife’s cheek.

“I could say the same thing to you,” You shot back with a sad smile as he clicked his tongue in dissatisfaction. “Are you at all worried about the masquerade tomorrow?” You asked softly as he turned around to face you, he grabbed your hands brushing his thumbs across your knuckles.

“Are you?” Billiam asked tenderly as you looked away in shame, “It’s alright if you are. You don’t do this often, but the egg is pleased that you want to take part.” Billiam’s eyes flashed a deep scarlet, but the love in his eyes was still the same.

“I know and I’m honored.” You exclaimed passionately, holding your hands to your heart, your own eyes were a deep red color. “I want to help the egg grow and thrive!” Billiam smiled fondly and kissed your lips softly,

“I know you do. So relax, the masquerade will go off without a hitch. All you need to do is follow the butler’s and my lead.” You nodded obediently a tired smile on your lips, “Let’s get you back to bed.”

“Come with me?”

“Of course,” Billiam gave an elegant bow, taking your hand within your own and pressing a gentlemanly kiss to your knuckles. You giggled sweetly before placing a hand on your lower back leading you back to the bedroom. The both of you slipped into the satin bedsheets and fell asleep side by side. As the morning rolled around, Ranbutler woke the both of you up and requested you both got ready earlier than expected. Billiam waved him off as the both of you getting ready for the masquerade ball he was throwing that evening. You slipped on your deep red dress, there was a slit up the leg and a low cut neckline. You had diamonds adorning your ears and a neck, your high heels were also littered in silver sparkles that almost made you the same height as your husband. A crow-like mask was chosen as your main accessory for the ball, “You look gorgeous.” Billiam spoke from behind you, his fingers trailing down the slope of your neck you smiled shyly, “almost ethereal.”

“Thank you, my love.” You turned to face him, you couldn’t deny he looked pretty dapper in a suit himself. “You clean up rather nicely too,” You giggled flattening out his lapel and pulling him close to press a kiss to his lips. He hummed against them before pulling away,

“I have to check on the preparations for tonight, wait for me?”

“Always.” Your husband walked out of the room whispering something to his loyal butler who nodded, Ranbutler looked over to you and you sent him a small smile. He gave you a little bow and you shushed him softly allowing him to rise to his feet. “Checking on the egg I presume?” You smiled as the butler gave a stern nod, both your eyes flashed a deep scarlet, a loud knock was heard on the front door of the mansion. “Someone’s early,” You pursed your lips heading out of the room, heels clicking against the floor, the butler following behind you. As you stood at the top of the steps, you saw your husband talking to what you assumed was an early guest to your masquerade. He was handsome, brown hair curling all over the place, odd goggles adorned the top of his head. Your husband immediately called him poor and you had to hide your laugh behind your hand. You stepped down the steps hand gently touching the golden railing,

“Billiam, my love, don’t be rude.” He turned to face you just as the guest’s eyes widened,

“(Y/n)?”

“Oh? Have we met?” You titled your head to the side with a fond smile,

“No. You just...you look like an old friend.” He cleared his throat holding out his hand, “My name is Karl.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” You took his hand as he pressed a soft kiss to your knuckles, Billiam let out a soft grumble of displeasure.

“He’s a youtube streamer.”

“No way!” You gasp in awe taking Karl’s hands, “That’s wonderful you have to tell us all about it!” You gushed fondly as Billiam placed a gentle hand on your back, his mouth moved in the shape of your name but you heard nothing in your ears. Your brow furrowed as you saw your name again, suddenly you felt like you were drowning, people shouting your name. Your eyes snapped open as you took a deep breath in, you were being pulled from the water. Hair stuck to your forehead as you coughed, water dripping down your head. You recognized a shape wrap you up in a tight hug, they were saying something but everything was muddled.

“Billiam?” You croaked out and the figure pulled away raising an eyebrow, they cupped your cheek tenderly,

“Heh? Who? Princess, it’s Techno.”

‘Techno? Who was Techno? Your husband!’ You sat up taking in a gulping breath, your eyes turning back to their normal (e/c) color and not the sudden scarlet. You looked around, Ranboo was shuffling in the corner holding a grass block, Puffy was beside him a gentle hand on his back. You looked around and you seemed to be in some sort of stark white church, a bell was in the corner and purple stained glass windows littered the walls.

“Where are we? What happened?”

Techno ran his fingers through your wet hair detangling it, “You were briefly corrupted by the egg. But Puffy knew how to snap you out of it.”

“You didn’t kill Bad did you?”

Technoblade grumbled under his breath, “I wanted to.”

“I wouldn’t let him.” Ranboo murmured, “You’d be upset.”

“I would’ve been,” You licked your lips nervously as you heard Technoblade grumble behind you.

“He would’ve deserved it,” You hit him lightly as he rested his chin on top of your head, “What? He would’ve, the Egg hurt you and that Egg is his best friend. Therefore you getting hurt is his fault so I will spill his blood.” Technoblade hissed, “And we’ll make an omelette out of that fucking egg.” He snarled looked up at Puffy who sent him a nod and a smile,

“I’m glad to know you’re on our side in this Techno,” Puffy smiled kneeling to sit beside you, “You too (Y/n).”

“Obviously.” You said swiftly, trying to cover up any hesitance that slipped into your tone, while the egg’s corruption was washed from your mind, his promises still held tight. “Sorry...I just have a killer migraine.”

“That’s completely normal, make sure she gets some bed rest,” Puffy told your husband handing him a little bottle of the holy water. “If she’s starting to slip, this will help,” She reassured and you smiled at her gratefully. “You’ll be back to normal in no time cutie,” Puffy beamed kissing the top of your head fondly.

“Thanks, Captian.” You praised and she hummed,

“Anything for you,” Puffy hummed standing back up to her feet, “I know first hand how scary the egg and its power can be. Living far away will help, try not to bring her back here for a while.”

“I won’t.” Technoblade nodded picking you up in his arms, you nuzzled against his neck and closed your eyes tightly. He squeezed you tightly, “don’t scare me like Jesus you’re a liability.”

“I’m sorry, trouble just seems to follow me around.” You spoke softly, sneaking a little peek at the lives on your wrist. You still had all three,

Good. You weren’t going to let some egg take one of them, not again.

The woman in red appeared once more in your mind and the man who looked suspiciously like your husband, beside her. He spun her around and dipped her, before pressing a passionate kiss to her lips. As they stood up they both disappeared into an array of golden sparkles, you opened your eyes and Technoblade was staring down at you. He looked concerned, his sharp red eyes peering into your soul. Technoblade led Ranboo and Steve back to your shared property, you were halfway asleep by the time all of you stepped into the gates.

“We need to talk about what happened.” He murmured to you as Ranboo and Steve hovered around nervously. “Alone preferably!” Technoblade cleared his throat, Ranboo jumped up smacking his head on the doorframe, and nodded,

"I'm glad you're okay (Y/n). Genuinely,"

He said smiling sadly before slipping out of the house. Steve huffed out a snort and made his way down to Aether, to entertain him while the adults talked. You rubbed your eyes and sat down on the couch by the fireplace, trying to warm yourself up. Technoblade slipped off his cape and wrapped it around your shoulders to keep you warm while you talked. “What did the egg promise you?”

You looked ashamed, ears turning pink, lying was something you and Technoblade never did. There was a mutual trust earned and respected and you weren’t going to betray that trust, “That it could end all the pain everyone’s been experiencing. That it could help the children finally be at peace and get the freedom they deserved, that we wouldn’t have to worry about people hunting us down. That we could raise Aether and be a family together without worry.” Your voice was soft, refusing to meet Technoblade’s eyes.

“Do you think I can’t protect you both? Is that really what you think?”

“That’s not fair Techno! That’s not what I mean!” You looked up at him and he didn’t look happy, “I just want everyone to be at peace here! Kids shouldn’t be suffering or put on pedestals! I know you’re perfectly capable of protecting us. What if we have more kids? Will Dream eventually get to them too?”

“I’d never let anyone touch them, you know that.” He hissed eyes narrowing, “You need an omlette to promise you protection? Don’t argue, because you slipped under its control, you did. So some part of you agreed.” Your mouth snapped shut at Technoblade’s words, your eyes narrowed and you refused to look at him. “Why am I incapable of keeping you safe?” His true feelings bubbled to the surface, you heard the slight crack in his voice. You looked back up at him, his hands were balled into fists, your furrowed brow unraveled. You reached out and took his fist in your hand, you gently rubbed the fist as it slowly relaxed in your hand. “I love you, and I’m failing you.”

“You’re not failing me,” You said softly “Not once have you failed me. You saved me from Dream, you saved me from the egg today, hell you saved me in general. I’m your wife and I’ll always love you.” He gave your hand a tight squeeze, “I just wish everyone would feel as protected as I do with you.” You admitted quietly, “even though Tommy betrayed us...He’s still a kid you know? I can’t help but feel guilty, I could’ve done better.”

“You couldn’t have. You’re not his mother.” Technoblade scoffed, “I’ll be the first to remind you about how stubborn he is, stubborn and loyal. If there’s anyone he’s always going to stick to it's Tubbo, even if we showed him kindness.” He watched you nod his head before he leaned forward to plant a kiss on your forehead. He watched your brow furrow as Steve lumbered back into the room holding Aether by the back of his overalls. You smiled over at the sight as Steve dumped your son in your lap, he made a happy squeal and buried his head in your chest.

“I missed you too Aether, did you have fun today?” He gave a happy nod reaching into his front pocket to pull out a little drawing. It was a stick figure drawing of you and Techno both holding his hands, on top of Aether’s head in the drawing was a scribbled on crown. They were both labeled something in Piglin, Technblade made an embarrassing sound as Aether squealed happily. “What? What does it say?”

“Mom and Dad,” He spoke weakly pinching the bridge of his nose and he watched your entire face light up.

“Yes! Exactly! Good job Aether!” You praised pressing kisses all over his face, “I’m your mom, and Techno’s your reluctant father!” Techno clicked his tongue in distaste at the situation, but he couldn’t lie looking at your happy expression, and Aether’s pure joy it melted his facade.

“Yeah, good job kid. Go hang it on the fridge,” Technoblade urged shooing him away and he ran into the kitchen excitedly.

“You didn’t deny it.~” You teased biting your lip fondly, “You Aether’s dad now?”

“That depends does that make you a MILF?” Technoblade questioned with such a casual deadpan it made you burst into hysterical laughter. You nodded your head rapidly as he pressed a fond kiss to your lips. “Remind me never to say that again, if I ever do please run the nearest sword through my body.”

“Will do, you absolute idiot.”

You turned to look over your shoulder at Aether who was sticking his drawing on the fridge eagerly. Technoblade took in your features, watching you look so calm even with your still-damp hair. He adored you, every single inch of you, from your wondrous brain to your beautiful body. He watched as you snuggle into his cape before turning back towards him,

“We have to protect him with our life. If anyone ever lays a hand on him they won’t live to see the next sunrise. I’ll make sure they burn and water the land with their blood.” You hummed fondly closing your eyes, that shouldn’t have turned Technoblade on as much as it did. He cleared his throat trying to calm himself and the voices down. They wanted to pin her into the couch and devour her, he cleared his throat once again, now was not the time nor place. Especially not with his supposed son in the next room, he swallowed thickly. He couldn’t believe that he was beginning to consider the zombie piglin in the other room his son. He couldn’t believe the voices were considering Aether his son. The urge to protect the child and keep that smile on your face was strong, and he couldn’t help but bend to its pull. That’s when a thought occurred to him, a smile spread across his features, there needed to be people willing to fight the tyranny you were concerned about, something to make sure anarchy always remained supreme.

They needed a syndicate.

A wide smile spread across his face as he kissed you passionately, you let out a small surprised sound.

“What was that about?”

“I have an idea.”

Sic semper tyrannis. ~~~

Tag List: @iamsuchasimp, @victory-is-here, @pastelmoonwitche, @ignat1usaquar1us, @boiled-onionrings, @Natalie-is-a-wall@alovestruck-fool, @mack4676

[sunrisefairy]

Summer secrets

Pairing: George Weasley x reader

Words count: 1.2k

Summary: The one where you and George are in a secret ‘relationship’ and you spend the summer at the burrow. 

Warning: some swearing, its a little steamy but nothing too smutty. FWB

Taglist: @hufflepuff5972​ @inglourious-imagines​ message me if you would like to be added!

Enjoy xx

Every summer since your second year at Hogwarts you’ve been invited by Ron to spend it at the Burrow. You and Ron met properly in potions and have been inseparable since becoming very good friends. The two of you would share everything with each other, well, almost everything. For a few months you’ve been hooking up with George, as in Ron’s older brother George. You didn’t think he’d react well to you telling him you’ve been shagging his older brother plus you and George liked the thrill of keeping your relationship a secret.

Whatever your relationship was at that point. It had only been a few months since you started having sex, but you’ve been playfully flirting for long before that. It started after one too many fire whiskey shots in the common room and you both came to the agreement to become friends with benefits. Although a tiny part of you wish you were more but you didn’t want to risk being without George, so you just pushed your feelings down.

So here you were at the Burrow with your best friend and his family and the guy you’ve been fucking hoping the summer isn’t awkward.

“C’mon Y/N! we’re going swimming in the lake.” Ron calls out to you as him and the others run out of the house towards the lake.

“I’ll be there in a minute, I just have to get change!” you yell but not sure if they heard.

A moment later and you’re walking back into the kitchen in your bikinis holding a towel when you bump into a hard chest.

“Well, don’t you look delicious” you look up and see a fiery redhead grinning down at you, your breath hitches in your throat.

You squeak out a quiet hi before his lips are on yours and his hands are grabbing and touch any piece of skin he can. “I’m sure the others won’t notice if we’re a little late,” George mumbles into your skin as he starts attacking your neck.

You let out a breathy moan as his hand slowly trace over your hips and play with the hem of your bikini bottoms. Just before his hand slips into your bikini, you hear the door click open and you hastily push him away and pick up the towel you had dropped.

“Are you guys coming or not?” it was Ron and thankfully he hadn’t seen anything.

“Yep,” you mumble rushing outside and towards the lake, avoiding Georges gaze.

The sun was beaming outside and all the kids were either relaxing by the lake or swimming. You found yourself lying next to Ginny with your eyes closed just enjoying the warm weather.

You slowly start to drift off to sleep when you feel a rush of cold water fall all over you, you open your eyes and shoot up to see a pair of laughing twins holding buckets.

“Oh, you boys are dead,” Ginny states who was also victim of the twin’s prank, she starts chasing after Fred “Y/N you get George!”

You glance at George who is standing a few metres from you grinning, “bet you can’t catch me babe.”

You roll your eyes and start running after him, he darts towards the lake thinking he could out swim you. Just as he enters the water you jump onto his back; George hooks his arms under your legs which are wrap around his waist and drags you further into the water. You’re laughing like crazy and so is George.

When he gets deeper into the lake, he loses his balance and the two of you go tumbling under. When you emerge, you’re face to face with George, his hair wet and clinging to his forehead, droplets of water on his face.

“Caught you” you whisper.

He is standing so close to you that you’re almost touching. You see his eyes glance down to your lips and you hold your breath leaning in slightly.

Your attention is snapped away when you hear yelling coming from the shore, Ginny and Fred are wrestling and it looks like Ginny is winning. You clear your throat and move away from George, swimming over to Ron who again seems oblivious to the fact you and George had almost kissed right in front of him.

~~~

It’s past midnight and you can’t seem to fall asleep; your eyes scan across the dark room and you let out a huff and sneak out of Ginny’s room heading down to the kitchen for some water.

As you’re leaning against the counter sipping on water you hear the floorboards creak behind you, turning to see George standing in the doorway.

“Can’t sleep?” he questions to which you nod.

He moves closer till he’s standing right in front of you and takes the glass of water from your hand and places it on the counter.

“Couldn’t stop staring at you today, y’know? You looked so gorgeous in that bikini, it was driving me crazy” George starts kissing your neck as you wrap your arms around him and sigh.

George sucks on the sweet spot on your neck and you let out a whine, “George.”

He grips your thighs and hoists you up onto the counter, you open your legs allowing him to stand in between them so he can get closer to you. “Been waiting for a minute alone with you baby.”

You pull his face to yours connecting your lips together, dragging your fingers down his toned chest when you are again interrupted.

“Agh! My eyes, my poor eyes!” Ron shrieks his hands covering his face. “What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing George? That’s my best friend. Why the hell are you making out with my best friend?” Ron starts to ramble, George steps closer to him trying to get him to quiet down before he wakes up the rest of the house. You jump off from the counter.

“Ron, buddy can you keep your voice down before you wake up everyone” George whispers.

Ron is looking between the two of you with an unreadable expression on his face. “I can’t believe you are fooling around with Y/N, she’s my best friend George!”

George sighs, his hand running through his hair “We’re not just fooling around Ron, I’m falling in love with her.”

You look just as shocked as Ron at George’s words. “You’re what?”

George turns to you, a look of worry etched into his face. “I’m sorry if I’ve just ruined everything Y/N. But I can’t help it. You’re insanely witty and sarcastic and so beautiful. I find myself smiling whenever someone mentions your name and I’m always looking at you when we’re in the same room. I know we said no feelings when we started this, but I want it to be more, I want us to be more.”

A smile tugs onto your lips at Georges sweet words, you didn’t think you’d get to hear them.

“I think I’m falling in love with you too George” you reply, smiling sweetly at the tall boy in front of you.

Ron fake gags behind you both, “okay this is still so gross, bloody hell can you just promise not to snog and be all lovey dovey in front of me?”

George grabs your hand and pulls you past Ron, “sure thing Ronniekins.”

George makes sure to squeeze your arse before pulling you up the stairs and you can hear Ron gagging from the kitchen, muttering about gross you two were being.

[eldritchtickles]

A Lesson in Love and Dunamancy

And here's one of those once in a moon fics I write! Inspired by an ask from a long long while ago that I cannot find anymore lmao. But enjoy some wizard tickles! And of course a big thank you to the Critickle Role discord for not only lotsa ideas, but also keeping me writing this with your own amazing work lmao. Enjoy!

Fandom: Critical Role

Characters: Essek Thelyss, Jester Lavorre, Caleb Widogast

Word Count: 2665

“And as you can see here..”

The dark skinned hand moved lightly across the thick paper, gentle fingers tracing the runic symbols etched into its form. Essek’s eyes were focused as he read through the ancient script, while Caleb’s followed the drow’s finger with intent. Both wizards were sat closer to each other than either seemed to realise, leaning deeply into one another. The room was cosy, hazy with incense with small candles floating lazily through the air. Calm, oriented, as a wizard’s study should be. “These dunamantic symbols are the basis for most spells”, the Shadowhand continued. “Any current spell relies on these calculations, and predictably any new ones would include them too.”

“Ah, ja, I see it now…”, Caleb muttered, leaning closer as a slight smirk played at the edges of his lips. “I also see you already suspect I intend to play with dunamancy’s limits myself, hm?”

Ah, he was caught. A soft smile came to Essek’s face as he nodded. He knew Caleb Widogast would not be one to leave such magic alone if he could create with it. The transmutation master kept true to his discipline, creating something of nothing at a moment’s notice. Including making a need for Essek to put him back in place.

His face leaned down closer to his human companion’s, a twinkle of slight playfulness in his eyes at Caleb’s snark.

“Yes, Herr Widogast, I imagine you’ll be creating many a spell based on the Krynn magic, hm?”

As Caleb went to retort just as smartly, the gentle cosy candlelit haze of the room was bathed in the harsher light of the hallway outside.

“Oh ­Caleeeeeeeb~!”

Both wizards were suddenly acutely aware of their close proximity to one another as Jester Lavorre loudly interrupted their study session. In a second Caleb found himself alone on the floor as Essek’s floating spell took effect and jettisoned him into a more regal standing position, even if his face was flushed an embarrassed lilac colour.

“OH!’, Jester exclaimed, a not so sorry grin on her face as she surveyed the suddenly awkward tension she had created. “I didn’t meanto interrupt you two cuddling-“

“Jester!!”, Caleb yelped, embarrassment lending his voice a strangled tone as he stumbled to his feet and brushed himself off and cast a glance to Essek. “You… You did not disturb anything. Was there something you needed from us this urgent?”

Jester was already in the room as the wizard spoke to her. She inspected the floating candles overhead, courtesy of the magic inside Caleb’s Tower, giving each a slight poke to watch it bob away free of gravity. She cast a teasing grin at the two flushed wizards, before diverting her attention to the dunamantic scroll on the floor as she spoke.

“Weeeeelllllll”, she began, nose scrunching up as she tried to understand the arcane glyphs. “Beau asked me to get you! She needs help compiling notes, and said ‘his stupid keen mind would kind of be helpful’. So I came to fetch you for her!”

“Ah scheisse, you’re absolutely right”, Caleb said with a small groan, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Essek, would you remain here? I promised Beau earlier I’d help her with her endeavour, I’ll finish quickly and be right back to continue.”

“Ah, quite, yes…”, Essek mumbled, glad to feel the blush on his cheeks calm down. “Take all the time you need, alright? I’ll prepare the next part of the lesson in the interim.”

No more words passed between the two, just a polite smile and a nod before Caleb parted to help his comrade. Soon as the door closed, Essek let out a slow breath. What had he been thinking? This was a professional relationship, student and mentor, and yet he had been practically sitting in Caleb’s lap as he had taught. Where was his usual maturity? Had he gone mad? Really, he had to get his act together before someone thought-

“Essek likes Caleb~!”

The Shadowhand froze up. The heat of his lilac blush returned, reaching his ears this time. Just over his shoulder was the grinning face of Jester, he knew it. He could practically fucking feel her waggling her eyebrows suggestively at him. Damn tieflings.

He rounded quickly on the woman, face not seeming able to decide between incredulous, embarrassed, or angry. Probably a mix of all three.

“Jester I- You can’t think that- That’s just not-“

A breath. Nerves calmed.

“…….. Ms. Lavorre, you cannot make such claims about two acolytes. It is in very bad taste, our relationship is strictly-“

“Oh come ooooon, Essek! Admit it, you like the stinky wizard!”, the tiefling said in a lilting voice, walking around to his front so she could stand on her tip toes till her nose met his, which made him make a funny face as he floated back a step. “I mean, no one will blame you. Caleb is charming, and sweet, and kind of dirty but that can be fixed, and he’s so clever, Essek! And he’s-“

“Jester, I do not-“

His voice caught in his throat, before a pout was brought to his face as the drow turned from the intruder on his lesson. He started to spread out another spell scroll, putting all his effort into making sure he was solely concentrating on this.

“I would prefer not to speak on this topic if you don’t mind Jester.”

If it were anyone else, they might have taken the hint. Essek’s exterior had turned icy and aloof, as it had been when they first met, and was usually enough to deter more questioning. But while her insight may not be as good as Caducueus, Jester had enough of it to see through the drow’s shit.

“You are such a liar!!”, she whined, accentuating her point with a poke to the back of his ribs.

It took Essek a few seconds to realise through his brooding that he had squeaked.

It took a few more to have him pinned on his back underneath the grinning tiefling.

“Jester, this is most- A-Ah, Jester!!”, the Shadowhand blustered, squirming slightly as a clawed hand gripped his ribs. He was not used to… Physical touch. Much less being pinned with his arms above his head, straddled by a strong blue trickster. His blush was back in full swing.

“Well, are you going to tell me Essek~?”, Jester asked, that familiar lilt in her voice that meant a plan was in motion. “Or, we could juuuuuuuuuust…”

She accentuated her point with a gentle waterfall of tickles cascading down the stretched out ribs beneath her. Those pointed nails cut through Essek’s shirt worse than any blade, a choking giggle trapped in his throat now he expected it this time. That didn’t mean it didn’t- No, if he admitted the word to himself he’d be doomed.

“M-Ms. Lavorre, I would kindly ask you-“

Shit, he almost laughed as she brushed the area right under his arm. Deep breaths.

“I would ask you let me gohoho!! Dohohon’t!!”

That was most definitely a whine.

“Wow Essek, I knew you were squishy but even Caleb can hold out longer”, the girl teased with a giggle, concentrating her free hand on the wizards lower tummy. It was the spot that had earned the giggle, and with a slight ruffle of his shirt that dark drow skin was exposed to the air and a tiefling’s evil fingers, fluttering along his waistline. “Aren’t you the most ticklish Shadowhand in the Dynasty~! Tiiiiiickle tickle, Essek!”

“I am… T-Thehehehe only Shadowhand and you knohohow this full wehehehell Jester- DOHOHOHON’T SAY THAHAHAHAT!!”

She snickered at the little squeak as he said her name, and the subsequent shout at such a little tease. The poor man’s face was flushed so much you’d think him drunk, the only thing worse would be- oh, she couldn’t-no, definitely could. Artagan would be sorely disappointed if she didn’t.

“Ok Essek, time to get real!”, Jester said with a serious face, nodding to the giggly elf beneath her as if in agreement on what she was about to do. “When you want to tell me how much you looooooooove Caleb, you let me know, ok Essek?”

“W-What? Jester, wait, what?”, Essek asked as he regained his breath, diaphragm working overtime to get back oxygen lost to giggles. His mind was already slightly addled, not even realising his arms had been let go. He quickly did take that into account, if only because they had shot down to grab Jester by the horns and try push her away as a scream ripped through his body.

“JEHEHEHEHESTER!! THAT IHIHIHIS- EEEEEEHEHEHEEE!! TERRIBLE STOP IT STOP IHIHIHIT!!”

Ignoring his pleas, Jester just giggled and shook her head in amusement before returning to nibbling gently at the soft stomach beneath her. The tiefling’s hands held Essek’s hips down as her thumbs gently massaged a ticklish touch into the dips in them. His back arched as the sharp little teeth scraped along his skin, and as Jester cast a look up at his face her eyes lit up like a Winter’s Crest tree.

“You’re crying?!”, Jester giggled, an incredulous look on her face. Essek’s head was tilted back in ticklish ecstasy, eyes screwed shut as streams of tears stained his bright lilac cheeks. Frankly, it was the most adorable sight Jester had ever seen! And she knew she was close to getting an answer from the deathly ticklish drow.

“P-Plehehehease, Jester, just not my stohohomach...”, Essek pleaded weakly, hand still tangled in the tickle monster’s hair and horns. “I’ll do anythihihing, just not there..”

“Anything, hm?”, Jester pondered, raising herself from his stomach to give him a break and smoothing his shirt back down. Even thatearned a squeak, she noted. “Liiiiiiiiike….. Admitting you have a teeny, tiny, itsy-bitsy crush on Caleb….?”

There was a solid five seconds of silence as Essek debated with mattered more; his sanity, or his pride.

Jester got her answer as his face turned back to a pout, turning away from her.

She shrugged. Time to try somewhere else.

“Hm, alrighty then Essek!”

In a second, after a slight tousle, Essek’s light form had been flipped so he now lay on his stomach with Jester laying on top of him, facing toward his-

“Jester, don’t you fucking-“

His face burned as she ignored his words, feeling his ankles gripped in a hold by Jester’s deceivingly strong arms. He had of course taken off his shoes on entry of the tower, as any good guest would. Now he was wishing he’d be a bit ruder in the Nein’s abode.

“Oh, I’m just making sure your feet aren’t dusty when your crush comes back! See? I’m helping~!”

Essek thought no such thing as he felt those fluttering fingers returning to his poor oversensitive skin. He felt the tears well up already, which was fucking embarrassing might he add. Speaking of embarrassing…

“A cootchie coo, little Shadowhand~! Don’t be embarrassed, maybe Caleb will find it cute when he finds out how unbearably ticklish you are! He’ll be all like ‘ja, zat is inchresting Essek, you look so cute ven you are laffing unt squirming, tickle tickle my dear’. Just like that! Wow, you reeeeeaaaally hate teases huh, Essek? Let’s test!”

“Lehehehet us nohohot, Jester-“

“I’m going to get youuuuu~! I’m going to tickle these poor, helpless feet!! Aw you’re going to giggle soooo much when I just….”

“Jester, no, Jehehehester- NAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! STOP THIS INSTAHAHAHANT- EEEEEEEHEHE!!”

As her claws scratched from his heel, across his sole, before nestling under his toes to make a wiggling, tickling home for themselves, Essek lost all resolve. He barely kicked anymore, body limp as silent laughter overtook him. Instead he lay shaking from the intensity of it, face sore from smiling so much more than normal, tears rolling hot down his face and falling dangerously close to meticulously written scrolls. All till…..

“I- Pffft nahahahaaaaa!! I LIHIHIHIHIKE HIM JESTER!!”

No sooner had the words left the wizard’s mouth did the devilish fingers below leave him. Essek sucked in deep breaths, grateful for fresh air in his tired lung. Finally, a break… Even if…

His eyes snapped open as his blush deepened. Had he really-

He looked back quickly at Jester, grinning broadly with twinkling eyes.

“Jester-“

“I have to, Essek-“

“You will not, Jester-“

“OH, CALEEEEEEEB-“

No sooner had Jester yelled for the wizard of the hour had she found herself under Essek instead, helped by some sort of gravity spell. His hand was clamped over her mouth to shut her up, a panicked expression on his face.

“Jester, you cannot mention this to anybody, do you understand- DID YOU JUST LICK MY HAND?!”

The look of delight as Jester giggled through the barrier of his hand gave him an answer. Despite his panic, Essek couldn’t help but break a smile. Jester Lavorre was genuinely the silliest girl he’d ever met. But still, he had to keep her quiet… And there was one way to keep her that way.

“Let me explain this in a way you can understand Ms. Lavorre…”

Jester was about to say something rude back, but instead a muffled squeal was all that escaped. Essek had a look of absolute seriousness on his face, not unlike the first time they’d met him, that made the cleric’s eyes widen. Then they snapped closed as his hand goosed her lower rib, extracting another squeal.

“You are not to mention this exchange to anyone, understood?”

His hand moved lower, fingers digging deep into the pocket of her hip. Jester cackled and snorted behind the man’s hand, unable to fight against the dunamantic magic that held her in place. It seemed wizard’s made amazing ticklers, with their dexterous, precise fingers.

“Nod your head if you understand, Jester…”

Essek was enjoying this. He had a grin on his face, one less evil and more proud. Jester was about to nod when the hand at her mouth joined its brethren, both choosing to squeeze at the point where hips met thighs. The laughter that spilled from Jester’s mouth was hysterical, giving her the boost needed to break the spell’s hold on her as her hands weakly tried to pry Essek’s off of her, legs pedalling in the air with how much the Shadowhand’s fingers tickled.

“Ah… Essek? Jester?”

Both parties stopped dead. Neither had even heard the door open, but as they looked they found Caleb standing in the entryway. His face was noticeably flushed at the sight he had encountered, not able to look directly at them. Though Jester and Essek didn’t look at each other, both knew what the other was thinking; adorable.

“I-I apologise, Beauregard had asked the Tower be soundproofed tonight so I did not hear from outside… Should I….?”

“No!! Gods, Light no!!”, Essek yelped, scrambling to his feet and casting a half-hearted glare to Jester, who stuck her tongue out back. “Jester was just leaving, aren’t I right Ms. Lavorre?”

“Oh, of course, Mr. Thelyss~!”, the woman giggled, speeding from the room with a wink to the wizards.

“……… So that was-“

“Advanced interrogation techniques, we shall call them.”, Essek said quickly, trying to keep away the blush once more. Caleb couldn’t help a small smile crossing his face at that, taking a seat beside the spell scroll once more.

“Ah, a different sort of lesson for our cleric, I suppose…”, he said with a small chuckle, patting the spot beside him. “Let us stick to dunamancy for tonight, hm?”

Essek took a few seconds to smooth out his robes and compose himself. Seeing Caleb act so… Normally about all this. It was oddly comforting, to know he didn’t mind. Even stranger, Essek thought as he took his seat, was one observation.

That wasn’t so bad.

“Perhaps a lesson for another day, Mr. Widogast?”

He caught the way Caleb flushed and concentrated on the scroll, along with the small embarrassed smile that returned.

“Heh. Another day, yes.”

[mae-gi-writes]

Obtuse | Bang Chan (Stray Kids) - PART ONE

Summary ☆ "I don't know. I want to be his friend but then again, I don't. I mean, how can you simply be friends with someone when every time you look at them, you're thinking about how much more you really want?"

Genre ☆ bestfriends to lovers au, angst, slowburn, suggestive themes, college au, fluff, soft Chan x oc (Micha)

Word count ☆ 6k ish

. ° ☆ ° .

PART ONE

. ° ☆ ° .

Micha hated being wrong.

Her fingers tapped an unsteady rhythm over her notebook as she stared at the block of text she had been supposedly studying for the past hour, her desk lamp casting a yellowish hue over her page as if the book itself was a sickly entity with the sole goal of rendering her mad. Attached to her ceiling, her fan kept on whirring in a noisy hum which -- while she normally managed to tune it out --  grated at her nerves. The world bustled outside, cars honking in the distance while soft rain splattered over her bedroom window as she sighed for what must’ve been the nth time that evening, slowly lifting her arms up in a stretch. 

It wasn’t in her nature to be so scatter-brained, for once she set her mind to something, there could be little to stop her. That was one of the qualities she could pride herself on considering that there was hardly any skill she could flaunt to the world -- surely there were far more interesting things than reciting off a long list of human body parts and their required functions? 

But this recent issue popping up in her brain was doing a great job at knocking her off her feet. Dear god, she felt the same sense of unbalance as when she was five and her mom had enrolled her into ballerina lessons. 

Long story short, it hadn’t ended well.

Micha’s eyes darted to her phone that she’d tossed onto her bed a few minutes ago. The cause of her restlessness, the cause of unease stirring inside her stomach like an angry beast prowling back and forth.

The words from his earlier message felt like they were etched into her memory: 

Chan: SHE SAID YES

Just three words. Three little stings that made her wince every time she thought of them. Three little needles that pierced at her heartstrings.

Why? 

Her grip tightened onto her pen. So hard her knuckles turned the colour of chalk.

Why didn’t she feel happy for him as she was supposed to? 

Micha’s tongue poked at her cheek. 

Why did it feel so wrong? Why did she feel wronged when she’d done nothing of the sort? 

Wasn't it just a few weeks ago that she had spurred Chan's obvious interest, urging him to hustle a little closer to that particular girl in question when she had caught the said young man casting her quick, shy glances over the rim of his drink?

"Just ask her," Micha told him when he'd sought her out looking like a lost puppy amidst the heavy bass of the music. It had been the summer right before their final year of University and on this special occasion, Minho had thrown a small party to which every high school classmate of their year had been invited.

"You know I can't. I don't know how...you know," he scratched the back of his head, dark locks ruffling as the summer wind. It was in those small, stolen moments -- where Chan was the most vulnerable, where he let down his guard to deploy his array of unspoken feelings -- that she remembered the young man for who he was: the familiar fullness of his full lips, the curve of his nose, the simplicity of his monolids.

"You won't know till you try," she took a sip of her rum and coke.

Truthfully speaking, Chan had never been in a serious relationship. He was friends with everyone, the kind of person that was easy-going and who could engage in any kind of conversation with anyone and everyone. The only consequence was that Chan was thrust into the friendzone without even trying.

But then again, he was a nice guy. And nice guys finished last.

“What’s the worst that can happen anyway?” Micha joked as she downed the rest of her drink, “she’s been eyeing you since we got here.” 

“Really?” 

“Really.” 

He leaned closer with squinted eyes as he tried to find the lie in her words, “you’re not just saying that to be nice?”

He was so close she got a whiff of his scent. Reaching up with her index finger to push him away, Micha proceeded to roll her eyes, “I don’t do nice, Chan. We both know that.” 

She shouldn’t have been surprised to see him slip away a few minutes later to seek her out. Ayeong was her name. Beauty, in Korean. And which suited her perfectly, what with her tiny waist and her big set of doe eyes that could make any man weak at the knees, her supple legs that seemed to go on and on forever and that cupid bow’s mouth that was always puckered in that innocently cute, yet sensual way of hers.

And if not for her physique, Ayeong was known for her kindness and for her outgoing, free-natured and confident spirit. That was the killer blow for any man that sought her out. 

Micha had known her since high school, hung out with the same friends and admittedly could classify her as one too, even though college life had pulled them apart like boats that had left the harbour only to find each other after a year.

Memories of Micha’s last night flickered behind her open lids and leaning back into her chair with a sigh, she gave way to the sudden urge of homesickness suddenly flowing through her heart. 

Their last movie night had ended and despite Micha’s frantic eye movements towards Ayeong’s figure, Chan had immediately volunteered to walk her back home. 

Micha kept her gaze forward, noticing how the golden glow of the street lamps did little to light their way. She turned her head to the right, where the road gave way to the landscape littered with golden lights, now bathed in deep hues of blue as light slowly slithered from behind the mountains. 

“So this is it huh?” Chan’s murmur sliced through with a hint of sadness in his deep alto, “you sure you’re not going to come back home for Christmas?” 

It was tradition after all. They had made it adamant to travel back at least every three months and up until now, they had kept that promise. 

Now though, with Micha’s piling workload and with Chan’s busy thesis schedule, this year might be the one exception.

“I can’t, Chan. I have my internship,” Micha didn’t dare look at him, fighting the tightness winding in her chest, “you can always drop by. My university is just a train ride away I suppose.”

"You’re not gonna kick me out if I turn up at your door one day?” 

“I can’t promise that.” 

He gasped, grabbing onto his chest in mock hurt, “Ouch. Okay, what if I turn up with your favourite bubble tea?” 

"Then we might have a deal.” 

They both laughed softly, pushing each other with their elbows as they walked up Micha’s street. At one point, Chan had looped his arm around hers before shoving his hands into his hoodie pockets and as they talked about their recent adventures and all the dumb things they’d done, it was clear that he was avoiding the pain of saying goodbye right until he stopped at her front door.

She turned to him and forced down the tears burning at the edges of her eyes. The morning light had slithered through the landscape now and hit the side of Chan’s face in a scarlet shade of golden, reflecting the caramel of his orbs pinning her down with a sadness that made her throat choke up.

“Stop it,” the words flew from her mouth without warning and Chan blinked, head tilting with confusion, “What? Stop what?” 

“Stop...looking at me like that,” she finished her sentence in a mumble while she averted her eyes in growing embarrassment.

“Like what?” 

“Like you’re going to cry.” 

“I’m not!” 

“There are tears in your eyes!” 

“N-No there aren’t!” And he quickly wiped at his face before angling his head to the side, “why would I cry for you?” 

“You tell me.” 

“Well I’m not!” He turned away to walk down the driveway in a huff, “bye now!” 

“Ugh bye loser!” 

Micha turned so quickly she almost smacked her face onto her front door, hurriedly trying to erase the image of Chan’s back walking away from her before she broke down into a pool of hot tears.

She didn't want to think about that. Didn't want to linger upon the way her throat seemed to choke up as she fought the emotion--

"Micha?” 

Chan’s voice. It floated between them, a lingering question. The said girl felt rooted in place, fighting the tears gathering at the corners of her eyes. 

And when she turned, she was met with his arms lacing around her middle to pull her close. 

His chin on her shoulder, head pressed against hers. Holding her tight. 

“Video calls every week,” he murmured, “at least one text per day.” 

"What are you? My boyfriend?” 

“Micha.” 

“Fine, fine.” 

Chan's warmth felt like sunshine on her back. If she closed her eyes hard enough she could travel back to that very moment she allowed herself to be swayed back and forth in those strong arms of his.

In the weeks following the start of their final year Micha had plunged headfirst into her studies to avoid the slow build-up of homesickness crawling through her heart. And the more work piled up, the less she found time to update Chan on her life. What with her endless hours spent in the library and the small bursts of freedom that she spent with her course mates, it made it close to impossible to sit down and have a proper talk.

So when Chan video-called her one day, her burst of excitement was soon rendered to something akin to annoyance when the only reason was to tell her about Ayeong’s visit to his campus. She couldn’t ignore the slight sting of jealousy coating the back of her tongue as he blabbered off like an excited child, eyes shining and all. 

“I think I might ask her out at the end of this week,” he grinned with dreamy eyes, “I think there’s definitely something.” 

“Good for you.” 

He’d noticed her irritation, as if there was an itch under her skin she couldn’t quite reach, “You okay, Mi? I didn’t even get to ask--”

“I’m fine,” she snapped and softened almost instantly when hurt flashed through his face, “I’m sorry,...just stressed out.” 

“Hey,” concern immediately clouded his features over, “you gotta take care of yourself too. Are you eating well? Sleeping well?” 

A sigh of frustration escaped his lips when she’d shook her head reluctantly, “Don’t make me come over. You know I can do that.” 

“That would be nice,” came her mumble which didn’t reach his ears, for he asked, “What?” 

“Nothing,” she sighed, brushing off the wistful thoughts swimming inside her head and focusing back on Chan’s face at the other end of the screen, “keep me updated with the Ayeong thing.” 

She’s not right for you, her brain seemed to scream. 

But Ayeong did. She did say yes.

And Micha wasn’t sure why she was feeling so bitter about it.

. ° ☆ ° .

"Please sign here, miss.” 

Micha’s surprised orbs quickly flitted up from the large cardboard box to the postman’s clipboard being shoved in her face, “Uh--sure.”

She scrawled her initials, gave back the clipboard with a muttered ‘thanks’ before the postman shoved the box in her arms and walked away without even giving her a second glance. 

Had she ordered something online by accident? That wouldn’t be surprising. Since midterm season, time had been irrelevant to Micha, flowing like a ticking time bomb the more the days approached towards her final deadlines.

To say that she was a walking corpse on campus was not an understatement. 

She got her answer a few minutes later when she answered the phone from a very excited, puppy-like Chan. 

“Did you get it?!” he bellowed with barely contained excitement. Still wrapped up in his blankets with his hair dishevelled and his eyes barely open, Micha couldn’t help but grin at the comical picture he presented, “did you get the package?” 

“By package, you mean this big-ass box?” Micha turned the camera to the floor, causing him to squeal like a child who got his Christmas presents early. 

“Oh nice! Open it, come on!” 

“Chan, I swear if it’s something like one of those scary muppets you like so much--”

“You have so little faith in me.” 

“Can you blame me when you were the one who put salt in my coffee?” 

“It was just to experiment.” 

“That coffee was of good quality!” 

“Just open it." 

She tore open the package while grumbling under her breath at how bossy he was being, cracked open the box to blink at the different flavours of tea filling it up to the brim. 

“You--” she couldn’t help the laughter from bubbling up her throat, “you got me tea?” 

“Wait--unless I got this wrong -- you like tea right?” 

His panicked tone made her burst out in even more laughter, “Oh my god Chan!” 

“You always tell me to spill the tea--I was just trying to be punny.” 

“It’s--Oh my god--” she doubled over laughing and Chan joined in with giggles of his own, “Chan, you’re so bad.” 

“Admit it, it’s funny.”

“It’s lame!” 

She grinned back at her phone as warmth spread through her middle. It was admittedly in moments like these that she missed Chan the most. The longing to see him suddenly surged through her with such ferocity in the form of tears slowly brimming at the corner of her eyes and she had to turn away while changing the subject. 

“Got any plans this weekend?” she asked while looking over the various flavours of tea.

“Oh didn’t I tell you? Ayeong’s coming.” 

She almost choked on her own spit. Right. She’d forgotten about the whole Ayeon situation and Chan hadn’t updated her since then. 

"We’re spending the weekend together, I think I might bring her to the aquarium. Oh, I was gonna ask you -- what do girls like on their first dates?” his face was now alight with such a joyful glow, a spark in his eyes, that it almost hurt to look at him. 

“Does Ayeong like aquariums to start with?” Micha asked even if she secretly adored going to aquariums herself. It was admittedly a very romantic notion, to hold hands in the darkened rooms as you would watch the fish swim about. 

Chan shrugged on the other side of the screen, “dunno, thought it might be romantic.” 

You thought right, Micha’s subconscious responded, “what about just dinner?” she proposed, “maybe Ayeong wants to spend time talking. You know, getting to know each other.” 

"Hm, true. Yeah, I might look up a good restaurant. Girls don't like fast foods do they? Or anything that makes them gain weight?"

The angry creature was slowly rousing in her stomach, growling, "how would I know?"

"Well, you're a girl."

"That's exactly what the lame redheaded sidekick in Harry Potter said."

"FYI, his name is Ron and he’s not lame."

"That's not the point I was trying to make."

"Michaaaa~" Chan whined, wriggling his shoulders with a pout, "I gave you tea, stop being mean to me."

But it was useless. All the giddiness that had erupted through her at his sweet gesture was eaten up by a bitter taste on her tongue and with that she hurriedly made up a petty excuse about having class before quickly cutting off the call.

She brought her phone to her chest as she looked down at the tea boxes with growing tiredness. That was probably it right? She was in a bad mood because she was tired.

Right?

. ° ☆ ° .

"I still don't get why we have to watch it with you," Micha grumbled, plopping down beside Felix's lanky frame on the couch and careful not to jostle the bowl of salted caramel popcorn in her hands.

"Because I can't be the only one who can't sleep tonight," Changbin stated dryly like that statement totally made sense. He plopped down on her other side while Jisung settled himself against Micha's legs, "if I go down, you go down with me."

Felix snorted, "that's just a nice way to say that he likes bullying us."

Midterms were over, meaning that reading week would be a pleasurable moment of calm and serenity before assignments picked up again. It was a liminal space between deadlines, a gap that Micha and the rest of her course mates had gladly welcomed with open arms. Being the movie fanatic that he was, Changbin had jumped at the chance of hosting movie night, much to the group's displeasure for they knew that his taste in entertainment was rather jarring. Sometimes violent. And sometimes, brought about nightmares that lasted a week.

"What are we watching again?" Jisung twisted his head to look at the trio, causing both Micha and Felix to shoot Changbin accusatory looks.

"The nun," Changbin replied.

Felix whistled as Jisung jumped up crying, "Do you want me to die?!"

"No. But do you mind if we sleep in the same room tonight?"

"Fuck you I'm out of here," Jisung was already scrambling to his feet when Micha's hand shot out, clamping down on his forearm, "oh no no no, you're going down with the rest of us, Han."

"Do you know how scary that movie is?!"

"Yes, which is precisely why we're going to murder Changbin once it's ov--"

Felix's phone sprang to life amidst the conversation, "oh Chan's calling!"

The group wasted no time squishing up, limbs entangling and elbows pushing onto ribs as they all crowded around Felix's small smartphone that he held at arm's distance before sliding his finger over the green button.

"Hey mate!" Felix's Australian accent slipped out the moment Chan's face appeared onscreen and Micha would've lied to say it didn't sting a little seeing her best friend's face after so long.

"What's up Felix? Oh you're all here?" Chan's grin widened.

" Changbin's forcing us to watch the Nun with him," Micha said.

" Tattletale," muttered the said hooded-eyed man as he shoved her head. Micha laughed.

" And you? What are you up to?" Felix asked while Jisung was struggling to push Changbin's arm to get into the camera frame, " Bin, fucking move."

"Language."

" Oh I'm with Ayeong right now. Hyunjin and Minho are playing FIFA," Chan moved the camera around until Ayeong's petite face came into view, causing a knot to form in Micha's abdomen.

"Hello!"

" Ayeong! Lookin' good!"

" How's Channie treating you?"

" Has he farted in front of you yet?"

" Guys!" Chan's checks proceeded to flood with colour while the said young woman giggled in the background.

" As a matter of fact, he's been nothing but respectful."

Ugh. She was so sweet that it made Micha feel sick in her stomach. But as though Ayeong had read her mind, she immediately asked, "Micha, are the guys treating you well? How's your thesis coming along? Chan tells me you practically live in the library."

" What?” Jisung snorted, “that's not true, she--" 

Micha elbowed him before he could splutter out the truth when she had been lying to Chan all along and blabbered out, “Yeah I've been trying to finish my thesis in time because the first deadline is in two weeks. And you? How’s your internship at the hotel going?” 

Micha was thankful when Ayeong chatted on about her experience as a hotel management trainee at one of the best hotel chains in the country. It was a close call and she smacked Jisung some more for good measure, throwing him a narrow-eyed glare which he returned with a scowl of his own, rubbing the sore spot on his arm. 

As the conversation moved on to the topic of the holidays, Micha’s eyes automatically drifted to the diminished space between Chan and Ayeong’s shoulders, noticed the way he kept leaning back with his arm slowly crawling its way to Ayeong’s backside. Something tugged at her heartstrings, caused her to swallow hard. It was clear from the obvious grin on her best friend’s face that he was the happiest he’d ever been since...well, since.

All Micha wanted was to be happy for Chan. Genuinely happy. 

Not the kind of happiness that made her wish she was miles away and blind, not the kind that made her chest ache and her heart hurt as though someone had just gutted her insides out.

At some point, she excused herself and walked out into the backyard, hands shoved in the pockets of her hoodie as she looked up into the murky, cloudy sky above. How long had it been since they’d last spoken? There was no one to blame for that. They were both sprinting at a hundred miles an hour and she couldn’t blame Chan for falling so hard, so quickly, too quickly for a girl that was so easy, so loveable. Ayeong was the perfect match for him, now that Micha thought about it. 

And plus, Chan had been talking about her for ages.

But she still didn’t get it. Still didn’t understand why it constantly felt as though someone was slapping reality in her face. 

Over and over again.

“Micha!” 

Felix’s head popping out from the kitchen doorway made the said young woman swivel around, quickly rearranging her features in a cold mask of indifference, “Chan wants to talk to you.” 

“Why?” 

Even in the dark she saw Felix’s eyebrow quirk up, “you’re asking?” 

That was stupid, Micha’s subconscious rolled her eyes as she reluctantly trudged to the kitchen door and grabbed the phone from Felix’s hold. She waited for the door to close behind her before lifting the camera to her face.

“What?” 

Chan’s arms were crossed in an attempt to appear mad, though they both knew it would take a lot more to ignite that anger in him, “ Well hello there, stranger. Nice of you to show your face after weeks of going off radar. No messages, no phone calls. We were supposed to call every week. What have you got to say for yourself?” 

In any normal circumstances Micha would’ve shot back with a witty comeback without thinking as she usually did. That was the nature of their relationship after all; that endless bickering, that back and forth sibling relationship that made her feel so at ease in her skin that she sometimes forgot Chan wasn’t even part of her family.

Right now though, she felt her free hand twitch, index finger pressing onto her thumb as she nervously grated at her skin.

Biting onto her bottom lip, the only thing she managed to muster out was, “sorry.” 

Surprise flashed through Chan’s face. There was a heavy silence for a minute.

“Micha,” Chan murmured, “what’s wrong?” 

“Nothing.” 

" Sure. Care to tell me what 'nothing' is about?"

"Chan, please," She rubbed a tired hand over her face, " I'm just not feeling it today."

He stared at her for a whole minute. Micha felt herself starting to squirm.

" Okay," he mumbled out, " Okay."

Regret instantly bit at her subconscious. She loathed the slight disappointment on his face and in a half- hearted attempt to lighten the mood, she quickly veered into another subject and ignored the poignant stare he kept sending her way. She'd rather be oblivious than try and extort some coherent sense out of the tangled ball of feelings in her stomach.

When they said goodbye though, Chan leaned a little closer to the screen, an undecipherable expression on his face, " call me when you feel better."

Micha nodded and swallowed thickly.

" I mean it Micha," his voice was stern, " call me."

Maybe it was the guilt whispering at the back of her conscience, maybe it was the way she saw a flash of his face in a stranger's every time she walked the streets that made her reach out to Chan once more in the next few days after that, willing herself to make as much effort as he did. Because Chan deserved that much.

They would text in-between classes, a mixture of casual jokes and an exchange of anime-related jokes that he kept sending her and causing her to burst out laughing in the middle of her classes. But while she was glad to see that Chan had no grudges to her lack of response, she still tried to steer clear of mentioning Ayeong.

That was starting to become more and more problematic.

Chan: Ayeong is allergic to crab. Did you know that?!

Micha: No

Chan: we went to eat at that snack stand, the one near the skate park we used to go to. She blew up like a goldfish.

Micha would've given anything to see that ridiculous sight. That was quickly overtaken by the stubborn pang of jealousy at the thought of them going to places she visited so frequently with Chan. 

It didn’t stop there. 

A few days later, Chan had texted her about their dinner to his parents' house and her stomach dropped like she'd just fallen down an elevator shaft.

Chan: They loved her. They actually loved her. I think my heart is gonna explode.

Micha had to force out a reply:

Micha: what did your mum cook?

Chan: guess.

Micha: pork ribs and braised beef?

Chan: yess omg! You actually remember. Ayeong loved it. She eats a lot for her size. And dad sat her down after dinner to show off his chess awards. The nerd.

Micha: cool.

Thankfully, her internship started a few weeks later, which meant that it was easier to ignore the glow of happiness in Chan's face and the way he seemed to be drifting away from her arms, slipping through her fingers no matter how much she tried to grasp at the strings of their relationship -- or what seemed to be left of it.

"You sure you don't want to come back home for Winter Break?" Felix asked once when he'd turned up at her shared flat uninvited just as she was closing the door to hurry for her night shift. He’d followed her down the staircase, long legs easily matching her pace as she took two steps at a time. 

“I can’t,” Micha replied breathlessly through her scarf, “I’ve got my internship.”

“Surely you can ask for a few days off? Just for Christmas?” 

"Nope."

Beside her, Felix grumbled, "You're no fun."

"Never said I was."

Micha had to admit that the reason why it hadn't been as hard to ignore the growing hole in her heart where Chan was supposed to be was all due to the three young men standing by her side. As childish as they were, they all had good intentions and it made Micha's heart fill with warmth whenever they did make it obvious that they cared.

Her phone buzzed suddenly just as the pair reached the bus stop. She quickly fished it out of her bag, eyebrows pinching in a frown upon seeing her father's name flashing across the screen.

"Hello?" She gave Felix a shrug when he mouthed whether everything was okay from her side. Nothing. 

She repeated, "hello? Pa? You there?"

"Micha."

Her frown deepened at the sound of her father's voice. He sounded breathless, a tone higher than his usual alto.

"Pa, what's wrong?"

"It's your mother. There was an accident."

. ° ☆ ° .

"What happened?"

Less than six hours later, Micha sat in the hospital corridor right outside her mother's room. She still had on her nurse uniform, completely dismissing all of her responsibilities and obligations the moment her father had informed her of her mother's accident.

If she were to be honest, she wasn't entirely sure how she'd managed to make it back without her knees giving away. But Felix had been there, a silent stone figure at her side as she'd thrown a bunch of clothes in a carry-on suitcase and grabbing the laptop from her shaky hands to book the earliest flight which was to depart in merely two hours.

Nothing had mattered then. Nothing but the need to see her mother and make sure that everything was fine. She didn't remember going through security, didn't even remember the plane taking off while gazing out of the window with a glazed look in her eyes and forcing down all the tears strangling her throat.

Micha's brain only came into focus the moment she was greeted by none other than her father’s face, heavy bags under his eyes and the tip of his nose red. 

Multiple lacerations. A broken femur. Heavy concussion that might result in potential brain damage. Words that Micha knew off by heart, could recite them in her sleep if she wanted to. Words that she’d spent months and endless sleepless nights poring over. 

Words that shot bullets through her, each one leaving an open wound. 

“She was waiting for the bus.” 

Her father’s voice, old and gravelled and shattered, brought her back to the reality of the hospital. His alto strung through the air of the corridor like a tightly coiled string about to snap. 

Micha took a shaky breath.

“I...I was late. At the restaurant. Too many people,” all the time that her father spoke, his gaze was glued to the operation door where Micha’s mother laid as if he could will her back to good health if he stared at it hard enough, “So she went back home first because she had to feed the cat. That stupid cat...If it weren’t--If it weren’t for him she wouldn’t have gotten hit--” he choked on his words, “--by the bus.” 

Cold dread threaded through Micha’s stomach and squeezed so tight she thought she would pass out. Her brain was already trying to put two and two together; finding the solution, figuring out the case, the damage. The solution, the--

“They said there’s little chance that she’ll wake up.” 

Reality struck like cold ice.

“What...” her mouth was dry, “...percentage?”

“fifty-fifty.” 

Her eyes slipped closed, squeezed tight. Silence trailed on with only the bustling sound of medical equipment and a hushed flurry of voices in the distance. 

Do something, her brain screamed at her, just do something! 

There was nothing she could do. Nothing. Her hands clamped into fists so hard her nails stung her palms. All she could do was wait.

So she did.

She must’ve dozed off at some point. Time seemed endless as the hours ticked by and by the time her mother was wheeled out, exhaustion was pulsating through her every muscle, her every limb. She stayed awake long enough to listen to the doctor’s statement, only to storm out in frustration upon realizing that there was no real answer and that the only thing that had been possible to do was stitch up her mother’s wounds as best as they could. 

In short, the doctor himself didn’t know when she’d wake up.

Micha was so intent on walking out for some fresh air that she barely processed a familiar alto calling her name in the distance, until a pair of arms snatched her shoulders back. 

She whipped around, “What?!--”

Her eyes fell upon Chan. 

Time stopped. Her mouth parted. 

Red-faced and with his beanie all the way down to cover himself from the cold, she would’ve barely recognized him if they were passerby’s on the street. But as he stood there with his runny nose and eyes that looked like they’d just cracked open, a wave of emotion hit Micha with such intensity that tears brimmed through her eyes. 

“Felix told me what happened. I’m sorry I couldn’t come sooner, I--”

And that was when Micha broke down into ugly sobs, legs giving away only to be saved by Chan’s arms wounding around her middle to pull her against his chest. 

Amidst it all, she swore she heard her heart breaking.

She wasn’t sure whether it was because of her mother. Or because throughout it all, even in the worst of times, she had come to a realization that knocked the breath out of her. 

She loved Chan. 

. ° ☆ ° .

Tagging: @elysianxshepherd​ @maedesculpaeusoubi​ @missskzbiased​ @freckledquokka​ @allyg-onz​ 

[simpsiren]

Drunken guest and a tail

lee jeno x reader

description. you headed over to your comfort space which is Jeno’s apartment, only to have a unexpected guest tagging along with you as you spent the night there.

genre. PURE FLUFF

word count. 1.6k~

warnings. nonees

a/n. i suddenly had the thought of jeno being allargic to cats then i figured how about write a short story about itt

20th December 2020.

You etched this date in your brain as you made your way to the bar. You looked down on your phone, feeling vibrations from it as you see Mark calling you for the fifth time. You were this close to switching off your phone completely if he called you one more time.

A lot went through your head while you walked down the dimly lit streets, trying to get your mind off everything by watching cars pass by or looking at the street lamps that flickered every few seconds. Yet, it wasn’t working.

The thought of your two year relationship with Mark ended in the blink of an eye the moment you saw him with another girl. To be honest, you knew it was going to happen someday when you realise him not contacting you as often, and your dates with him became less and less, moments away till it dissolves into nothing.

Knowing you’re going to have a long night ahead of you, you decided to call Jeno. Your only close friend that you could trust at this point. After hearing Jeno pick up, you gulped and looked up to the sky. “What?” You heard Jeno say in his usual monotone flat voice which he uses whenever he picked up any of your calls.

“Don’t lock the door tonight. I’m going through some shit and I might come to your house.” You heaved a sigh as you bit your bottom lip.

“Why? Did something happen-”

You hung up, way too tired to explain your situation with hope that Jeno would be asleep by the time you got home so he wouldn’t see you in your wrecked state.

You finally arrived at the bar. To your surprise, it wasn’t crowded. You scanned your eyes over your surroundings but decided to just take a seat in front of the bar.

“Vodka, please. And keep it coming.” You said lazily as the bartender appeared in front of you to take your order. Moments later your shot of vodka came. You wasted no time to down it all in one go.

You knew you were very resistant to alcohol but with all these emotions filling up your mind, you bet you wouldn’t even realise anything if you’ve exceeded your limit. But at this point, you didn’t care, wanting to desperately drink your sorrows away for just one night.

You felt your phone vibrating beside you. Not even wondering who called, you switched your phone off immediately.

“Miss, you seem drunk. Do you have anyone I can call to take you home?” You suddenly hear the bartender speak. You looked up with eyes that were half opened. One thing you didn’t notice till now was that he looked extremely good looking. You did a double take before clearing your throat and running a hand through your hair.

“I can go home myself.” You muttered as you rose from your seat, coughing as the alcohol that kicked in moments ago start to settle in with your head spinning and a mind that wasn’t in the right space.

You tried making your way to the front door, staggering your way there as your vision was just slightly beginning to go bad. You felt the bartender hold your arm to assist you, but you quickly pushed it off once you arrived at the door.

“And you cutie...” You said as you tapped a finger on the bartender’s shoulder. “Have a great night. Unlike mine when it got ruined in seconds.”

You pushed the door open and tripped on your way out. You suspire in despair, not even knowing what time it was. You started to walk, to who knows where. You wanted to go anywhere but home, wanting to feel the night breeze against your face as you walked down the streets at are now peacefully empty.

Absentmindedly, you somehow ended up in front of Jeno’s apartment. You squinted your eyes and tilted your head as you tried to read the number on the door. Yup, you were definitely at Jeno’s apartment. This was surely not the first time you’ve done this.

Whenever you have gone through a hard time, you would be standing outside Jeno’s apartment, not even knowing why. You could only assume that it was your feet that unconsciously walked you here. It was weird to feel comfort from just looking at the door of Jeno’s apartment from the first floor, but that became your habit ever since you became friends with Jeno. 

Running a hand down your face, you push the door open and entered, taking off your shoes and throwing them to the side. 

“Hey, I tried calling you so many times why didn’t you reply? Oi-” Jeno instantly got cut off when you pushed him aside and made your way to the living room. Before you could drop yourself onto the couch, you hear Jeno calling out your name.

Irritated, you spun around and glared at Jeno. “The fuck you want? I’m tired.” You growled, dropping your purse on the floor and letting out a whine. 

Jeno narrowed his eyes down on you and pointed down to the floor. You looked down at the direction he was pointing at, suddenly seeing a cat roaming around Jeno. 

“What’s a feline doing here? Did it follow you home?” Jeno asked with the raise of a brow. You huffed and scratched your head. “Does it look like I know?”

The two of you stared at the cat that was rubbing its head against Jeno’s leg for a long minute, not sure what to do with it since it just suddenly somehow showed up. “You wanted to adopt a cat, right? Keep it or something...” You mumbled before finally sitting down on the couch, taking a pillow and getting yourself comfortable while closing your eyes to let them rest.

Jeno glanced at your drunken tired state before fixing his eyes onto the cat once again. “How did you follow her here, cutie?” He whispered under his breath. Though it whisper was louder than he thought, making you open your eyes to see Jeno squatting down beside it and petting its head.

“What are you gonna do with it?” You asked, resting your chin on the palm of your hand as you leaned your body against the arm of the couch. “You tell me.” Jeno stood up and walked to the kitchen, filling a small bowl with water and going back to the cat, placing the bowl in front of it which resulted it to drink almost immediately. 

“Do you think I have the brain power to think?” I asked, shaking my head as I shrugged my shoulders and letting your body sink into the soft couch. 

Jeno sighed and placed a hand on his forehead as he stared down at the cat. The two of heard the cat meowing while it looked up at Jeno with big eyes. Of course, Jeno couldn’t resist, picking it up and holding it in his arms. He made his way over to the couch and sat down beside you, placing the cat on his lap. 

“It doesn’t look like a stray...” Jeno said as he inspected the cat thoroughly. You did the same, noticing how it had beautiful brown fur and big round brown eyes. It didn’t have a name tag or any sign of ownership either. “We can take care of it?” You puckered your lips as the cat moved into your lap, getting comfortable in it and rubbing its head on your hand. You smiled to yourself softly as you started to pet it, running your hand down its body. 

“We?” Jeno asked in confusion. 

You slowly laid your head on Jeno’s shoulder, moving your head around till you found a comfortable spot in the crook of Jeno’s neck. “I broke up with Mark.”

You didn’t hear a reply, only breathing could be heard. You didn’t bother looking up to Jeno to see his reaction to your words, only wanting to keep your eyes on the mysterious cat that seemed to like your presence. You didn’t mind since you felt comfortable with it as well. 

You suddenly felt Jeno’s hand creep up your head, running his hand down to caress your hair and run his fingers through it, untangling small strands of hair here and there. “I already told you to break up with him when you told me about the red flags, didn’t I?” Jeno replied with a light scoff. 

“Stop making me feel worse than I already am.” You begged, your voice muffled from the fact that you had your lips brushing above Jeno’s skin. 

You heard him sigh, placing a light kiss on the crown of your head before whispering, “Move in with me. She can move in as well.” Jeno jerked his head towards the cat that was already sleeping peacefully in your lap.

You didn’t know what came over you. Without you realising, you had your lips on Jeno’s. It was probably the alcohol that controlled you, but maybe perhaps your underlining feelings for Jeno as well.

Not recieving a response, you wanted to pull back, only to have Jeno’s hand cupping your cheek before pulling you back in, kissing you nice and slow. You tried not to move so as to not disturb the cat. Before the kiss could get heated, you were first to pull away, breathing heavily.

“Aren’t you allergic to cat fur?” 

Jeno only shrugged. “I’ll make it work.” He mumbled before connecting his lips with yours once again as the two of you kissed in silence with the cat sitting comfortably on your lap, Jeno unconsciously connected his hand with your that laid lightly on the cat, interlocking his fingers with yours as you allowed him to kiss your sadness and worries away.

[peachyho]

The Fall of Icarus II

pairing: Heeseung x Reader

genre: fluff, mild angst, mages

warnings: tattoo’s, some pain, a lot of fighting, some blood, sickening pet names, i write bad

word count: 3.3k

summary: Icarus laughed as he fell

⇺ Prev | Next ⇻

It had been 15 years since the two of you had pricked your fingers together, sealing the bond you’d had for all time. Since that day, you had never left his side. Now you were here in the giant house, resting on your entirely naked front while Heeseung was hovering over your back, following the stencil he’d lain on your skin a few hours prior while he tapped the black ink into your skin.

It wasn’t his first time, and now he’d worked on his powers enough to the point of you never feeling a thing. You never noticed how Heeseung shifted in pain every few moments with every new symbol he etched into your skin, how his skin seemed irritated for hours after, only testing your new abilities until your bones felt like they would break with one strong breeze.

Finally, everything was done, and Heeseung watched in awe as the ink slowly leached into your skin, leaving only a red impression of what he’d just sent hours working on. Slowly it faded even more to a subtle pink, looking like nothing more than just a bruise that hadn’t healed quite yet. The way it looped into the other symbols hidden on your back was nothing more than elegant, and Heeseung was thankful you had designed it so beautifully.

“You’re ready my little mage, it's finished,” his smile was showing in his voice, a gentle hand running up your bare side, finger brushing against the tickling spot on your ribs. Your hand came up to swat him away, pushing yourself up gently, anticipating the ache that never came as you pulled your shirt on.

“Thank you my kind warlock.” You pressed a light kiss to his lips, stretching as you stood up fully, tiredness already seeping through your body after lying down for so long.

“So what does this one do?” Heeseung grabbed your hand, lips brushing against your knuckles as he looked up at you from the chair. You ruffled his hair, eyes crinkling shut as you smiled at him.

“This, my little cat, is a looping sigil. If I ever wanted to activate it, it would be a fail safe.” Heeseung stared you down, eyes darkening slightly.

“A fail safe for what?” His tone was harsh, fingers gripping you tighter and tighter with every passing second.

“In case it's necessary, Hee. But it's just an if, I probably wont ever need it.” You crouched down in front of him, other hand taking his and squeezing it reassuringly. It didn’t seem to work.

“I promise you my little mage, I will never let anything happen to you. That sigil will never ever be used, I swear on my life.” With his words, a faint blue chain circled around your joined fists, barely noticeable in the light streaming in from the windows.

“I promise I will never use it unless it is the last possible choice.” Some chain links turned red, blending into the chain seamlessly. He let his head fall down slightly, pressing his forehead against yours while staring at the chain. You closed your eyes, letting your breath out in a shaky sigh.

“My little mage…”

“My kind warlock.” You tilted your head forward, brushing your lips against his ever so slightly. You opened your eyes as you pulled away, the chains no longer around your fists but a faint impression left on your skin.

—

17 years and 10 months. It had passed in a flash, the years creating up on you like a hunter stalking prey. Much like how Heeseung was acting now.

The two of you had arrived at this ball together, a friend and fellow mage celebrating his marriage in a night of drink and dance. Well, to call it a ball would be to imply some kind of fancy hall, servants standing at every possible area ready to serve drinks and food. This was not a ball in the typical sense.

The woods were lit by firebugs and fae light, stringed instruments playing a merry jig while some singers belted their voices to reach even the nearest village and most hidden creatures. People swung their partners in circles, drunk on mead and the feeling of true joviality. You were in the outskirts of the dance, spinning with a random mage with large rams horns protruding from his forehead, and two hooves for feet. He was a fantastic dancer despite them- or maybe because of them. With an unspoken count, all the ladies parted from their partners, running to the middle with a cheer, only to be spun by a new partner.

Your moss green woven dress flew around you, matching all the deep earth tones everyone wore, the only form of a dress code in this celebration. The hard chest under your steadying hands was familiar, and the laugh that bellowed out warmed your soul as Heeseung picked you up by the waist, twirling in time with everyone around him before setting you down, skipping with you in a large circle around the married couple in the centre.

“My little mage, I’ve been trying to dance with you all night,” Heeseung was slightly out of breath, small beads of sweat showing on his forehead, matching your own signs of exertion. “You’re a very hard woman to catch.”

“My sweet warlock,” a spin that almost sent you tumbling over a tree root sticking out of the ground. “I know you do enjoy a challenge,” you winked at him, spinning him this time, laughing as he almost fell over the same tree root. And with him distracted, the count finished again, all the women running towards the centre again with screams of glee, watching as Ilore grabbed Kirra’s waist, bending her and planting a tipsy, sloppy kiss to her cheek.

Another scream sounded out over the sounds of joy, a bloodcurdling scream that made you shiver, everyone around turning all over to see where it came from. The strings and singers trailed off at separate times, a dissonant sound making everyone cover their ears in pain. Another scream from a different voice came from your right, and some people started towards it to find the source, only to fall back as monstrous creatures emerged from the dark forest all around. The fae lights flickered out as people began running, some away from the monsters and some towards their weapons littered on the benches that had been pushed aside for the dancing.

You were almost frozen, head turning rapidly to try and find- Heeseung was helping up someone who’d fallen, but a creature was right behind him. Running as fast as you could, you tapped your right wrist with two fingers, feeling as the symbol began burning and a spear made of red lightning appeared in your hand. You stopped a few meters away, momentum carrying your arm as you flung the spear straight into the chest of the creature who was mere inches from Heeseung. He looked behind him just to see the spear return to your outstretched hand, turning into a whip just before reaching you.

Nodding at you, he returned to helping the fallen, while you continued attacking. Nothing was keeping them down, they just kept getting back up seconds after being knocked down. You tapped your wrist again, jumping back a few steps while someone ran into the side of a monster just in front of you. A hand grabbed your wrist, pulling you away just as another creature leapt on the man who was pummelling the fallen creature into the ground.

“Y/N we need to run!” Heeseung was desperately trying to pull you back from the fight, more mages joining in now they were armed.

“Heeseung, go now.” You spun, trying to get your arm free from his grip.

“I can't leave you!” His tone was desperate, fear making his chest tighter than anything he’d felt before. You placed a hand on his cheek, trying to calm yourself before you started running with him.

“I will always come back Heeseung, always back to you.” You tried to project a feeling of calm to Heeseung, knowing he could feel everyone’s fear which only helped in amplifying his own. A scream burst out behind you  just as he was starting to calm, and the edge of fear returned to his eyes, expression heartbreaking as he looked over your head at the fight still raging behind you.

“Come back to me, little mage.” Heeseungs hand squeezed your arm before letting you go, turning to run and help anyone who needed it.

“Always.”

A snarl sounded just behind your ear, and you barely managed to duck underneath the claws that came for your head. You tucked your arms around you, brushing your elbows with your palms, and spun as you pulled your arms apart, palms staying against your arms until your wrists. A transparent red shield suddenly burst into existence on your left arm, right hand glowing as the creature slammed against the shield in fury. Gods it was strong. You finally could take in it's appearance and it almost made you run right there.

Wulvers.

It was humanoid, entire body covered in short brown hair with a wolf's head snarling down at you. Wulvers were never down this far from the hills, nor were they particularly violent towards those who didn’t wrong them. What the fuck were they doing here, attacking a gods damned party?

Droll dripped down onto the red shield, arms slamming down again. It’s eyes were feral, hunger tainting it's eyes while claws ripped at the shield, desperate to get through. With a shout, you pushed the monster back with your covered arm, right hand grabbing it's thigh as it stumbled. Almost instantly, the Wulvers back arched in pain, a silent roar opening it's mouth to an impossible width, the skin at the sides stretching and ripping as pain seized every nerve. It dropped after a long moment, curling into itself as you finally pulled your hand away, running your hands back up your arms till the elbows.

There wasn’t much time to concentrate on the way it looked almost pitiful, mages all around you still trying to fight off the remaining Wulvers. You saw as a mage you once knew a few years ago, who gave you your first sigil book fell down underneath one of the creatures. You moved on instinct, sliding on your knees towards the mage, knuckles pressing together. When they pulled apart, they glowed with a blood red mist surrounding them. A punch to the Wulver’s side sent it staggering away, another punch to it's head knocking it out swiftly. You turned to pull the mage up before realising the symbols were still glowing. A swift press of them together made sure the mage wouldn’t be harmed as you pulled him to his feet. A twig was digging in uncomfortably on your sole- when did you lose your shoes.

There was countless shouts now, both pain and anger mingled together. Everywhere you looked, there was some mage or warlock fighting a Wulver, and you didn’t know where in the Hells to start. There, a witch was trying to scramble away from a Wulver who’d caught her dress in it's claws. Taking off in a sprint towards her, you clapped your hands together twice, palms glowing as you jumped onto the back of the Wulver, pressing your palms to the sides of it's head. The hair underneath your hands was thickly matted and tangled, but the Wulver felt the pain from your magic anyway. It let out a pitiful howl, body curling in on itself while it's claws finally retracted from the dress, scratching at it's head in agony. A claw sliced down your left hand, and you had to fight every instinct to pull in back and cradle it. A second later and the Wulver dropped to the floor, not dead but simply passed out.

Falling back from it, you crouched next to the witch, making sure she was alright before clapping your hands back together. Once the glowing subsided, you ripped at your dress, getting a strip large enough to wrap around your hand. The adrenaline coursing through your body helped fight off the pain for now, but you could feel small ebbs breaking through every few seconds. Every time you looked around now, another Wulver was falling, and there was no more place for you in anybody’s battle.

You allowed yourself a moment of rest, pushing yourself back against a tree stump at the edge of the clearing, exhaustion creeping up on you after using so many sigils so quickly in succession. The final Wulver fell to a mages axe, and everyone stayed in a moment of high alert, scanning the clearing for a sign of any more appearing from the dark woods. All the light had left now, firebugs leaving moments after the fighting had begun. The only light source was people’s magic, different colours melding together into one large collective. One by one, they lowered their weapons, finding the wounded and gathering the Wulvers into a pile. You helped as much as you could, but the pain and exhaustion were hitting full force now.

A healer mage was making his rounds on the wounded, and you tried to wave him away to help the others, but the blood seeping through your makeshift bandage was at a worrying level now and the mage sat you down on one of the benches still intact after the attack. His power made you feel warm, and you were close to falling asleep until you heard more footsteps coming from the side of you. You were a second away from attacking again until a voice called out, one more familiar to you than the back of your own hand.

“Oh my Gods, are you okay?!” Heeseung ran up to you, sliding to a crouch as he grabbed your face, scanning for any marks. His touch was beyond comforting, and you sank into it without any complaints.

“I’m okay, I’m okay. I made it back in one piece to you, didn’t I?” Your jokes were an attempt to comfort him, but his panic was becoming overwhelming, hands running over you in an effort to find any cuts or injuries. You couldn’t handle the feeling of dread in your stomach any longer, and you grabbed his wrists to stop his frantic examinations.

“Heeseung, look at me.” His eyes continued scanning you, so you let go of one of his wrists, grabbing his chin this time.

“Look at me. I’m okay. Calm down, deep breaths. I am okay, I am alive and I’m here with you. Calm yourself.” You could see the tears welling in his eyes as he looked into yours with such feeling, it made your very soul ache. He closed them after a moment, a shaky breath leaving him, one he didn’t know he was holding. His head fell forward, a tear sliding down his cheek, and you let go of his chin, hand resting on the back of his neck instead as you smoothed his tousled hair down, pressing your lips to the top of his head. Neither of you pulled away, resting there for a long moment while Heeseung managed to calm himself down, pulling his emotions back inside.

Eventually, he rested his hands on your knee, pulling away from you. His smile seemed too forced, and he still looked on the cusp of tears as he looked at you once again.

“Let’s go home, little mage.” Home to where nothing could hurt you is what he wanted to say. Home to where he could keep you safe, where you had laid protection sigils all over so nothing that wanted to cause harm could enter, to where he could hold you for the rest of the night knowing you were staying by his side and weren’t leaving him. You let him grab your hand, pulling you up to his side so he could wrap an arm around your waist, keeping you as close to his side as possible.

He wouldn’t let you go for the rest of the night, stepping in behind you into the bath, pulling you close to his chest while he washed the dirt and muck from the Wulvers off. You let him shampoo your hair, his fingers dragging over your scalp in the most relaxing way. You turned to return the favour but caught his troubled face.

“What’s wrong Heeseung?” You asked, placing your palm against his cheek. He leaned into the touch, eyes closing with the comforting touch. He hummed, twisting his head to press a kiss to your palm before answering.

“For a moment, I couldn’t tell if you were there. I've always been able to feel your presence, but when you were fighting, at some point everything just… closed off. I thought I lost you forever, my little mage. I don’t know what I would do if I lost you.” His eyes stayed closed but you could see the way his brow furrowed and his lips trembled slightly. Leaning forward to press a kiss to his nose, you grabbed the shampoo from beside him and squirted some into your hands.

“Open your eyes Heeseung,” you started rubbing the shampoo into his hair while he complied. “I’m here, aren’t I? I’m alive. I’m with you, right now. I’m not leaving you Heeseung, I promise.” Tears welled up in both your eyes as you spoke, and your voice shook with every passing word. He let out a breath that turned into a sob halfway through, and he wrapped his arms around you as he broke, nestling his head in your neck. The suds in his hair popped against your cheek as you pressed into him, bringing your arms around his neck, tears falling freely down your cheeks.

The two of you remained crying as you finished bathing, only pulling apart from each other when you had to wash his hair off. You dried each other gently, tears dried up but still sobbing, the weight of the day hitting the two of you fully in two very different but too similar ways. Heeseung lifted you up after your bath, making sure your legs were wrapped around his waist before carrying you out of the bathing room, arms wrapped oh so tightly around your waist as if he was scared you would suddenly disappear.

He did not let you go even as you reached the bedroom, sitting down on the edge with you on his lap. His head that was tucked into your neck pressed gentle kisses onto your skin, pushing himself up until he was now lying down, head against the pillows. You reached down to grab the cover, cold air hitting your still exposed skin making you shiver. Pulling it over the two of you, Heeseung adjusted so you were now at his side, still half draped over him. Your body felt too heavy to move on your own, so you just let him get the two of you comfortable, eyes feeling so very tired. Heeseung waved a hand, and the curtains showing the just brightening sky closed off, small candles being lit all over the room. He wasn’t ready to be in the dark just yet, fears that you would be lost to the dark if he couldn’t see you too overwhelming at this moment.

He felt so vulnerable when you were away from him, the knowledge that if you were hurt or worse, that he would go insane with guilt and loss was too much for him to bear. His arms tightened around you, needing to feel you close to him to know you were still there. Sleep felt too far for him to reach this night, but with the feeling of your steadying breathing against him, and the warmth you were giving off, somehow he managed to find himself moments away from drifting off.

“I can't lose you my little mage.” His whisper was so loud in the quiet room, the sounds of birds waking outside the only other thing he could hear.

“I fear I would lose myself too.”

[qitwrites]

⬅ Previous || 27 || Next ➡

“How is he?”

Aizawa’s voice, normally gruff and sleep-heavy, sounds sharp and worried. His eyebrows are pinched tight on his forehead, and his hands are folded across his chest with an iron grip, as if barely keeping himself together.

Ken looks at Aizawa and sighs. “He talks and he talks and he talks, but he’s not really saying anything.”

Aizawa purses his lips.

“I don’t think speaking to me will be the breaking point.” Ken laces his fingers together and stares at them as he continues, “But he will, indeed, break. As you did, as I did, as we all did. And when that happens, perhaps, being in the dorms will offer some semblance of comfort.”

Ken looks up and waits till Aizawa catches his eye. “I will be here when he needs me. Until then, I shall continue our sessions, even if he just keeps talking without saying anything.”

Aizawa nods curtly, mumbles out a goodbye and walks back to his accommodation.

---

A hero never forgets their first.

The work is dangerous. Most days are easy and mundane, and then there are days where the hits keep coming. People get hurt, heroes get hurt, and villains get away. You even lose people, in the crossfire or because you were too late, and those wounds never fully heal, the scars faded and jagged, moving with your every move, a constant reminder.

And then there are the days when you feel the Earth beneath you crumble as you watch a child die. When you lose someone young, innocent, with baby fat on their cheeks and wide toothless smiles. Kids with scrapped knees, stars in their eyes, and the softest hair. Kids like Eri.

A hero never forgets their first child.

Aizawa watches Kaminari speaking animatedly with his classmates, eyes bright and body language lax, and feels his fists clench.

He sucks in a deep breath, pushes away any thoughts of blue hair and big, loud smiles and continues his lesson.

---

It’s Bakugou that stays behind in class one day, two and a half weeks after the incident.

“Something’s fucking wrong with Sparky.”

“Language,” Aizawa says automatically, before lowering his books and looking at the blonde. “How do you mean?”

“I don’t know, something is just. Since that day, he- Fuck, I don’t know.”

Aizawa lets this one go. “He’s been coming to class. He’s attended every therapy session with Cementoss. Lunch Rush tells me he’s eating well, and he seems-“

“His eyes-” Bakugou interrupts, nose scrunched in deep thought. “- his eyes are too bright. That’s not his usual, happy-go-lucky-idiot shine. They’re too bright.”

He stands up and pulls his bag over his shoulder. “His eyes feel artificial. He moves his body too much, every movement exaggerated, like he’s constantly compensating. Like he’s fucking pushing something down as hard as he can. And then, there are these moments-“ Bakugou stops just shy of the door. He looks over his shoulder but his eyes don’t seek Aizawa, instead glaring at the tiles near his feet.

“There are these moments when his eyes are vacant, like he’s not even in the same room as us.”

With that, Bakugou walks away and Aizawa finds himself thinking back to the past, the well-acquainted pain in his chest rising from slumber, squeezing till his heart feels like it’s about to break, shatter apart the way it did that day.

Because Aizawa and Hizashi grew up.

That day though, they lost Loud Cloud, who was nothing more than a kid. A young child, gone before he could ever learn just how terrible the world really is.  

---

Kaminari attends class. He eats lunch with his friends, jokes around with them, trains every day, and sleeps in on the weekends. He never finishes his homework on time, calls his parents at least twice a week, and continues to go stupid when he overuses his quirk.

He also goes quiet more often, enough for Kirishima to pick up on it too. Bakugou watches Kaminari carefully, watches his eyes go vacant in the middle of movie night, watches him flinch when metal protests under the force of Midoriya’s quirk during training and watches his smiles get wider and more rigid, eyes so bright the fluorescent bulb in the common room dims in comparison.

There is nothing to do but wait.

---

It took Aizawa three months to break after Shirakumo.

Long after the cremation and the memorial and after the chatter picks back up in the hallways. He goes home one day, puts his bag on his desk and takes a seat, intent on finishing his homework. His pen is nowhere to be found so he yanks his desk drawer open-

Only to find a blue and white pen with the name Oboro etched into the body.

Aizawa thinks he hears a crack as his heart splinters and the tears begin, flowing freely. He bites into his forearm to keep from wailing, and he can’t see or breathe or feel anything past the wave of pain that drowns him.

With shaking hands and a complete lack of coherent thought, it takes him 14 minutes to type out a message to Hizashi. It takes the blonde another 8 minutes to get to his room, scoop him up and cry with him, and that wound never quite closes, always exposed, ever-present.

---

It finally happens on an average Wednesday, a month after the incident.

Aizawa’s just finished up with homeroom announcements, and as he straightens up the stack of papers on his desk, he hears Jirou.

“Kaminari, check out this mem- whoa, you ok, man?”

He looks at the blonde and startles when he sees the tears streaming down his face as he stares vacantly at his own hands.

Aizawa moves fast, because that’s what pros do- they calculate, they assess, they make split second decisions that spell life or death and everything in between.

He instinctually activates his quirk just as he whips his capture weapon out, pulling everyone around Kaminari away from him. Because he smells the static in the air, feels the prickles on his skin and he knows the boy is this close to losing complete and absolute control of his quirk.

Kaminari doesn’t acknowledge the chaos around him as people yell out in surprise and try to understand the situation. Aizawa keeps his eyes on Kaminari, and watches as Bakugou turns to Yaoyarozu and yells, “Make me some fucking insulated gloves now.”

Surprisingly though, it’s Shinsou that snatches the first pair and jumps across the desks to get to Kaminari, ducking down to his eye level, staying out of Aizawa’s line-of-sight.

“Hey, do you know where you are?”

Kaminari jerks at that, his eyes snapping over to Shinsou. They’re still vacant and hollow, lifeless. Shinsou keeps one glove on but leaves his other hand free.

“Kaminari, do you know where you are right now?”

Slowly, like he’s underwater, Kaminari swallows and shakes his head.

“Ok, that’s ok, take your time. I just want you to know you’re safe. Do you need anything right now?”

Kaminari looks around slowly, as if trying to understand what’s going on. He looks back at Shinsou and swallows thickly.

“There’s so much blood,” Kaminari says, and his voice sounds haunted. He bites his lip as a fresh pool of tears gather in his eyes.

“Get Cementoss,” Aizawa says to Shoji, his eyes still trained on Kaminari. They’re starting to feel a little dry and irritated, but it’s nothing he can’t handle. Bakugou is also by Kaminari now, hovering behind him protectively, keeping the others away.

“I don’t understand,” Kaminari suddenly says, voice clear and colored with genuine confusion. “How does a kid just die?”

He laughs, a slightly hysterical sound, before his eyes, wide and far too bright, whip over to Aizawa.

“Sensei, there’s no way that kid died, yanno? She was so tiny, barely up to my hip. And so cute, with a lisp. There’s no way she’s dead. Obviously.” He knocks his own head, a hard hit that makes Kirishima flinch, and Bakugou gently holds his arms, to keep him from hurting himself. Kaminari barely notices.

“Kids don’t die,” Kaminari says, his eyes boring into Aizawa’s. “Right, Sensei? They don’t. How can they? They’re too tiny. Someone that small can’t die.”

Aizawa’s eyes sting, and he can say it’s his quirk but he feels it in his heart, a bone-deep ache that’s just second nature to him.

“Kaminari, nobody can live forever.” He clears his throat, slowly walking around the table as he approaches the boy, holding his gaze. “Nothing is forever, not even the- not even the children.”

Kaminari’s eyes go vacant again. “That can’t be true, you know? Cause that means she’s gone.” He looks at Shinsou. “Her hands fit in my palm Toshi. Her entire hand. I don’t. There was so much blood, I can’t- how?” He reduces to nothing but a blubbering mess, and finally, he slumps sideways, right into Bakugou’s abdomen before he wails, the sound of a deeply wounded animal permeating into the very walls of the room.

Shinsou keeps a grounding grip on his knee while Bakugou pushes a hand into his hair, holding him close to his stomach. His own face is scrunched up, eyes red and daring anyone to say anything, to him or Kaminari.

Bakugou goes with him when Cementoss comes. They take Kaminari to the therapy room and Bakugou stays the entire time.

Aizawa turns to face his class again, once the chairs are moved back in place and the shock of it all simmers down, leaving behind an empty cavity in the very middle of the room.

“You never forget your first,” Aizawa tells them, speaking from his soul. “You will never forget your first, and I want you all to promise me that when it happens, you find me. You find somebody. You seek help. And you keep pushing forward. So that someday- “

He clears his throat and pushes through, “So that someday, there won’t be a first anymore.”

He watches his students nod before they turn to each other, looking up ways to help someone in Kaminari’s condition, using their time together as a reference for what will help the most. And Aizawa feels hope and pride gently coat his heart, a band-aid atop a deep, bleeding gash, but it’s something.

He thinks about bright blue hair, a smile that put the sun to shame and the warmth of a gentle soul.

You never forget your first.

[mcu-fan-fics-blog]

The Artist and Her Deadly Muse

One Shot Mini Series: Natasha Romanoff x  Fisk Reader. 

Word Count: 3000 approx 

A/n: I have WIP for Wanda and reader its taking more time than I thought, but for now this. I kind of got little carried away with this I hope you guys like it. There will be a second part. See you soon! 

Part 2

New York, your home… Your safe haven. You're sitting on the subway when you see her. You’ve always liked New York for this very reason there are people everywhere. Your hands are fidgeting, anxious to begin their work. There is just something about her the way she handles herself, how her head is steady on her shoulders, no apparent worry crossing her mind. Your hand begins to move on the paper making her rough outline. Your eyes shift between her and your book for a couple of stops. 

Stepping out of the subway and taking that first breath of fresh air… It was just like the first time. There was something about walking through masses of people every day, knowing that you will pass them again and again, and they won't even notice. However, you do notice and you pride yourself in that. Three years living in this marvelous city and it has not ceased to amaze you. You have New York down to a “T”. That's not to say that it was all good, you were detail oriented almost to a pathological degree. Which is why you noticed her and her marvelous red hair. Also the small fact that she was definitely following you. 

You weave through crowds, take unexpected turns, yet still you see her keeping her distance. It was almost funny how she's not noticed that you were leading her on a wild goose chase. You duck into your favorite sandwich shop, and take a seat. You can't help, but feel a little disappointed at the fact that she didn't bother to follow you in. You take your time, catching your breath. When you feel safe you decide to walk out the back door. Suddenly you’re being pinned against a wall, by a very familiar redhead. 

“I usually don't do this before the third date.” You quip a smirk on your face. “Although looking at you now, I might make an exception.” She doesn't seem to like your compliments as she snatched your satchel. “Who do you work for?” she asked impatiently, pressing you harder against the wall. “I’d have to ask you the same question, because I swear if my father sent you…” The confusion written on her face makes you stop your rant. “And you don’t work for my… father” You emphasize the last part. Regretting having opened your mouth.  

You clear your throat and shift your view to her hold on your arms raising your brow. She lets go a little embarrassed. “So… What's up with the staring?” She asks confused. “Well, It's simple really. You stick out like a sore thumb.” You say chuckling at the slightly offended look she flashes you with. You take your satchel back and look through it to make sure everything is good. “Care to explain?” she asked with an amused look in her eyes. You narrow your eyes and she continues. “Your sore thumb statement… What's your evidence.” You shift off the wall, and clean yourself off. “Well, to your credit most people don't pay attention… but I’m not most people.” 

You take your sketchbook out of your satchel and flip to her page showing it to her. “I’ve never seen you around… If I had I’d remember.” You say walking away, and her smile makes your stomach flip. Natasha made her way back to the compound where the team was waiting for her. “What took you so long?” Asked Tony as soon as he saw her walk through the elevator doors. “I took the Subway” Is all she says too preoccupied to notice Tony grimace and the sheer look of disgust in his face. She hears him mutter something about disinfecting everything she touches… She's not completely listening, still thinking about you.  

“Now where have you gone off to Romanoff.” Tony asks teasingly as he waves his hand in her face, which she promptly swats away. “I met an interesting character on the Subway.” She states, still faraway. Tony hums. “I’m sure you did, you’ll always find some interesting characters on the subways.” She shakes her head and agrees. It had been mere hours after meeting you and she could tell she was hooked. The next day she went to the same subway in hopes of finding you but no such luck. She didn't give up though she showed up every day for weeks... She was on the verge of giving up when she saw you. Getting off an armored black car your head bowed as you made your way to an apartment building nearby. For someone you had clocked her… you were incredibly off your game.  You didn't even turn when she walked into the building after you.

“Let me guess you’re about to ask me to paint you like one of my French girls.” You say not bothering to look back a smirk on your face as you turn to face that redhead. You chuckle at her baffled face as you turn around. “Will you paint me like one of your French girls?” She asks, it’s her turn to bask in your reaction. Your laugh fills the room making her laugh with you. “We’ve really got to stop meeting like this… I don't even know your name” You point out making her clear her throat just as she's about to say her name you interrupt her. “Let me guess… Patricia?”  She shakes her head in denial stifling a laugh. “Natalie Rushman” You nod. “Yeah that was going to be my next guess.” You play it off making her laugh. “My name is Y/n Fisk it's nice to officially meet you Natalie.” You say as you give her your hand to shake. “Would you like to come upstairs.” You ask politely and she hesitates, but ultimately gives in. You make your way up to your apartment which is a complete understatement. “Well you seem awfully humble for this place.” She states. 

“And for that matter it’s twice now that you’ve clocked me how?” You sigh putting your keys down on the table. “Yes, well my father always had a way of showing me he cared.” She nods intrigued. “My turn… Why were you looking for me?” You were direct and firm, yet not confrontational. “Well you made an impression Y/n.” You hum pouring her and yourself a glass of wine. You take the first sip and she follows shortly after. “I wanted to see how that sketch turned out Y/n… you know because you used my likeness and all. Want to make sure it doesn't end up in the wrong hands.” She says smirking, but there's a seriousness in her voice. And you nod. “Well you'd be relieved to know that the artist is out of commission till further notice.” 

This takes Natalie by surprise, you see it in her eyes she wants to ask why but can't bring herself to actually do it so you tell her. “Another gift from my father… the family company. That is currently on the brink of financial devastation.” You say as you finish off the rest of your wine in one gulp, pouring yourself another glass you offer Natalie one as well. “So no more art and sitting on the subway for hours on end.” You chuckle humorlessly. “When you put it like that…” You try to make light of the situation, but fail. “No more art… No more sitting on the subway for hours on end… No more doing what I love.” Your thoughts racing, almost forgetting you're in a room with an otherwise complete stranger. You clear your throat stopping your train of thought and continue. “This is actually my last night here, I'm moving.” You lift your gaze to meet hers and it’s consuming. The way that her eyes are looking at yours, how she can see right through you. She starts moving closer to you and you let out a deep breath. 

When you don't step away or break eye contact she continues making her way towards you. Her hands move to your face, and she slowly closes in interlocking your lips. You deepen the kiss holding on to her hips and moving her closer to you. Your hands brush the hem of her shirt. She bites your bottom lip asking for entrance and you grant it. A fight for dominance ensues, you almost give in but she beat you to it letting you take control. Your night goes by in her arms exploring her skin, etching every detail in your mind, remembering every spot that makes her knees go weak. When you wake up your bed is empty, and you want to be disappointed but you can't. You can't drag someone into the shit show that is your family. So true to your word you were gone by lunchtime. 

It had been months and it just kept getting worse. You found out why the financial situation had become so dire. Your father all but drained the company of all its funds… You always knew that your father was a questionable man but this was low even for him. Disparaging your mothers name your name. You learned not to be offended though he trusted you enough to get out of this mess. Your mother brought out the best in him, but in the end the worst ended up prevailing. You worked, and worked threw yourself into the obligation that was tossed your way. “Miss Fisk you have Forbes on the line and Pepper Potts on another.” You nod. It had been a year and a half and you thrived. You haven't heard from your father in all that time. You had Manhattan wrapped around your finger, and everyone knew it, like your father you were ruthless to those you betrayed you, Once someone was burned by you no one dared talk about them, much less in your precedence.  

You look and wonder where that bright eyed hopeful person you were went. Then you remember all the people you put your trust in and all the people that tried to kick you when you were down. Forbes was something that represented the end of you, whatever was left of that person you were not too long ago. “Y/n Fisk, to what do I owe the pleasure Ms. Potts?” You were surprised when she called. You thought Stark Industries would want to stay away from a name like yours. “No, need for the formalities Y/n. I’m exploring a business venture that might help us both out.” She goes on to explain her plan and you say you’d think about it, in turn she invites you to a Stark Function this weekend… “Well Pepper I look forward to meeting you and discussing this business venture further.” You put the phone down into the receiver and can't help the small smile that grows on your face. As much as you hated the obligation you couldn't deny the pride that you felt, or how you felt thinking of how proud your mother would be… It almost makes it all worth it.   

It's another one of Tony's parties that she is forced to go to, Natasha Is at the bar serving drinks when she sees you. Or someone who held an uncanny resemblance, something was different, your posture no longer relaxed, now effortlessly poised and business like. The sparkle in your eyes was the same, but everything else was fundamentally different. She witnessed Pepper walk up to you, and how your face instantly lightened. Pepper had shared a couple of words with you and took you to speak with Tony. Natasha's eyes widen slightly as she notices Pepper making her way straight to her. “How’d I do?” She asks Natasha with a smile growing on her face. “What do you mean?” She asks confused. “Well, the new mission haven't you been briefed?” She shakes her head. “No, I just got back from one abroad. What is this mission about?” She nodded understandingly. “That's Y/n Fisk Daughter of Wilson Grant Fisk… Kingpin.”

Natasha's eyes widened, she can't believe she didn't put it together sooner. “So she’s following in her Father's footsteps?” Natasha asks carefully. Pepper continues. “Well, we’ve been keeping tabs since a year and a half ago, after Fisk Industries suddenly went into the red.” Natasha quirks her head. “Wilson syphoned all the money and took off. Y/n is ruthless when it comes to business, it's a miracle she saved the company.” Pepper stops and looks at Natasha's still confused face. “What exactly is she doing here though.” Pepper takes a moment before she answers. “We’re recruiting her… using her to get to her Father.”  Natasha can't help, but shake her head. “How do you know she’s willing to work against her father… They are family at the end of the day. Blood is thicker than water.”  She says as she sees You and Tony walk off into a more secluded part of the compound.

After an hour maybe more she spots you again. This time the light is completely gone in your eyes. It was truly an off putting sight, no apparent emotion ran through your expressions. Your movements were cold, and calculated an opportune smile on your face when someone walked up to you. The desire to get out of there was apparent. She took her eyes off you all of two minutes, and by then you'd made it to the elevator door standing next to a rather old man, whose talking business. She watches you as you wave the older man away with a smile plastered on your face, handing him your card, and just like that you’re gone.

The drive back to Manhattan was a quiet one, full of reflection and contemplation. By the time you make it back to your Penthouse you’re ready to just go to bed. As soon as you walked in you knew something was off. “You need to stay away from Stark Industries Y/n '' It didn't even phase you, your back still turned on him you made yourself a drink and drank it. Finally turning you meet your fathers gaze. “Father, I would say it's good to see you, but that would be a lie. You know how mom felt about lying.” You were testing him and he knew it. “What do you want?” You reiterate and make your annoyance known. “You need to stay away from Stark Industries Y/n, It's for your own good.” You sigh rubbing your temples. “Why would I back down from the business deal of my life? What do you know?” He’s quiet, his eyes boring holes into yours, testing your resilience. “You left me with the mess that was My mothers company in shambles… you don't get a voice in what I do with the company.” 

“You’re not going to like what's going to happen if you don't back down Y/n. The board…” You laugh at his attempt at a threat. “Well, haven't you heard… Those usurpers paid for their wrongs. They tried to take your precious company from me.” You chuckle at his obliviousness. “I have the power here… So I suggest you start talking.” 

(4 Hours Ago)   

“Y/n, I see no need to continue this charade. I Don't think you’re a bad person.” This is where Tony starts off which sets the tone foe the rest of the conversation. “Well, I’ve been around long enough to know when someone wants something from me. So what does Tony Stark need from me?” You say as your eyes close in on him. “It’s not really what I need. It's more of a ‘are you willing to’ corporate.” He then proceeds to show you this presentation very well made if you might add. Of things you already knew about your father, but your question was, How did he know? “Right… So you want me as bait?” You say finally leaving with him. “Well, in a way yes. You won't be in immediate danger, your father won't hurt you.” You chuckle. “You underestimate him.” You say. “He left me to clean up after his mess. Hasn’t checked in once, since then. Why would he now?” 

“Lets just say word has spread about our little business venture.” He states. “So this... you are informing me that  I’m bait.”  He nods. “Great glad you caught on… see we couldn't take the risk…” you finish his statement. “Of me saying no.” You nod. “What do you need me to do exactly.”  Tony then goes on a tangent on what you will need to do takes too long for you liking but you sit through it anyways. “So you want me to push his buttons and get him to talk.” He agrees giving more specifics and more details. “Right, well call me when you need me” You say as you stand up and walk away.

 (Current Time) 

“And you did all of this, Why?” You don't even give him the chance to explain himself. “I was never under any pretense that you were a good man, but this… this is vile.”  You could tell your words hurt him. The same words your mother had once uttered before she passed. “Y/n I-i tried to keep you away from all of this.” He tries to defend himself. “Of course by throwing me right in the middle of all of it.” Push buttons you did. “I was once proud to be a Fisk, a name that commanded respect, now I am disgusted and ashamed of this name.” At this point he just kept blaring on about how he tried to fix things, how he just dug himself deeper. Final jab, at this point it wasn't necessary this one was for you. “I hate you for making me hate mom… every time you would promise her an out of this… she believed you, and I hate her for that.” you take a breath and look him dead in the eye. “Because you never deserved her love.”

Before you could even process the hurt on his face, agents stayed bursting through every entrance. Window, doors, balcony, any entrance you could possibly think about blocked and barricaded. You step back from your father, but he’s too quick. He takes our arm and drags you in front of him, using you as a human shield. 

[let-the-dream-begin]

A Place to Belong Chapter 39: The Man and the Myth

Chapter 38

Read on AO3

They sat silently for a few more moments, before Claire felt Jamie inhale. She lifted her head off of his chest to look up at him, the sight of him taking her breath away again.

“Her name...what did ye name her?”

Claire’s heart strained, and she smiled tearily. “Brianna.”

His eyes closed, and he exhaled with a shudder. “Brianna,” he repeated, savoring each syllable as it rolled off his tongue. Her name…his daughter’s name. “Brianna.”

“For your father, Brian. Remember?” Claire caressed his jaw, eight years of separation not enough to suppress an instinct etched so deeply in the marrow of her bone.

“Aye...aye, I do.” His voice was hoarse with emotion. Claire stretched up to reach him better, pressing their foreheads together.

“Can ye...can ye tell me about her?”

She chuckled through her nose, the breath tickling Jamie’s skin.

“She’s...a hellion, for starters.”

Jamie laughed now, his lips trembling against her chin.

“She’s very smart, and she loves horses, and she’s empathetic, and stubborn and bold and brave…” Claire lost her voice for a moment, blinking away tears. She pulled away enough to look into his eyes. “She’s yours, Jamie. In every way.”

Every line of his face was hard, his eyes red, stagnant tears on his cheeks. “Mine.”

Claire nodded wordlessly, brushing her lips on each of his cheeks, kissing away his tears.

“She’s...she’s beautiful, is she no’...?” he said. “I could hardly see fer lack of air...but she’s...she’s beautiful, Claire.”

Claire nodded, tears slipping out of her own eyes now, and Jamie brushed them away with gentle caresses of his thumbs.

“She is.”

She was unable to resist closing the small distance between them and kissing him soundly, and she almost whimpered in disbelief. How many times had she tried to picture this, and yet his lips had vanished beneath hers every time...?

They stayed there, moved beyond words again, until Claire’s stomach lurched, remembering.

“There’s��there’s one more thing you should know.” Claire broke the silence.

“Her twin?” Jamie said.

“God, no…” Claire chuckled. “No…there’s…been a lasting effect of the difficult birth. It isn’t serious,” she said quickly. “We’ve become fairly good at managing it, all of us. Jenny and Fergus and Ian. And Brianna knows what to do now when she feels it coming on. She’s old enough to understand.”

Jamie nodded silently, urging her to continue.

“Yes…now she…she has something called epilepsy. From a lack of oxygen during her birth. She has seizures occasionally. They’re usually not very bad.”

“Seizures?” Jamie repeated the foreign word. “What does that mean?”

“She…she becomes rigid, stiff. Her eyes roll to the side, like this.” Claire demonstrated briefly. “Her left arm and leg twitch, uh…like this.” She bent her arm at the elbow to show him. “She loses consciousness during it. It isn’t serious,” Claire reassured again, sensing his growing panic. “It was far more dangerous when she was a baby. Could have caused permanent damage back then.”

“So it willnae cause damage any longer?” Jamie said.

“It shouldn’t, unless it’s a very, very long one. So it’s not terribly serious. I just thought you should know. It’s…quite frightening if you’ve never seen one before, especially in a child.” Claire shuddered at the memory. “She was just a month old when she had her first one. It was horrible. But I’m quite used to them now. You just…have to be prepared.”

Jamie nodded, though his brow was still furrowed with concern. “Ye’ll…ye’ll show me how to be prepared?”

“Of course.” Claire cupped his cheeks, resting their foreheads together. “I still can’t believe you’re really alive…”

Jamie wrapped his arms around her. “Sometimes I canna believe it myself either.” He kissed her head. “Can ye…can ye take me inside so I can properly meet my daughter?”

Claire stood up and reached down to help him up. “You’ll have to be…patient. She doesn’t know you at all.”

Jamie nodded sadly. “I ken that.”

“I’m going to have to explain where you’ve been all this time. We told her you died for Scotland. She thinks you’ve been in Heaven all this while.” Jamie nodded. “I thought of telling her that soldiers made a mistake when they brought news of your death. But how do I explain where you’ve been? I…I don’t even know where you’ve been...I haven’t even asked you yet.”

“Ardsmuir prison,” he said flatly.

Claire cringed, squeezing his hands in comfort. “We can talk about it later.” He nodded solemnly. “Perhaps I can tell her that…you were hiding from the bad men, or — ”

“Ye can tell her I was in prison.”

“Jamie, I don’t think — ”

“I committed treason. It’s a fact. I dinna wish to raise her on lies, ye ken,” Jamie said, and Claire frowned. “She canna keep thinking I’m some sort of God. I’m a man, a man wi’ faults, a man who’s committed sin and crime. It’s time she came to know her father as a mortal man rather than this mythical being that ye’ve created for her imagination.”

“Jamie, I didn’t tell her anything that wasn’t true…”

“I ken. But she’s likely been embellishing it in her head wi’out realizing, whether ye intended fer her to do it or no’.” He wrapped his arms around her waist, resting his clasped hands on the small of her back. “After yer parents died, did ye no’ dream of them, even wi’out remembering what they looked like? Did yer wee head create the perfect memories of them since ye had nothing else to hold on to?” Claire’s eyes narrowed in thought. “I ken I did that wi’ my mother. I was a bairn when she passed. To hear everyone speak of her ye’d think she was an angel. And to me she was. No one was telling me anything that wasnae true. But hearing it, over and over, she became an intangible spirit rather than a concrete memory. I think even if she’d magically come back to us I’d never stop seeing her that way.”

Claire nodded in understanding. “I see what you mean,” she said. “I suppose for a while I had an idealized picture of my parents. Though in my case, no one ever talked about them. So it seems a little different.”

“So do ye understand why I want her to know the truth? I canna father a child who thinks I’m a Godly spirit-man.” He paused for a moment. “Now I…I willnae tell ye what to do. She’s yer daughter — ”

“Jamie…she’s your daughter, too.”

“I ken. But ye said yerself. She doesna know me.” Claire’s heart was breaking. “You were there for her…seizures, ye ken how to help her. Ye ken the name of her horse, her favorite color, how to make her laugh, what sorts of sweets she likes…”

“Jamie.” Claire cupped his face in her hands. “You will know those things, too. I know you can’t replace the years you lost with her…there’s no way to get that back. But you will know her just as completely as I do, and eventually in ways that I don’t. It will take time. But you will. I promise.”

Jamie sighed. “Do ye think…do ye think she can learn to love the man more than the myth?”

“Yes. I do.”

“What about you?”

“Me?”

“Ye’ve spent…eight years creating images of me in yer mind. I’m not the same man I was before. Can ye learn to love the man I’ve become?”

Claire kissed him. “Can you learn to love the woman I’ve become?”

He kissed her back. “‘Till our life shall be done,’ Sassenach.”

She sighed contentedly. “I do love you.”

“And I love you.”

“Come on now.” Claire began tugging him toward the house. “Someone is waiting to meet the giant from the faery hill.”

Jamie laughed out loud. “I ken if I hadnae been scared stiff I’d’ve had a good laugh at that.”

“Me too.”

They entered the house and wandered through the parlor, then to the kitchen. Jenny was there, helping Mrs. Crook with supper.

“Are you two quite finished howling at each other?” Jenny said, only briefly glancing up from the chopping.

“You heard that,” Claire said sheepishly.

“All of Lallybroch heard that,” Jenny scoffed. “I almost came out there and clopped yer heads together myself. Lucky ye finally quit just in time.”

“Aye, lucky fer us.” Jamie smirked.

“If yer looking fer Brianna,” Jenny said, rushing a handful of vegetables to the pot over the fireplace. “She’s in her bedroom. Crying to Fergus last I heard.” Claire and Jamie exchanged a guilty look. “She thinks her ‘mummy’ hates her fer riding her horse at a trot.”

Claire smiled despite the guilt bubbling in her chest. “We’ll be going to her, then. We’ll see you at supper, Jenny.”

“Aye.” She didn’t look up from the pot. Claire and Jamie started to leave, but then: 

“Brother.” They stopped and turned around expectantly. “Good luck wi’ the bairn. She’ll love ye. I ken it.”

Jamie smiled. “Thank you, Jenny.”

Claire laced her fingers with Jamie’s as she led him up the stairs in the parlor.

“Feels strange to be led around in my own home,” Jamie said wistfully. “I dinna ken where anything is. I dinna even ken who those bairns are.” He indicated Maggie, Kitty, and Janet running about the hall, squealing their wee heads off.

“You’ll catch up,” Claire assured him. Claire paused on the stairs. “See the golden haired one?” Kitty was currently trying to pry wee Janet off of her leg. Jamie nodded. “That’s Katherine.”

Jamie looked gobsmacked at Claire, then quickly back at Kitty, who soon disappeared into the hall with her sisters. “That bonny lass is little Caitríona…?” Claire nodded. “Last I saw her, her wee head fit in the palm of my hand…”

Claire rubbed his shoulder. “That’s how I feel every time I look at Brianna.” She tugged again on his arm. “Come on, she’s waiting.” They continued up the stairs, and Claire gestured to her room. “The guest room is my room now. Well…ours, I suppose.” She smiled sheepishly. “The children are up the next flight.” She led him up and to the door she knew Brianna was behind. “She shares the room with Kitty. Poor Maggie has to share with the youngest daughter, but Kitty and Brianna are inseparable. Maggie had her own room before Janet was out of her cot, and when the time came we tried to have Maggie and Kitty share, and then Brianna with Janet. But the two of them refused to sleep for even a moment, every night, until they were sharing a room.” Claire smiled at the memory, and Jamie softly chuckled in response.

“Ah…Janet?”

“Oh, that was the dark haired one hanging onto Kitty’s leg.” Claire smiled. Jamie nodded, and Claire could tell that he was already overwhelmed. She placed steadying hands on his shoulders. “Your nieces and nephews will love you just fine, Jenny and Ian will catch you up. But right now, you have a daughter that needs you.”

“I…have a daughter,” Jamie whispered reverently, still hardly believing it. Claire kissed him, smiled encouragingly, then turned to knock on the door.

“Hello?” Claire slowly cracked the door open “May I come in?”

She poked her head in to find Fergus and Brianna sitting on the rug in front of the fireplace. Claire almost laughed; they were each holding a doll.

“Come in, Maman,” Fergus said. Brianna did not look up from her doll. “Miss Nettie and Miss Winnie were getting acquainted, right ma petit?” Brianna did not respond; she kept her attention on smoothing Miss Nettie’s dress.

“That’s lovely,” Claire said, leaving the door open a crack and crossing to the fireplace. “Isn’t it kind of Fergus to play dolls with you, Brianna? Even though he’s a big boy now?” Claire sat on the rug beside Brianna. “Would you mind if I took over for him so he can go do whatever it is that big boys do?” Brianna shrugged wordlessly.

“Ah, big boy things are not as fun as Miss Winnie.” Fergus stood up, and Claire noticed how Brianna was fighting the urge to smile. Fergus kissed the top of her head. “See you at supper, ma petit.”

Fergus crossed to the door, and he jumped, not expecting Jamie to be right outside the door.

“Sorry, lad,” Jamie said.

Fergus gaped for a moment. “No, I am sorry, Milord. I did not see you.” Fergus bowed uncomfortably before disappearing down the hall. Though Jamie tried not to dwell on it, he couldn’t help but feel the sting, knowing that Claire was “Maman” and he was still “Milord.” Pushing down that disappointment, Jamie peeked into the room, seeing Claire and Brianna’s backs.

“Brianna,” Claire said, taking Miss Winnie into her arms. “I’m not angry at you.”

Brianna kept her gaze on the doll. “You’re not?”

“No, I’m not.” Brianna finally looked up at her. “Could you tell me where you got such an idea from?”

“You don’t like when I do things like Kitty and Maggie,” she said sheepishly.

“Brianna…” Claire outstretched her arms, and she crawled into her embrace. “You’ve got that entirely backwards. I love when you can do things like the other children. It makes me so happy when you get to feel like a normal little girl. But I can’t help that I worry about you. Because — ”

“Because I’m special. I know, Mummy,” Brianna said. “I don’t want to be special anymore.”

Claire sighed, rocking her back and forth. “Unfortunately, only God can decide things like that. He made you special for a reason. You know that.”

“I know.”

Claire kissed the top of her head. “I love you very much.”

“I love you, Mummy.”

“Is there anything else bothering you?”

“The giant was cross wi’ me, too.” Brianna fiddled with Miss Nettie’s skirts. “He was so mad that he broke Auntie Jenny’s pitcher. Then he was yelling at you. I heard. Before Fergus took me away.”

Claire repositioned Brianna so they were sitting on the rug facing each other. “That wasn’t a giant, Miss Brianna.” She playfully poked her nose with her pointer finger. “He’s just a very tall, mortal man.” Claire held Miss Winnie up straight in front of her, as if she were standing on the floor and talking to Brianna.

“You know, there’s someone that I would really love for Mistresses Nettie and Winnie to meet,” Claire said. “They’re looking quite bonny tonight, don't you think?”

Brianna gave a tiny giggle. “Yes.”

“Then would it be alright if someone joined us?” Brianna nodded. “Such a good girl.” Claire briefly cupped her cheek. “Alright. You have permission to join us now,” Claire said in her faux-regal voice, causing Brianna to giggle again. They both turned their heads as the door creaked open and the six foot, three inch tall “giant” entered the room.

“Good evening, lasses.” Jamie gave a deep bow, and Brianna smiled despite her nervousness at seeing him again.

“Good evening, sir.” Claire gave a small bow with her head. “Care to join us beside the fire?”

“Aye, that would be fine.” Jamie crossed the room to the fireplace and sat down. Despite the warm smile on his face, Claire could tell he was nervous.

“Allow me to introduce Miss Nettie.” Claire extended the doll’s cotton stub of a hand to Jamie, who took the hint, taking it between his thumb and pointer figure and giving it a kiss. Brianna giggled again, even louder than before. “And this is…” Claire turned to Brianna.

“Miss Winnie,” Brianna said, extending the doll’s hand, giggling again when Jamie kissed it.

“Madame Claire Fraser.” Claire held her hand out to Jamie, who took her hand with all the care and reverence in the world, and pressed a tender kiss to it.

“And you are?” Jamie said.

“Mistress Brianna Fraser.” She extended her hand, copying her mother’s elegant manner the best she could.

Jamie blanched, not having expected her to give him her hand. His eyes flashed to Claire for help, and she made a gesture with her eyebrows that told him to go on. Desperately trying to hide their trembling, he took Brianna’s wee hand in both of his enormous ones, closing his eyes as he kissed it. He rubbed the spot over with his thumb before returning her hand to her.

“He hasn’t introduced himself yet,” Brianna said pointedly.

“Brianna…”

“No, no, the lass is right, Where are my manners?” Jamie said, looking into Claire’s eyes for approval. She nodded. “My name is James Alexander Malcom Mackenzie Fraser.”

“James…Fraser,” Brianna said thoughtfully. “Mummy, that’s Da’s name.”

Jamie’s heart leapt into his throat. Da. She calls me Da.

“That’s right darling. Actually, I…we have to tell you something.” Brianna looked back and forth between the two of them silently. “Do you remember what I told you about your Da?”

“He died fighting for Scotland and Clan Fraser because he was a hero,” Brianna said proudly. “You said I have his hair and his eyes and his thick skull.” Jamie swiped at his nose to conceal the grin he broke into. “You said that he lives in Heaven with my sister Faith, and they watch over us together.”

“That’s right, I did say that. And most of it is true, darling,” Claire said, and Brianna began to look confused. “Your father did fight for Scotland and Clan Fraser, and he was a hero. You do have his hair, and his eyes, and his thick skull.” She ruffled her hair. “And you do have a big sister watching over you. But Brianna, your father isn’t in Heaven with Faith.”

“Why not?” There was a twinge of panic to her voice.

“Because he didn’t die when he fought for Scotland and Clan Fraser. There was a mistake.”

“A mistake?”

“The British Army thought your father was dead, so that’s what they told us, me, your Auntie and Uncle. So I told you that as well. But it wasn’t true, because the British Army made a mistake.”

“So Da isn’t in Heaven.”

“That’s right.”

“And he’s a great big Scottish warrior. With my hair and my eyes.” Brianna very deliberately looked at Jamie. “Just like you.” Jamie smiled. “You’re my Da, aren't you? You’re Jamie Fraser?”

“Aye, lass, it’s me,” Jamie whispered. “I’m yer Da.”

Brianna looked at Claire, then back at Jamie, then back at Claire. “It’s him, Mummy…the love of your life.”

Claire couldn’t stop the tears from spilling over. “Yes, darling. The man I’ve told you all about all these years, the man I love, and your father. He’s come back home to us.” Claire instinctually reached for Jamie’s hand, and he expertly laced their fingers together without having to look at her.

“Why did God let you out of Heaven, Da?”

“Da was never in Heaven, Brianna,” Claire said gently. “Remember? He never died. It was a mistake.”

“Then he wasn’t protecting us.”

“Aye, I was,” Jamie spoke up before Claire could answer her. “I prayed fer ye both every single day and night. I prayed to God and to the Saints to keep ye safe. And it worked, did it no’?” Brianna nodded. “So ye had protection from Heaven even wi’out me there myself.”

“What about Faith?” Brianna was becoming visibly upset. “She doesna have a Da in Heaven. Who is taking care of her?”

“Brianna, it’s alright…” Claire said, blinking back her tears. “She’s…she’s with Mother Mary. Where all the orphan angels wait for their parents to join them in Heaven. Mother Mary was a wonderful mother to Jesus, right?” Brianna nodded. “So she is a wonderful mother to Faith, too.”

Brianna’s face had visibly darkened, and she no longer seemed receptive to what they’d been saying. “Brianna, I’m sorry I told you things that weren’t true. I honestly believed them to be true when I told them to you. Do you understand?” Brianna didn’t respond. “If I knew your father was alive all along I never would have told you those things. But I didn’t know, Auntie Jenny didn’t know, Uncle Ian didn’t know. We all thought Da was in Heaven, darling. Nobody knew the truth. Do you understand?”

Brianna kept her eyes downcast, thinking silently for a moment.

“Kitty, and Maggie, and Janet, and Ian, and Jamie, and Michael’s Da is Uncle Ian. Right?”

“That’s right,” Claire answered.

“Uncle Ian lives wi’ his bairns,” Brianna said. “He was never in Heaven or anywhere else.”

Jamie and Claire exchanged a look, silently agreeing Jamie would take this one. “Brianna, I wanted to come home and live wi’ yer mam, and you, my bairn. I wanted to so, verra badly. My heart…” He put his hand over his chest. “My heart was broken every day I was no’ wi’ ye. I wanted to be at Lallybroch. Do…do ye believe me?” She shrugged. “I couldna be, because the British Army captured me. They put me in prison, so I couldnae escape and run home to my lasses.”

“Are you a thief?” Brianna asked. “The boys play jailer and thief.”

“No, I’m no’ a thief. Ye ken how yer mam said I fought fer Scotland and Clan Fraser?” She nodded. “The King of England didnae like that. So he had everyone who fought for Scotland and their clans put in prison.”

“Mummy said you’re a good man.”

“Sometimes good men go to prison.”

“Why?”

“I…I dinna ken.”

Jamie was out of answers. Claire gave his hand a squeeze.

“Brianna, do you trust me?” Claire asked. Brianna nodded. “Do you understand what it means to trust someone?” She nodded, a bit more hesitantly. “Trusting someone is…is when you believe that they are good, and you know that no matter what they would do anything to help you.”

“Of course I trust you, Mummy. When I have seizures you do anything to help me.”

“Yes, that’s right. Very good, darling.” Claire cupped her cheek, resting her hand there. “Now I…I trust this man. I believe that he is good, and I know that he would do anything for me. And he would do anything for you, too. You don’t have to trust him if you don’t want to, Brianna.” Claire squeezed Jamie’s hand as she said it, assuring him that she didn’t mean she wanted it to be that way. “I just want you to know that I trust him.”

“Okay, Mummy.” Brianna said. Claire removed her hand from her cheek.

“Right now,” Jamie began hesitantly. “I’ll settle fer being yer friend. If that’s alright wi’ ye.”

“You’re not my friend.” Claire felt her heart sink into her stomach, and she could feel Jamie’s grip on her hand tighten, almost painful. “You’re my Da.”

Both Jamie and Claire sighed in relief. “Aye, I am.”

“Kitty’s Da taught her about horses. Does that mean Fergus can’t ride with me anymore?”

“No, lass,” Jamie assured her. “Fergus is still yer brother, and ye can do whatever ye please wi’ him. I dinna wish to interfere. I can…I can watch ye ride. Does…does Kitty’s Da watch her ride?”

“Yes.”

“Then I should watch you, too. Right?”

Brianna gave a tiny smile. “Yes.”

“Good.” Jamie beamed, and Claire’s heart was fit to burst. She had never imagined a situation where she could ever be so full of love.

“Kitty gets to ride out all over Lallybroch, and she goes very fast,” Brianna said, her smile disappearing. “Mummy says I have to stay in the corral, and I can only go slow, and Fergus can’t let go.”

“You’ve ridden all over Lallybroch before,” Claire said. “With me.”

“But no’ by myself,” Brianna insisted. “Kitty gets her own horse when she rides wi’ her Da.”

“Yer mam told me you were…special,” Jamie said carefully, using the word that they had used when he was listening from the hall. “I ken it’s hard. Do ye…do ye have fun wi’ Fergus in the corral?”

She hesitated. “Yes. But I’d have more fun out of it.”

“Ah, I’m not so sure about that. The horses feel quite safe in the corral. It’s like they’re sharing their home wi’ ye. They only let verra special people in the corral, ye ken. Have ye ever seen a man thrown from his horse in the corral?” Brianna nodded. “Ah, that’s because they didna trust him. They must trust ye quite a bit, lass.” He playfully poked her nose, and she giggled. “I’d love to watch ye ride.”

She smiled. “Do the horses trust you?”

“Aye, I’d wager they do enough.”

“Then you could come in, too. With Fergus and me.”

Jamie let out a breathy laugh, and Claire could see his eyes glistening. “Only if ye want me to, lass.”

“Well I do.” She nodded curtly, as if agreeing on a business transaction. Claire chuckled. “Da?”

“What is it, lass?”

“Kitty’s Da hugs her and picks her up and kisses her,” Brianna said nervously. “Like Mummy does to me.”

“Brianna, you don’t have to do those things until you’re ready,” Claire said. “He understands that you’ve only just met.” Jamie nodded assuringly, trying to hide his disappointment.

“I am ready, Mummy.” Jamie and Claire looked at each other, realizing they had misunderstood her nervousness. She wasn’t afraid he would do those things; she was afraid that he wouldn’t.

“Do ye…” He cleared his throat, and blinked rapidly. “Do ye want me to hug you, Brianna?”

“Only if you want to.”

Claire thought briefly that she’d never heard Brianna use that particular phrase, and then quickly realized she’d picked it up just now, from Jamie.

He looked at Claire, with an indescribable expression that she’d only seen once before: the first time he’d felt Faith kicking. Claire nodded. “Go on.”

Jamie released her hand and outstretched his arms. Brianna scooted over to him on her knees and hugged him around the chest. Jamie felt like all the air from his lungs had been emptied. His hands hovered over her for a moment before he regained his senses enough to return the embrace. Lord, she was so tiny. He was reminded of how overwhelmed he’d been by Claire’s smallness the first time he’d truly held her close. But Claire was a grown woman. Brianna, his daughter, was nay but a tiny lass.

My daughter.

One of his hands moved to cup the back of her head. Through the thick layer of wild curls, her head, too, was impossibly small. He remembered holding Katherine’s head in his palm all those years ago, then seeing how big she’d become. Then he remembered what Claire had said:

“That’s how I feel every time I look at Brianna.”

He was suddenly struck with the thought of this girl ever being as tiny as baby Katherine had been, and he was overcome at the idea of never having held her when she was that small, never watching Claire nurse her, never seeing her learn to form words in her wee mouth, never watching her swing around her wee fists, learning to take her first steps…

He could not stop himself from weeping.

Claire watched him silently crying, overcome with emotion herself. She covered her mouth to stifle a sob. She reached out to stroke Jamie’s cheek, wiping away the tears that lingered there.

After taking a moment to compose himself, Jamie released Brianna. He knew he could have held her there for hours, rocked her back and forth, kissed her wee head, whispered Gaelic lullabies, but an energy-filled eight year old would not likely welcome that.

“Thank you,” he said, cupping her cheek. “Brianna.”

“You’re welcome,” she replied, chipper as ever, blissfully unaware of the emotional affect she’d had on both her parents. “Can I play now, Mummy?”

“Yes, of course. Why don’t you go find Kitty? And bring Miss Nettie and Miss Winnie.” Claire handed her the dolls.

“Alright.” She scampered for the door.

“I love you,” Claire called after her.

“Love you!” She yelled back from the hallway.

Claire turned back to Jamie, and there were fresh tears on his cheeks. “Jamie…”

“She is…” He breathed shakily. “A gift.”

“She is,” Claire agreed, taking his face in her hands.

“Thank you, fer…” He was overcome, unable to continue. Claire wrapped his arms around him, and he returned the embrace. They both wept on each other for a while, unable to express in any other way how much that had meant to both of them.

After a while, they simply held each other, silently.

“I spent eight years,” Claire began, breaking the silence. “Thanking God for her, for you to father her. I prayed…so fervently, to you. Thanking you for…for leaving a piece of you behind for me. In her.” Jamie kissed the top of her head. “She smiles in her sleep. Like you do.”

Jamie chuckled. “She speaks words of a Scot with the tongue of an Englishwoman,” he said.

“Yes. She learned to speak by listening to me, but also everyone else in your family.” Claire laughed. “It was inevitable that her speech would become somewhat of a hybrid.”

“She speaks French?” He said, remembering how she’d addressed Fergus in the parlor.

“Yes, Fergus helped me teach her.”

“Gaelic?”

“Of course. Jenny wouldn’t raise a child under this roof that didn’t know Gaelic. And certainly not a child of yours that didn’t know Gaelic.”

“She’s bright, then,” Jamie said proudly.

“Oh, yes. Brighter than I was at that age.”

“Oh, I doubt that. Ye ken she gets it from you, after all.”

“I wasn’t reading Spenser at her age,” Claire said. “I told her that there was a character in The Faerie Queene that shared her name, and she insisted on reading it. She snuck into the Laird’s library herself to get it.”

Jamie laughed. “She’s resourceful.”

“Well, that’s one way of putting it,” Claire said dryly. “That she gets from you.”

The door opened, and they sat up straight to see who it was.

“Pardon me,” Jenny said, and Claire didn’t miss the sarcasm. “Supper is ready.”

“We’ll be down shortly,” Jamie said.

Jenny smiled. “Ye ought to hear the lass. She’s going on and on to Kitty about her Da, how he’s gonnae ride horses wi’ her like Ian does wi’ Kitty.” Claire and Jamie exchanged a look. “I dinna ken how or why, what ye did to her wee noggin to make it so,” Jenny said, but they could both see the glint in her eye. “But she’s already crazy about ye.”

Jenny left, and Jamie and Claire beamed at each other. He stood up and stretched his hand down to her.

“Might I request the pleasure of your company for dinner, Madam?”

She beamed, taking his hand and allowing him to help her up. “You may.”

Once she was standing, he pulled her into a passionate kiss. Their lips parted, and arm in arm, they made their way to the dining room to eat with their family.

[wannabetwins]

White String of Hate

Summary: In which Taehee, the resident clean freak, is driven to the brink of insanity.

***

It started when he found pieces of white string on his clothes.

At first, he thought nothing of it. He had just re-organized the closets in the house. Maybe some stray cobwebs had floated into the room—nothing his duster couldn’t handle.

But then he started seeing them elsewhere. In his potted plants, the kitchen counter, the floor… And every time he mentioned it, his housemates merely shrugged it off and dismissed it as him being too much of a “clean freak”. He knew he had a tendency to be more sensitive to these things, so he let it slide, and told himself he was just thinking too much... before wiping down the surfaces till they were back to their pristine, clean state.

Still, the white strings continued to appear. He couldn’t even wear black shirts anymore without feeling irked to the bone. Even his trusty lint roller wasn’t enough to keep them at bay. "Maybe it's a lint mutation!" Hansol suggested. That was a ridiculous suggestion, of course… but Taehee did buy a new roller. Still it proved to be of little use; the pesky little strings kept coming back like scheming parasites.

By the seventh day, Taehee was beginning to question his sanity. Maybe he’d just worked too many long hours. Maybe his eyes were just tired. Maybe all he needed was a long night of sleep.

For days, the strings plagued his sight, their appearances growing more and more ridiculous. One morning, he even found it on his toothbrush. However, just like before, his housemates responded to his questions with that same indifference.

But he couldn’t get it out of his mind. The white strings consumed his every thought, and it was impossible to avoid them in the house when they seemed to have plagued every corner of his home.

There had to be a scientific explanation behind it—a sickness? But everyone was perfectly healthy. White hairs from stress-induced aging? But he was a goblin.... The others certainly didn’t seem to have developed white hairs either. He got MC to check his head on multiple occasions too, and she had assured him that he wasn’t growing any. He could only take her word for it.

What else could it be? Cobwebs? But cobwebs didn’t form so quickly after being cleaned. And they wouldn’t come in such huge numbers.

The question remained in the back of his mind as he struggled to come up with a reasonable answer, other than one involving him hallucinating. Because he wasn’t. His housemates who weren’t seeing these white strings were clearly going blind.

The last straw was when he was having his morning coffee. One of the rare times he could sit down in peace, take his time to savour the bittersweetness of his special brew. Needless to say it was one of his favourite times of the day.

Until he saw it. The thin white line of his nightmares now floating in the middle of what should’ve been delightful blackness.

Despite the sting of the heat, his fingertips pressed into the ceramic mug in a last attempt to keep his composure. But it was too late. He had reached the end of his tether, and his brain was beginning to tatter.

“Hey, clean freak,” Yooha’s usually unwelcomed voice slashed through the muddled swirl of Taehee’s angry thoughts. The latter looked up, finding the fox waving his open palm in front of him. “What’s with that face?”

“What?” Taehee rasped, brows furrowing in annoyance. He could already sense the stupid comment on his upturned lips.

“Usually, when you drink your coffee, you turn all pensive—like an old man,” Yooha shrugged. He took a casual sip of his wine. What lunatic even drank this early? “But you looked really pissed just now.”

Taehee blew out a sharp huff. If this fox knew what was good for him, he’d stay away. Anger was coursing through his veins and Taehee had been wound up too tight; he was this close to snapping.

“Oi. Kim Taehee. You okay? Why aren’t you—”

“I can’t...” Taehee mumbled through his gritted teeth.

“—drinking your coffee?”

“I CAN’T!”

Taehee’s shout echoed in the empty living room, and for the first time Yooha actually looked a little scared of him. The fox’s speechlessness made an awkward silence settle between the two as Taehee mentally berated himself for losing control over his temper like that. He had to stay calm. Be calm. Calm...

“Woah… yeah you’re definitely not okay. Wanna talk about it?”

The sound of Yooha’s voice ignited yet another spark of rage within him, and before he could do something else he would regret, Taehee grabbed his cup and emptied its tainted contents into the sink.

Yooha gaped at him expectantly, though a trace of awe and fear were still visible between his furrowed brows. He probably thought Taehee was on the verge of a mental breakdown.

Oh, God...Taehee hoped he didn’t go into one of his rambles praising his own wisdom guised as shoddy advice. Not now.

However, the goblin was saved from such torture by the soft pad of footsteps down the stairs.

“What’s going on? I heard yelling.”

MC’s voice drifted from the stairs, and soon she came into view, bed head still fresh and her eyes smaller than usual, groggy with sleep. Taehee’s heart gave a small leap in response. As usual.

And apparently, it wasn’t alone.

The fox perked up, sitting straighter in his seat and his previously lazy demeanor turning almost puppy-like.

“Ah, MC,” he said, a grin now stretching across his lips. Taehee barely held back his own smile at her presence which now whittled away at his annoyance. “Good morning! Did you dream of me?”

Taehee rolled his eyes at Yooha’s unnecessary wink. MC was equally unamused, tired as she was, though she did spare him a chuckle.

“Yeah, yeah, sure did,” she replied with a brief smile, before her attention turned to Taehee. It was strange how easily she could calm him down. Just one look from her and he felt his breathing start to slow down, and the angry, scrambled thoughts in his mind began to scatter. All that was left was a pounding in his chest as he met her concerned stare.

“Is… everything okay?”

With practised ease, the corners of his lips lifted into a smile, erasing any and all traces of irritation from his face. “Yes, everything’s fine.”

“Fine?” Yooha snorted. “This guy nearly had an aneurysm.”

“What?” MC said, her gaze once again snapping towards the goblin. His cheeks heated under the sudden scrutiny.

Feeling slightly embarrassed now at the reason behind his outburst, he waved his hand dismissively. “No, no,” he stammered. “I’m really fine. I’m just… feeling off this morning.”

The girl seemed unconvinced. Her eyes drifted to the dumped coffee in the sink, and Taehee could practically see the calculations behind her forehead.

Abruptly, MC turned to the fox. “Yooha,” she began, startling when he suddenly transported behind her back.

Taehee’s skin tingled when the man slid his arms around her waist.

“Yes, MC?” Yooha hummed.

She promptly swatted his hands away. Taehee smirked in amusement...or maybe triumph.

“Did you make him mad again?” she went on.

Yooha stumbled back in offense, hand over his chest. Dramatic…

“What? No!”

MC crossed her arms, shifting her weight to one hip. Her lips pressed into a fine line as she flayed him with a hard, interrogative stare.

Yooha let out a sharp sigh. “I didn’t! Really!”

He glanced at Taehee, no doubt to clear his name. The latter pursed his lips. Should he clear the air? Technically, Yooha did add to his frustration. His presence alone could sour Taehee’s mood considerably any day, and especially today.

In the span of silence he took to think, MC seemed to interpret it as a confirmation of Yooha’s guilt, and his sentence was passed immediately.

“Go on, apologise to Taehee. You two should make up and at least try to get along.”

“But I didn’t do anything!” Yooha argued, genuinely looking quite upset now. Even MC seemed to be surprised by his reaction.

“Master, you don’t believe me? That’s hurtful…”

And then it happened.

Like a snake, his nine tails unfurled behind him one after another, practically glowing with the blindingly white sheen of his fur.

White. Fur.

The answer had been right in front of him the whole time, the source of his nightmares for the past week right under his nose and Taehee hadn’t so much as noticed.

He should’ve known. Ever since that stupid fox materialized from that scroll, nothing and no one else in this house rattled him as much as he could.

And at this very moment, he was downright pissed.

He hadn’t even realized his outstretched hand. His tense fingers were bent into a claw, ready to strangle one of the nine hydras sweeping through the air, further tainting the cleanliness of the house with those loose strands of white.

Rage coursed through his veins, and somehow, his magic followed suit with blue fire flaring into the center of his palm. Taehee hadn’t meant to move his hand any closer to the infuriating white fur. But his fight-or-flight instincts had kicked in, and little by little, those flames licked perilously close to the thin strands until…

“OW!!”

Taehee recoiled as the sharp sound pierced his ears, his anger subsiding enough for him to return to the present moment. He saw MC’s reaction first. Her eyes were wide in shock, and her mouth was frozen in a perfect “o.”

When his gaze fell on the fox again, the tails had vanished. Yooha was storming over to him, anger etched on his usually laidback face. He looked feral.

“Did you seriously just try to burn my tails? Kim Taehee!”

Taehee knew he should apologise. Clearly he was in the wrong here. But his mouth began flapping, retorts bubbling in his throat, unable to restrain himself in front of the fox. Especially when he was the cause of this whole mess in the first place.

“Would you prefer for me to shave them clean instead? Since you’re shedding anyway.”

“You-” Yooha’s voice cut off, confusion flickering in his eyes. “What are you talking about? Me? Shedding? What do you think I am? A common dog?”

“No,” Taehee returned with more composure than he felt. “Dogs are more likeable.”

“Why, you—” Yooha began, though he stopped himself again. His fist was balled tightly at his side, but he seemed to have enough restraint to keep it there. A tense breath wisped from his lips. “Look, you’re having a bad morning. I get it. But just because MC likes my tails more than you doesn’t mean you can abuse your magic fire trick.”

Several unintelligible syllables spluttered from Taehee’s mouth.

Words...he needed to use words.

“MC doesn’t— Fire trick? You don’t—”

No, no… sentences. He needed sentences. But his brain was too muddled with his emotions, and that stupid simper on the fox’s face was only making it worse.

“Or maybe… If you wanted to touch my tail so badly, you could’ve asked.”

Taehee was about to open his mouth again when MC’s face appeared in his line of sight, blocking the fox from his view.

“Enough, both of you. It’s too early in the morning for this, let’s just stop here, okay?”

“Hey, I wasn’t the one who resorted to violence,” Yooha added stubbornly, shooting a glare in Taehee’s direction.

“It wouldn’t have gotten to this point if you would’ve cleaned after yourself,” he spat. To emphasize his point, he swiped his hand over his sleeve, sending a few tufts of white fluttering into the air.

Yooha squinted at the hair, his features once again contorting in offense. “You think that hair is mine? Is that what this is all about?”

“Think?” Taehee scoffed. “I think we all saw how much hair fell off that fur trap of yours.”

MC groaned and flopped back onto an empty chair. “Guys, can we not—”

“This,” Yooha interrupted, holding up his pinched fingers where Taehee assumed he had caught one of his hairs, “is not mine. Look how coarse and short this is! My fur is softer and longer than this—and whiter!”

“You can’t compare anything when you can barely see that hair between your fingers.”

“Maybe you can’t, since it’s obvious there’s something wrong with your eyes.”

“Oh? Let’s pluck out some of your hair and check then.”

“What? You think this is some kind of game? My tails aren’t for you to screw around with!”

“You always take them out when MC is here anyway. Like a dog wagging its tail for its master.”

“You- Did you just call me a dog again?”

“So on top of excessive shedding you can’t hear right either? Maybe it’s time to take you to a vet.”

“I told you that fur isn’t mine! I’m not shedding!”

Taehee slammed his palm onto the counter. His adrenaline was waning, and he hadn’t even had a sip of coffee. He was getting more exasperated by the second...

“Then what?” he sighed. “Do we suddenly have a cat in the house or something?”

A soft meow interrupted the growing tension between them, and both men turned to MC who was still innocently sitting at the table.

Yooha clicked his tongue, a smile unbefitting of the situation rapidly overtaking his previous scowl. “That was cute, MC, but this is serious,” he said. His palm rested against her mussed hair. “My honor is at stake here.”

“It wasn’t—”

“Yeah MC, I know you’re trying to help us but we need to work this out,” Taehee added, slapping Yooha’s hand away from her head.

She huffed and pushed both of their hands away from her face. “Guys, I said it wasn’t me.”

“Yeah.” A tuft of red hair appeared from the corner of Taehee’s eye. Biho shuffled meekly into the kitchen, and three pairs of eyes followed him curiously. “It was me.”

Yooha’s gaze shifted from Biho to Taehee, then back to the younger goblin. “You...meowed?”

The redhead’s chest heaved in a deep, forlorn sigh. He pressed a hand over his heart and shook his head. “I am deeply sorry for my actions. I didn’t intend for it to go this far.”

“What are you talking about Biho…” Taehee’s voice trailed off when they heard another meow. The younger goblin’s mouth was closed however, and the sound seemed to be coming from his head.

Was this a new power? Taehee had never seen anything like it. Hansol never mentioned anything about Biho’s new ability either.

However, the explanation for the strange occurrence soon made itself known… with its tiny, white ears peeking over Biho’s bright red hair.

Another one of his doleful sighs filled the stunned silence in the room. “I woke up and heard you guys arguing about Yooha shedding.”

“Like I said, I’m not—” Taehee slapped his hand over Yooha’s mouth to shut him up, wanting to listen to Biho instead of that annoying fox’s voice.

“I think it was actually this kitten’s fur… Sorry Taehee, I know it’s been bothering you this whole week.”

Taehee deflated half in relief and half in exhaustion. “Why didn’t you just say something earlier?”

“I was going to, but then you looked very angry about the hair, and I thought you would ask me to get rid of it.” Biho picked up the kitten from his hair and carefully placed it in his arms, cradling it like it was a baby. In return, the kitten nuzzled its face against his hoodie.

“Where did you even get it from? Did you buy it?” Yooha asked, defensively raising a hand up in case Taehee tried to physically shut him up again.

“I found it by the road on the way home,” he replied. “It was in a box all alone and it was raining. It looked like it had been abandoned, and I couldn’t leave it there like that.” His eyes drooped, his gaze turning sad as he gently stroked the kitten in his arms.

MC cooed at the explanation, joining the coddling of the little animal.

Taehee admitted it was touching...and understandable knowing Biho’s story. Still, the fur sticking to the younger goblin’s sleeve was giving him a fresh surge of anxiety.

“Biho,” he began, making sure his voice was gentle lest he upset him with what he had to say. “What you did was good. You probably saved its life, but…”

“We can’t keep it,” Yooha interrupted bluntly, earning him a slap upside the head. And it wasn’t even from Taehee this time.

“Hey,” MC hissed, casting a worried glance towards Biho.

Thankfully, the redhead seemed to expect this. Slowly, he nodded, though he cradled the kitten a little closer to his chest. “I know,” he said. “But can we keep him until we find him a home?”

Taehee opened his mouth to protest but MC held her hand up, no doubt guessing his answer.

“Of course we can,” she said. “We can post it online. I’m sure we can find someone.”

Biho shot her a grateful smile. “Could you help me with that?”

“Sure!” MC jumped up with a grin, before pausing. “Give me ten minutes. I should brush my teeth and wash my face first.”

“Okay, I’ll be in my room.”

Then the both of them left, although MC made sure to elbow Taehee in the side. He didn’t have to look at her to know what she wanted him to do next.

An awkward silence settled once more, now that it was just him and Yooha left in the kitchen. Briefly, he made eye contact with the fox, and Taehee fought the urge to roll his eyes. He doubted they would be able to make up even after this.

“Well? Don’t you have something to say?” Yooha asked with his chin up. Taehee wanted to wipe off that arrogant smirk from his face. But a wrong was a wrong, and he knew what he should do as the more mature one between them.

“Fine. The hair wasn’t yours, I’m sorry.”

“Good.”

“But it doesn’t change the fact that you shed. A lot.”

Silence. Presumably, Yooha was attempting to choose his words carefully, lest another argument broke out. He sighed heavily before speaking again. “Is this your idea of an apology?”

“I did apologise. But I also stated a fact. I clean your closet, you know. Your hairballs are disgusting.”

“I’ll have you know that my tails are amongst the most beautiful—”

“Just make sure you clean up after yourself from now on,” Taehee said, turning to leave. “Or I will personally shave you myself.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” Yooha narrowed his eyes. “A mere goblin like you? Hah.”

“Hm. But a fox like you can’t disobey its master, right? All I need is to get MC to agree to it.”

Taehee felt a sense of satisfaction when he saw Yooha’s confident smile falter. Having said his piece, he turned and left for his room, a triumphant smirk playing on his lips as he heard his name echo angrily behind him.