#was supposed to go with a friend but they left me hanging as per usual so i'm going alone!!! aaaaa

[namethat-i-oughttohavetoldyou]

Going to a gay club for the first time today. Juhu

[imaginesmai]

Right around the corner (3) - Azriel

LISTEN I CAN EXPLAIN if you've been here for a while now, you can expect this part. If not, may I present myself - hi, I'm Mai and I'm an angst queen bitch. Fourth part already on the way, don't worry!

(1), (2), (3), (4), (5)

Plot: the turth comes out, but in a way Azriel didn't expect.

Warnings: prepare tissues.

Azriel had taken his time to process the words, and in the meanwhile, he had received so many notes from his family that he had his hands full of small paper balls.

There were notes from Feyre updating him of the screaming match between Cassian and Rhysand, long texts from Mor promising him the house was a safe place for you and that he better hurry to bring you out. Even Amren had written a brief ‘I knew it, boy’ that had him more worried than before.

It wasn’t as if he didn’t want you to meet them. He loved his family like nothing else, and knew they would only be supportive and kind to his new status. Him being mated or not didn’t change the way they saw him, but part of him – the part that had felt rejection from his mother and his blood-family, was scared.

Azriel ended up sitting in the kitchen counter in front of you with a frown and a growing headache. Even though it was late and you had had a long day, you instantly noticed his mood.

“What’s wrong?”

It wasn’t unusual for Azriel to go quiet in your presence. You had learned by then that it didn’t mean you did something wrong. Most of the times, it was his insecurities popping up randomly in his mind, the troubles of the day dragging him away from you.

And through the years, you had learned that there was nothing else to do but to stay close to him and remind him that he was there. Right with you, and that you loved him.

Still, as you stared at him that night, you noticed it wasn’t the usual frown. He snuck glances at you and moved from the couch, where he was banned, to the kitchen. You left the bowl aside and stood in front of him, one arm extended so he could hold your hand.

“How do you know Feyre?” he asked, not taking your hand.

“Feyre as… the high lady?”

“Yeah. You greeted her the other day. You two know each other?”

“Guess so. She has her art study right in front of my bakery, haven’t you noticed?” you answered, not understanding the nature of the question. “When she moved in, I baked her a welcome to the neighborhood pie and she has actually painted two of the pictures I hang on the wall”

“Feyre painted pictures for you?” Azriel raised an eyebrow. “Are you two friends?”

“Well, not friends per say, but we know each other. That’s what usually happens when you work in front of someone else’s work” you shrugged, you open hand still empty. “Why?”

“I didn’t know you knew her”

“Should you know I know her? For any specific reason?”

“It would have been nice to know you know my high lady. My brother’s mate”

“Now you know. What’s with all this ‘you know I know’? Why does it matter?”

You didn’t understand why but there was an annoyed edge on his voice that you didn’t like. As a morning person, you usually went to bed early, and any minute past midnight was a minute you were supposed to be asleep. No matter how nice it was to spend time with Azriel and how good he had made you feel an hour ago, now you were annoyed.

The male stared at you, still not answering your silent call for his hand. One of his many shadows crossed the table and jumped at the chance of tangling between your fingers. That would have been enough to make you laugh any other day.

That night, you just stared at each other.

“Az, why are you so – “

“Because you should have told me, Y/N” he cut you off. “You know how important my family is to me, and I think it’s fair to ask that if you know any of them you should tell me. So I’m prepared for this”

“What’s this exactly? Late night discoveries about my neighbors?”

Azriel was quiet for a moment, frustration clear in his features. It was a stupid argument over a stupid situation, and Azriel being on his underwear and you only on his t-shirt without panties didn’t make it any less stupid. You rarely argued, and when you did, it was you who had the pointless argument and Azriel the calm one.

His shadows moved behind the couch and dumped in front of you a bunch of papers. They were all wrinkled and Azriel didn’t have time to hide them or think about how to approach the situation before a new one popped out of thin air. It landed next to your open hand, his shadow catching it and unfolding the content.

Does she eat cereal straight from the box? Is it why you’re hiding her?

You didn’t need to think hard to know it was talking about you, and who the note belonged to. In the past, Rhysand had sent notes to Azriel while you were having a shower together, in bed together, and one had even appeared inside your oven while he was helping you around.

“Feyre told them about you” Azriel explained, having read the note upside down. “And because I didn’t know you knew her, now they are deeply offended and want to meet you”

It took you a while to make sense to his words, because you couldn’t find the problem past you not telling him about Feyre. Quickly, you read some of the notes where Cassian threatened Azriel and Rhysand demanded his presence. They were friendly notes, no harm in them. Still, you couldn’t understand the utter sadness until you realized the meaning behind his annoyance.

Finally, you pulled your hand back to your side, not with little resistance from the shadow. You must have opened the bond channel because Azriel frowned, hit with sadness instead of the usual love.

The first note, where Rhysand explained that Feyre had told him, was what brought it all together.

“You haven’t told them you have a mate”

It occurred to you that you had believed it done with no proofs. You didn’t mind Azriel being at your house, living in your apartment. You didn’t mind having separate Starfall and lives. You didn’t mind either when he left for a family dinner and kissed you goodbye, because you understood his need of privacy, of having something that was just his.

What you didn’t understand until that moment that he hadn’t even told them you existed. And through all the reasons that ran to your mind at his silence, you couldn’t pick just one.

“It’s not that they don’t know me. They don’t know you’re mated”

“You agreed when I said I need to take things slowly. That I needed time” he blurted out suddenly, your sadness making space for his annoyance. “The bond was a surprise for me. I didn’t want to rush things”

“Azriel it’s been six years. Six! It’s not a casual fling or a one-night stand” you tried to voice your hurt, your sadness. “It’s not the same not meeting them that being a secret”

“It’s not like I keep you a secret. They haven’t asked and I haven’t – “

“Because you haven’t told them! What – How do you explain the days you spend here? And the… I – Azriel, we’ve been dating for six years and they haven’t asked?”

“They’re used to me sneaking around”

“For months?” you chuckled. “We were locked here for months after we mated. How did you explain that?”

His words were background noise because, above his absences, there was something you realized they should have noticed. Something anyone noticed from mated pairs as soon as they left the house. White noise filled your ears as he tried to excuse himself by talking about missions.

About your safety, about the worry of something happening to you if they discovered you were his mate.

Azriel blurred in front of you as realization hit you and tears filled your eyes. You could barely hold it together as you spoke.

“You’ve been hiding the mating bond” your breath hitched, because if there was something more important than your bakery, it was your bond. “They should have smelt it. But you’ve been hiding it”

“I didn’t hide it, please, don’t say it like that” his voice broke at the end, willing you to listen to him.

“Right. Because you can’t hide the bond from them unless you don’t accept it” you saw the moment your words hit him, the guilt in the way his shadows almost clouded your vision and his wings flared. “You didn’t accept the bond”

Azriel didn’t answer and, worse than any other betrayal or pain, it broke your heart. You remembered offering him the lemon pie, him tearing up and eating. Accepting the bond was an individual decision, one he should have made years ago – just like you did.

You still shared it; you still were mates. The only difference was that, while you proudly loved him and adored each part of his body and soul, he had rejected your smell on him, your imprint on his own.

An invisible hand cut off your air supply and your breath hitched. You covered your mouth with your hand and muffled the sob, but he felt the exact moment your heart broke. Even if he didn’t show it to the world, he could still feel you. Your feelings, your essence. His own eyes teared up and now he extended his hand forward.

A silent invitation, the same you had given him so many times when he was in need of comfort, of love.

But that time, you didn’t reach forward nor acknowledge the shadows that tried to pull you closer to him.

“Get out”

“Darling”

“Get out” you pointed a shaky finger towards the door.

“Y/N, please. It’s not what you’re thinking” he tried to explain, his voice broken by his sorrow. “I accepted the bond. I just – “

“Get the fuck out now!”

The bowl that you had been filling with lettuce, salmon and other vegetables flew from the desk to where he was standing. His shadows, by their own consciousness or his master’s, didn’t stop it as it crashed against his chest. It spilled all over his naked chest, and before he could clean it, there was another tray with grilled pork on your hand.

Azriel’s last look to you was of pure despair and sorrow. He winnowed away before the second tray could hit him, leaving you with his shadows already cleaning up the mess.

As soon as he was out of sight, you fell down to your knees and sobbed.

-

He didn’t have a plan, and when he winnowed away, the last thing on his mind was the sound of your heart breaking. There was no way he would go to his house and face his family, not when he wasn’t even sure what had happened in your apartment. Couldn’t start to comprehend the pain he had caused you and how much he hated himself for it.

So, without planning to, he ended up in the cabin.

The old wooden walls and ceiling greeted him, different from the ones he remembered from his past. Feyre had added drawings everywhere, there were clothes scattered around, and food that was still edible.

No matter how familiar the sight was, it offered him no comfort.

Azriel dragged his wings through the floor and sat on the couch. Propping his elbows on his knees, he hid his face as the first tear rolled down. Followed by many more.

He replayed your hurt voice once more, your face. It hadn’t been his intention to reject the bond, not really. But he hadn’t run away from it.

It took him two weeks of uncertainty to know that he hadn’t taken it the way you had. While you radiated with his scent, people didn’t ask him. He walked past Cassian during training and his friend just teased him for being disappeared for a month. Rhysand commented about having to report to him every now and then, and Amren didn’t even acknowledge his presence.

That was how he discovered that he had to accept his part of the mating process. He had to be proud, to want it, in order to complete it.

But you had been so happy, so full of joy and love, that Azriel had feared that telling you about it would make you sad. Eventually, he had learned how he should have done it – but at that moment, he didn’t know. Besides, he could still sneak whenever he wanted to without explanations. So he hadn’t said anything.

The first year rolled by, and he spent a good amount of days panicking about how to deal with the situation. The second year passed and you didn’t ask about it, neither did his family. By the fourth year, he had almost forgotten about it.

Azriel’s loud sob broke the silence of the cabin. His chest contracted and his body shock. It was different from any type of suffering, of pain, he had ever felt. He could still feel the echo of your own through the bond, could hear your cries in the distance.

In the lonely cabin, under the moon light, the shadowsinger sobbed and cried until his voice was raw. He was angry at himself, at his past and his traumas, even angry at you. Because now that he knew what it felt to be complete, to be happy and safe in someone’s love, he couldn’t bear the thought of not having it.

His body gravitated to the side and he curled himself in a ball, still in his underwear. It reminded him of when he was a kid and would try to hide himself in the dark cell, cowering in his fear and desperation.

As if he was a kid all over again, Azriel let his wings cover his body and cried. Cried until he couldn’t remember his name, until he was begging the Cauldron to turn back time and let him accept the bond. Carry you on his arm around Velaris and don’t let the fear take control of his life.

He felt like punching a hole through the wall. Like flying thousand feet up and letting go in free fall. Maybe get into a bar fight and let everything out. But his body was anchored to that couch, to that pain. Azriel pressed his closed fists into his chest, trying to relief some of the pressure.

While he wondered if that was what having his heart ripped from his chest fell, he forgot to keep his mental shields up.

Letting Rhysand in.

-

The house of wind had been chaos for a few hours.

Rhysand had tried to manage the situation by himself, wide awake in bed while processing Feyre’s words. He willed himself to sleep, to rest and leave the pondering for the morning. But when he tried to close his eyes, he could see Azriel covered in blood and killing an entire camp because an illegal wing clipping. He could notice the faint, new smell in the house that he hadn’t noticed.

If he had his eyes open, he couldn’t help but look at Nyx’s new toy.

So, Rhysand had woken up Cassian, after Azriel hadn’t answered his notes. And Cassian had been mad. Angry, furious, raging. The general had talked nonsense about berries for a while and then he begged Rhysand to wake up Feyre and find Azriel to interrogate them.

And, who was the high lord to deny a late-night gossiping session?

Feyre had been mad but she had told them that Azriel had a mate that worked in front of her art studio, in a bakery. That you were nice and cheerful, that you had been mated for six years.

That was when Cassian lost it and woke up the whole house.

Now, all the members of the inner circle had gathered in the council room with their pajamas on.

“Maybe it’s not true. Feyre, you might have had imagined it”

“Are you calling me a liar?” Feyre raised her eyebrows at Cassian.

“I’m just saying he would have told me! We’re brothers. And we don’t keep secrets in this house. Never.”

“You don’t keep secrets” Amren cut him off, not looking at him. “Your bean brain is too simple to keep any type of secrets from us, but that doesn’t mean all of us are exhibitionist”

“I’m not – “

“You are an exhibitionist. You announce everything, Cas. Even a fart” Mor corrected him before he could defend himself.

“Sorry for being kind enough to not keep secrets from my family” he frowned, turning to look at Rhys. “You keep secrets from me?”

“I don’t keep secrets from you” Rhys assured him, half a smile.

“He threw the sword you gifted Nyx for his birth and told you Bryaxis took it so you wouldn’t look for it”

Feyre looked at her mate with a raised eyebrow, daring him to say anything else. With a wide-awake Nyx in her arms, she looked at threatening as the Hybern army. She had yet to talk to him privately, but Rhysand knew he was up for a long talk. So he bit his lip and turned to Cassian. Who, of course, looked completely broken and defeated.

The rest of the group was silent, barely keeping their smiles to themselves. Even Nesta, who had a hand on his shoulder, was looking at Feyre with approval. Cassian stared at Rhysand for a long second before he talked.

“It was a nice sword”

“For a teenager, maybe. For a baby, not” Feyre answered again. “Weren’t you just talking about Azriel’s betrayal and secrets?”

“I, for one, knew he was hiding something” Amren commented for the third time. “Just saying I noticed. And you didn’t”

“Not all of us are creeps that stare and don’t talk. We have social lives to take care of” Mor said.

“Some of you do talk. Maybe too much”

Rhysand tuned out Amren and Mor argument when he felt a crack through Azriel’s mental barriers. He had been tugging at them softly to know where his brother was. Feyre had talked him out of the idea of barging in uninvited and demanding answers – at least, he had talked Amren and Mor out of it. Rhysand and Cassian were still unconvinced.

That was why he had kept a talon poking at his mental barriers since the argument started, thinking it wouldn’t be successful.

But then, Azriel opened it unconsciously and Rhysand brought a hand up to his chest.

Everyone fell quiet as the high lord scrunched his eyebrows and pressed his lips together, not ready for the wave of emotions and pain Azriel was feeling at the moment.

Feyre’s hand was instantly on him, Nyx looking up to his father with a pout that would surely turn into a crying session soon. Before the baby could start crying or any of his friends could ask him about it, Rhysand accepted Feyre’s help and got up from his chair.

“He’s at the cabin” he announced, already summoning his darkness to swallow Cassian and him there. “We’ll keep you updated”

Nyx’s loud cry was the last thing they heard as they winnowed away. And the first one they heard from the cabin, was Azriel’s broken one.

Want to read more? Check out my side blog @imaginesmaimasterlists, where I keep all the masterlists! Feedback is always appreciated

Right around the corner taglist:

@lesliemurillo @impossibelle @polli05927 @florencemtrash @going-through-shit @minakay @setayeshmohseni @torchbearerkyle @esposadomd @amysangel @kennedy-brooke @originalcrusadetrash @luvmoo @historygeekqueen @marriedtolike18fictionalmen @wallacewillow0773638 @tothestarsandwhateverend @kristalhi @knmendiola @nikt-wazny-y

[yankstrash]

Can you do a rutger where your like a fantilli sister and you guys get caught like making out and it’s just chaos

request for anon :) i hope you like it !!!!

Sneaking around behind your brothers backs with one of their teammates was NOT something you were planning on doing when you got to UMich. Yet here you were, at 11 pm, straddling Rutger McGroarty in his dorm room.

You and Rutger met at a hockey party after a game one night, and the rest is history. You both immediately took interest to each other, and after weeks of sneaking around, you made it official.

Unfortunately, making it official didn't stop the sneaking around. Being the youngest sibling, your brothers have always been very protective over you, and have always made it a point to tell their teammates that their little sister was OFF limits.

Rutger was very close with both Adam and Luca, so he felt very guilty about hiding his relationship with their little sister, but what was he supposed to do? He couldn't help how he felt about you, but he also didn't want to lose his friendship with your brothers.

In the end, sneaking around was your best option.

You and Rutger had been hanging out in his dorm for most of the night seeing as Johnny was out and wouldn't be back till late. You started out watching a movie, but per usual, got distracted.

The two of you were in a heated make out, you straddling his waist as his hands roamed up your shirt, signaling that he wanted it off. Just as you were about to reach down and pull it off, you heard the dorm room door opening.

You both immediately pulled away to be met with the eyes of Johnny.

Ok, it's just Johnny. He won't snitch.

Unfortunately, trailing not far behind him were both of your brothers.

All five pairs of eyes now in the room immediately went wide as they realized what was happening.

"WHAT THE FUCK?" Luca yelled the second he got a glimpse of you on top of Rutger.

You immediately climbed off of his lap and hopped off the bed. Not that that would do you any good now.

"What the actual fuck?" Luca said again.

You weren't sure what to say. You had planned out what to say if Luca and Adam ever did find out about you and Rutger, but now that it's actually happening all thoughts have left your brain.

"Someone better start talking, and NOW." Luca said, his voice getting louder each time he spoke.

You opened your mouth to speak, but no words came out. You were not expecting this moment at all, and you were at a loss for words.

"You're so fucking dead." Luca said as he took a step towards Rutger, but your instincts kicked in just in time as you stepped in front of him.

"Luca, stop!" You said as you held your hand against your brothers chest.

"Fuck off Y/n! I just walked in to see my baby sister and my BEST FRIEND making out?" Luca says, still trying to move past you but you won't budge.

"I'm just going to wait out here and let you guys deal with this..." Johnny said as he walked out of the room and closed the door.

"One of you better start talking RIGHT NOW!" Adam said from behind Luca, his arms crossed over his chest.

You sighed as you looked back at Rutger. Well, there was no point in lying now.

"Rut and I are dating." You said as you looked down.

"You're WHAT?" Both of your brothers yelled in unison.

"Oh get OVER IT! So what if he's your teammate, I like him, a LOT. I'm allowed to be with who I want to be with and you guys have NO say in that. I'm sick and tired of the two of you hovering over me and who I talk to all the time. It is SUFFOCATING! If i wanted you two to act like my parents 24/7 I would've kept living at home with mom and dad." You yelled at your brothers.

It actually felt quite good to let out. In a way, you felt like a huge weight had been lifted off your shoulders.

"He's not just our teammate, he's one of our best friends. I can't believe you two would sneak around behind our backs!" Luca said.

"What were we supposed to do?! Tell you?! You still would've flipped out and tried to break us up! Sneaking around was literally our only option. You made it our only option." You spat back.

"I hated hiding it from you guys, but Y/n is right, you guys didn't really leave us a choice." Rutger said from behind you.

As soon as he spoke up, Luca's eyes darted right to him.

Finally moving you out of the way, Luca walked right up to Rutger and placed a finger on his chest.

"You are fucking dead to me." He said, then turned around and stormed out of the room, slamming the door shut in the process.

[mendeshoney]

take me back to eden (part 1/2)

A/N: well I had an idea about andrei and as per usual @pyotrkochetkov​ @smileysvech​ bullied supported me until it was finished. as you can see, this story is going to be posted in two parts, so keep your eyes peeled! title is from “take me back to eden” by sleep token

Summary: Andrei’s retired, Assistant GM of the Carolina Hurricanes, and a little lonely, so he decides to be a little like Edward Lewis. 

Pairing: andrei svechnikov x f!reader

Part 1 Word Count: 22,144

Warnings: nine year age gap, older man x younger woman, basically “pretty woman” with andrei, love at first sight(Ish), he falls first, she falls too, he falls harder, sugar daddy vibes, angst, fluff, smut, penetration, finish inside, unprotected sex

September

The Premiere Suite at The Mark Hotel.

So…this was it. 

Immediately after swiping the key card and letting himself into the suite, he goes about unpacking. Quickly, he puts his belongings away in the bedroom of the suite, before moving back into the living area, heart pounding with every step.

He’d bought a bouquet of red roses along with a crimson red vase, and he stores the vase in a cabinet in the little kitchen first. He moves further into the room, setting the roses on the coffee table before grabbing the ice bucket and heading down the hall to fill it. When he gets back, he places a bottle of champagne in the ice bucket, and rests it beside the roses, accompanying it by placing two champagne glasses down next to the bucket. 

He heads back into his room, pulling out the little blue box from Tiffany’s in his leather duffle bag, tucking the box into the pockets of his pants, then heads back into the living area, examining the space.

This was enough, right?

Enough to prove that either he wasn’t new to this (which he was) or that he was capable of being a gentleman (jury’s still out), he wasn’t sure.

He’d never done this before, never had to, never needed to, and never thought to.

At thirty two, officially retired from hockey and now serving as Assistant General Manager of the Carolina Hurricanes, Andrei had his fair share of ex girlfriends, previous one night stands, former friends with benefits, and the like in his youth. He’d thought he’d been close to true love once before, but that crashed and burned in flames before he even realized he was standing in the ashes of the aftermath.

Too focused, he’d been told. He was too focused on hockey, on this sport, and it wasn’t enough, so she left. And now, he couldn’t exactly deny that she had been wrong.

Lately, he was far too busy and much less interested in anything other than working to even consider the possibility of anything more. Working for the team that had given him the chance to live out his childhood dreams was where his heart, mind, body, and soul were focused, and he poured his all into it every day.

But sometimes, some days, he could admit to himself that as much as he liked being alone, he did feel lonely in the quiet corners of his office and in the solitude of his bedroom. 

“You need a Pretty Woman,” his brother had told him almost a month ago.

“A what?” He remembers saying, balancing his phone between his shoulder and ear as he typed out an email.

“You know the movie? With Julia Roberts?” Evgeny said, as if that was supposed to mean something to Andrei. “The one mom used to watch all of the time.”

“The prostitution one?” He said, vaguely recalling it now. He mainly remembers trying to make as much noise as possible with Evgeny so his mother would relent and allow them to change the channel to watch cartoons or hockey.

“Da,” his brother had said, “It could be discreet, maybe a little more your pace.”

Andrei had all but rolled his eyes and shot it down, calling his brother an idiot before confirming that he’d be home for the holidays and hanging up.

Then two days later, he was out to dinner with a few of the players on the roster during a preseason dinner, and overheard a couple of veteran players on the team chatting with a newer player about helping him find a date to their eventual Canes Bash, the renamed organizational casino night. 

“It’s worth a shot,” one of the veterans, Mason, had said. “You said you’re out of options, that’s an option.”

The newcomer, Eli, looked extremely skeptical. “But isn’t that like…illegal? It’s basically prostitution.”

The veteran players had shushed him, leaning in closer and lowering their voices even though Andrei could still hear them. 

Eli was sitting to his immediate right, for fuck’s sake.

“It’s an escort service.” The other veteran, Olly said from his spot across from Eli. “They’re based out of Manhattan but have employees all over the country. They serve high profiled clients and work with the utmost scrutiny. You have to submit pay stubs to even prove you can afford one of their employees and both parties are required to sign an NDA.”

“Why does it sound like you’ve ripped that right from their website?” The rookie questioned, skepticism still present in his tone.

“Because maybe we’ve used it once or twice,” Mason shrugged. 

“You have?” Eli asked, and Andrei could tell he was starting to slowly lean into the idea.

“It’s simple,” Olly assured him. “When you register yourself on the website, you fill out an application and basically create an account with them. You have to sign the NDA before your account can be official. Then you submit your pay stubs and a copy of your ID or passport. If those clear, then they do a thorough background check on you, more thorough than a government job, even, and if you pass the background check, they send you a questionnaire to fill out that helps them understand what you’re looking for, but it also lets them know if they’re the service you’re looking for, or if you should take your interests elsewhere.”

“Yeah,” Mason chimed in. “If they believe they can help you, they ask for your availability where you’d like to meet, and then once you pick a city, day, and time, they set up a meeting place, all expenses paid by the service. It’s like a consultation.”

“What about the girl?” Eli asked. “Do I get to pick her?”

“They select them for you based on your questionnaire answers.” Mason said, “But they’ve never set us up with a bad pick.”

“Yeah,” Olly chimed in, smirking. “Remember the blonde bombshell I brought to the team Christmas party last year?”

Eli’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head. “She was an escort?!”

Olly and Mason shushed Eli once more, though no one else at the dinner table seemed to have been paying any attention to them.

Hockey players have certainly heard, and discussed, far weirder and far worse.

“Did you just watch ‘Pretty Woman,’?” Andrei had teased, and laughed at the stricken expressions on Mason, Olly, and Eli’s faces.

“Uh yeah,” Mason had said nervously. “It’s a classic.” 

Andrei nodded, “It is, it’s a great movie.” Then turned his body as if he was tuning into the conversation the head office was having to his left.

To be fair, he should technically be involved in this conversation anyway, since it is his job, but instead, for some reason, he keeps an ear trained on the rest of what the boys to his right are saying.

“Look, do you wanna go for it or not?” Mason asked, “If you do, I can send you a referral link, or you can just use my name when you apply. It speeds up the time between application and your first meeting.”

Eli made a hesitant noise. “I don’t know. What if I don’t like the girl they picked? I can’t bring a weirdo to the Canes Bash.” 

“That’s what the initial meeting is for.” Olly explained. “The consultation, remember? First visit is free, and then the only payments you have to worry about are for bookings once you get to the first date and beyond. If you like the girl, you tell her what you need her for, and if she agrees to work with you, you book everything moving forward through the website. That way you’re not spending money up front.”

“It’s no strings attached before you even solidify anything.” Mason said, then nudged Eli. “So what do you think? Are you in or what?”

There was a pause, and Andrei sensed Eli’s lingering hesitation, but still, the rookie persisted and said, “Yeah, why not? Fuck it. I’ll do it. What’s this thing called again?”

“Daughters of Aphrodite,” Olly said with a dreamy air to his tone. “Unofficially, that is. Aptly named, but it would obviously raise some eyebrows. So officially, their business name is Eden.”

That night, after Andrei went home, he found himself opening up his laptop as he lounged in bed, looking up “Daughters of Aphrodite” online. He’d found nothing but tellings and retellings of the goddess of love, so he took a chance and searched up “Eden” instead.

Sure enough, there it was. He hesitated all of two seconds before clicking into the website, and didn’t think twice about filling out the application. True to Mason and Olly’s word, he had to sign an NDA before his account could be created, and submit a copy of six months worth of paystubs, his identification, fill out paperwork to commit to and then actually go for STD testing, and when they asked if he’d been referred to the service by anyone to expedite his application process, he listed Olly’s name, figuring Mason probably would’ve lent his referral to Eli instead.

And now, three weeks later, here he was.

In Manhattan, at one of the most expensive hotels in the city, moving into a suite for the weekend.

About to have a consultation…with an escort.

If the consultation went well, his plan was to take this person to a nice dinner, and maybe go out for drinks afterward. Eden had footed the bill and booked the suite for the weekend in case they decided on other activities, but Andrei wasn’t going to hold his breath.

He still wasn’t sure if he was going to stick around, let alone if this other person would be interested.

As he looked around at his little set up, part of him felt like maybe this was too much, but he couldn’t just show up here with nothing. They had his pay stubs, knew his income, knew he was a high profile client using their services for a reason.

Sugar daddy. 

That was one of the things on his questionnaire, asking if that’s what he was looking to be. 

He hadn’t said yes, but surely it wouldn’t be inappropriate to provide his incoming date with…well, some sugar.

Besides, it was just roses, champagne, and the diamond tennis bracelet from Tiffany’s sitting in his pocket. 

Before he could start pacing, Andrei removed his tie and his blazer, resting it over the back of the chair at the desk in the room before loosening the top few buttons on his dress shirt, then unbuttoning and rolling the sleeves up to his elbows. He raided the mini bar, pouring himself a shot of vodka, downing it, then pouring another larger serving, one he could sip at to calm his nerves.

He sat in the lounge chair, scrolling through his email to re-read the instructions one more time.

“...after checking into your hotel and arriving at your room, feel free to take your time settling in and getting comfortable. Once you’re ready, please text the code “5683” to the following number, and we will notify your date for the evening that you’re ready for them. They should arrive no later than twenty minutes after you send the directed code.”

Andrei felt a sweat start to break out on his back.

He texted the code not long after he finished unpacking, which was about ten minutes ago.

She could get here at any time, and it wasn’t until Andrei realized that, that he began to panic a little.

He had no idea what this woman would look like, no idea how old she was. He said he wouldn’t agree to anything more than a couple years older than him, and nothing more than ten years younger than him, so he knew she was somewhere in that range. 

But what if she wasn’t his type? What if he wasn’t her type? Even if he was a client, Eden made it clear that the girls were in control, that they had the agency, so what if she decided to break it off the second she saw his face? What if there was no chemistry? What if -

A soft pattern of three knocks on the door broke him from his thoughts, and he cursed to himself. 

She’s here.

Resting his glass on the side table near his chair, he gets up, strolling to the door and checking his appearance in the mirror before answering.

Not his best, but not his worst.

It’s a consult. He reminds himself. Doesn’t have to be anything more.

He takes a deep breath, flipping the deadbolt and twisting the handle, breath caught in his lungs as he opens the door and -

And…

And…

Fuck.

Oh fuck.

This…this is…

It has to be a joke.

There’s no way a woman this beautiful, a woman this perfect, is working for a service like this.

Now he understood why Olly got so dreamy when he said the service was called “Daughters of Aphrodite.” 

Because if this woman were anything other than a demi-god, daughter to the most beautiful creature in the world, he would surely think he was living in an alternate reality.

Fuck, the woman in front of him could be Aphrodite for all he cared.

God damn, ona krasivaya. She is beautiful. 

She should be on a throne somewhere, modeling on a beach, walking a runway, hell, in a house baking cookies for her husband and children because…because…

This woman should be someone’s wife. Someone’s girlfriend. Someone’s partner. 

Not an escort here in a ritzy hotel suite with him.

“Um…hi. Andrei, right?” 

He blinks.

God and her voice.

Your voice.

You.

Your…everything. 

No, it’s you’re, definitely you’re, because you are everything. 

“Shit,” Andrei hears you curse under your breath. “Um, ty Andrei Svechnikov? Vy govorite po-angliyski?”

He blinks again, like an idiot, because wow he was not expecting that, and now he’s harder than a rock in his dress pants. Granted, your pronunciation isn’t the best, but it’s damn near perfect, and he crumbles. 

“Yeah,” he hears himself say, mentally patting himself on the back for not letting his voice crack, “It’s me. I’m Andrei.”

You smile softly at him and he feels like his heart just jumps right out of his chest and lands at your feet, screaming “take me love me accept me please.”

“Hi,” you say. “It’s nice to meet you. Is now still a good time?”

He nods, too dumbstruck to say anything else. His whole body buzzes in response the more you speak to him, and he swears any second now a flying baby in a diaper is going to swoop in and stab him in the butt.

“Yeah,” he says after a second. “Now is still good.”

“Oh okay,” you say, nodding slightly. Then, when he doesn’t move, a soft laugh leaves your lips, a laugh that he swears sounds like little bells, and you tilt your head to the side. “May I come in?”

Idiot.

He laughs too, hoping it doesn’t sound too nervous, and nods, stepping to the side. “Yes yes, I’m sorry, please come in.”

You cross the threshold, passing by him and he gets a whiff of your perfume, the breeze left in your wake chilling him to the bone.

“Almaznyy,” he hears himself whisper, watching you wander further into the suite. 

Diamond. 

A living and breathing diamond.

He swears a string of curses to himself as he shuts the door behind him and flips the deadbolt, then thinks better of it and flips it back. No one else but him has the key to this room, and he doesn’t want you to think by flipping the deadbolt that you’re trapped here.

Although, he wouldn’t mind if you trapped him in here.

He follows after you, finds you staring at a photograph blown onto canvas on the wall just shy of the coffee table.

The coffee table currently holding your roses. 

Shit.

He rushes to the table, grabbing the bouquet and turning towards you. He catches the way your eyes roam over the canvas, over the flowers and shadows, and he smiles a little.

“Interested in art?”

You shrug absently with a hum, your eyes still locked on the photograph, a fond and knowing look on your face. “Somewhat. My mom used to paint, and my brother got me into art as well.” Your body turns toward him first, followed by your head as you say “I’m not quite as good, but I dr- oh.”

You pause, smiling widely at the roses in his hand, and Andrei takes a chance, stepping closer and eliminating some of the distance between you two. “These are for you,” he says, “As a thank you.”

“They’re beautiful,” you say with an awestruck smile, taking them and cradling the bouquet in your arms. “Thank you.”

This image of you would be seared into his brain for the rest of his life, he swears. 

“I have a vase for you to put them in, if you’d like.” He offers. 

“How considerate,” you say. It sounds teasing, but the smile on your face is sincere. He holds out his hand, nearly regretting it when you blink at it for a second, before your hand lands in his and - 

The electric bolt that runs up his arm when he finally touches you can’t be a coincidence.

Especially not when he looks at you, wondering if you felt it too, and judging by the shy look that suddenly crosses your features, you definitely did.

Not only that, but fucking hell your skin is soft.

So soft, better than silk or velvet. 

He has to contain his excitement when he laces your fingers together, and you give him a reassuring squeeze as he leads you to the kitchen. He pulls the vase out of the cabinet and starts to fill it with a little water at the sink while you lay the roses down, gently removing the twine and then the brown packaging from around it.

Andrei finds himself quickly reaching for your hands after putting the vase down on the counter, not wanting you to prick yourself on any thorns. 

“Let me please, almaznyy,” he says. You smile, eyebrow raised in confusion at what he’s called you - and god if he was going to survive this night he’d have to work to not make you do that as often - but you don’t move at all when he comes up behind you, keeping an inch between your bodies, arms on either side as he works the roses apart, inspecting the stems for thorns.

He didn’t pay anything astronomical for them, but they were a rare type of crimson red rose, and he paid enough to hope that they didn’t have thorns on them. 

Thankfully, they didn’t. When he raises his hand to lift a couple into the vase, yours move to grab a couple of more. Together, the both of you arrange the two dozen roses into the vase, and almost naturally, you let out a happy little sigh as you relax backward, body gently pressing against his.

It’s a ghost of a touch, but he can tell you fit perfectly against one another.

“They really are beautiful,” you say, then turn your head to look up at him, lips curving into another brilliant smile. “Spasibo.”

His heart spasms. 

That was five.

Five smiles in the span of about five minutes.

He was prouder of that than he was any record he set during his career.

With a smile of his own, he takes a step back, watching you turn and lean against the counter a little, and holds out his hand once more. This time you take it without a second thought, and follow him as he leads you over to the couch.

You both sit next to one another, you sitting a little sideways to face him, and he gestures to the champagne. “Would you like some?”

“Sure,” you say, and now all Andrei wants to do - on top of making you smile - is keep you talking.

He needs to hear more of that pretty voice like it’s the last he’ll ever hear on this earth.

As he expertly pops the top and begins to pour a glass, he asks “How old are you?”

It’s a jump from the first question - or questions -  he wanted to ask, the main one being “What is your name?” which he was told explicitly in his instructions email that he was not allowed to ask. 

The Daughters of Aphrodite could only offer their names to the clients if they decided that they wanted to - or if their clients had earned it - and the clients could not ask under any circumstances. It was part of the point that the women held the agency here. 

His other questions fell along the lines of “Are you married?” and “If you’re not married, are you available for a summer wedding next June?” Both of which he also did not ask.

He’d get the answer to all three eventually…he hoped.

“I’m twenty three,” you respond, accepting the flute of champagne from him. “My birthday was a couple of days ago.”

His heart hammers in his chest. 

Nine years. 

She’s nine years younger than you, his brain screams.

Eden sure cut it close with this one.

“Happy belated birthday,” Andrei says, turning a little in his seat to face you. As he does, the corner of the jewelry box in his pocket pokes his thigh. He reaches into it without a second thought, relieved when he brings it out and sees that the little white bow is still in excellent condition as he holds it out to you. 

“I didn’t know it was your birthday, obviously,” he begins, “But I saw this and wanted to buy it for you, so maybe it was meant to be.”

He winces internally at his choice of words, but then a bashful smile breaks out on your face, and you place your champagne flute down on the coffee table, taking the gift with gentle fingers.

Six smiles! 

Hell yes.

You pause before pulling the bow, looking up at Andrei with a little furrow in your brow.

His heart kicks in his chest, demanding to be let out, demanding to comfort you and ease whatever just made you pull that face. “What is it?”

“This is just awfully nice of you, and I didn’t get you anything.”

Two things run through his mind in that second and he’s blurting them both out before he can stop himself or think of any consequences. “I wanted to, you deserve it. And I don’t need anything in return.” then “Your other clients don’t get you anything?”

You fucking idiot. He curses himself. He didn’t even think of the fact that you’ve probably had other clients, that you’ve been around other men, and his blood starts to simmer, this unexpected feeling of jealousy twisting his stomach uncomfortably. 

But you don’t even blink, just shrug your pretty shoulders and say “Not really, no. Well, not at first maybe, not at the consultation.”

Okay.

He was not going to think about the fact that other men had gotten to have a consultation with you or that some had also made it past the consultation with you. He was not going to picture a beautiful being like you entertaining the likes of fuckers like Mason, or Olly, or Eli.

God.

What if you’d been with them? What if you knew Mason or Olly? What if Eli had already applied and maybe even gotten a consultation before Andrei could have? What if you had a consultation scheduled with Eli next? What if -

“And they usually don’t get me roses,” you add softly, fingers still brushing against the bow. 

“Then they’re idiots.” He deadpans.

You lift your head up at that, blinking at him, and he worries he may have upset you, but then you laugh, a little loud, melodic and sudden, and his heart soars.

“Open it,” he says gently, gesturing to the box with his chin. 

Your fingers finally pull the bow off and gently lift the lid, removing the carefully folded tissue paper to reveal the tennis bracelet nestled inside. 

It’s a platinum bracelet, designed to resemble vines curling around the wrist when fastened. Within the leaves on the vine are round brilliant and marquise diamonds, though he doesn’t think they can hold a candle to you. 

His actual diamond.

Almaznyy.

Almost as if the marquise diamonds can hear him, they twinkle a little in the light in protest at him when you manage to lift the bracelet from its little cushion.

He thought it was fitting - vines, Eden, garden of Eden.

Oh god, now he thought it was stupid.

Why would he think getting you a bracelet reminding you of your employment was a good idea?

“Oh, Andrei,” you coo.

And god if he doesn’t fall in love with you right then just based on the way you say his fucking name.

“Do you like it?” He asks.

You nod emphatically, looking up at him. You look a little dazed, the disbelief present in your eyes. “I love it, it’s beautiful. Would you help me put it on?”

“Of course, almaznyy,” he murmurs, reaching forward to take the jewelry from your hand. You hold your wrist out, and with nimble fingers he secures the bracelet to your wrist. He indulges himself a little by letting his fingers graze along the skin, before grabbing your hand again, lacing your fingers together and resting them on the couch cushion between you. 

“It looks beautiful on you,” he says truthfully, eyeing the way the bracelet sits on your wrist, how it looks so perfect next to his rolex, and how they punctuate your joined hands. 

“It fits like a glove.” You say, voice full of wonder. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like it in my life.”

The boost to his ego is instantaneous and he can’t help the smirk that crosses his lips before he smothers it with a smile. “I’m glad you like it.”

You smile, seven, eyes looking him over for a second. “Is that what you need me for? Someone to shower with roses and pretty jewelry?” There’s a teasing lilt to your voice, and Andrei feels himself go red.

For a second he managed to forget about the circumstances surrounding your presence. For a second, he managed to convince himself this was your third date. For a second, he managed to convince himself you already belonged to him.

Not in a nefarious way. People never belonged to other people, he always believed that. 

But god dammit if he didn’t already belong to you. 

“I um,” he fumbles, doesn’t really know what to say.

You scoot closer, unlacing your fingers and resting your hand on his arm in a comforting gesture. “It’s okay, Andrei. I’m here for a reason, aren’t I? I just want to help.”

Well fuck.

Now he doesn’t want to tell you. How can he possibly tell you he overheard players on a team he’s supposed to be helping to manage talk about your company? And how could he say that he figured it would be a good quick fix to ease the loneliness he felt some days? 

Especially on the days when he realized most of his friends and former teammates were either getting married, already married, some with kids, and he still felt like he was lost in the ocean, treading water for some unknown reason, and that as much as he wanted that all for himself, he just didn’t have the time?

“If it helps,” you offer, “I can kind of guess.”

Andrei blinks. “You can?”

You nod, suddenly growing a little shy as you admit “I kind of Googled you?”

He laughs then, the small tension that had built in the room starting to break. “Oh? Find anything interesting?”

You smirk, dragging your hand down his arm and lacing your fingers back together. “I did. Admittedly I don’t do it with all of my clients, but your name sounded familiar, so I looked you up.”

“And?” He teases, leaning in a little. “Do I live up to Google’s expectations?”

You snort a little - so fucking cute - and a small smile graces your lips again as you try to find the right words to say.

Eight. Fuck yeah.

“You’re a busy man,” you begin, looking down at your joined hands. “You’ve got a lot on your plate. You might not be the general manager, but you’re someone that your organization trusts, and that puts you in a precarious position. Because you can speak to and for the team, and be the middleman between them and your administration in a way that hasn’t been there for them before. The team is your life, you spent your whole career there, so it’s understandable, but that doesn’t leave you much room for anything else. That must be pretty lonely for you.”

Andrei’s dazed, and a little fucking pissed that the most he’s heard you talk this evening is because you’re talking about him, and he makes a mental note with himself to change that as soon as possible. 

“You need company.” You finish, rubbing your thumb in comforting circles on the back of his hand, and Andrei feels the anxiety begin to seep out of his body. “I’m happy to give that to you, Andrei. Whatever that may look like.”

His eyes coast up to your face, skepticism in his gut, but your face is completely sincere, not a sliver of doubt or humor. He swallows, nodding. Instead of confirming your suspicions, he turns your hands around, rubbing his thumb on the back of your hand now. “And you? What do you need?”

You blink at him. “Me?”

He nods again, “Yeah you, almaznyy. What made you want to do this?”

“Eden?” You clarify, and Andrei nods again, squeezing your hand gently. “Well, as you can probably imagine, it’s good money. It helped put me through college, since I was putting myself through school. I actually stopped once I graduated. I put most of what I earned into savings, and thought that would be enough to live a normal life while I worked a normal job. And I had that for a few months. But then I…” your voice trails off and your brow furrows again, like you’re trying to figure out how much to say.

You can tell me everything. He wants to tell you. I won’t judge, I just want to know. 

“I decided I wanted something different,” you finally say. “Something more, so I came back to Eden. They welcomed me back, and now they’re helping me make sure I get what I want.” 

“What is it that you want?” He asks.

You shrug. “What does anyone want these days?”

It’s cryptic, and Andrei doesn’t pry any further, no matter how badly he may want to. Instead, he squeezes your hand and asks “Well, what do you need from me?”

You raise a brow, surprised by his question. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, how can I help you? To get your something different?”

You smile a little, but it’s not like the others, so he doesn’t add it to the count. This one is more…considering. Like you’re assessing if the sincerity in his voice is actually there, or if he’s just playing his part. “You already are,” you eventually say. 

He watches as your eyes continue to examine his face, looking for…well, he doesn’t know exactly. But he’s content to sit there and let you do whatever you want. As far as he’s concerned, you can do whatever you want. And he also uses the opportunity to etch you into his memory, every inch of you, just in case. 

“But this is for me,” he says after a moment.

“I know,” you murmur with a smile before casting your eyes down to your joined hands. “And it helps.”

Nine. 

He swallows. “Are you lonely too?”

You purse your lips, shrugging. “Isn’t everyone?”

Cryptic again, but then you’re looking up at him, and there’s this…it sounds cliché, but there’s this twinkle in your eye, and he feels his pulse skyrocket in his veins. 

“Why the gifts, Andrei?” 

He feels his heart sigh dreamily when you say his name. “What?”

You gesture down to the bracelet on your wrist with your eyes, before flicking them back up to his face. “The bracelet, the roses. I love them, don’t get me wrong. But…why?”

Andrei shrugs. “It felt…” he searches for the right words. “Appropriate. I don’t know.”

There’s a look of consideration on your face. “You’ve never done this before, have you?”

He shakes his head, suddenly…shy. He’s immediately transported back to his first year as a rookie, how uncertain everything seemed, and how lost he felt more often than not. He remembers stumbling through English, feeling awkward trying to get to know his teammates and make friends, to get people to like him.

He wants you to like him. 

He knows in his gut he’s pretty much got a crush on you at this point, which is insane, considering you met…maybe twenty minutes ago? Thirty?

And he doesn’t really know how these things are supposed to go…at all. When he tells you as much, you giggle a little, squeezing his hand. “That’s okay, we can take this slow.”

He nods. “Slow is good.” Then, “How about dinner? Would you like to have dinner with me?”

A dazzling smile crosses your features before you say “I’d love to go to dinner with you,” and he beams. 

Ten. Ten smiles and dinner. Hell yeah.

~

October

Andrei glances down at his phone, smiling at yet another picture of Luka, Evgeny’s newborn baby boy and his second child. He was born a few days ago, but given Andrei’s duties with the team, he couldn’t be there for Evgeny and Sara. 

He’d sent presents of course, and his mother had taken the liberty of sending Andrei hundreds of photos so far, and Evgeny clearly felt comfortable following in their mother’s footsteps, sending Andrei at least twenty pictures a day. 

Evgeny was just as bad when Mila, his two year old daughter, was born. Photos every day that eventually dwindled down to weekly, then monthly as she got older.

In the photo Evgeny had just sent, Luka’s chubby newborn body was swaddled in a blanket and donning the light yellow baby hat Andrei had sent them. 

Andrei: Milyy i tolstyy

Cute and fat.

Evegeny sends back an angry face emoji.

Evgeny: Ne nazyvay moyego rebenka tolstym

Don’t call my baby fat

Evgeny: pridurok

Dickhead.

He chuckles to himself before pocketing his phone, casting his eyes back up. 

He watches from the stands as the players skate down the ice, running through drills in preparation for the first home game of the season later this week. Right after that, they were immediately on the road, heading to play the Rangers over the weekend.

A weekend where he’d get to see you.

He grabs his coffee cup from the holder in front of him, taking a large sip as he catalogs every player, assessing for strengths, weaknesses, who needs help, who can work on what. He looks for the holes in their plays, looks for the ways they can improve, looks for anything and everything that the team needs.

“Skyler’s looking good,” Andrei notes. “Role of ‘Captain’ suits him.”

From beside him, sipping on his own coffee, Coach Brind’Amour nods. “Yeah, he’s enjoying it.”

Technically, he’s not Coach Brind’Amour anymore.

These days, he’s the General Manager, but Andrei’s known him too long and respects him too much to call him anything but ‘Coach.’

Skyler, Coach’s son, is about the same age as Andrei, but started with the Canes a few years into Andrei’s career. The two of them became quite close, but whereas Skyler’s career continued, Andrei’s had to stop. 

There wasn’t anything he could do about it now.

“What are you seeing?” Coach asks him, gesturing to the ice.

Andrei smiles a little. “Probably the same thing you are.”

“They’re a good team, need a little more work.” Coach confirms.

Andrei hums a little. “They’ll be ready.”

They both eye the banners in the rafters. 

2024 Stanley Cup Champions. 

2027 Stanley Cup Champions. 

2032 Stanley Cup Champions.

The last one makes Andrei feel a little bittersweet, and he tears his eyes away.

“They can do it again,” Andrei confirms. “We made sure the additions to the team would see to that, not prevent it.”

“Now you sound like me,” Coach teases. 

Andrei laughs, and shrugs. “You were right most of the time.”

“Most?!” Coach cries, incredulous. He shoves Andrei playfully, and they share another laugh before directing their eyes back to the ice. 

They watch the rest of practice relatively quietly, a few other people coming to sit with them now and again as practice goes on, talking to them about upcoming meetings, home opener preparations, player contracts, the list goes on.

Andrei contributes his opinion when he can and when asked, still getting used to his new role. A couple of times, Coach shouts something down the stands so the new head coach or the captain can hear, and even encourages - and manages to convince Andrei - to do it once as well, noting a spot that needs work with a couple of the defensive pairs.

After practice, he and Coach head into the locker rooms to talk to the new head coach and give the players some words of encouragement. 

At one point, he notices Olly looking at him from out of the corner of his eye, and when Andrei spares a glance at him, Olly looks away, almost like he didn’t think he’d be caught.

Strange.

On the way out, Andrei tells Coach he’ll catch up in a second before he stops by the player’s stall. “Looking good out there, Oliver.” 

Olly looks up, surprised to see him there. From next to him, Mason giggles, bending down to fiddle with the tape on his socks. “Thanks Svechy, I appreciate that.”

“You two feeling good about the home opener?” He asks, gesturing his chin to Mason and leaning against the wall next to the door.

“Yeah man,” Mason answers, eyes on his skates now. “Feeling great. You think we’re ready?”

“Did it last year,” he answers. “Looked great in pre-season. Who says hurricanes can’t strike twice?”

They both grin at that, and then Andrei nods at them, dismissing himself.

When he steps into the hallway, his phone buzzes with an email notification, and his heart nearly skyrockets out of his chest when he sees the subject line.

“Booking Confirmation Details - Eden Hospitality.”

He curses silently to himself, nearly jumping in the air when there’s a tap on his back.

It’s Coach, who laughs at Andrei’s red face, and Andrei quickly locks and pockets his phone. 

“Sorry Svechy,” he says, “Didn’t mean to scare you. You coming to the meeting upstairs?”

“Yeah,” Andrei says, sighing a little in relief that it was just Coach Brind’Amour. “Yeah, let’s go.”

Another long, nearly painstaking hour later, Andrei’s finally back in his office.

It’s a cozy space, not as large as the General Manager’s office, or the coach’s office, but it’s decent enough. There’s many photos of his journey with the Canes along his wall, and pictures of his family on the wall closest to his desk. His desk is L-Shaped, and it allows him to face his office door, a couch along the wall, two chairs in front of his desk, and a shelf and mini stall for his gear in the corner. 

Checking his schedule on the calendar on his computer, he’s instantly grateful to see he doesn’t have to do anything for another hour and a half, so he pulls out his phone and brings up his email, clicking into the confirmation from Eden.

“Thank you for choosing Eden Hospitality for your booking purposes!

Your reservation beginning this Saturday, October 17th at The Mark Hotel in the Premier Suite is confirmed. Please note that any and all reservation changes must be made within 48 hours of the arranged date. Proof of payment is attached to this email in a reviewable and downloadable PDF. 

We also wanted to confirm we received your latest copy of blood testing for STDs, and thank you for your compliance with our booking policies. As a reminder, this will need to be done prior to every booking request to ensure booking can be completed. Failure to comply will result in termination of your account with Eden Hospitality. Attached is also a copy of your companion’s recent blood testing, for your reference. 

Check in as per usual at the front desk, and feel free to either leave your bags with the front desk, or you can head on up to your room. Please feel free to text your companion to arrange a time and place to meet, should you wish to meet outside of The Mark Hotel.”

His heart catapults out of his chest when his phone buzzes in his hand with a new text message.

“Almaznyy,” the name reads, and a kilowatt smile crosses his features. He opens your text thread with one another, his smile growing impossibly large as his cheeks heat.

Almaznyy: You miss me that much, don’t you?

Andrei: Almost every second since I said goodbye to you last month

The dinner date had gone incredibly. Wonderfully. Stupendously.

(That last word was one Skyler had taught him.)

The chemistry the two of you shared was…literally off the charts. It felt cosmic, fated, almost, just so naturally right that Andrei drove himself paranoid the more he thought about it, because he wanted to know if you felt it too.

You had spent the night, but nothing intimate had happened other than the two of you holding hands as you laid on Andrei’s bed and talked for hours until you both fell asleep. When Andrei woke up, you were in the kitchen, freshly showered and changed and making breakfast on the stove, a fresh pot of coffee already brewed. 

Eden had held your bags at the front desk for you as per consultation protocols, since the Daughters of Aphrodite weren’t required or expected to stay past the initial consultation if they’d made their decision or come to an agreement with their client, but if they chose to stay, their belongings weren’t far away.

The fact that you had chosen to stay made him happier than you’d ever know.

You didn’t unpack like he did, but your things were in a weekender bag in the corner of his bedroom, and though he didn’t want to admit it - mostly because he didn’t want to get ahead of himself - he quite liked seeing your toothbrush next to his on the bathroom counter.

Almaznyy: Well maybe I missed you a little bit as well

Andrei: Really?

Shit shit shit, he didn’t mean to press send on that. He didn’t want to unsend it either, but now that it was out there -

Almaznyy: Yes really, I had a wonderful time with you

You sent a heart emoji with that last message.

A heart.

Alright, now he was just outright blushing, and he folded his arms onto his desk before burying his head in them like a lovesick fool. 

In fairness, he’d had a wonderful time too.

After eating the delicious breakfast you’d made, he took your hand across the kitchen island and offered to take you out to do whatever it was that you wanted. It felt appropriate, felt good, knowing he could do that for you.

You took him by surprise when you asked if you could go to the Bronx Zoo. He half expected something a little more…well, he wasn’t sure exactly, but the zoo hadn’t been it.

He complied, of course, and the two of you got dressed. You in jeans, a light sweater, and sneakers, and him in black jeans, a white long sleeved shirt, sneakers, and your new bracelet that you hadn’t taken off since he put it on. You both took an Uber there, and spent most of the morning and early afternoon wandering around, looking at every single animal exhibit, some of them even twice, and taking pictures along the way.

Andrei took more than a few…hundred…pictures of you on his phone. Most of them were candids, some videos of you looking at the different animals, making faces or cooing at them from the viewing windows, and others of you just…being around him. 

(He locked about ninety five percent of the photos in a private album on his phone, just in case.)

After that, you took him to your favorite lunch spot on the Upper West Side, and then to your favorite book store in the city. 

For dinner, he insisted on cooking for you, so you went to Whole Foods, giggling when he pushed you around on the cart as you grabbed all the necessary items for Beef Stroganoff. 

You helped him while he cooked, though he would’ve been much happier if you had just sat on the stool, looking as pretty as you did, sipping your wine and letting him just…cater to you. 

You praised him over the dish, in which he immediately texted his mother about afterward to thank her for insisting on teaching him at least that, to which she just replied “???”

That night, the two of you fell asleep talking again, your hands linked with one another under the sheets.

The next day, you played tourist. Checking out the Natural History Museum, the Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island, got lunch in Tribeca, and then went to the driving ranges at Chelsea Piers. You had dinner together at Prime Catch in Hell’s Kitchen, and spent the rest of the night talking again, until you both fell asleep, this time, with you in his arms. 

So yeah…it was pretty wonderful. It didn’t even matter that he didn’t get the chance to kiss you, he just had so much fun being with you, being around you, that he didn’t care about what happened next, or what didn’t happen.

It had been tough to say goodbye to you, especially when you left him with a little wave, a kiss on the cheek, and a “see you soon, Andrei,” but he managed to contain his excitement for the next time.

At least, until this very moment.

He composes himself, sitting back up and grabbing his phone.

Andrei: I had a wonderful time too

Andrei: What do you want to do this time?

He feels like a teenager again, waiting as the seconds pass for your response, and when it comes, he’s pretty sure he wants to squeal with excitement.

He doesn’t even know how to squeal.

Almaznyy: I’ll let you choose, where would you like to take me on a date?

~

This was definitely a date. 

Your fourth date, technically. And you said ‘date,’ so he planned for a ‘date’, but as he waited for you as the seconds ticked by, he was worried it wasn’t enough. 

He waited on a bench in front of the Met wearing a dark baseball cap, a gray sweater, bomber jacket, jeans, and sneakers. It was a little chilly out in Manhattan, so he held two of the small, blue signature New York coffee cups in his hands, one with coffee for him, the other with hot chocolate for you.

His knee bounced up and down with nerves, eyes scanning the crowd, looking for any sign of you approaching. 

Eventually he sees you emerge, a large scarf wrapped around your neck, covering up your white knit sweater. You’re wearing black jeans and sneakers, your little black bag on your shoulder and in your hand are…

Two blue signature New York coffee cups.

As you get closer, you spot him on the bench, glance at his hands, and then the both of you are laughing by the time you reach him.

“Great minds think alike.” You tease, sitting next to him. “Is that hot chocolate for me?”

He nods, gesturing with his chin at the cups in your hand. “That coffee for me?” 

You nod too with a smile, and he shakes his head. “That’s some serious telepathy.” 

“I’m pretty sure most people call it chemistry.” You tease, “Here, you drink the coffee I got you, and I’ll drink the hot chocolate you got me.”

You place the excess cups next to you, then exchange the designated cups. He watches as you take a sip of your hot chocolate, smiling when a happy sound crosses your lips. 

“How are you, almaznyy?” He asks, reaching a hand out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his hand dropping to his lap unceremoniously.

“Good,” you say, nudging his shoulder with yours. “And you, Andrei?”

“Good,” he nods, “A bit busy, but good.”

You nod, taking another sip. “You have a game tomorrow night, right?”

“Mhm,” he manages through a sip of his own coffee. “Have you ever been?”

“To Madison Square Garden? Or to a hockey game?”

He shrugs. “Both.” 

“I’ve been to both,” you say honestly. “Couple concerts and I think two games?”

“Would you like to come?” At his question, you turn your head to look at him, surprise lining your features. Andrei just shrugs. “I’d be upstairs working for most of it, but I know a guy, if you want to go. ” He adds with a small smirk.

You hum, tilting your head to the side a little. “If you’d like to have me there, sure.”

“Would you want an extra ticket or two to bring friends?” He offers. 

“If you can swing it, and if it’s not too much trouble,” you say. “I think my roommates know someone on the Rangers, so they’d probably like to come.”

“You just let me know how many people, and I’ll take care of it,” he swears, leaning closer as a breeze comes by. 

You bury your nose in your scarf, shivering a little, and Andrei frowns. Immediately, he’s putting his coffee down beside him and pulling off his jacket, draping it over your shoulders. When the fabric rests on you, you turn to look at him, a warm smile on your face.

“You sure know how to woo a girl, don’t you, hotshot?” You tease, then reach for his hand, squeezing it. “Thank you.”

“Of course, almaznyy.” He says, squeezing your hand in turn, resting your joined hands on the bench between you. You’re both silent as you finish your initial drinks, and now that your other drinks have gone cold, Andrei tosses them both in the trash nearby before standing, tugging on your still joined hands a little to get you to come up with him.

You take him by surprise when you stand, releasing his hand and wrapping your arms around his waist, burying your nose in his chest. His hands are immediately falling on your back, rubbing up and down in a soothing pattern. “What is it?” He murmurs.

“Missed you a little, I guess.” You say honestly, voice slightly muffled by his sweater. “I had a lot of fun last time.”

“So did I,” he admits. “I missed you a lot, too.”

You hum, the noise vibrating against his chest. “What are we doing here?”

Andrei looks up at the Met, then back down at you. “You said your family liked art, and you told me that you liked to draw. I thought…” his voice trails off as he hesitates. 

Was this too personal? 

“Thought what?” You press, gently rubbing his back. 

“Thought you might like to teach me a thing or two. About art.” He eventually says. When you look up at him, there’s an iridescent beam and goofy but excited tilt in your smile, and his heart hammers in his chest.

You gave him that smile a lot last time.

He was more than thrilled to see it again. He didn’t think he should start counting them, not this time, but he definitely would keep this one in his pocket for later.

Gently, he untangles his arms from around you and grabs one of your hands in his, squeezing once. “Ready to go in?”

You nod, still smiling from ear to ear as you trail after him into the museum.

~

Almaznyy: In the lexus level suite with my friends

Accompanied with the text is a selfie of you smiling from ear to ear in a Hurricanes beanie, his bomber jacket, and a Carolina Hurricanes hockey jersey underneath. You’re holding up the peace sign, the bracelet he gave you twinkling in the light.

Andrei: On my way 

He grabs two security guards and an MSG employee, asking if they can escort him down to your suite.

They guide him quickly through back halls and to an elevator, where after a short ride, he arrives at your level and is promptly escorted to your suite, where they fuck off to the other side of the hall so he can have some privacy.

He opens the door to a barrage of giggling that almost immediately ceases when he steps in. 

Your eyes lock on one another almost instantaneously and it’s like his world narrows down to just you.

He’d be embarrassed if it weren’t for the fact you said you wanted to be here, that you were excited to be here and share this with him. 

Your friends are sharing knowing looks with you from where you’re all standing at the buffet spread, but you ignore them, offering Andrei a soft smile and almost immediately going to embrace him, wrapping him in a tight hug as you murmur a “hi” into his chest.

Andrei laughs, dropping a kiss to the top of your head, murmuring his own “hi” into your hair as he wraps his arms around you.

It’s been less than a few hours since he’s seen you last - having left you at The Mark earlier in the day so he could prepare for the game, and you headed into the West Village to join your friends in getting ready for the evening - and he still felt your absence like a gaping wound in his chest.

When you pull away, you take his hand, leading him over to your friends.

“Girls, this is Andrei, my boyfriend. Andrei, these are my friends Tiffany, Katie, Cee, and Maya.” 

His whole world screeches to a halt as one word rings in his ears.

Boyfriend.

Boyfriend.

Boyfriend.

“H-hi,” he stutters, “Nice to meet you.” He holds a hand out as he greets each of your friends, who greet him in turn.

“Thank you for letting us tag along,” Maya says.

Cee tacks on “We really appreciate it.”

“Of course,” he says, brain still playing catch up.

Did he imagine it? Or did you definitely call him your boyfriend?

“It was nice of you to get this suite all for us.” Tiffany adds, eyes darting around the space that’s definitely meant for at least a dozen people.

Katie nods in agreement. “We hope it wasn’t inconvenient.” 

Andrei shakes his head. “No, it was my pleasure. Is everything okay so far?”

“Fantastic,” you assure him, then turn to your friends. “Can you guys give us a minute?” 

They all nod, sharing knowing looks once again before grabbing their plates and drinks, heading toward the front of the suite and out to the seats, getting ready to watch warm ups.

You turn to Andrei then, a sheepish smile on your face. “I’m sorry that I introduced you as my boyfriend, they just…my friends don’t know that I work at Eden, or what I do. They still think I work at my last job. I thought it would be easier.”

His every instinct says he should frown, or that he should be sad, but he also understands.

And also really, really likes the way you make the word “boyfriend” sound. 

Even more so, he likes the way it makes him feel.

But…in reality, he’s not that, no matter how much he would like to be.

Or at least, he’s not that yet.

“It’s okay,” he says. “I get it, it’s alright.”

You scrunch your nose. “Are you sure?”

Andrei shrugs, “I mean I would do the same if I was in your shoes.” If I knew your name, he wants to add, but doesn’t. Would that be okay with you?”

You give him a shy smile and nod a little. “Yeah, that would be okay.”

He feels a little out of place then, but then his eyes coast down to the jersey you’re wearing beneath his bomber jacket. He tugs on the logo at your torso, gesturing with his chin. “Where’d you get this?” 

“Made a stop downtown at the NHL store after you left earlier,” you say, offering him a cheshire grin. “Picked it up.” 

His eyes narrow playfully. “Who’s jersey is it, almaznyy?”

You shrug, tugging the bomber jacket closer, covering yourself up a little. “Guess you’ll have to wait and see later.”

Andrei makes a move like he’s about to scoop you up, when there’s a knock on the door and one of the security guards he came down with pops his head in. 

“Sorry to interrupt, but they’re calling for you in the locker rooms, Mr. Svechnikov.” 

“Give me a minute and I’ll be right there.” He promises. The guard steps out, shutting the door, and this time, Andrei does scoop you up, and you laugh gleefully, throwing your arms around his neck as he spins you around.

When he puts you down, he bends his head to tell you to have fun, to text him if you need anything and that he’ll come see you during intermissions if he can.

But then you take him by surprise, dragging your arms from his neck, trailing them down his chest, and gripping his tie in one hand, yanking him down the rest of the way as you rise up on your tippy toes and kiss him.

You’re kissing him.

This is your first kiss.

Yebena mat'. Holy shit.

It takes his brain a second to catch up and for his body to follow suit, but when it does, he’s got his hands on your waist and he’s pulling you closer, pressing his lips against yours firmly as he follows your lead, his entire world flipping on its axis in the process.

He doesn’t want this to end, has never been less interested in a game of hockey, ever, in his life, because all he wants right now is to take you straight back to The Mark and kiss you till the sun comes up, kiss your lips, your neck, your collarbone, trail those kisses down your stomach and -

You pull away, eyes glazed over a little and still lingering on his lips. On instinct, Andrei licks them, and your eyes flash, tracing the movement of his tongue.

“I um…” You start to say, but Andrei leans down and kisses you again. It’s chaste, not nearly enough of what he wants to do, but it’s enough for now.

“I know,” he murmurs. Because he does. “Later,” he promises.

Based on the look in your eyes, you know he’ll keep it.

~

It’s later on during the game that Andrei feels a tap on his shoulder, and he tears his eyes away from the ice, looking to where Coach is pointing. 

It’s the jumbotron, and there’s some kid dancing free and wild, people in the stands cheering him on or dancing along with him, but behind him, Andrei’s attention is stolen.

Because there you are, dancing with your friends, looking so wild and free, and a smile creeps up on his face. Then, that’s when he spots it.

Your jersey.

The seven evident on one arm, the three on the other. 

Your friend Maya grabs you and makes you do a little twirl, and then the “SVECHNIKOV” emblazoned on your back is on the screen, and the camera zooms in tighter on the child, blowing up your image along with it. The Canes fans cheer at the sight of his jersey, some people even standing, and it does something to his insides.

His jersey.

You’re wearing his jersey.

And he never cared about shit like that before, not really. Most of the wives and girlfriends never actually wore their husband or boyfriend’s jersey unless it was for some charity event or a coordinated effort in the playoffs. 

And you’re not his wife, or his girlfriend (yet), but he suddenly feels…

He feels completely less lonely. Feels less like he needs Eden’s services, and more like he just needs you.

Andrei feels like a boyfriend. A proper one. Yours.

“They still love you, buddy.” Coach Brind’amour says, and Andrei laughs, playing it off.

“That’s cheating,” he admits, gesturing to the screen, where they finally move onto another person. “That one was mine.”

Coach’s eyebrows raise a little. “The girl in the jersey?”

He nods, suddenly sheepish. He did say he was going to introduce you as his girlfriend, and you said you were alright with it, so he tells Coach “Yeah, she’s mine.”

“Well shit, Svechy.” Brind’amour teases. “About damn time.”

Yeah, he thinks to himself. I know.

He pulls out his phone then, shooting off a text.

Andrei: You little sneak

The three dots pop up, then disappear, then pop up again before your message comes through.

Almaznyy: You like it? 

Andrei: I never thought I’d say this in my life, but I’ll like it better when it’s on the bedroom floor

Almaznyy: I think that can be arranged

~

Andrei’s bouncing off the walls with anticipation as the elevator ascends to your hotel suite.

The Hurricanes won the game, and while he’s excited for the team, he’s also pretty fucking excited for himself.

It’s like your kiss broke the dam within him, destroying all of his restraint and hesitation. He’d been shaking with anticipation as every second passed between the second he left your suite to the very second he’d been able to get back to you once he was done playing Assistant General Manager. 

That’s something he’d never thought he’d say in his life.

He was fucking ecstatic to have this job, to be given a job for the team he’d stuck with since day one, a team that had given him everything. 

But this? You? 

This felt like a once in a lifetime kind of thing, and he wasn’t going to waste another second away from you.

A part of him felt bad about you saying goodbye to your friends so early, but this was his time with you.

Technically, as twisted as it made him feel, he paid for it…so…

When he finally unlocks the door to the suite, you saunter inside ahead of him, stripping off your shoes, socks, his jacket and your beanie, dropping them to the floor. His heart pounds harder in his chest, watching as you turn your head over your shoulder just slightly, enough so that he can see the mischievous smile on your face before you unbutton and unzip your jeans, dropping them to the floor and stepping out of them, sauntering ahead toward the bedroom with a flick of your hair behind you.

“Yebat’,” he groans out loud. Fuck. 

The sight of your bare thighs hidden beneath his jersey is the last thing he sees before you round the corner, and the image of those thighs wrapped around his head tents his pants in a second and propels him forward, stripping off his tie and suit jacket and kicking his shoes and socks off as he goes, leaving them in the same trail as your belongings.

When he gets to the bedroom, you’re sitting on the edge of the bed, all jersey and bare thighs, and the smile that spreads on his face is wide and bright.

“Posmotri na sebya,” he murmurs. Look at you. 

He steps in front of you, inches between you now, and takes in the way your eyes track him as he gets on his knees, placing his hands beside you on the edge of the bed and leaning forward.

You spread your legs a little to let him settle between them, and Andrei closes the distance, pressing his lips to yours as he shuts his eyes, losing himself in the feel of you. He feels your hands drift up his chest, gathering the material of his shirt and pulling him closer.

He feels your thighs bracketing his torso, then they’re wrapping around him, ankles locking behind him and he bites down on your lip a little, a small pleased sound leaving your mouth that reverberates in his body.

“C’mere,” you say between kisses, and he rises up, places his hands under your thighs as he moves the two of you up the bed, resting you against the pillows and slowly placing his weight on top of you.

“Almaznyy,” his own voice sounds far away to him, probably because that’s where he feels like he is. 

He feels like this is too good to be true, like this is all a dream and he’s going to wake up any second and feel like the last month that you’ve been in his life has all been an illusion.

Everything’s moving so fast, and he just…he’s suddenly worried that you might not be on the same page.

It makes him pull away, just a fraction, and you make a small noise of protest, trying to pull him back to you. 

Andrei smiles, catching your hand and kissing it. “It’s okay,” he says. “I just…” He pauses, swallowing past a lump in his throat.

You tilt your head, taking in his expression. “What is it, Andrei?” 

He shakes his head - partly out of disbelief that this is happening, and partly because he’s worried this is all in his head. “I don’t want to do something you don’t want. I don’t want to do anything if you don’t want it too.”

“Andrei, Andrei look at me.” You implore, framing his face with your hands. “I’m here, with you. Not because I have to be, not because of this job, I am here with you at this moment because I want to be, okay? I want this. I want you.”

It’s exactly what he needed to hear, but suddenly the words are too much to bear, it feels like something he doesn’t deserve. 

“What do you need?” He pleads. If he can know what you need him to do, maybe he’ll feel better about deserving this moment with you. “Tell me what you need here, what you need tonight, what you need from me. What can I do, almaznyy?”

“I just need you,” you coo, pulling him back down to you for another kiss.

“Is that all?” He presses, resisting for just a moment to look you in the eyes, so you can see him, so you can understand.

He’s asking about tonight and beyond, asking about what he can do to help you get what you need out of this arrangement, to make this more than a contractual obligation.

“Just you, Andrei,” you repeat, meeting his gaze straight on.

“If we do this…” he begins. “If we do this, then…”

“I know,” you insist. “I still want it. Do you?”

Andrei shakes his head, smiling at you. There’s…he can’t put it into words. 

The draw he feels to you is…otherworldly. 

And you’re beneath him now, in his jersey, his last name on your back, four dates under your belt, and you’ve got the most insane chemistry together, and he already likes you so much that he worries it would scare you if you knew how badly he’s wanted you since that very first second.

“You don’t get it,” he insists, bending his head a little, rubbing his nose against yours gently. “The things I want…if we do this…” he says again, finding your eyes. “If we do this, there’s no going back. Do you understand? If I touch you, I can’t go back.”

You nod, “I know. I don’t want to go back.”

You’re still not answering his question, not really, and he knows that.

“You can tell me you know,” Andrei breathes out, still a little dazed that this is happening. “You can tell me anything.”

You smile at him, nodding and murmuring “I know,” before pulling him down to kiss you again, and he feels it, feels the way you try to communicate to him through your lips, pressing your body against his, that this - here and now - is mutual.

And that’s going to have to be enough. 

This time, there’s no more waiting, no more hesitating, and he kisses you back full force, pressing his hips to yours and pushing you into the mattress. His hands wander up the jersey, feeling the lace material at your hip and on your ribs and he needs to see it. 

You must read his mind, because you’re reaching between the two of you and grabbing at the jersey, pulling it up and over your head, and all Andrei sees is black lace.

His cock throbs painfully against the zipper of his pants, and he meets your eyes for just a second, asking permission, and you’ve barely nodded before he’s bending his head, sucking the skin of your exposed breast into his mouth and groaning at the taste of you, the feel of your skin beneath his tongue.

You gasp a little, back arching and he winds his arms around you, pulling you impossibly closer as his name crosses your lips in a dreamy sigh.

“Say it again,” he demands, dragging his teeth over your skin as he switches to your other breast, pressing his palms against your back. “Say my name again, almaznyy.”

“Andrei,” you breathe out without hesitation, “Feels so good.”

He sucks your skin into his mouth, flicking his eyes up to gauge your reaction, and when he finds you already looking at him, his pulse skyrockets, and your hips move, grinding your core against his clothed abdomen.

Freeing one hand from behind you, he brings it forward and between your bodies, trailing his fingers over the lace and down toward your core, pressing gently against the lace, a moan escaping his throat before he can stop it when he feels how wet you are.

“This for me?” He murmurs quietly, trailing his tongue in the valley between your breasts, playing with the hem between your legs.

You nod, breath coming out in heated pants. “Only you, Andrei. Just you.”

Only you.

Just you.

He lets those words ring in his ears, lets the syllables settle in his bones and cloud his mind when he presses his fingers at the fabric and tears, ripping the black lace thong from your body before stuffing them in his pocket and shuffling down the bed.

You’re sitting up on your elbows, looking down your body at him as he parts your thighs, his large hands digging into the flesh as his eyes take in the one place he never imagined he’d be lucky enough to see in his life. 

“Trakhni menya,” he nearly croaks. Fuck me.

Your glistening pink heat stares at him, inviting him closer, calling to him, and he answers the call without a moment’s hesitation, leaning forward and burying his face between your thighs, dipping his tongue into your dripping center and sucking.

The sound of his lips and mouth working against your pussy fill the bedroom quickly, obscene and loud noises echoing off the walls. He eats you unabashed, unashamed, and unrestricted. You thrash against his mouth as pleased moans and whines escape your throat one after the other.

Your hands fly into his hair, nails scraping against his scalp and tugging the tresses between your fingers, pulling him closer and pushing him away all at once. His lips barely detach from your skin when he pulls away to take a breath, not wanting to be too far from his current task, not wanting your skin and your taste so far from him ever again.

He sucks your clit into his mouth and your back arches, nearly tearing your hips away from him and he moans out a little displeased sound, pulling you closer and bracketing his arms across your belly, keeping you locked against his mouth. 

“Andrei,” you pant again, desperation in your tone, “Please, please I’m so close.”

He quite likes the sound of you begging.

“Come,” he commands, murmuring against your clit. “Come for me, I want to taste you.”

He sucks your clit into his mouth, hard, and he keeps his eyes on you, your face, and your body, gauging for the little tells he wants to memorize, store in his memory for the next time he gets to do this with you, and the next, and the next, and the next.

You go silent all of a sudden, heaving breaths stopping as your orgasm hits and your mouth falls open in a silent cry, brows furrowed and eyes shut tight while your grip in his hair tightens, thighs bracketing his head as your body shakes through your orgasm. The taste of you floods his mouth and he groans in delight, savoring every drop happily as he continues to lick and suck until you’re all but forcing his head away, giggling and delirious.

“Andrei please,” you breathe, “Please just come here.”

He obeys, crawling up your body until he’s close enough and he bends his head, accepting your kiss and massaging his tongue against yours, sharing your release. He lets you unbutton his shirt and push it off his shoulders, lets you pull his shirt over his head before he unhooks your lace bra and tosses it aside, and then you’re completely bare for him.

“Let me see you,” he pleads, sitting up and back on his haunches just so he can look at you.

You preen under his gaze, back arching slightly as you stretch, a cheshire grin crossing your features as his eyes roam over you, trying his damndest to commit the sight of you to memory.

“Ty takaya krasivaya,” he praises. You’re so beautiful, allowing his admission to linger in the air and one of his hands to wander up your calves, your thighs, before it settles on your waist, the other hand unbuckling his belt with deft fingers.

“Spasibo,” you say almost shyly, sitting up and then reaching out, unbuttoning his dress pants and then lowering the zipper.

The corner of his mouth ticks up, his expression curious. “What did I say?”

He watches with bated breath as your hands dance on the waistband of his boxer briefs, and one of your shoulders lifts in a small shrug. “I think you called me beautiful,” you respond, eyes slow as they drag up his body and toward his face.

Andrei leans down, playfully suspicious when he says “And how did you know that?”

You shake your head, dragging that beautiful bottom lip between your teeth before bringing your eyes back down, dipping your fingers into his waistband. “Lucky guess.”

Andrei doesn’t believe that for a second, but his protest dies in his throat the second your hand dips into his underwear and wraps around his cock, grip firm as you tug a little at the base of him. 

A loud but pleased groan echoes out of him and his head tilts back, nearly going cross eyed as you tug again, and his hand shoots out, circling your wrist gently as he shakes his head. 

When he manages to focus again, he raises his head and looks down at you, the furrow in your brow and pout of your lips damn near breaking his heart.

“Did I not do it right?” You ask, concern lacing your tone.

He reaches a hand out, thumb smoothing the furrow in your brow before dragging over your lower lip. Your tongue darts out, licking the pad of his finger before you gently suck his thumb into your mouth, and chert voz'mi, damn it if his cock doesn’t throb painfully in your grip.

“Almaznyy, I don’t think there’s a single thing you could do to me that wouldn’t be absolutely right, or feel fucking amazing. But I need this first time with you to last more than forty five seconds, okay?”

Understanding crosses your features, and a pleased smile makes its way onto your lips. “Oh,” you say, a little dazed, almost surprised, and it baffles Andrei right back.

How could you not possibly know how you undo him? How could you not know that you rattle his very existence in the best way? He feels like it’s so obvious now, like there’s no way he’s been playing it as cool as he’s believed this entire time. 

He smiles at you, voice teasing when he says, “Yes, ‘oh,’ almaznyy. It’s you, it’s what you do to me.”

“You do it to me too, you know.” You say. The response is almost immediate and your words go right to his heart.

Again.

He rises from the bed then, dragging his pants and boxer briefs down his legs before he kicks them off to the side, then he’s climbing back on the bed and settling between your legs. Your hands frame his face once more when you pull him to you for a kiss, a kiss that quickly turns from innocent and reassuring to desperate and needy, soft and open mouthed as his tongue massages against yours, you opening up beneath him almost automatically, like you’ve done this together a dozen times before.

There’s a moment where he expects to be jealous, to think about the times you could’ve been like this with other people, but the moment never comes. 

Because deep down, and based on the way your body comes alive under his touch, the way you respond to him, the way the two of you move like your bodies know each other inside and out already, Andrei knows, he just knows that neither of you have ever experienced something this perfect in your entire lives. 

“Condom?” He asks between kisses, trying to work through his mental checklist. “Do you want me to put on a condom?”

You barely even hesitate when you say “No, I’m clean. I know you are, too. I want to feel you. Is that okay?”

God. “It’s more than okay, almaznyy,” he assures you, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. “I want the same.”

His cock slips against your pussy where you’re soaked for him all over again, and you both moan, grinding against one another as you make out until the need for one another just becomes too much to bear.

“Ask me,” he says, nearly begging. Because as right as this is, he still needs to know that you want this too, and that he’s not just imagining things. “Ask me for it.”

Your voice is syrupy when you ask “Please Andrei, please put it in. I want you so badly. I want you, just you, Andrei, no one else and I - oh my-” 

Your words are cut off as you gasp on an inhale, mouth open in another silent cry as your back arches, hips tilting just so that Andrei has to focus, has to keep his hips still as he focuses solely on the way you flutter around him and squeeze as he pushes in just an inch. The look on your face, the way your body reacts has him nearly roaring with satisfaction, with pride, his mind going blank as two words run through his brain on a loop. 

Ona moya, he thinks. She’s mine, she’s mine, she’s mine.

You’re his. You belong to him, and he belongs to you. There’s nothing else in this world that makes sense.

“Breathe, almaznyy,” he pleads, dropping his head into the crook of your neck. “Need you to breathe, need you to tell me if it’s too much.” 

Your head shakes, frantic, and your next inhale is deep, gathering enough air in your lungs to steady yourself, and he rises again, eyes scanning your face desperately, needing you to be okay.

Your eyes lock almost instantly, and the look on your face is pleading, your words articulating the desperation behind them when you say “More, Andrei, please. Pozhaluysta.”

He curses, cock throbbing when he pushes inside another inch, and your hands fly to his ass, nails digging into the flesh of his cheeks as you try to pull him closer. “I know, I know,” he assures, “I’ve got you, almaznyy.”

“I’m so close again already, Andrei.” You murmur, tilting your head up and speaking the words against his jaw. “Please, just wanna feel you. Want you all the way inside.”

The way your words affect him feel nearly criminal, and he almosts debates grabbing his tie from out in the living area of the suite or your torn thong from his pants on the floor and using either of them to gag you, keep your mouth shut and stop him from blowing his load before he’s ready.

“Okay,” he says instead, trying to ease your desperation as well as his own. He pushes inside a little more, and when you nod, pleased mewls spilling through your lips, he keeps going until he’s seated all the way inside, can feel his balls pressing against your ass cheeks, and you both let out a satisfied groan.

“Khoroshaya devochka,” good girl, “taking me so well,” he praises, and you nod, eyes glazed over in pleasure.

“For you,” you say, all breathy. “Just for you.”

His hips stutter, causing him to pull out and push back in just a fraction, but it’s enough that your eyes flutter. “What did I say?” He asks, and watches in amazement when you give him a lazy smile, eyes still lost in the way he’s making you feel.

“You said I was a good girl,” you say, though it comes out slow, and Andrei nods, dropping a kiss to your lips, dragging your bottom lip between his teeth as he pulls away and pushes up on his arms.

“I did,” he confirms. He drags his hips backward until just the tip of him rests inside of you, and then he pushes forward, burying himself back to the hilt. The moan that echoes across the walls buries itself in his mind as he catalogs the sound.

He starts to fuck you in earnest then, hands resting on the backs of your thighs to keep you propped open and spread for him, allowing him to watch the way his cock disappears inside of you, the way you take him over and over, his cock glistening with your arousal everytime he pulls out. The sounds your bodies make are probably obscene, but they sound like perfection in his mind, and he keeps at it, his eyes locked on your face to gauge your reactions, to make sure that he’s not giving you anything but mind blowing pleasure.

It’s all you deserve. He’ll give you nothing but the best, and if it’s not to your standards, he won’t stop until he gets it right, until he knows everything you like, until his legs burn and his jaw aches and he knows every single way he can make you come until you see stars and your voice is shot from screaming his name.

“Andrei,” you breathe, hands fisted in the sheets. “I’m going to come.”

He nods, “Do it, almaznyy. I want to see. Let me see you.”

“Want you to come with me,” you plead, and he feels his balls tighten at your plea. 

Your bodies know one another, he’s certain of it now.

“I will,” he promises. “Need you to come first, need to make sure you come first. Come for me and I’ll give you anything and everything, I promise.”

Your pussy flutters around him again, and he drives his hips forward, focused on fucking you until your flutters turn into a near death grip as you squeeze him, back breaking on an arch as his name crosses your lips in ecstasy, body shaking as your orgasm rocks through your body.

Your arms shoot out as you yank him down, and when you kiss him, when he swallows your cries as your release drips down his cock, he can feel a tight knot form at the base of his spine as his orgasm hits him like a freight train.

His arms shake as he keeps you open to him, cock throbbing as his orgasm pulses inside of you, filling you to the brim as he claims you from the inside.

“Ty moy,” he says as his orgasm begins to calm, pressing the words into your hairline. “Tol'ko moy.”

You’re mine, only mine.

“Andrei,” you say, his name sounding like a plea and a confirmation to his words all at once, and his heart hammers in his chest. 

If you only knew, almaznyy. He wants to say.

But his name on your lips is enough for now.

It has to be.

~

November

He wakes up hard. 

Images of you run through his brain from his dreams into his waking life and he sighs, reaching for his phone on his bedside table.

There’s a text there from you, telling him goodnight after you got off the phone earlier, and though it’s late - or maybe too early in the morning, he’s not sure - he calls you anyway, figuring he could just leave a voicemail, and a surprised bolt of joy blooms in his chest when you actually answer.

“Thought you were asleep, malysh.” You say, and Andrei can hear your smile through the phone.

“I never should have taught you that word,” he teases. He’d taught it to you the morning after your first night together, after he’d pressed the word into your neck while he fucked you from behind.

“Why not?” You feign hurt. “You get to call me something cute, why can’t I?”

What he really wants to call you is your name, but he knows he can’t ask, and since you still haven’t offered, it’s probably because you don’t feel like the two of you are in the right place for it.

You’ll get there, the two of you, he’s sure of it. He’s waited this long, he can wait a little more.

“You’re just going to use it to torment me,” he says, sighing as he leans back against his headboard.

You hum to yourself. “Well you’re clearly tormenting yourself if you’re awake right now. What’s going on?”

He shrugs even though he knows you can’t see him. “Ya skuchayu po tebe,” he says. “Kazhdyy den'.”

I miss you, every day.

It’s only been a couple of weeks, but it feels like months in his mind. Especially now that he’s had you in his arms, now that he knows what it sounds like when you say his name when he makes you come, now that he knows what you taste like, how you feel beneath his hands and body, it’s like he’s got a craving he can’t satisfy and he can’t help but want more, even if it leaves him feeling starved.

“Oh Andrei,” you coo, adoration in your voice. “I miss you too.”

His heart stops and he takes a deep breath, clutching his phone tighter. “How do you know what I said?”

“I have my ways.” You say cryptically, and he can hear your mischievous smile through the phone.

“Have you been taking lessons?” He inquires. It’s possible, given how much you understood that night and so far.

You giggle, “What’s making you miss me so much?”

He’ll accept your change of subject…for now. “Can’t get enough of you.” He confesses, “I can’t stop thinking about the last time I saw you.”

“I can’t stop thinking about you either,” you say. “Or that night.”

Andrei feels butterflies in his stomach followed by a wave of sadness. “I don’t know when I’ll be able to see you again,” he says honestly. “We’re in the height of the season now, and we’ve got a decent stretch of home games coming up, so it’ll be hard to get away to New York.”

“We don’t have to meet in New York, you know.” You say. “I can always come to Raleigh.”

He blinks, bolting upright so quick it almost makes him dizzy. “You can?”

“Yeah, Eden allows it so that we can travel wherever we need to. You don’t have to always formally book dates and times unless it’s based on your schedule.” You say. “I can always come to you, I just thought that…”

Your voice trails off, and Andrei frowns. “Thought what?”

You hesitate, and he feels it form a crack in his chest. “I thought you needed something more discreet, and that you liked being in Manhattan for the secrecy, so I never mentioned anything else. Plus, you always booked for The Mark Hotel, so…”

When you don’t continue, he swallows a lump in his throat. “I didn’t really know that. I guess I didn’t fully understand the booking parameters. Plus, I thought it was easier for you.” He winces at his word choice. “Not because of Eden, or anything, but because it was where we first met? So I thought it would be more comfortable for you..”

“No I understand, Andrei, I do.” You reassure him. “But I can come to you, if you’d like. If that’s what you want, or what you’re comfortable with.”

“I’d love that.” He says almost immediately. “I would love to have you here.”

~

You arrive in Raleigh two days later, Andrei picking you up from the airport. You’d offered to take an Uber since Eden would be footing the bill, but Andrei didn’t like that idea. 

You were his girl, his companion, and he’d take care of you himself, thank you very much.

He parks in the garage and waits for you at baggage claim, hiding beneath a baseball cap and his reading glasses just in case any fans recognize him. It doesn’t help that despite the fact that he’s retired, he knows his face is still plastered at the terminal exit as passengers come out and take the escalators down toward baggage claim.

Thankfully, you don’t make him wait long. He spots you coming down the escalator, wearing sweatpants and a baggy shirt Andrei recognizes as his own, a flannel tied around your waist and a duffel bag hanging off of one shoulder, your bracelet glittering in the fluorescent lights of the airport.

You spot him just as quickly, and Andrei enjoys the way the smile that stretches across your lips forms almost immediately. 

Andrei’s moving before he realizes, and he ends up at the bottom of the escalator just in time for you to step off of it, and then he’s hauling you into his arms by your waist, your own wrapping around his neck as he lifts you a little and spins you around, careful to move you both out of the way in the process.

Happy giggles spill from your lips as he presses kisses all over your face, grinning from ear to ear when he sets you down on your feet.

“Hi, almaznyy.” He greets quietly, arms still secured around you.

You rise on your tiptoes and press a kiss to his jaw, greeting him with an equally soft “Hi, malysh.”

He takes your hand and leads you over to the baggage claim area for your flight, choosing a spot close to the belt but far enough away from other passengers that he can still have you all to himself.

“How was your flight?” He asks, thumb rubbing the back of your hand.

“It was good,” you say, resting your head against his arm. “I’m just happy I’m here.”

“So am I, almaznyy.” He says, pressing a kiss to your forehead as the buzzer goes off and the belt of the baggage carousel starts to move.

You point out your suitcase after a few minutes and Andrei insists on grabbing it and taking your duffel from you, carrying both so the only thing you have to worry about holding is his hand in yours.

You make it out to his car and he makes sure to get you inside safe and sound before he places your things in the backseat, despite your protests of your suitcase messing up his leather interior.

He could care fucking less about that. All he cares about right now is that you’re here, in Raleigh, that he’s about to take you home for the first time, and that according to the confirmation email he got after you got off the phone the other night, the ticket Eden helped you arrange to Raleigh was a one way ticket. 

Meaning you were here for as long as either of you wanted, with no clear plans to send you back, and he liked that a lot.

He also liked that your suitcase felt heavy, meaning you probably packed for a long time.

All things that made Andrei feel like he should probably get a gift basket for Olly and Mason as a thank you for not being able to keep their traps shut at that dinner, maybe talk to Coach about getting them more ice time, maybe negotiating more money in their next contracts.

You held hands the entire drive to his house, your bracelet and his Rolex glinting in the sunlight from where they accompanied one another on his center console, and when he finally pulled into his garage and shut off his car, he felt a sudden rush of excitement fill his veins, and excitement he’d only felt whenever he got his day with the Cup. 

It was that initial feeling of him being able to carry it over the threshold into his home that made the victory feel surreal, and as he wheeled your luggage and carried your bag, holding your hand as he guided you inside his home and over the threshold, he realized this feeling, bringing you home, was better than any Cup championship he’d experienced.

It wasn’t even close.

The only thing that could possibly come second flashed in his mind, and images of him being able to bring you over this threshold in a white dress, layers of tulle flowing like a waterfall over his arms, and then not long after, being able to escort you over the threshold as you held a bundled up baby in your arms.

It seized the breath from his lungs so quickly he nearly choked. 

He’d never given so much thought to a god damn doorway before.

Oblivious to his predicament, you trail behind him as he leads you to his bedroom, eyes roaming over the expanse of his home, taking in every last detail.

“I’ll give you a full tour once you’re settled in,” he promises. “I just want to make sure you get comfortable first.”

“Okay,” you agree, voice soft in the mid morning hour.

When you finally get to his room, he lays your suitcase down on the bench at the foot of the bed, placing your duffel bag next to it. “You can sleep on whatever side you’d like,” he says, gesturing to the bed. “Feel free to make yourself at home. Bathroom’s through there,” he points to a door near the closet, “Fresh towels are already out for you. Would you like something to eat? I can make you lunch.”

You shake your head. “No, I'm okay for now, I ate a little on the plane.”

“Are you sure? Can I get you anything else?” he asks.

You shake your head again with a small smile, tilting your head toward the bathroom. “I’m sure, Andrei. Do you mind if I shower?”

“Of course not, feel free. I’ll uh…I’ll be in my office just down the hall, there’s something I have to take care of anyway.”

He closes the distance and drops a kiss to your lips, squeezing your waist in his hand before he leaves, wanting to give you space to yourself, to feel comfortable in his home. 

Oh god. 

You’re in his home.

His actual fucking house.

He can’t seem to get over that as nerves begin to settle in, tossing his hat to his desk once he’s in his office, running a hand through his hair.

He hasn’t been this nervous to bring someone home ever. He’d been so excited just to see you again, to have you here that it wasn’t until now that he worried what you’d think of the space, if you’d find it comfortable and homey and welcoming.

With a sigh, he pushes his glasses further up his nose as he opens his laptop, bringing up his emails and sorting through some of the things he needed to take care of for the team, welcoming the distraction even though it made him feel uncomfortable to think of anything but you for longer than a millisecond. 

Especially when you were down the hall, in his bedroom, in his shower, naked. 

The same shower he’d jerked off in thinking about you this morning, and last night. And the night before.

“O Gospodi, chto zhe ya nadelal,” he mutters to himself. Oh lord, what have I done?

He spends the next fifteen minutes willing himself to focus on the emails in front of him, tasks for him to finish up, people to respond back to, people to reach out to at the behest of the team owners and Coach Brind’amour. When his emails clear, he shuts his laptop and pulls out his phone, busying himself with responding to texts from Evgeny about the upcoming holidays, getting back to Evgeny’s wife, Sara, about potential Christmas presents for his brother, and his parents, checking in on them both.

It busies him enough that when you finally walk into his office - wet hair still dripping a little and body dressed in a baby pink spaghetti strap sundress, the only jewelry on you being the bracelet you never take off, your bare feet padding onto the carpet - he doesn’t notice at first. 

That is, not until you’re on the other side of his desk, knocking your fist playfully on the wood.

Andrei’s head snaps up from his phone, and he leans back a little in relief in his chair when he notices it’s you, a lazy smile spreading across his face. “You almost scared me there.”

“Sorry,” you breathe out in a laugh. “I believe I have an appointment with you, Mr. Svechnikov?”

He’s confused at first, until he sees the way your eyes twinkle mischievously, and he smirks. “Is that so?”

You nod, clasping your hands behind your back. “Mhm, I believe you’ve been expecting me, and I know you don’t like it when I’m late.”

Andrei places his phone back in his pocket, then folds his hands across his abdomen, resting his elbows on the armrest of his chair. “What is it you’re meant to be meeting with me about?”

“Don’t you remember? I’m your new assistant,” you say, releasing one of your hands from behind your back and trailing a finger on the other side of his desk. “I’ve been hired to help you and ensure your daily needs are met.”

“You’re a little underdressed to be an assistant, aren’t you?” He asks, tilting his head curiously.

You look down with a small pout, then back up to his face. “You don’t like it?”

“Hmmm, it’s hard to tell. Why don’t you come around the desk and let me see?”

He backs his chair up a little as you round the desk and then come to stand between his spread legs. Andrei pretends to deliberate, raising his hand in the air and twirling his finger before saying “Turn around, let me see all of you.” 

A shy smile works its way onto your face as you do a little turn, his cock immediately growing hard as he observes you taking slow steps to complete your circle before facing him once more, clasping your hands in front of you. “Well?”

“I think,” Andrei says, scooting his chair closer to you before his hands make their way to the backs of your thighs, thumbs rubbing at your skin. “That you’re perfect.”

“Why thank you,” you murmur, reaching a hand out and cupping his cheek. “You’re very sweet.”

He shakes his head a little. “If you knew what was going through my head right now, you’d disagree.”

“Well, what’s going through your head?” You inquire, rubbing your thumb over his cheekbone. 

“Why don’t you hop up on the desk and maybe you’ll find out?” He says, punctuating his statement with a light slap to the backs of one of your thighs. You gasp a little, leaning into him, and Andrei smiles, tightening his grip on your thighs as he stands, and you jump a little into his arms, your arms winding themselves around his neck as he backs you both up two steps, setting you down onto the wood of his desk gently. 

“I always have a lot going on in my head when it comes to you,” he admits, reaching up to grab your hands, kissing the backs of them before bringing them down to your lap. “I just don’t want you to…I guess I just don’t want to scare you away.”

“Skazhi mne,” you encourage, voice soft. Tell me.

Andrei’s eyes flash. “Tell me where you’re learning Russkiy.” He demands.

You giggle, “What’s going on in your head?” You ask him instead, and he narrows his eyes a little.

One of these days he’s not going to let you change the subject, but for now, he plays along. “I think about you sometimes,” he admits, circling his fingers around the bracelet on your wrist, pads running over the diamond studded vines. “I think about you on this desk, like you are now.”

“And?” You press, tracking his every move with your eyes. 

He hesitates to say more, unsure of how far to go with this, unsure of what he should reveal and what would be too…scandalous. 

“What about me on the desk, Andrei?” You ask, reaching a hand out to trail down his abdomen, resting on the waistband of his jeans.

He shakes his head, cheeks heating as his face goes red. He’s too ashamed, feels like he shouldn’t have been thinking such…dirty things about someone as pure as you. “I can’t, almaznyy. I-”

You surge up then, pulling his waistband at the same time and kissing him, hands traveling up his abdomen and to his face, where you pull his reading glasses off and set them on the desk next to his phone. Then, you take him by surprise, placing your hands firmly on his chest and shoving him back down into his desk chair. 

“I think this is where I, as your assistant, can help you articulate those thoughts.” You start, his favorite cheshire smile of yours creeping onto your lips. “Since it’s my job to make sure your needs are met, and to anticipate any future needs.”

“Are you sure about that?” He asks, well aware of how hard he’s breathing. 

You nod, and without another word, spread those glorious legs of yours to reveal your bare pussy.

Andrei’s breath catches in his throat. “Almaznyy,” he breathes, the word coming out like a pained sound.

“Malysh,” you say, voice teasing as your hand, the one donning your bracelet, comes forward and runs down your stomach and to the hem of your dress, pulling it up to bare yourself to him a little more.

He doesn’t know where to look. He wants to look at your face, wants to watch your facial expressions, but then he also wants to watch your hands, memorize the way you touch yourself so he can mimic the movements later, and he wants to keep his eyes locked on that little piece of heaven you’ve got between your thighs.

“Will this make it easier for you to tell me what’s on your mind?” You ask, trailing your fingers down and collecting the wetness already gathering, dragging it back up to circle your clit.

All he can do is nod, too entranced by your ministrations. He can feel his mouth start to water, watching one of the spaghetti straps of your sundress start to fall off of one shoulder, and good lord -

He reaches out, rubbing the hem of your sundress between his fingers. “Ty golaya pod etim plat'yem, krasavitsa?” 

Are you naked under this dress, beautiful?

Your brow furrows as your fingers continue to move in deliberate circles, and Andrei memorizes the pattern, tucks it away in his brain for later. “I don’t…I didn’t understand all of that,” you admit.

He smirks, but doesn’t repeat himself. He doesn’t know if he has the energy to think in just one language, let alone two right now, because all of his focus is directed on you and your body. 

“Boleye,” he pleads. More.

Now that you seem to understand, because you part your legs a little wider, scooting more toward the edge of his desk as you continue touching yourself.

Andrei rolls his desk chair a little closer so you can place your feet on the armrests and essentially bracket him in, giving him the perfect front row seat to everything going on. He reaches for his jeans, unbuttoning and unzipping them before he’s reaching inside his boxer briefs and pulling out his cock, giving it a rough tug to ease some of the pressure. 

Your pupils blow out wide as you watch him, and he jerks his chin at where your fingers are moving up and down your pussy now, where he can see the digits glistening from his vantage point.

“Move your hand.” He orders, and you do, prepared to move it to the side to rest on your thigh, but then Andrei’s making a small “tsk” noise, and your hand hovers in the air for a second. 

“Give it to me,” he says, holding one hand out while the other strokes his cock in slow movements. You place your hand in his and then he’s bringing the arousal coated digits to his mouth, sucking them between his lips and massaging the pads with his tongue, cleaning away your wetness and swallowing it down with a pleased rumble in his chest.

Your fingers leave his mouth in a soft ‘pop’ when he pulls them out, and he brings both hands to rest under your thighs, pulling you just a little bit closer to the edge, allowing his desk chair to also roll forward until there’s practically no space between you both, and then he’s bending his head, lips latching onto your pussy and sucking hard.

A surprised moan crosses your lips and Andrei’s hands hold you steady as you thrash a little, clearly not expecting him to just dive in so eagerly. Your hands slam against the desk behind you, using them to try to prop you up and keep you steady, and Andrei’s eyes are glued to your face.

He managed to learn what you liked best that first night, having the privilege to have taken you four times that night, insisting on tasting you every chance he got. He knows now that you like it when he turns his head just a little, tilting it so it’s nearly sideways and taking your labia and clit into his mouth and sucking, licking across the center of your cunt and teasing it as if he’s making out with you.

So when he tilts his head and does just that, taking you into his mouth the way you like, his name spews from your lips in a breathy sigh, and your arms shake at your sides.

Eagerly, he laps at you and moans in satisfaction when the taste of you and smell of you overwhelms his senses, having also learned that you like hearing him, like hearing how much he’s enjoying you and how excited he is to get you to come on his tongue. He doesn’t exaggerate the noises his mouth makes against you but does nothing to lessen or quiet them.

It’s his fucking house, and you’re on his fucking desk, at the mercy of his lips and tongue and spread out by his hands, so he’ll do whatever he god damn pleases. You can cry out for God for all he cares, it’s just the two of you in this room, and the only ‘God’ to answer your prayers for more is going to be him. 

“Andrei,” you moan, turning his name into a plea and dammit does he love that, too. It’s a sound he doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to. “Pozhaluysta,” you beg. Please.

You don’t have to beg, he wants to tell you. You don’t have to beg me for a goddamn thing. I’ll give you whatever you want. Just ask me and it’s yours, I’m yours. 

Instead, he just nods, pressing his tongue against you in the way he knows you like and spreading your thighs apart, pressing against the back of them to expose you to him more so he can feast on you properly.

It’s messy, wet, and loud, and Andrei couldn’t give a single fuck, not when you’re so close, your arousal dripping down his chin and your thighs are pressing up against his palm, shaking as you get closer and threatening to squeeze his head between the strong muscles.

“Can I come, Andrei?” You ask, syrupy sweet and desperate and his cock throbs in response.

He nods, brushing his nose against your clit as he does and you jolt, body nearly shaking in relief when his lips circle around your clit and he sucks in the pulsing rhythm he discovered had you coming in no time time, his tongue lapping at you and drawing you closer to release.

When your orgasm hits, your whole body shakes under his touch, and your arms fall out from under you, your back landing on his desk and then arching up, pressing you further into his mouth. He doesn’t stop, doesn’t back away, doesn’t do anything until you’re pushing at his head, and whining at the over sensitivity.

“Please malysh,” you beg, shaking against his mouth as he continues to lap at you. “It’s too much.”

“I’m a little busy, almaznyy,” he murmurs against your clit. “I’m cleaning up my assistant.”

You laugh through heaving breaths, fingers descending into Andrei’s hair and gripping the strands tight in your fist, tugging a little. He relents, pressing gentle kisses to your skin as you sit up, and then you’re fisting his shirt in your grasp, yanking him upright and kissing him, slipping your tongue inside his mouth and chasing the taste of yourself on his tongue.

You take him by surprise in the next second, shoving him back down in his chair and then licking the palm of your hand, wrapping it around his cock and twisting.

He hisses, hands gripping at your calves. He’s too sensitive and far too hard to be able to handle your touch. He doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to handle it, especially not now that he knows every inch of your skin and how it feels against his.

“Almaznyy,” he warns through clenched teeth when you twist your first over the head of his cock, squeezing and swiping at the bead of precum on his tip with your thumb. “Stop teasing.”

“Is that an order, Mr. Svechnikov?” You taunt, squeezing the head of his cock once more. 

A low groan leaves his lips, and he has half a mind to reach up and wrap his fingers around your throat, but instead, all he can do is hiss out a pained “Yes,” and then you’re using your other hand to reach out, yanking him a little closer before scooting all the way off of his desk and sitting right on his cock, taking him to the hilt in one go.

The gasp that leaves you both simultaneously is loud and echoes around his office, probably even down the hallway, and he can barely gather enough air in his lungs before you’re rising up again and then dropping down, and it feels like he’s going to burst at the seams.

“Oh my god,” he says, the words feeling like they’re being punched out of him as you slowly start to bounce on him. He tracks the way both of the straps of your dress hang off of your shoulders, the way that the bottom part of your dress is still raised from where he’d pushed it up earlier, and the bounce of your tits beneath the neckline.

He reaches out, tugging the neckline down and freeing them, and then you’re moving, sitting up a little taller, thighs bracketing his as you keep your pace bouncing on his cock, arching your back just so that when Andrei leans forward, he can easily suck your nipple into his mouth, laving his tongue over the bud while sucking your skin, hoping a hickey blooms there for him to admire later.

The moans spilling from your lips tell him you enjoy it, so he continues, switching to the other side and giving you teasing licks before he mimics his previous ministrations, sucking hard enough to hopefully produce matching marks.

Your hands find their way into the longer hair at the nape of his neck and tug so he’s looking up at you, and Andrei sees the way your glassy eyes take in his fucked out expression, sees how it spurs you on, your mouth dropping open in an ‘O’ everytime you sink down on his cock till he’s balls deep, then raise yourself up on your knees.

“Khoroshaya devochka,” he praises. Good girl. “Take it from me. Make yourself come on my cock.”

Nodding, you speed up just a little, thighs tightening on either side of his, and Andrei’s hands go to your ass, gripping the flesh and helping to move you up and down his length, keeping his eyes on your face to watch you, waiting for the way your eyes start to roll in the back of your head and waiting for the beautiful flutter of your pussy on his cock to let him know when you’re going to come.

“Andrei,” you whine, your grip in his hair loosening a little. “I’m so close.”

“I’ve got you,” he swears. He means it in every way possible. “Take what you need.” He punctuates his statement by burying his face in your neck and sucking on that sensitive spot he found last time, and it has you clenching around him in seconds, crying out as you pulse around him, body seizing as your orgasm washes over.

He has to take control then, gripping your hips and fucking you through it the way he knows you like, and it’s not long before he’s following behind you, pressing you down onto his cock as he pushes his pelvis upward, sealing the two of you together as he fills you up with his come, pulse hammering so hard in his body he can feel it in his ears.

As your orgasms subside, gently, he rubs up and down your back, pressing kisses to the nape of your neck and collarbone, happy to just sit here with you on top of him until you’re ready to move.

Eventually, you speak, voice a little raspy when you say “I think I need another shower after that.”

Andrei laughs, slowly standing and wrapping your legs around his waist, still fully seated inside you. “I think shower sex sounds like an excellent idea.”

~

The longer you stay with him, you two start to develop the beginnings of a routine together, and Andrei finds himself clinging to it like a lifeline.

In the mornings, you’re usually up first, wandering to some part of his massive house and drinking a steaming cup of tea or coffee, and it feels a bit like a game, Andrei wandering after you through his house to find where you’ve situated yourself for that morning. You usually only drink half of whatever you’ve made that morning, and when he finds you, he drinks the rest, still warm, before he takes your hand and drags you into the shower.

The first morning he did it, you pushed him to the built in shower bench and sank to your knees, took him in your mouth until he saw stars and came deep down your throat with a loud groan, repeating “Almaznyy” over and over until you took pity on him and released him from your mouth with a soft “pop,” the water trailing over your face making you look like a damn goddess. 

He came within like…five minutes, that first time. And though you clearly loved it and reveled in the effect you had on him, he would rather each time with you last longer than ten minutes, so he decided he wouldn’t let you take him in your mouth for a little while, especially if it meant saving what he had left of his pride and ego.

Sometimes, he would put you on the shower bench and get on his knees, burying his face between your thighs until you begged him for mercy. Other times, he pressed you against the tile wall, burying himself to the hilt and finding solace with you under the warm spray, filling you to the brim before fucking it deeper inside of you. 

Then, he’d wrap you up in one of his big, fluffy towels and dry you off, pressing you against the bathroom sink and kissing you until your stomachs rumbled. After getting ready for the day, he’d drag you out of the bathroom and to the kitchen where either you or him would make breakfast for the both of you, and then he’d either go to his office and work for a bit, or get dressed to head to the arena. 

If he stayed home to work, you’d either sit quietly with him in his office reading a book or sketching in a worn journal, earbuds in and playing music. He’d worried you’d be bored, but you assured him you were used to having to occupy yourself with things to do. That statement made him worry even more, but since you seemed to be fine, he didn’t push.

He’d work until there was nothing left for him to do, and he’d wait for you to either finish the chapter you were reading, or finish up the sketches in your journal. He had been tempted to ask you to see them, but given the way you hunched over your journal, like you’d been protecting it, he left it alone, figuring you’d share them with him if you wanted to. 

You’d spend the rest of the day together either making lunch, going out to eat, or with Andrei taking you around the Raleigh or Durham areas on little dates. So far, he’d taken you to the science museum, the North Carolina Museum of Art, taken you on a pedal boat ride in Pullen Park, brought you to Drive Shack where you both surprisingly and unsurprisingly kicked his ass, given you’d pretty much done the same when you brought him to Chelsea Piers, and just last night, he’d taken you to Rush Hour Karting.

He’d been there when he was a rookie in development camp for the Hurricanes, and he hadn’t been back in quite some time. It was nice though, to head back and make new and equally as happy memories there with you. You kicked his ass in a couple of laps, and since you’d raced with other people, there had been a round where a sixteen year old practically wiped the floor with everyone else, and it had made you and Andrei laugh a little when he’d been ready to boast about it until he saw Andrei’s face and freaked out, asking for a picture.

Those days where he could work from home and just be around you, taking the rest of his day to spend time with you, bring you anywhere and everywhere and spoil you silly? Those were beginning to be his favorite kind of days.

On the days he would go into his office at the arena, though, there are still particular advantages.

Andrei leaves his black card behind, insisting that you take it and make use of it as you need or see fit. 

The first morning he left it for you, he took it out of his wallet and put it down on the kitchen counter as he was heading out the door, and you just stared down at it, brow furrowed and lower lip jutting out in slight confusion.

“What is this for?” You had asked, holding it up in the air.

“For you,” he said, like it was obvious. “For you to use?” 

You pursed your lips, placed it back down on the counter and slid it back to him. “No, it’s okay.”

He frowned, ditching his bag by the door and rounded the counter to you. “I want you to have it, malyshka,” he insists. 

Your face scrunched up. “I know this next statement is going to sound weird, considering my job, and the circumstances of our…uh…relationship, but I don’t want your money, Andrei.”

“I understand, almaznyy,” he assured you. “But I don’t want you to spend your money. Not while you’re here with me,” he said, then tucked the card back in your hand. 

You stared at it for a second, then looked back up at his face, a small frown still on your lips, and Andrei couldn’t help but laugh. He reached out, smoothed the wrinkle between your brows and cupped your face in his palm. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, and then looked down at you with an amused smile. 

“How about this,” he began, “Since you’ve appointed yourself as my assistant, why don’t you take care of a few tasks for me?” He gestured to the card in your hand with his chin. “Use the card to pay for them.”

A small smile crept up your face, and you tilted your head at him, intrigued. “And what tasks would you be referring to, Mr. Svechnikov?”

“I think you need a new uniform,” he said, keeping his tone playful. “Why don’t you go and find something nice to wear around our…home office.” He punctuated those last words with a wink, smirking when you giggled. “Whatever you like, whatever the price. Get yourself some office supplies while you’re at it too, hm?”

“Oh I see,” you said. “This is a company expense, is it?”

“More or less,” he nodded, dropping another kiss to your forehead. “But I want to see everything you buy when you buy it. Send me pictures so I can see, understand? ”

You agreed with that gorgeous cheshire smile of yours. “I do.” 

And god if all the blood didn’t rush straight to his cock, picturing you in white as you say those words to him in another life, another time.

When he heads to the office, he purposefully takes his red Lamborghini to the rink, leaving you the safer options of his Mercedes or his BMW to use to go and complete your ‘daily tasks,’ and Andrei waits like an impatient teenager for those texts from you to come through. 

He’s saved every single picture, and thank goodness he has, because the second he gets home from work, it’s like the two of you are instantly pulled together like magnets. No matter where you are in the house, he gravitates to you, and you go at it like rabbits until one of you gets hungry, or until you’re begging him for relief. The lingerie sets barely make it ten minutes without being absolutely torn to shreds.

Though he wasn’t sure where you’d bought them, he had half a mind to march into the store and demand to know why their fabrics were so flimsy.

He's torn the first few either at the waist or right down the crotch, and one of them he all but snapped the strap of the garter belt off, the strap basically now hanging by a thread. The only things that have managed to survive after your first couple of weeks with him are a baby pink lace set complete with garter belt and stockings, and the same set, but in crimson red.

“You’re doing it on purpose,” you accuse through heavy breathing later that night, eyeing the fallen scraps of black lace among the black satin dress on the floor. The only thing that had managed to survive tonight was your thigh high stockings, which Andrei found himself running his fingers over now, your legs draped in his lap.

“What do you mean?” He questions, thumbing at where the lace of your stockings met your inner thigh.

You shivered a little, but didn’t move away from his touch, “You’re ripping them on purpose so I have to buy more, and that means I have to use your card.”

He smiles, dancing his finger over the spot inside your thigh that he’d made red by rubbing his stubbly cheek against it as he licked at you for a blissful thirty minutes. “You caught me.”

“If you wanted to be a sugar daddy you could’ve just said so.” You say lazily, stretching your body out. You probably don’t mean for it to look so seductive, but Andrei’s hypnotized nonetheless.

“I didn’t want to be,” he says honestly. “But you changed my mind a little.”

“I figured,” you murmur, casting a glance to your bracelet. “But you like it, don’t you?”

“Like what?” He asks, tugging your legs and maneuvering you until you’re straddling him again.

“Providing, spoiling, ” you purr, wrapping your arms around his neck. 

“I like it when it’s you.” Andrei clarifies, tilting his chin up so he can press little kisses along your jaw. “Even if I have to fight you on it a little.”

“I don’t want a sugar daddy for money,” you drawl, pushing his hair away from his face. 

He stares at you, confused. “Isn’t that what they’re for?”

“If I’m gonna have a sugar daddy, I want him for sugar.” You explain, “Not money.”

“Ya ne ponimayu, chto ty imeyesh' v vidu, detka.” I don’t understand what you mean baby.

You roll your eyes playfully, pulling his chin up and kissing him softly. He moans into your mouth, hands resting on your waist and bringing you closer. You tease him with your tongue running over his bottom lip before you pull away, sitting back a little. 

“That kind of sugar,” you say softly, running your thumb over his bottom lip. 

It takes him a few seconds, but then it clicks, and he flashes you a cheeky grin. “Well I’ve given you plenty of that, too, haven’t I?”

You shrug, reaching between you to grab his stiff cock and bring it back to your pussy, slipping him back inside of you and sinking down slowly, “A little more wouldn’t hurt.”

He’s immediately scooting back against the pillows and then his hands are on your thighs, anchoring you to him while you ride him, beginning your fourth round of the night.

~

After a few weeks of you staying with him, you approach him in his home office one day as he’s about to get off of a call. There’s an apprehensive look on your face as you linger in the doorway, clearly not wanting to interrupt, but he waves you inside anyway, gesturing for you to sit on the couch against the wall. 

You obey, waiting patiently until he’s hanging up and placing his phone beside his computer to stand from your seat and approach the other side of his desk.

“What can I do for you, almaznyy?” He asks, leaning back in his chair. 

“It’s probably a silly question,” you preface, “But I figured I would ask just in case.”

He nods, folding his hands on his stomach. “Okay.”

“I uh…me being here isn’t interfering with your holiday plans, right? I don’t know if you do anything for Thanksgiving since you started living here, but since it’s in a week or so, I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t overstaying my welcome.”

His brow furrows, mouth turning down into a frown. “You’re perfectly fine,” he assures. “I used to go to my coach’s house, but I haven't in years.” He pauses then, guilt suddenly coursing through his veins. “Am I…I’m not keeping you from your family, am I?”

You shake your head almost immediately, a strange look crossing your features. “No you’re not, we haven’t - I mean, we don’t celebrate. Haven’t in a bit.”

Andrei nods in response, but the guilt is still there, suddenly eating at his insides.

He’d been so wrapped up in you, so happy with your routines and the little corner of the world you’d managed to carve out for yourselves that he didn’t even think about the fact that he could’ve been keeping you away from your friends and family.

Or that he’s technically been keeping you away from his friends and family, too.

His mother’s been living with Evgeny the last couple of years, moving in to help Sara with their two year old and three month old babies, and his dad’s still back in Moscow, mostly by choice to help with Andrei and Evgeny’s grandparents. Evgeny and Sara sort of know he’s been seeing someone, but he hasn’t divulged much more, and he has no idea what you’ve been sharing with your family in turn.

Plus…he’s probably keeping you from other clients, which isn’t his favorite thing to think about, at all, but he can’t ignore the circumstances of how the two of you met, or how you came into his life. 

So as much as it pains him to say it, he doesn’t want to be like the beast keeping you locked in his castle against your will, so he takes a deep breath, and says “Almaznyy, if you need to go home, or if you need to go back, then-”

“I don’t,” you interject. “I’m good here.”

Oh…okay…

“No one’s missing you?” He asks. “You don’t have other clients?”

“I’m good here, Andrei,” you repeat, this time a little softer, rounding the desk. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Of course I’m okay,” he assures you, reaching for your waist and pulling you into his lap. “I was the one who asked you to be here with me. I wouldn’t have done it if I didn’t want you with me.”

You nod, body relaxing into his embrace. 

There’s another sharp pain in his chest, and he rests his head resting in the crook of your neck, breathing you in. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs.

He can feel you tense for a second in surprise. “For what?”

“I didn’t think about…other people. I didn’t mean to be selfish, but I was, and I’m sorry.”

“Oh Andrei,” you murmur, wrapping your arms around his neck, fingers scratching lightly at the base of his scalp. “I didn’t mean to make you feel guilty. I just…I didn’t realize how long I’d been staying here with you, and when I did, I knew I needed to check in. That’s all.”

“I like having you here,” he confesses. “It feels…”

“Natural,” you finish for him. “I know, I feel the same.”

You both settle into a small silence, Andrei content to just hold you for a second, to stay in this little bubble with you he’d built before he’d been forced to remember the two of you weren’t actually alone in this world together.

“What about Christmas?” He eventually asks you. 

You nod. “My family does celebrate it, kind of. But I would have to go home for that.”

“I would too.” He confirms. “We technically celebrate Christmas twice. Once for western Christmas on the twenty fifth, and again in January for Russian Christmas.”

You lean back a little, brushing his hair away from his face, bracelet glinting in the sunlight filtering in through the window. “Guess we’ll have to make the best of this next month or so.”

“Yeah,” he agrees, leaning up to kiss you softly. “I guess so.”

A pang of sadness hits him, already not looking forward to having to let you go.

~

Read Part Two Here.

[it-happened-one-fic]

Blood-Stained Camellias - Ayato (Part 2)

Author Notes: Part 2 of this short fic series with Vampire!Ayato! Starting with this chapter, this fic is being edited while I listen to the song "Marry You" by Bruno Mars. I honestly feel kind of bad for Reader, considering the situation I've put them in here, but it all gets better by the end, don't worry. As per usual, Reader is gender-neutral. I hope you enjoy!

Type: Gender-Neutral Reader/ Vampire! AU/ Arranged Marriage/ pining/ romance/ some drama/ fluff with a touch of angst/ sfw

Word Count: 1463

[Part One], [Part Two: You're Here!], [Part 3], [Part 4]

Trigger Warning: Vampires, Mentions of Blood

It had been a week since I’d learned that Ayato was a vampire, and since then, I hadn’t heard a single thing from the Kamisato clan. 

But the silence was anything but reassuring. In fact, it was only making me more anxious.

Not only did I not know how they were going to react to me learning about their rather large and certainly condemning secret, but it was upsetting that they hadn’t contacted me considering my position in relation to them.

I was supposed to be marrying Ayato soon, meaning I would soon be joining both their clan and their family. Ayaka would be my sister-in-law, and Thoma would be a close family friend, while Ayato….. 

Ayato would be my husband.

And though I hadn’t realized, I had become quite so attached to them; I was unsettled and definitely bothered by the silence. Maybe even hurt….

Ayaka was a dear friend, even though our friendship had largely begun due to my politically arranged engagement to Ayato. Thoma was an ally to me as well in a myriad of ways. And, as for Ayato, though I preferred not to consider it, I had become attached to him as well.

My fingers tapped out a nonsensical beat against the table in front of me as I considered what my future might hold now.

Before, it had been marriage and then a family life with the Kamisato clan as I assisted in leading the clan itself. But now I didn’t know.

And even with the crystal clear realization of my lack of knowledge, I still viewed everyone at the Kamisato clan as close, important friends, and I knew without a shadow of a doubt that I would never tell anyone about Ayato’s vampirism. Especially since I knew that would most definitely result in a witch hunt that would likely end in the death of the man I’d come to care for. And even if I hadn’t grown to care for him, I still wouldn’t say anything because I knew perfectly well how much vampires were feared.

After all, up until that fateful night that was not so long ago, I’d genuinely believed that there weren’t any vampires in Inazuma. It had been lauded as one of the few good effects of the Sakoku decree. Because when nothing else could get into Inazuma, the same could be said for vampires.

Which led to the question of how, exactly, Ayato had become one? At the very least, his vampirism did explain his distaste for public appearances, but that hardly remedied the issue.

Because I had to admit that, even after I’d had time to process it all, the knowledge of his vampirism was unsettling.

Though whether that was because he was a vampire or because he hadn’t told me, I didn’t know.

I hardly knew how I’d react or what I’d say when I next saw Ayato, especially after Ayaka and Thoma had hurriedly bundled me out of the Kamisato clan that evening with reassurances that everything would be explained and earnest pleas for me to not say anything.

Which left only one thing as being for sure. That I would most definitely see Ayato again. 

But that came as no surprise. Ayato wasn’t one to leave things hanging. Which meant it was just a matter of time until I had to face him and make my final decision about what I was going to do.

As if on cue, my door was knocked on lightly, and I called out tiredly as I glanced its way, fully expecting to see either my father, with questions about the silence from Ayato despite our upcoming wedding, or a maid, “Come in.”

My eyes widened as, rather than anyone I’d expected, Ayato stepped in with a sly smile on his face that was by now perfectly familiar after our numerous marriage meetings. 

His appearance here alone was enough to tell me that night had already fallen, and I faltered as he calmly closed the door behind him.

“I thought that I might surprise you, and it seems I have caught you wholly off-guard,” His tone was as ever, polite with just a hint of amusement that was clearly visible on his face.

I swallowed, barely getting started speaking before I immediately had to correct myself as I realized, yet again, that I no longer knew where I stood with this man, my husband-to-be, “Aya— Mr. Kamisato. I’d expected word, but not—”

“Not for me to personally come and visit?” His eyes glimmered with unconcealed amusement as he watched me start to scramble to my feet before he amusedly held up a single hand to stop me, “Don’t worry, you can stay seated. I do believe we’re close enough to not have to worry about formalities or polite titles while it's just the two of us, at the very least.”

I sank back down in silent relief. I hadn’t realized it until I started to stand, but the moment he’d come in my legs had begun to feel weak with bundled up anxiety that had been festering the entire time I’d waited on some sort of word from him.

And I didn’t even bother to hide my surprise as I watched Ayato calmly walk over and sit down across from me. Apparently giving me time to collect my thoughts as he elegantly got himself settled.

And finally, after just a little more idle adjusting, he smiled at me in quiet amusement, “I’m sure you have many questions?”

I nodded lightly at his words, quietly noting how his smile was wholly at odds with the cold expression he’d worn the night I’d found out what he was. This was the Ayato, with his all-too frequent mischievousness and habit of laughing at others, that I knew and had grown fond of. But I couldn’t but remain wary of the other side of him that I’d gained a mere glimpse of that night.

I did my best to force myself back into a state of reasonably neutral calm, though, as I responded, “And I’m sure you have many concerns.”

I trailed off, eyeing him carefully but finding myself met with a perfectly calm mask of politeness that had me frowning slightly. Because he’d always been better at this game than I was, having no doubt played it countless times with varying political opponents from a very young age.

I surrendered with a soft sigh, realizing that there was no way I’d get any answers by playing this game with him when I was quite so outmatched, “When did you get turned into a vampire?”

My voice came out soft. Low enough that I doubted much of anyone could hear what I said beyond Ayato. And if he was bothered by my admittedly blunt question, he didn’t show it on his face as his tone shifted to something more businesslike, “Shortly after my parents died. I suspect it was something of any assassination attempt from someone who’d made it across the sea.”

I frowned at his words, silently noting how devoid of emotion they were.

That had been a tumultuous time for the Kamisato clan, and something I’d only really learned about through hearsay until I’d become engaged to Ayato.

But taking over as the clan head had no doubt been difficult enough for Ayato. Coping with being turned into a vampire as well though…..

I stayed silent as he continued, trying not to pay too much attention to how the mischievous gleam had disappeared from Ayato’s eyes in the same way that his polite smile was gone. Making him resemble the way he’d look that night more and more as he spoke, “Ayaka, Thoma, and a few others at the Kamisato Estate, as well as yourself since you found out, are the only ones who know.”

I shifted uncomfortably, not surprised by the small number but also not at all confident about my position on that list.

I was hesitant as I met his light-colored eyes, my fingers twitching where I’d linked them together under the table, “And what do you plan on doing?”

I was proud that my voice didn’t waver as I eyed him, but in no way was I prepared for the smile that spread across his face. Like a ripple flowing out across water and causing my eyes to widen even as he spoke, “I intend to move forward, as I’d already planned too.”

He paused, leaving me hanging as he reached into his sleeve and pulled out a single, perfectly pink camellia that I stared at in slight surprise even as he continued with an all-too-pleased expression, “So let me ask, this time without any political pressure on either of us. Would you do me the honor of marrying me?”

[appl3kenpii]

birds of a feather ➳ chapter 2

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ . . ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : .

Hinata was very aware that they were graduating soon. That was why they had to leave a good impression for the first and second years that would fill their vacuum in the team, and that was why Hinata needed Kageyama to be on top of his game for the upcoming match. It would be one of the last, especially with exams coming up. So he handled it the way he knew best.

He cornered Kageyama some days before the match, after practice, since everyone else had left the two alone as per usual. Kageyama had been consistently leaving practice a bit earlier than usual since last week, but Hinata had just chalked it up to that being an unintended consequence of his reckless bike riding and Kageyama’s desire to avoid any more of his generosity. Now he wasn’t so convinced. Kageyama had been putting some of the balls away in the storage room when Hinata approached, tip-toeing as if he had something to hide.

”Kageyama,” he mumbled awkwardly. For all his efforts and planning, Hinata actually had no clue how to approach the situation. What was he supposed to say? That Kageyama had been acting off? That he was worried? As if he could survive saying that to the King. ”Um…”

”What?” Kageyama turned around with an unimpressed expression, crossing his arms, taking advantage of their height difference to look down on Hinata in a way that felt rather condescending.

I’m done for, Hinata thought. He’s gonna sentence me to death. “Are you okay?”

All that followed for some long terrible seconds was silence. Kageyama looked away for a moment, and Hinata could’ve sworn he saw a hint of pink on his cheeks. Finally, he turned back around and kept on organizing some things in the storage, although there was nothing to organize as far as Hinata knew, so it just looked like Kageyama was rummaging through equipment.

“I’m fine,” he said while still looking away, and Hinata cursed himself for not thinking of what to do in this very likely outcome of Kageyama deflecting the question. Racking his brain for a way forward, he gave up and decided to just be direct.

”Are you sure? Are you worried about exams?” Hinata took a step to stand next to him, although Kageyama still avoided his gaze. “I don’t think I’d be much help, but two heads are better than one…”

Kageyama sighed a very nasty sigh. “Not that.” He didn’t elaborate.

Hinata was getting fed up. He knew that he should be patient, because for Kageyama to act like this, whatever was bothering him must have been serious. But he just didn’t have the mental capacity to keep dancing around the subject.

”I’m worried about you,” Hinata admitted. They had known each other for years. They could afford to act like best friends that spoke without emotional riddles, once in a while. “We… um, the team… we don’t have much time left together. Shouldn’t we make the most of it?”

No response. Fine, Hinata thought. If that’s how you’re gonna want to spend our last months on the same team, our last months together, then -

“Okay.”

”…Okay? Okay what?”

”Let’s make the most of it.”

Hinata beamed. His poorly planned prodding had worked, and… actually, no. Kageyama looked even more miserable than before. His lips were in a tight line as he rummaged through the storage still, as if he was waiting for Hinata to leave. But that was the one thing Hinata refused to do.

”Ukai’s place is still open,” Hinata suggested. “Let’s go get a snack, then, if you wanna make the most of it like you said,” he challenged, because if there was one way to get Kageyama to do what you wanted, it was by challenging him. Kageyama gave him a displeased smirk.

⋆

”What’s his deal?” Tsukishima asked after practically dragging Hinata to a far away aisle. He and Yamaguchi had the same idea, and had been hanging out at Ukai’s when Hinata and Kageyama arrived.

”I don’t know!” Hinata whispered. “How am I supposed to know?”

“I thought you could read his mind or something with how much time you freak pair spend together,” Tsukishima joked. He then took one glance at Kageyama, who was listlessly standing to the side as Yamaguchi spoke to him stiffly. “I mean it. He looks… pathetic. What agony could possibly be ailing this guy…” he added with a scoff.

For some reason, the way Tsukishima was talking bothered Hinata. A lot. “Well, we all suffer if he doesn’t get better.”

”Insightful comment from Shoyo.”

Hinata gave him a glare.

”Maybe he’s heartbroken over losing his best spiker in the upcoming months,” Tsukishima speculated. No way. He didn’t sound like he was being sarcastic, but he must have been.

“This isn’t the time for jokes. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this bad…”

“Have you talked to him?”

“I’ve tried!”

“Clearly not hard enough.”

Hinata groaned. Tsukishima was a real pain, but he was right. He would get Kageyama to admit what was making him like this, and he would do it that night. He walked up to the counter and checked out a little carton of milk, then stepped towards Yamaguchi and Kageyama. Tsukishima soon followed, more snacks in hand. Hinata almost fell backwards when he offered one to Kageyama. Another little carton of milk, chocolate flavored. Tsukishima didn’t even say anything, just handed the carton to Kageyama without a word. Hinata had seen him be nice like that, once or twice in the past years, but it always felt like a shock.

“We’re gonna get going,” Yamaguchi said, giving Kageyama one last badly disguised look of concern. “Tsukki and I are gonna study. I can give you guys some notes, if you want…”

Tsukishima gave him a look, as if saying, giving him milk I bought with my own money is charity enough. What makes you think he needs help studying? “See you two tomorrow,” he said, turning to leave with Yamaguchi, but not before giving Hinata one last knowing look. Yamaguchi threw him a little thumbs up.

Now it was just Hinata and Kageyama, again. They always ended up alone with one another somehow. Kageyama stood off to the side sipping the chocolate milk.

“You’re gonna tell me what’s wrong,” Hinata said confidently. “You will.”

“Are you like… trying to hypnotize me into doing that?”

Hinata laughed. “I’m serious. You’re gonna tell me, right now.”

Kageyama sucked in some air through his teeth, the way people do when they’re in pain. “Fine, but only because you won’t leave me alone. After we leave I’ll tell you.”

Hinata drank his milk so fast he almost choked. He had to keep insisting for Kageyama to speed up, and it still took them over ten minutes to leave, because he kept drinking slowly on purpose. They waved Coach Ukai, who had been on the phone, goodbye.

It wasn’t snowing that night, but the remnants of the past few days could still be seen on the ground, and it was still cold enough to see your own breath. Hinata pushed his bike along as the two walked, matching his steps with Kageyama’s for no specific reason. Due to their differing heights he consequently began to lag behind, so he had to abandon that idea.

“So?”

Kageyama stopped for a moment, unspeaking. He looked puzzled, like he didn’t know the answer to the question himself. “I just,” he thought for a moment. “Haven’t felt well lately.”

“You’re sick?” Hinata gasped. The Date Tech game was close. He knew he should’ve given Kageyama more bike rides home.

He shook his head. “Not that type of not feeling well. I tried to tell you last week, too.”

“Nuh uh, you didn’t say anything like that!”

“That’s because you wouldn’t let me get a word in!”

Hinata didn’t really believe that, but he wasn’t there to argue, so he shut up with a pout. “Well, tell me now.”

“I guess… I just feel weird about graduation.”

Graduation. Hinata hadn’t given it that much thought outside of how it was going to impact volleyball. But graduation was scary. Kageyama had plenty of offers from teams for after graduation, though, so Hinata couldn’t imagine what about it bothered him.

Kageyama elaborated in response to his silence. “It’s stupid. It’s just that a lot’s gonna change.”

Hinata only really thought deeply about that now. He was right. A lot was gonna change. For Hinata, he had briefly considered that Kageyama and him wouldn’t be practicing together almost everyday, playing on the same team. Being each other’s strongest weapon. It felt more serious now. But surely that wasn’t what Kageyama meant. Hinata had always depended on him a bit more than the other way around. Kageyama would be fine without him.

That bothered him. But he couldn’t understand why.

“I feel the same,” he mumbled, not bothering to explain further. “But that’s exactly why we should make the most of it. And I’m still here,” he added, regretting it immediately. That was too forward, too much.

Kageyama gave him a smile. Not the scary one he gave on the court, but one filled with… relief? Not relief, but something like it. “Yeah… yeah. I guess you’re still here,” he almost whispered.

Hinata’s heart quickened inexplicably. Kageyama stood barely illuminated by a street light. His breaths came and went, little clouds in the air.

“Uh. I should get going,” Kageyama added, breaking off that strange moment.

“Ah. Yeah. Yeah, uh, do you want a ride?”

Kageyama laughed a bit, head tilted back. “See you later.”

“Yeah,” Hinata said to himself, since Kageyama had already walked off. “See you later.”

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ . . ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : .

chapter 3 - in progress…

[bigmeatbro]

By now, when you've discovered yourself to be a cockpred for at least a decade, you start to easily recognize when that feeling of hunger down there begins, and your cock wants something to swallow. But with practice you can control that hunger for a little while if you have to, like if you aren't able to swallow someone in that moment. Hell, some preds prefer to wait for the right moment to strike, not to rush having a meal, and can wait a long time for a good prey. Regardless of how a pred eats however, just like hunger for food, sometimes you can go from 0 to 100 in terms of needing prey. And you'll become desperate to satisfy that craving, you can't ignore those pred instincts forever. It's very dangerous for a pred to tone down that side of them for too long of a time. Well, at least dangerous for any unlucky soul who meets a starved pred.

I was hitting up my best friend Rick at our usual pub hangout this evening. We first met as teens in school and we've been tight since day one. Love that dude, he always got me. Still, even if he was my bro I could never bring myself to tell him what my cock does. I never even once thought of eating him before, he was that close to me. Anyway, tonight was supposed to a normal night out, and it's been a while since we met up, about a week ago. We normally hang out every day. He's been incredibly busy with work and so have I. Coincidentally, my last cock meal was also about a week ago, and it has been needing prey badly. A week with no prey is roughly my limit. My cock has never gone a full week with no meal, there's always a few at the minimum per week. I only have so much reserves before it would just swallow the first guy it senses, no matter who it is, and no matter where we are. I'd love to have shoved a guy down my shaft by then, I just haven't had the time to properly hunt this week. I knew it was a risk to meet up with Rick without a good meal in me, but with how our schedules are, it had to be like this. I thought that once he left I'd immediately find a different guy right after and swallow the bastard in private, but my hunger had other plans.

Rick and I had a few beers at the bar already, and I had to break the seal, and went to take a leak. He had to go as well and joined me in the washroom. It was just us in there. Suddenly, I feel an incredible hunger form just as I'm about to finish my piss. I've been neglecting my pred instincts for so long. I feel a bit dazed and really warm. Fuck... my nuts need to churn someone badly. My cock maw is drooling for food, my pre already spewing a bit. I need cock food!! I went into pred mode, and instantly I was wanting to go for Rick since it was just us. Sure he's been a good friend... but I could get other friends, right? At this point, Rick is still taking a leak as my cock is starting to expand. Then I have a quick relapse; should I really take away my best friend like this?... No, I need to eat. This is how it is. Plus, this way he can get to know the real me, even if it will be brief.

Just then, this other dude comes in and takes the spot inbetween me and Rick. Boy did he pick a bad time to piss, he became a shield to Rick. With my hunger being so extreme in that moment plus knowing that I might not eat my best friend, I said fuck it. I finally let go of everything and I was nothing more than a starved cock pred in that moment. I didn't even care to see if this dude was my type of cock food I would go for normally. I didn't care how Rick would think of me after he saw what I do. I grabbed my prey on the back of his neck just as my cock grew to a few foot long, then longer, and it went right for his head. I shoved him even deeper in my shaft, my dick slit slurping him in further. He was wailing inside and freaking out as the shaft walls closed in on him, which got wide on the outsider when his whole torso got in. I know my cock was especially hungry after waiting all this time because usually mine likes taking a minute to enjoy the feeling of a meal go down, but this guy was already knees deep in my cock in a matter of seconds, a personal record for me. Even his clothes felt amazing being swallowed in the shaft instead of being a bit chaffing inside. I was that hungry. Fuck, it felt good to let my cock go to town. The only piece of clothing that didn't get in were his shoes, with his clean high tops falling to the floor from the tip of my cock, which was several feet tall at its apex with this guy fully in it. Now that my cock was satisfied, I took a second to see just who I ate. Judging by what I felt inside, along with the outline of him, it was some tall broad fella, probably a gym bro. Damm, he felt fantastic each time his big body tried to escape, but my precum let him slide down to my nuts in no time. Once that happened and he fell in, I took a bit of a breather and my cock started to slowly go back to its normal-big shape.

Through all of that, I get a jolt of memory... Rick! Did I swallow him too, or did I not? I turn my head to see Rick looking shocked as hell from the ordeal. I don't think he will ever realize just how close he was to being in my balls right now. "Bro, the fuck did you just do?" he uttered in only a semi-concerned voice. I explained that I gotta eat. As this guy was squirming in my nuts thrashing for help while being turned to ball batter, I told Rick about me being a cockpred and what that means. Maybe he was more tipsy than I thought, but after explaining all of that, all he did was just laugh and said "That's downright insane man. Damm you're wild!" and patted me on the back with a smirk. I chuckle. That's why I love this guy, nothing fazes Rick, even when making a guy some snack for my dick in front of him. By now, I knew that I already digested this dude based on how he stopped moving in my balls suddenly, and they looked more smooth and a bit smaller now. That surprised me, I never have churned someone this fast before. I was beyond hungry. Rick asked me then what happens after my cock ate someone. Knowing that I need to unload badly, I paused and said "Just watch".

It only takes a few strokes when I'm hard to blast this churned up guy out. I was already quite turned on by the whole situation since it was so spontaneous, but this sent me over the edge. I barely had enough time to tell Rick to stand back before I was shooting so much cum everywhere. It shot out super fast and went on for a long time. It was peeling paint off tiles, splattered back off the wall and hitting us in recoil, cracking and denting the metal in the urinals... my churned loads being powerful (even by normal pred standards) are one of my favourite parts of being a cock pred. Makes me feel like a god. I already blasted gallons but there was more. I shot out some of my meal's clothes towards the end. Baseball cap, tank top, gold chain, basketball shorts... totally drenched and soaked in this thick bro cum, firing out of me one after the other. After a whole minute of gushing out like a broken fire hydrant, my cock relaxes and I manage to finally get my junk back in my shorts. It's a snug fit, but that's how it is if you eat someone in public rapidly. The whole time, Rick was in pure awe. Once it was all done, he yelled "You're a fucking beast! Had no idea you could do that, you gotta teach me that shit!" like he just watched a freakshow. I just laughed and reminded him that nobody is truly safe from a cockpred, dropping him a hint. All in all, it was a good night. I managed to get a good meal in, and Rick not only knows about my pred status but seems cool with my secret life. Maybe I should introduce him to more aspects of it...

[msfantasy]

Unbecoming

Summary: Anne is off travelling, while Sebastian is kept busy completing missions assigned by the ministry. Leaving Y/n to care for Feldcroft in their absence.

Warning: Sexual themes, swearing.

Sebastian x Reader

Sebastian trudges back to Feldcroft from his long exhausting and stressful week completing the mission the Ministry had assigned to him. Due to Sebastians excellent work, he was able to complete the mission 3 weeks ahead of schedule.

Sebastian was elated to complete his work early, earning himself a vacation in the process. There was just one irritation that scratched at him as he looked towards Feldcroft.

It was the fact that Y/n L/n was sitting in his favourite wooden lawn chair. She sits comfortably leaning back reading the Daily Prophet, tight clothes leaving little to the imagination, her leg kicked over the arm rest, a towel wrapped around her hair, with a cigarette hanging delicately from her lips.

Dear Merlin, what was Anne's brat of a friend doing in his beloved sanctuary. Walking up behind her, his voice booms.

"Why are you here? Where is Anne?And why are you prancing my property looking like that?" Sebastian spits in rapid fire. Y/n shuttered in surprise at his sudden appearance.

"Oh? I thought you weren't meant to be back for another 3 weeks." Y/n answers tilting her head towards Sebastian with little effort. He continues to stare down at her barely clothes form in irritation.

"Answer my questions." He demands, making Y/n throw her papers in irritation.

"Oh hi Y/n, lovely to see you again." Y/n says acting as Sebastian. "Why hello Sebastian, it is wonderful to see you as well. You might be wondering why I am here, it's because Anne left in a hurry when the Romanian Ministry recalled her back. Anne left me in charge until you have arrived back in 3 weeks time." Y/n switches back to Sebastians grumbly voice. "Thank you dearly for your assistance. Might I add how radiant you look." Y/n playfully slaps Sebastians arm. "Oh why thank you Sebastian - you naughty boy." She says with a wink walking back to the house.

"Thank you for you help Y/n - truely kind. Now get out." He says following in pursuit. Y/n's eyes go wide at the abrupt kicking.

"Seb - I cannot leave so suddenly." Sebastian walks through straight to the guest room where Y/n's belongings are placed away, he pulls out her bags to help her pack and leave.

"Yes you can- the leaky cauldron is not far from here." He says coldly. Panic rises within the intruding girl.

"They have no vacancies!" She rushes to her bags, and putting them away. A frustrated groan passes Sebastians lips.

"Why must you be here longer? You were leaving in 3 weeks anyway." Y/n slumps on the bed.

"If you must know Sebastian." She spits with a side eye at his typical rudeness. "Phineas has been following me around town, declaring his hideous undying love for me as per usual. Only now the towns people are shaming me for 'leading him on' and that I should just 'take the sad chap out of his misery' and return his affections. I mean isn't that insane! I just need a break from them." She pleads looking up at a stunned Sebastian.

"Aren't you - aren't you already in a romantic relationship with Phineas?" He mutters quitely. Horror crosses her face.

"Ew Merlin no! What makes you think that?!" Sebastian becomes sheepish at the realisation.

"It's just ... in our final year after we..." He looks off refusing eye contact. "Spent the night together. Phineas was bragging in the common room on how you two kissed earlier that very night and begging for him, and that you two were officially going steady..." He looks back at her blank face.

"All of these years we could've been together. We weren't. Because you believed pants of fire Phineas?" She asked blankly, a blush crossed Sebastians face.

"Well how was i suppose to know? You two were always together and he said-" An angry voice cuts him off.

"We were always together because the stupid prick would follow me everywhere like an unwanted cockroach!" She says dismissively. "Sebastian- do you understand how much love I had for you, do you know the heart break you put me through when you acted cold towards me the very next day?!" Angry tears pricked at your eyes, lips sealed shut refusing to speak another word.

Sebastian pulls you in gently as your face plants right into his comforting chest. "I'm sorry - I'm stupid." She huffs an agreement. "I thought my affections were not returned. I was so heart broken. I hated how my feelings for you never left. But now its all too late, and I could've been with you - had i just talked to you." She looks up from his chest.

"It'll make me feel better if you kiss me." She says shyly. He leans down and plants a gentle kiss on her lips, as if she would evaporate in his arms. "Again?" He turns his head and plants another gentle kiss. "Kiss me like you did that night?" He places his fingers behind her neck, rubbing his thumb along her jaw he presses his lips to her. She opens her mouth slipping her tongue in his mouth making him sigh in relief at the connection. Her nails drag down the back of his neck making him arch into her body.

She presses harder against him feeling his excitement. She breaks away from his mouth kissing down his neck to find that sweet spot she found all those years ago, he groans in satisfaction.

"I often think about having you again-" He claims as she trails her kisses down his torso. "More times than I care to count."

She places another kiss on his lips. "We only have 3 weeks until Anne returns. You have many years to make up for." She grins pressing harder into him.

[supermarine-silvally]

❤️ + Portada pls!! -🍂

Part 2 of this!

❤️ first kiss / realization

Something was terribly, horribly wrong. 

Ace had first noticed it at breakfast. He had stuffed his plate with as much bacon as Thatch would let him get away with and sauntered over to his usual spot, wedging himself between Yara and Marco. The First Division Commander had greeted him as per usual, but Yara didn’t even bother to glance up from the saddest bowl of oatmeal Ace had ever seen; the only garnishing on it two solitary raisins. 

(He knew for a fact that she didn’t even like raisins. They reminded her too much of the crappy communion wine at the convent she grew up at, she’d told him once, scrunching her nose up in that adorable way she did whenever she found something particularly unsatisfactory.)

Throughout the rest of the day, things seemed to only get worse. She kept her gaze down and her answers monosyllabic whenever he tried to interact with her-- and that was when she didn’t outright leave the room as soon as he entered. 

“Trouble in paradise, yoi?” Marco had asked him when he caught Ace moping around on the Moby Dick’s upper deck.

Ace let out a massive, depressed sigh in response, draping his arms over the gunwale. Part of him almost wished a strong gust of wind would come along and knock him into the water. “I think I did something wrong, Marco. I haven’t seen her this upset with me since before I officially joined the crew.”

The doctor placed his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “You need to talk to her about it. I’m sure whatever it is can easily be fixed. Yara may be stubborn, but she’s not unreasonable.”

“That’s… true,” Ace conceded. He stood up straight, his determination renewed. “I’ll go find her. The sooner I can sort this out, the better.”

“Good luck, yoi,” Marco said, giving him a firm pat on the back. 

And that was what led him here, hanging out near the entrance to the mess hall, biding his time. There was no way that Yara could avoid him forever… could she?

“Ace.”

He instantly perked up, a relieved grin spreading across his face as he caught sight of her heading towards him, a file stuffed with papers tucked under her arm. She, however, did not return his joy, but instead stared emotionlessly back at him as she handed him the file. “Pops said to give this to you.”

He nodded, receiving it from her. “Oh, thanks! …Right, these are the maps I wanted to see.”

Yara gave him a curt nod in return before pivoting back towards the entranceway.

“Wait, where are you going?”

She stopped, turning to face him again, her eyes narrowed. “I came. I gave you the file. And now I’m leaving.”

“Yara!” Ace called out after her, dropping the file onto a nearby table. He reached for her hand, but his fingers passed straight through her. His brow furrowed, confused. Now she was using her Devil Fruit powers with him? She never did that.  

“I’m not in the mood, Ace,” was all she replied, her tone icy.

His entire body wilted, heart thudding pitifully in his chest as she left the mess hall without so much as a second glance. Oh, he had definitely fucked something up. 

☠-----⚔-----☠-----⚔-----☠

“Yaraaaaa…” Ace knocked on her bedroom door. “Can we talk? Please?”

He held his breath, waiting. Finally, after a moment, the latch clicked. Yara opened the door a crack. She was wearing her nightdress, her loose hair cascading down her shoulders. Ace couldn’t help but notice the dark circles lingering under her eyes as she stared at him. 

Swallowing, he took a step back. “Hi.”

“It’s late, Ace.”

“I know. I couldn’t sleep.”

“Then I suppose you’ve come to let me down easy,” she said with a sigh.

His brow furrowed. “Let you down what?”

“Never mind. I shouldn’t delay the inevitable. Shall we go somewhere more private than the living quarters?”

Nodding, he allowed her to step out of her room before following her down the hallway. She led him down the stairs and outside to the second level balcony. The stars glinted overhead as the Moby Dick gently careened along its path, cutting through the ocean’s calm surface. Yara leaned against the railing, the faint breeze catching the edge of her nightdress. Just the sight of her underneath the moon’s light was enough to make Ace’s stomach twist into knots. 

He sucked in a breath. There was no way he could let this go on any longer. “It’s the stupid dare thing, isn’t it? That’s why you’re upset with me.”

“I’m not upset with you,” Yara replied evenly. “I’m upset with myself.”

“What? Why?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Yes, it does. It matters a lot. Especially if I… if I did something to hurt you. Please, Yara. You’re…” He swallowed. “You’re one of my best friends. Whatever it is, I’ll make it right.”

Yara glanced away from him, a conflicted look flickering through her eyes. “I… made a foolish miscalculation,” she said after a moment. “I thought that… perhaps you might…” She hesitated. For a moment, he could’ve sworn he saw a faint blush spread across her cheeks. “That, well… That kissing me wouldn’t have been as intolerable for you as it evidently was.”

“Intolerable?” His brow furrowed. “Kissing you wouldn’t be intolerable.”

“Oh, please.” Her glare narrowed as it returned to rest on him. “You dragged your feet and then turned away at the last second. How the hell else could I possibly interpret that, Ace? From my standpoint, it was a fairly obvious rejection.” 

Ace’s heart was practically beating out of his chest as the realization slowly dawned on him. “Hold on a minute. You… wanted me to kiss you?”

Yara’s nose scrunched up, her mouth drawing into a tight line like it did whenever she was frustrated by something. Finally, she turned away with a sigh. “…You’re an idiot of the most hopeless variety. Let’s just forget this ever happened.”

“Yara, wait.” He reached towards her, catching her hand. This time, her flesh stayed solid, and he curled his fingers around hers as he pulled her in. 

She let out a surprised gasp as one of his hands moved to her waist, the other tenderly cupping her face. Her skin felt so soft as he lightly stroked her cheek, the butterflies that had been nesting in his stomach bursting to life. 

“Last night, I really, really wanted to kiss you,” he breathed. 

“Then why didn’t you?” she whispered, eyes widening as his fingers traced along the small of her back. 

“Because I didn’t want our first kiss to be something either of us would regret,” he confessed. “You’re too special to me for that.”

“Ace…”

“I never thought I’d meet someone like you, Yara. Someone who just… accepted me so easily. Who didn’t care at all about my good-for-nothing father. The last thing I ever would’ve wanted is for you to think I only kissed you because Haruta dared me to, and not because I’m madly, stupidly in love with you, and I have been ever since Pops brought me onto this ship.”

Her eyes went unnaturally wide. “What?”

“Oh.” Ace blinked, his hand leaving her waist to awkwardly scratch the back of his neck. “Shoot, did I just say that out loud?”

He took her stunned silence as an affirmative. “So, uh… would it be okay if I kissed you now?”

“Please,” Yara breathed, leaning in. Their foreheads pressed lightly together, noses brushing as they revelled in each other’s warmth. His arms wrapped around her waist, the cotton fabric of her nightdress bunching between his fingers as he pulled her tight to his chest. She clung to his bare shoulders, the tips of her fingers smoothing along his collarbone, each feather-light touch setting off fireworks in his stomach.

“You’re so beautiful, Hellcat,” he murmured against her lips, feeling her breath hitch. 

“Kiss me already, Fire Fist,” she whispered, the neediness in her voice sending a jolt of pleasure throughout his entire body, small flames flickering involuntarily off his skin.

He wasted no more time in closing the gap between them, lips slotting into place as if they were always meant to do so. The whole world ceased to exist around him as their mouths moved in sync, the taste of her flooding his senses, all the pent-up love he’d kept locked in his heart for so long finally flowing freely through him.

One hand slowly drifted upwards, tangling in her long violet hair as he cupped the back of her neck, pressing himself forwards to dip her down, stealing a tiny gasp of air before continuing the kiss. He could feel Yara’s lips twitch upwards, the sensation making him grin into the kiss as well. 

They broke away, foreheads coming to rest against each other’s as Ace cradled Yara’s cheek in his palm. “I love you,” he admitted. “I’m sorry for not telling you sooner, and for being such an idiot last night.”

Yara laughed softly. “After that kiss, you’re definitely forgiven. And I…” Her face flushed, looking away for a moment before returning her heterochromatic gaze to meet his dark eyes. “I love you too, Portgas D. Ace. You dummy.”

“You love me too,” he repeated, unable to keep himself from grinning wildly. His heart felt as if it were on fire, burning with an intense, aching passion. I never thought I’d ever hear anyone say those words to me. I’m hardly deserving of them, yet… Yet it still feels so nice.

He slipped an arm around her waist, letting her rest her head on his shoulder as they both gazed out at the moon and stars beyond. “So… where do we go from here?”

She shrugged. “Wherever we want, I suppose. We’ll figure it out together.”

Smiling, he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “That sounds perfect.”

tagging: @auxiliarydetective @oneirataxia-girl @daughter-of-melpomene (and @box-of-bats too if you want the narrative resolution to the last prompt hehe)

[engagedtobefree]

I haven’t done a life update in a while, even though there’s been many times over the course of these past several months where I’ve wanted to take to my keyboard and type away. I just haven’t had the time. Things have been a bit all over the place; sometimes in bad ways, sometimes in good ways, mostly in neutral. I have been weaving in and out of stress, hope, anxiety, peace, despondency, and vivacity like a constant thread stitching through life. It’s been a bit nerve-wracking, but I’m doing the best I can.

I’ve been having a lot of financial struggles as this year has progressed, and I’ve finally resigned myself to getting a work-from-home part-time job. I hope to update my resume this week and start sending it out. I’ve been using apps on my phone to make some side cash here and there, but with all the hours I put in and little payoff, my time is better suited elsewhere. I also want to work on some passive income stuff, but that will have to come after I have another job with steady income. I also have some things I’ve been meaning to sell for forever, and I should put those up since it’s the holiday season now. I don’t really ever buy myself anything, and I didn’t even want to purchase the few items I needed for my Halloween costume (luckily I already owned a few things), but I figured life is too short to just put everything towards bills. I also couldn’t afford the vacation I just went on. I can barely afford my groceries. I’ve been using Amazon gift cards from surveys to buy things I need on there. My only monthly allowances are my two book subscriptions and a yoga subscription, which only come out to about $54 a month. I’ve cut back so much on groceries that cutting back even more means either eating more unhealthily, skipping meals, or eating much smaller portions. I’ve resigned myself to start going to food pantries to get a few things. It won’t be a huge help, but if I can knock even $10 off my grocery list every week, that will be something. I was supposed to go to one today, but mistakenly thought they were open until 11:30 when they were only open until 11. I woke up around 9 and got out of bed around 9:25, so I had plenty of time, but I completely forgot about it until 10:30, so I will just go next week. I would be fine financially if I didn’t have my car payment, but I needed a new car last year and I went with the cheapest I could find that was brand new. I’m pretty sure one of my tires might need replacing because the light keeps coming on despite me filling them, which is frustrating. If I taught more yoga classes, that would help too, but I’m not ready to go back to that just yet since my own personal practice has suffered a lot this past year. 

I don’t even know where to start with everything else. I guess I’ll start with Scott. He’s come over to hang out a few times, which is fine. I like being friends. The only problem is, I can tell he still wants more. He always replies to my Snapchat stories (usually with compliments), reaches out maybe every other Friday or so asking if I’m free, then makes sure to compliment me some more once he’s in my presence. He hasn’t tried anything and he’s been respectful, but I think he has hope that he’s going to wear down my resolve and that something will happen between us. It won’t. I made it very clear last year about only wanting a friendship, and that hasn’t changed. Once I make up my mind, that’s it. That’s all there is. It takes me a very long time to make big decisions like the one I made with Scott, so by the time I make it, I am very sure of my answer. I left no room for guessing or doubt. There was one night though that I am kicking myself for. Back maybe 2 or 3 months ago, Scott came over with a 4 pack he thought I’d like. He did good with the drink, I will give him credit for that, but the alcohol percentage per can was almost 12%, which I don’t think he did on purpose. I had 2 cans of those along with another drink or 2, and long story short, I blacked out, which hasn’t happened in like 8 years. I don’t drink that much now that I’m older, so I can’t hold my alcohol well. I resurfaced only once, and I was holding Scott’s arm and chatting away. I am a very affectionate and bubbly drunk. Sober me is not much of a people person, but drunk me just adores everyone. Back in my early 20’s, I would kiss my friends, usually my female ones, all the time. It was always platonically. When I got a boyfriend during that time period, he was still okay with me kissing my girl friends, which was fine with me, as just having a boyfriend would have been enough. Even if I have just one person to give affection to, I’m good. And I am still completely loyal, no matter how far gone I get. That is something that is simply integral in who I am as a person. Obviously now that I’m 33 I’m not acting exactly how I was when I was in my early 20s, but I will still be chatty and affectionate, even if it’s just a light arm touch or something. I am so mad at myself for grabbing Scott’s arm like that though, because I don’t want to send mixed signals. I am not a mixed signals kind of person. I have no desire to lead someone on or to continue dealing with something I don’t want to deal with. I would hope that something like that wouldn’t spark any hope in him, but Scott has persisted despite me giving absolutely nothing else. Hell, he’s persisted despite me setting a very clear boundary for our relationship. I do not know how to handle this from here, because I already previously told him what I wanted. He hasn’t tried anything or asked for anything, so it makes me feel weird to just bring it up out of the blue without a catalyst. But because I don’t want to deal with it, I’m probably going to have to do that. I don’t know. I wouldn’t go so far as to say it’s frustrating, but I just don’t want to have to deal with it.

Anyway, apparently the night I blacked out, I decided to lay down on my sofa and go to sleep while Scott was still there. I woke up around 8 a.m. the next day, instantly panicked. I didn’t remember falling asleep or Scott leaving. A quick body scan told me nothing happened, and when I went downstairs, I could see Scott turned the bottom lock when he left. I don’t think Scott would do anything to me, but there’s just certain scenarios where I’ve woken up and I’m 21 again and there’s a man’s fingers going in and out of me. I don’t think about it very often, but a part of me still fears that happening again.

Scott hasn’t come over that often, only a few times since maybe the beginning of the summer. There were two nights when he came over where towards the end of him being there, I started to wish he was Chris. I know that sounds kind of weird, and I don’t have an explanation for that, but I felt a really strong desire to be in Chris’s presence and to be talking to him instead. I felt bad because that isn’t fair to Scott, but I don’t think that I would have felt that way had Scott not been hitting on me throughout the night. I don’t want anyone to hit on me except for Chris. Both times, immediately after Scott left, my brain went, “Let’s reach out to Chris!!!” and of course cuz I’m all buzzed I think it’s a great idea. Both times, I told him to have a wonderful weekend. He responded to both some time in the morning, just repeating what I said back to me but with the words changed to fit me instead. However, the second time, he prefaced it with “Ur so beautiful”. That took me by surprise, and I had to stop to process that before reading the rest of his message. He’s called me beautiful several times before, but I guess I wasn’t expecting it, especially since when I went back to look at the pic I sent him (thankfully, I saved it lol), I definitely looked a bit inebriated😑. For whatever reason, when he responds to a selfie of mine, I imagine being in his shoes, opening the picture, seeing what he sees. Even when it’s not selfies and even when it’s my Snap story and not anything I sent directly to him, I wonder what thoughts run through his mind, how he processes everything, what he’d have to say. I’ve never done any of that before, and I don’t know why I’m doing it now. I was a bit frustrated with myself both times for reaching out though. I had decided not to reach out to Chris until I figure out exactly what has been going on, but drunk me had to go and ruin that. It’s not really a big deal, but I thought creating some space would be helpful or beneficial in a way.

My next appointment with Chris is on November 18th, just over 1 week away. I’ve heard from him a few times recently. He reached out to wish me a happy birthday last month, and he responded to my Halloween pics by telling me I look awesome. For well over a month now, I’ve been feeling a certain shift in the air regarding Chris. I don’t know what it is yet; I only know that it’s happening. I also feel that Chris and I will be showing up to my appointment with very different intentions. I don’t know what his are, but I know that mine will be the intention of getting answers. I am not a confrontational or accusatory type of person, so it won’t be anything dramatic, but I do plan to ask questions. It will be more inquisitive than anything else. I have been going over in my mind for some time now how I want to phrase my questions, but I’m still unsure of what I plan to go with. At this point, I am thinking it depends on what sort of opening I have at my appointment, like the context of the conversation. Obviously, I won’t know what that is until I’m actually there. I am hoping to ask him about what’s going on, if he’s leading me on or not, what his intentions are. I also hope to get some answers about the girlfriend scenario, more specifically about when they broke up and if it was before or after he gave me his number and started flirting with me. The second question I anticipate to be a bit more difficult to get in. I said before that Chris doesn’t owe me anything, and he doesn’t, but if he’s been deceitful or at the very least purposely misleading at any point in time, then I do think I deserve honesty about that. He doesn’t have to give it to me, but that does not change the fact that I am deserving of it. I do not know what comes after this appointment. The only thing I can foresee is that this needs to be done, whether I like it or not. 

That brings me around to his girlfriend, or well, ex-girlfriend. I was, for many months, leaving the situation alone. I was hurt, yes, but I saw no immediate way for me to get any answers, so I carried on with my life and put my focus on other things. Of course, my mind still wandered around to Chris all the time, but then I’d reel my attention back in, telling myself there’s no reason to think about someone who is possibly not even single and that there’s also no reason to worry because I can’t change anything and I can’t get any answers yet. That has changed as my appointment has started to loom in the not-too-far-off-distance. So at the beginning of last month, I decided to check her Pinterest account since it’s the only regularly active social media account I could find on her, and to my surprise, she was posting quite often. None of it really gave me any clues though. A majority of it has been crafting and sewing stuff. There was a little craft piano thing she had pinned, but after mulling it over a bit, I decided that wasn’t enough to go off of. For maybe two weeks straight, I was checking a few times a week. About three weeks ago, I started to teeter back, reeling my anxiety back in, resigning myself to simply waiting until my appointment to get any sort of answer. About another week or so passed before I decided to check one last time. My stomach dropped when I saw a day prior, she posted to her “Love” board. That feeling immediately subsided as I clicked because something in me just knew it wasn’t going to be what it seemed. She pinned a quote about grieving the end of a relationship, about always remembering them and remembering what they gave you, but then moving forward by giving yourself love. This was all the confirmation I needed, the confirmation I was looking for, the one that was to turn the tides in a more favorable direction. I paused, processed what I had just read, then waited for the relief to wash over me. It never came.

Instead, what formed was a large knot in my chest. I felt so sorry for her. Immediately, I began to think of my 23 year old self, heartbroken because she believed she just lost the love of her life, that she’d think of him forever, that she was permanently ruined, that she’d mourn his loss until her dying day, that there was nothing and no one better than him and what they had. We were looking at apartments and planning to move in together. I thought we were going to get married one day. The break-up gutted me. I stopped counting how many nights in a row I cried myself to sleep after 2 months passed without a single night of reprieve. I didn’t even really feel remotely better whatsoever until after 6 months had passed since the break-up. When he saw me doing good, he came back around saying he missed me and wanted to try again. I saw him twice before he did a complete 180 and dropped me again. It put me right back where I started. I didn’t get over that relationship ending until about a year and half to two years later, and it took me about three for me to really see the truth of what that relationship was. I realized that he did us both a favor by ending it, that while I cared about him deeply it wasn’t truly love, that he wasn’t a person I really wanted a future with and it wouldn’t have worked between us, and that the right person wouldn’t leave me during a period of my life when I needed them the most. I felt so sorry for her because I know what it feels like and what she’s going through, and even if it isn’t exactly the same scenario and even if she doesn’t come out of it in the same way I did, I do understand in some capacity and I know how much it hurts. I also know it gets better. I went through a similar heartbreak with Scott, even though we were never in a relationship, and coming out the other end of that was also a really good thing. I am so glad things ended. That doesn’t change how difficult those times were though. It sucks when you’re going through it and you don’t see any light at the end of the deep, dark tunnel someone else has forced you down. I couldn’t feel relief at seeing that photo because there was no room for anything else except empathy. I thought it was what I wanted to see, but turns out it wasn’t.

It took me about two days after seeing that picture to realize that Chris was most likely the one who ended the relationship. That made me wonder if maybe I haven’t actually been a second choice. I’ve never faulted Chris for being in a relationship because that would be stupid and unfair, and my mind never even traveled in that direction anyway; my issue has always been if he initiated things with me before he was single and if he was still in a relationship now. Out of the many devastations that came from that knowledge, one has been that I was a second choice, a back-up plan, a safety net to fall back on when the first, preferable option didn’t work out. But what if none of that were true? I mean, obviously, I entered the scene later. What if the original choice couldn’t easily be undone and it needed time to be let go of? It never even occurred to me that Chris would think his original choice wasn’t the right choice. I have only been viewing myself as a possible outlier here, something to be eyed but never bought, a thing to be messed with and not a person to be considerate of. Another thing that crossed my mind is: what if Chris made the right choice in starting this off too early? I started thinking about which was the preferable option: Chris giving me his number while he was still taken or Chris letting me walk out that day without flirting or giving me his number. My reflexive response was to say the latter, but then I stopped to really think about it. What if it had gotten to the point of me asking for his number and he rejected me? Would I have left there mortified? Would I have started going to a different dental office after that? Or what if neither one of us attempted anything? Would I have resolved to go for it the next time or have decided he simply wasn’t interested? Of course, there is that 3rd option, where he could have ended his relationship before my appointment even rolled around. I also started to think about what has been going on on Chris’s end. What drew him to me? How did he know I was interested in the first place? Has anything I’ve experienced happened on his end too? Previously, I immediately assumed there’s no way, that all those weird things I can’t explain were only happening on my end. But what if they weren’t? What if I haven’t actually been alone in this? What if this has all been reciprocal? My thoughts are suddenly shifting in all of these new directions, and I can feel this sort of opening in my chest that wasn’t there before. I guess I never really thought about any of this previously. There had to be something that stood out to Chris beyond him simply thinking I’m pretty. These are all questions for a future day though, assuming all goes well at my next appointment.

I’m not sure when, but for at least over a month now, I’ve been mulling over my past appointments: things that happened, conversations we had, stuff I felt, Chris himself. The result of that has been creating a positive shift within me. It’s like there’s always this tug of war within me between fear and trust, and now the trust side is winning. I do still have things I need to work through and fears about relationships, but for the most part, I have shifted out of that anxiety and into the mindset of staying present with only what is here now. I still have my moments, and I plan to write about all of that soon hopefully, probably on my side blog, which I’ve been neglecting the past several months. There’s a few topics I want to write about on there because they’re so deeply personal and vulnerable, so I’d rather they not be public for anyone to comment on. Not that my long, rambling personal posts are creating any discourse up on the interwebs, but I’d like to completely erase the possibility of that happening, cuz ya know, people 🙄. Anyway, back to the trust thing. The shift started happening many weeks ago, but I do think seeing the picture his ex posted bumped that process up a bit more too. It didn’t have an immediate effect, but I can definitely feel it helped shift me along a bit further than I was. I still want to ask Chris those questions because I want to hear things from him. That’s only fair. Plus, I don’t think I can put any of that stuff behind me until I do confirm things from him and get some more clarity. I think possibly that I simply wasn’t ready before, but now I am. I am tired of always avoiding truths and my intuition just because of stupid messages from other people and society. People are always so caught up in their own ego, needing other people to believe what they believe, live how they live, decide how they decide, think how they think. I’ve gotten to a place where I’m so sick and tired of it and don’t care anymore. I don’t want to live like those people who are only ever in their heads, who don’t believe in the spiritual side of life, who have limited beliefs and mindsets about what is real and possible. I don’t care if anything I say comes off as crazy, delusional, or impossible. I really, truly, do not care anymore. They can stay mad about it. No one has to believe me or believe in me, because I already do. If they’re that upset about my truths, beliefs, or decisions that literally have nothing to do with them, then they’re not focusing enough on themselves and their own life. I don’t want to be like those people and I’m under no obligation to please them, and I’m tired of trying to. 

I am ready for change and I am going to pursue it. I’ve been starting to jump back into astrology, and am just learning about how Pluto leaving Capricorn is ending a difficult 15 years for all of those with their sun or ascendant in cardinal signs (both apply to me). There’s been a lot of hard lessons and upheavals, which have demanded resilience and transformation, but now it’s time to enter a new chapter of expansion, innovation, and liberation. I can feel all of that. My ADHD meds are working great, so I think that’s also helping. I have so much to tackle still, but I’ve slowly been chipping away at getting my apartment clean and organized, meditating daily (sometimes several times a day), getting back into exercising and yoga and moving more, making more time for hobbies, and slowly improving my sleep (the Digital Detox app has been helping me stay off my phone at night). My meds aren’t foolproof, so I still have days that are more difficult than others, but overall, I’d say I’m in a pretty decent place. I’m also stepping out of perfectionism a bit more, shifting my mindset into following the belief that it’s better to do something imperfectly than not at all. I’m very excited to continue down this road I’m on.

I’ve been shifting my thoughts in other ways too lately. Recently, I’ve been starting to change the way I view my physical appearance. It’s more so at the beginning stages, but it’s something at least. I know I’m not conventionally attractive. While when I was younger, there was a period of time where I thought I was ugly, I no longer think that. I know I’m pretty, but I know I’m pretty in an average sort of way. There’s been a handful of times throughout my life where people had something mean to say about my appearance, but those have been greatly outnumbered by the really nice things people have said to me in regards to how I look. At times, especially when I was much younger, I considered all the different surgeries I might get: breast implants, nose job, lip lift. As time went on, I decided against them, and while I still struggle sometimes with accepting myself, I no longer want to pursue going under the knife. I might be open to it once I’m an old lady, but by then I might not even care at all lol. I don’t get hit on that often, though I also don’t really go anywhere to get hit on, and if I do notice someone interested in me, I act like I don’t notice. When I was at my friend’s Halloween party, a younger guy came up to me and started flirting with me while I was standing off to the side by myself (I was mingling too, just had some moments where I wasn’t lol). He jokingly told me he knew I was standing there with my axe to look threatening to keep all the fellas away. I thought, “Hell yeah, this dude gets it”. I wasn’t purposely doing that, but I enjoyed the idea that I could look threatening, even though I know I don’t look that way at all lol. We shared a few laughs and after I didn’t reciprocate any of his flirting, he wandered off. It made me realize I probably would get hit on more often if I went out more, but I don’t want to get hit on so I will not start going out more often any time soon lol.

Recently, Youtube randomly recommended a video to me about the downside of veneers. I never really knew what exactly veneers were since I never cared to look into it. I was horrified to learn that this is a common thing people are doing, where they’re getting their perfectly healthy, normal teeth filed down to put fake, porcelain teeth over top. People thinking their teeth were so unattractive that they needed to get rid of them altogether blew my mind. As someone who always gets told they have “perfect” teeth, I myself am not attracted to the same. I mean, not that I want someone with a bad mouth, but some crooked teeth will get me looking, in a good way. I do tend to sometimes look at people’s mouths when they’re talking, because I just think teeth are cute. I like seeing all the different teeth out there. I do this with everyone, so it’s not me doing it because I find them attractive or am checking them out in some capacity; I simply like the way teeth look. I’m happy my mom got me braces and I don’t mind how my teeth look, but even if she hadn’t done that for me, I can't picture myself ever doing something like getting veneers. Another thing I found out is that people get their irises dyed or get fake lens implants to change their eye color. I thought that was even more insane than the veneer thing. Looking through images, I saw a lot of people getting it done were people of color, and they were usually opting for light blue or green eyes. The green, if not too light, looked okay sometimes, but the blue looked really weird. The rest of their features are darker, so the blue didn’t look right at all. On any of them. My mind immediately went to, “What is wrong with brown eyes??? Or hazel????” I have always been complimented on my eyes and tbh, I do think they’re my best feature. In the light, they are incredibly blue. I’ll never forget when I was working at Wendys as a teen, an older gentleman walked up to order and when he looked at me he said, “You have the bluest damn eyes I’ve ever seen”. The eye color I think is the nicest though? Brown. Yet, there are people getting rid of their brown eyes, giving themselves all sorts of issues like glaucoma just so they can feel more attractive. Any eye color can be attractive to someone. There’s no one-size-fits-all.

Finally the last thing - that I saw most recently - was regarding lips. I’ve always liked my bottom lip, but have always been incredibly more scrutinizing of my top one. I have a pretty pronounced cupid’s bow, so the top points of my lip are more pointed, like mountain peaks. I’ve never liked it. I don’t like how they look when I talk, especially. I’ve never been a huge fan of wearing red lipstick because more than any other color, even darker shades like black, I feel like it becomes more pronounced. I think my lip shape looks fine on other people, like Taylor Swift for example, but I’ve never liked it on me. I’ve always wished for softer, more rounded lips, like the ones all the makeup trends are trying (and failing, imo) to recreate, and the ones that get touted as beautiful in the media (see Julia Roberts and Angelina Jolie - in regards to shape, not size). So then I’m on Reddit, scrolling through some random sub (I don’t even remember what it was, I somehow got from the Wicked movie to Ariana Grande posts, so I think it was some sort of celebrity sub, which is super random cuz I don’t usually care about celebrities), and imagine my surprise when I see a comment with someone saying how they find strong cupids bows attractive. I was even more surprised by all the upvotes and people commenting back in agreement. It has never occurred to me in my entire life that someone would find my lip shape attractive. Never. Then I go to Google, and apparently my lip shape is found attractive by so many people, viewed as “classic” and “romantic”. There’s even a surgery people get to make their cupid's bow more pronounced, and it’s pretty popular. I was completely dumbstruck. A feature I have disliked my entire life people are going to plastic surgeons to recreate. All these features I have that people are paying money to get, ruining their bodies and changing themselves when there’s literally nothing wrong with them. It blows my mind. I had to wear lipstick for my Lisa Frankenstein costume, and it was the first time I put red lipstick on and actually felt excited about it. That was probably also partially due to my excitement about dressing up as Lisa, but I know part of it was because of this too.

It’s also very strange to me how people judge others, like using that on-a-scale-from-one-to-ten thing. Ever since I was a teen, I can remember not liking how people do that, mostly because I heard men utilizing it more than women, but also for other reasons too. First off, when is anyone ever a “10”? I feel like it just sets people up for failure. Also, judging people based solely on appearances is such a shitty thing to do and is so incredibly harmful. Truly. On the same day as I was on that other Reddit post, I ended up in that one group where women rate famous women’s appearances (I forget the name of the group, but there’s also a men’s equivalent where they also rate famous women - it also might be where I saw the Ariana pic), and someone rated Princess Diana a 10 based on more than just her looks, and a few people kept coming at them for it. I don’t get it. Apparently - and I’ve heard this many times - when people are rating themselves, they tend to rate themselves higher than how others perceive them. On my best days, I’d say I’m like a 6 at most, so not really sure where that places me in the reality of things. I just think it’s overall such a terrible thing we do to each other, to judge and point out what flaws aren’t making us look our “best”. Like, what are other people supposed to do about it?? They can’t help what features they were born with. This is why people turn to plastic surgery so often now. Humanity can be so very disappointing.

Anyway, moving on. Another exciting thing that I found out in September is that I qualify for Italian dual citizenship as a person of Italian descent! It’s called jure sanguinis (sometimes also spelled as jus, or even iure, probably because there’s no j in Italian - though the word comes from Latin). There’s a ton of criteria that has to be met and Italy just made a major new ruling that unfortunately disqualifies a ton of people. I know I qualify through my great-grandmother (GGM), but I am waiting to find out if I qualify through my great-grandfather (GGF). It’s easier and less expensive to go through a male ancestor than a female one, unfortunately. This is because prior to 1948, Italy only recognized Italian descent as being passed down through males, so the Italian courts can still reject applications based on the fact that a female ancestor gave birth to your next-of-kin if it was prior to that date. I mean, is a law really abolished if you’re still upholding it in some way, shape, or form? I’d think not, but what do I know ¯\_(ツ)_/¯  I’d also need to hire an Italian lawyer to handle my case if I went through my GGM, which is why it’s more expensive. So even after acquiring the extra paperwork, taking the extra steps needed, hiring a lawyer, and paying extra money, you can still be rejected. Gotta love sexism. This is going to be a long, grueling road ahead either way. I’m most likely going to need to get documents amended since they were just putting any old thing on documents back in the day, and this is regardless of whoever I go through. 

Prior to August of 1992, Italy did not allow dual citizenship, so if Italians wanted to become US citizens, they had to give up their Italian citizenship. Italy allows descendants of those Italian immigrants to reclaim their citizenship, but there’s a lot of criteria to meet. So the main criteria is that your Italian-born ancestor didn’t naturalize (become a US citizen) before your next-of-kin was born, or that they didn’t naturalize at all. If your Italian-born ancestor came over as a minor (under 21 according to Italy prior to March 1975) and their parent naturalized, that naturalization automatically passed down to your Italian-born ancestor. This is what’s known as “the minor issue”. It can be a means for being rejected, but not necessarily. However, the new addition Italy just made on the minor issue is that if your next-of-kin was a minor when your Italian-born ancestor naturalized, it is automatically a disqualification. For example, my GGM came over here as a minor with her father (my GGGF). If he naturalized while she was still a minor, then she automatically naturalized too. However, my application for citizenship can still be accepted despite this because the Italian government usually views it as involuntary naturalization and is therefore not disqualifying. My grandfather (GF) is my next-of-kin, so if both of my great-grandparents (GGP) naturalized while he was a minor, then I would automatically be disqualified to gain citizenship through jure sanguinis. However, if only one naturalized while he was a minor, I can still go through my other GGP. So if your Italian-born ancestry had to involuntarily naturalize as a minor, you might still be good, but if your Italian-born ancestor voluntarily naturalized while your next-of-kin was a minor, you’re not good. Idk why they made that addition to the minor issue, but it’s fucked a lot of people over. It was really sad to see people posting about how they spent so much money and put in so much work over the course of many long years just for them to now be disqualified. I feel so sorry for them. 

My Italian ancestry is on my dad’s side, so my line of descent is: my great-grandparents  -> my grandfather -> my father -> me. (I know I have some Italian through my grandmother on my dad’s side as well based off of my DNA tests, but it would be through her father and  we don’t know who he was, so I can’t go that route.) I do not know yet if my GGF naturalized or not. I submitted a request to the US records branch to do a record search and also reached out to local branches in the places he lived. The US branch hasn’t responded back yet, and it usually takes on average about 3 months to a year to get a response from them. I submitted my request at the end of September. The Philadelphia branch had no record of him naturalizing there, but I have to check with them again in December. The local branch in NYC just closed and all of their records are being sent to the Philly branch, but they aren’t expected to be ready until some time in December. Sometimes it’s possible to find naturalization records online for free, but I couldn’t find any for my GGF. That doesn’t mean they don’t exist though, cuz not every single record has been uploaded. I did find my GGM’s naturalization card online, showing that my GGM naturalized in 1944. My GF was born in 1915, so he was an adult when she naturalized, meaning that I can qualify through her, though it’s not a definite approval because of the 1948 thing. Another issue I have is that my GGM went back to NYC to naturalize and used her old address from 20-something years prior. I’m guessing she didn’t know she could have gone through Philly, like maybe she thought she had to do it through NYC since that’s where she first immigrated to. That’s why I’m also thinking my GGF probably did the same thing, hence why there was no record of him naturalizing in Philly. I don’t blame them for that because there was most definitely a language barrier and also our government is not the best with making things very clear even for their native English-speaking citizens, but I do foresee that as being a pain in the ass to work around. Also, if my GGF never naturalized, I would have to get his death certificate amended because it says on there he was a US citizen. There’s a ton of other info I could write about this, a bunch of other hurdles to navigate, and a few more potential disqualifiers (they don’t apply to me), but it would take me the rest of the day to write about all of it, so I’ll end that bit there.

One thing I saw a few times in a group I’m in is people feeling bad about going through this process, like they’re destroying what their ancestors worked hard for. I was completely baffled and shocked to see that sentiment, and when I read the responses, I wasn’t the only one. Firstly, our ancestors didn’t have a choice. They had to choose one or the other: either they became a citizen of the country they moved to or they stayed a citizen of their birth country. It was one or the other. Secondly, how do we know they wouldn’t have kept both if they had the option? Seeing as it took my GGM almost 40 years after she came here to naturalize, I think it’s safe to speculate that it wasn’t the easiest decision to make. In modern times, we now have the privilege of having both citizenships. It’s really confusing to me to see how people think sometimes. Like, the place where my mind went was how cool it is that decisions my GGP made for themselves over a century ago to chart their own path forward is also affecting my own path in the present. That is so fucking cool to think about. My GGP both came over in 1905, and the requirement back then was that they had to live here for 5 years before they qualified for naturalization. Them deciding to wait much longer has the potential to greatly benefit me in the present. This would literally be life-changing. It has been a lifelong dream of mine to live in Europe, but I never wanted to just give up and leave my life here to do so. This is a wonderful alternative route. Being of Italian descent (doesn’t matter if you qualify for jure sanguinis or not), if I did move there, the wait time to become an Italian citizen is a lot less than those who are not of Italian descent: only 3 years vs 10. If I went through jure sanguinis and moved there, I could improve upon the 3 year wait time too, since the application process would be much quicker. I believe it would only take around 3 months to get approved compared to the insane wait times for US residents, though it could still be delayed over there too for whatever reason. It is generally much quicker though. For US residents, I’ve seen people say they waited anywhere from like 1-4 years for approval after submitting their docs, depending on the Italian-American consulate they had to apply to. The Philly branch, which is the one I’d apply through, from what I’ve read, is one of the faster ones. The lengthy wait times are fucking a lot of people over right now with the new ruling for the minor issue. People who submitted their applications years ago and were waiting on approval are now being denied based on the new ruling, which is really messed up. I think it should only apply to people who submitted after the new ruling took effect.

It’s already been worthwhile to simply trace my GGP history. They both came over here two months apart and were from the same region, but they never met until they were in NYC. One day, I decided to see where exactly their towns were located. They were both from the Foggia region, and when I looked up their towns, I noticed they seemed very close to one another. Turns out, they were only a 2 hour walk away from one another, which today is about an 11-12 minute car ride. How crazy is that??? I also found their names on the Ellis Island website. My GGF came over here alone at the age of 20 to stay with a cousin, and my GGM came over here with her father when she was 14 (still have to confirm my GGGF didn’t naturalize while she was still a minor, though I’m guessing she didn’t since I found her naturalization card). I also found a picture of them that someone uploaded on Ancestry. I can tell who my GGF is in the photo, but he’s standing next to two women, so I’m unsure who is my GGM. Oh, and also, their names are Leonardo and Angelina 🙂

My original plan for doing this was to some day, maybe 10 years or so into the future, have a second home. Obviously, I am incapable of affording that now, but this will take many years to complete, so it’s not something I need to figure out right away. I could live, work, and study anywhere in the EU, which is made up of 27 out of the 44 European countries, but if I lived in Italy I’d get many perks, including housing benefits, free healthcare, and tax breaks. There’s a ridiculous amount of benefits just from being a citizen of the EU, plus holding dual-citizenship with the US along with it as well. There’s virtually no downsides. My only thing now is that I wish I had known about this sooner so that I could pursue it sooner. America is not a great country. I know it is a “privilege” to live here, but that privilege only equates to convenience. With all of the businesses here and shipping hubs and attractions and close proximity to cities or places with a lot to offer and whatever else along those lines, we have nothing else aside from convenience. And yet, we have somehow made ourselves the center of the world, forcing our self-importance on everyone else, even though we remain way behind so many other first-world countries in areas like education, work, housing, human rights, benefits, healthcare, the economy. All of that is now about to get even worse with Mr. Fascist about to take office. People who already have their dual-citizenship can choose to go and leave this hellhole for the next 4+ years, and I envy them. I do find it a bit ironic that in order to leave my fascist-leaning government behind, I’d like to go live in the country where fascism originated. It’s almost humorous. Then at the same time I’m like, would it be cowardly to run, to leave everyone else who can’t escape to fend for themselves? Maybe, at least for the time being, I’m meant to stay here. If all goes well and smoothly, on the short end of things, I can be approved for my Italian citizenship within 2 years.

Ever since I was a kid, I have never liked it here. That was before I even knew and understood issues we have here and statistics about where we stand compared to other, more progressive countries. Something inside of me has always rejected the country I was born into. My mom used to get mad cuz she would always say it’s a “privilege” to live here, and as a teen, when I gained more knowledge, I had comebacks for telling her how it wasn’t. When I signed up to vote at 18, I registered as unaffiliated because I never wanted to be restricted with my vote. While I’ve never voted Republican and most likely never will, I at least am not limited to only voting Democrat. I did not vote for Biden because just as I am with Trump, I could not stomach him, but I would have brought myself to vote for him if I wasn’t confident he was going to win. I live in a blue state, so not that it matters much anyway. I had to vote for Kamala despite knowing she too was not the best (though I think she would’ve done even better than Biden), and I am so sick of it now seemingly always coming down to Bad Candidate and Worse Candidate. While Kamala didn’t have much of a plan, she could at least be influenced to do good, just like how it was with Biden. She could have at least been worked with. Trump can and will actively do more harm. It’s highly possible that this term is going to be even worse than his first. And at least the past 4 years with Biden there wasn’t any fucking nuclear bomb threats from North Korea or having to brace myself as I get another ping on my phone in regards to whatever asinine thing Trump said or did the day before or overnight while half of America was sleeping. And every time I have to hear about that man saying whatever is a witch hunt against him, my blood boils. It’s estimated that between 70-90% of victims of witchcraft were (and still are) women, and many of them were either poor, healers of some kind, unmarried or didn’t have children, rejected religious norms, or in some way were non-conforming to societal standards. Women were also more likely to be accused because they were viewed as “weaker” in different ways. This rich, privileged man making accusations of witch hunts against him is so aggravating, especially because he always does it whenever he’s being called out for something he literally said or did. And when Putin and Netanyahu, two politicians currently bombing the shit out of innocent civilians, are celebrating the election of someone, how does that not raise any red flags in some people??? I truly do not get it. “B-b-but the economy!” The economy started going under while Trump was still President, it just continued to worsen under Biden. Yes, someone needs to do something about it, but it’s wishful thinking Trump will get it done. Trump doesn’t care about the people; he cares about himself. He doesn’t even give a shit about his own family. This is a man who while on national tv said he’d date his own daughter if she wasn’t his daughter, all while she was sitting right next to him. He even implied he’d have sex with her. Link 1 and link 2 to clips of those. He has zero morals. While I want to believe he has the capacity for good, odds are he will do more harm than anything positive. The only good thing I can think of from his first presidency is when he got rid of the penalty for people who didn’t have health insurance. When I try to come up with something else, my mind literally draws a blank. I have never liked Trump. I remember being around 9 or 10 and my mom started watching the Apprentice, and I was shocked by how incredibly mean he was. I remember specifically asking my mom why he was so mean. I cannot recall her response, but that memory has stuck out to me because I was horrified by how anyone could be so cruel to other people. The speech Jimmy Kimmel gave about Trump winning was great. He says things more eloquently than I can.

Anyway, I had a few more things I was going to write about, but I think I’m going to put them on the back burner for now. This is already a really long post, and I anticipate another one coming up after my appointment with Chris.

[ultyso]

The Puppy and the Panda

SUMMARY: L has 23 days left to live and Matsuda wants to spend them all with him. Can Matsuda help him open up and have fun for these remaining days or will L end up wallowing in his lonesome? (Loosely based on movie ending where L wins)

Warnings: Eventual Character Death

Rating: Teen

Pairings: L x Matsuda

Main tags: Major Character Death • Slow Burn • Friends to Lovers • L Wins • Hanging Out • Tsundere L • Touch Starved L • Holding Hands • Kissing • Pining • Fluff and Angst • Plushies • Emotional Hurt/Comfort • Name-Calling • Teasing • Coping • Demiromantic L • Mentions of Death • annoyance to lovers

🐶-Chapter 2: Thought this place was perfect! - Day 4 - 🐼

Chapter Summary: - Day 4 - After failing with the first option, Matsuda finds the perfect spot to hang out with L.

Word Count: 3,003

Matsuda eagerly waited for L to meet him at the designated location he told via call. He was hoping he wouldn’t be stood up. If L even tried to be late, not only would he be hurt, but also frustrated as that would more than likely mean he’s picked his nose into a new case. He specifically chose a few hours before closing so there would be no noisy patrons left. He lifted his arm up to look at the time, “5 minutes til…” he looked around, still no one in sight. He let out a sigh as he waited. Swaying side to side out of boredom. Maybe he was getting too ahead of himself asking for essentially a date with L. After all, he seemed pretty annoyed with the entire prospect to begin with. However, the negative thoughts soon dissipate as a cab car rolls in. Matsuda excitedly bounces in place before heading to the car. This has to be him!

L steps out, an unamused look on his face, as per usual. He looks at the location behind Matsuda and then narrows his eyes, “I wouldn’t say the aquarium is the quietest place.”

“At this hour it is! Trust me!” he rubs the back of his head, “I’ve been here before! It’s fun, you’ll see!”

“Fun, hmm? To see creatures stuck in stuffy tanks far away from their natural habitat? Doesn’t sound the most intriguing.”

Matsuda droops, head fallen, “When you put it like that…” he frowns. “Heh…is this the point where you’ll say ‘Matsuda, you idiot’ ?” He looks sadly up through his bangs.

“Good you understand.” He puts his hands in his pockets.

“Uhm well…Did…did you still want to go in?”

“Not in particular.”

Matsuda’s nerves got the better of him. He thought he planned the perfect date and here it is now fully ruined with just a single comment. He was stupid to think L would like this. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. The screw up as usual. How could he expect anything different with L? He could never please him…He gritted his teeth in frustration.

“Are you alright?” L tilts his head, curiously.

“I just…I thought I found somewhere fun and you’ve already rejected it.” He looks crestfallen.

L watches the defeated looking man, “Well, I suppose I should—“

“NO!” He blurts out and reaches out a hand for him to wait. “Maybe I can find something better for us to do?”

“If you can think one up.” His face read as though he hoped there wouldn’t be. Perhaps it wasn’t best to keep prying him. No. He couldn’t give in. He wanted L to have fun! He needs to see the world outside of his little monitor room.

“O-okay, I got this!” He looks around. What else can we do that’d be similar? He would rather see animals in their natural habitat right? He takes L’s hand in his, “Okay, I know just the place. Come on!”

L looks at Matsuda’s hand and then up at him.

“Oh! Sorry.” He lets go with an apologetic look on his face.

“It’s alright…”

“Still, please. Follow me?” He gestures for him to follow.

L sighs and walks in his usual hunched manner in the direction Matsuda was headed.

After about a 10 minute walk, they reach a park. Birds are seen flying around, swans swimming across the lake, and rabbits bouncing around. Perfect!

“How about this?” He looks proudly at L. “Not too many people here this late. And look! Lots of animals in their natural habitat! No worries here!”

L looks around and gives a small smile, “I suppose this could work.” He wouldn’t dare admit it, but the park was always some place he did enjoy to go when he had no current cases eating up his time.

Matsuda takes it as approval and smiles wide, “Great! We could walk around? Or we could rent a boat to go across the lake! Oo, or we could get some ice cream at the stall over there. Eh? Eh?” He gives his elbow a little nudge at L.

“After my sweet tooth now, are we?” He hums and walks over to it. The stall has various flavors listed on a chalkboard with cute little drawings around the edges. So many options to choose from.

“Hmm…Maybe I’ll do the hojicha.” Matsuda thinks out loud. “Which do you want?” He pulls out his wallet.

L looks over all the options. If there was any way Matsuda was sure to win over L’s friendship for good, it was by satiating his sweet cravings, it was also the only thing he was for sure never berated about.

“Chocolate.”

Matsuda nods and orders the two ice creams. After a few short minutes he’s given both cones, then grabs some wipes and napkins as well. He gives the chocolate ice cream over to L, “Here you go!”

L licked his lips, it looked quite delicious, he had to admit. He took it in hand and immediately went to town licking up the sweet treat.

Matsuda smiles and gestures for him to follow to sit on one of the nearby park benches. He waits for L to get himself comfortable before starting up on his own ice cream.

It was fairly quiet. The occasional bird chirps circling the air as the breeze slowly swayed the trees. The two ate in silence, admiring the view of the park. He wasn’t protesting, so this seems to be okay, at least for now.

As L was nearing completion of his ice cream, he became increasingly aware of the sticky feeling of ice cream that melted down onto his fingers. He let out a slightly frustrated sound as licking it up didn’t get rid of the sensation.

“Here, I have a wet wipe.” Matsuda offers. He bites down on his own unfinished ice cream cone, in order to free his hands, and opens the small package. He takes L’s hand gently in his own and wipes up the remaining mess.

L looked at him slightly wide eyed as Matsuda held his hand. It was a strange feeling having him touch him but he wasn’t about to protest as he’d finally get rid of that damned feeling, after all. He watched on as Matsuda finished cleaning it up. “Thank you.” L replied softly before retracting his hands and resting them on top of his own knees. What a strange sensation, he thought.

Matsuda smiled, “All better then?”

L nodded and looked away. He didn’t understand the weird feeling bubbling in his stomach. He tried to calm himself by looking at the squirrel currently in the process of climbing up the tree.

Matsuda’s eyes followed his, “What’s your favorite animal, Ryuzaki?”

“My favorite?” He ponders, “I suppose I never put much thought into it.”

“What? Really? Anyone who's anyone has a favorite animal!” Matsuda protests back.

L watches the squirrel reach the top of the trunk before curling in a little, “I just never put much thought into such things.”

“I see…” Matsuda watched the grass move with the wind before replying again, “I really like pandas!”

“And why is that?”

“Have you seen one? They’re so cute!” He giggles. “They look so fluffy!”

“So you only like it because it’s cute?”

He shakes his head and turns a little to look at L, “I just think they’re neat. Did you know they cover their eyes when they don’t want to look threatening?”

“Is that so?”

“Mm! Many think they have a sixth finger but it’s actually like an opposable paw heel. It isn’t actually a joint.” He swings his legs a little as he talks.

“What else do you know?”

Matsuda holds a finger up, “Well, they eat a lot of bamboo, but they aren’t actually vegetarians.” He waves his finger no, “If they wanted to, they could eat fruit and even meat too!”

“Matsuda seems quite knowledgeable about pandas.”

“Mhm! And! And! Did you know that pandas don’t hibernate?”

“Matsuda is filled with small facts.” He says with a faint smile.

Matsuda lights up and nods.

“If only you showed that same enthusiasm and memory in the case…”

“Aww, don’t kill the mood here.” He puffs his cheeks.

“Very well. Very well.” L thinks about it. “I suppose…something as simple as a dog.”

“Oh? Okay, why?” He gives L his full attention.

“Because they are loyal. They’ll do whatever you ask of them.” He gives Matsuda a knowing look, “Unlike Matsuda who can’t follow a simple order without making a mess.”

“You’re never gonna let up on that, are you?” He huffs.

“Someone needs to put you in your place.” He jests.

Matsuda leans back against the park bench and looks up at the sky. “What’s your favorite time of the day?”

“Hmm? I like when it's sunset. It looks beautiful out.”

“We should watch it together then, won’t be long!” He smiles and gives a little stretch. “How about your favorite season?”

“I suppose Spring. It’s when things come alive and when cherry blossom sweets are in season. I’m quite fond of the mochi nearby, for it.” He puts his fingertip to his lip. Just the thought alone had him craving some.

Matsuda looks at him overfilled with joy, “Yeah? We could pick some up on the way back then. Maybe we have more in common than we thought!”

“I would appreciate that.” He laughs and looks out at the sky, “Our preferences in weather is hardly an indication—“

“Oh stop with that!” He pouts. “Is it that bad to bond with me?”

“Not entirely, I guess…”

Matsuda sits upright, “You mean that?”

L strums his fingers on his knees. “I know I have a propensity for lying, but I’m not at this current moment.”

Matsuda smiles again, “Well, thank you, Ryuzaki. I’m happy to hear that.” He felt just a fraction closer to him. Whatever little bit helped, he was going to crack that surface inch by inch.

L looks out at the lake, “Would a ride on the lake be alright?”

Matsuda nods enthusiastically. Finally L was wanting to do things! “Of course!” He stands up and offers his hand to L.

L looks at it and stands up of his own accord, causing a slight frown out of Matsuda. The two walk over to the kiosk to rent out the little boat and then head over to their designated one. “Go ahead.” He gestures for L to sit first.

L gets in and to no surprise, sits in his usual frog-like way. Matsuda gets in shortly after and grabs the oars. “I’ll row us out.” L doesn’t respond but he watches as Matsuda rows them out to reach the middle of the lake.

Matsuda puts the oars down, “How’s this?”

“This will do.” The two sit in silence, admiring the nature around them. The longer they idle in the boat, the more the sky slowly starts to change as the sun begins to set.

“It’s beautiful from here.” Matsuda says softly, as if speaking too loud would ruin the moment.

L nods as he continues to look up. There almost seems to be a sparkle in his eye. Matsuda can’t help but feel his heart pang a little when he takes a peep to look at him. The sunset, sure it was beautiful, but seeing L serene like this? Priceless.

L eventually turns his gaze back to Matsuda, “Is there a reason you’re looking at me?”

Matsuda startles a little, not expecting to be put on the spot. He rubs the back of his head and looks up at the sky to calm himself. “I just think that it’s nice seeing you look at peace. You always look so stressed. So it’s nice.”

“Hmm…If you put it that way, I suppose.”

Matsuda laughs awkwardly and continues to look up. He could never admit to L that he harbored an inkling of feelings for him. If L didn’t even see him as a friend…no way would he even inclinate that. He buried those feelings deep down, the last thing he’d want is to pressure him into anything. He already sort of was by getting him out of that office to hang out. If anything, Matsuda was content if he could establish a genuine friendship with L. That was his hope.

The sunset continues to stretch oranges and pinks across the sky til it slowly fades into darkness as the sun fully sets. Matsuda looks back at L. “Did you enjoy the view?”

“Yes. Beautiful as ever.” He smiles.

I enjoyed the view of you too, Matsuda thought. “Well, we should head out. We can go get you some of that mochi.”

L agrees and Matsuda rows themselves back over to land and is the first to get out. Matsuda doesn’t offer his hand this time for L, as the detective seemed to not be fond of the physical contact, but he watches on in case he will have to assist. L stands with ease and goes to get out but trips a little as he tries to step over the boat’s edge and onto the dock. Matsuda quickly catches him with his arm and helps him back up, “Whoa, that was close.”

L’s eyes widened at the abrupt exchange. Nearly shaking at the sudden physical contact and himself almost tripping. He shakes it off and pushes Matsuda off of him, “Thank you.” He mumbles and walks on ahead. He’s too touchy-feely.

Matsuda frowns at the awkward interaction but follows along next to him. “How far is the place?”

“Not far. A few blocks down.”

“Mm, okay.”

Silence. They walk next to each other without saying a word. It seemed L, even outside of work, wasn’t much for words. Or perhaps, just none for Matsuda.

They finally reach the shop and L is practically salivating. The mochi are on full display from the window. Matsuda opens the door for him to head inside.

When they walk in, there is an intense smell of sweetness wafting through the air. Definitely L’s cup of tea. L looks over the selection with a twinkle in his eye. Looking just like any kid in a candy store. How cute. Matsuda cleared his throat at the thought and walked closer to him, “Pick whichever you’d like. I’ll pay for them.”

“Matsuda is being quite hospitable today.”

“Well friends can want to treat other friends out.” He gives a small smile.

“Not one for subtlety are you?” he looks back at the display and points to some chocolates and the sakura mochi. Matsuda acknowledges and orders them at the register for him. The cashier gives him the bag filled with the sweets and Matsuda gestures with his head for L to follow him outside.

“I’m guessing you’ll want to head back? Now that it’s getting late…”

“Don’t sound so disappointed.” L reaches for the bag.

Matsuda turns himself slightly away from L’s reach, “Do you see me as a friend now?”

L stares at him for a moment. “There is a 5% chance…”

“5% as in really 5% or 95%?”

L pursed his lips.

“Well?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Come on, don’t be mean. I treated you to a lot of things today.” He looks him over, “The least you could do is be honest with me.”

L looks away as if scolded, he shifts slightly as if uncomfortable.

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to—“

“95%”

“Huh?”

“Don’t make me say it again.” He mumbles.

Matsuda’s eyes light up and he hands him the bag, “I’m glad!”

L quickly takes it and pulls out the mochi to eat, “No need to get that excited.”

“But you acknowledge me as a friend now, how can I not be?”

“Does Matsuda not have many friends?”

“Huh? What’s that accusation?” He huffs, “I have plenty. Do you?”

L grows silent, pausing from eating the mochi. He looks down at the ground, “Light was considered my first friend…”

“Then I’m your second?”

“No.” He continues to look down. “While Light was an interesting man. I never saw him as a true friend. That was merely an act to get close to him…”

“So he wasn’t your first?” He scratches his head a little confused, “So you lied about that?”

“Yes…” he looks back up, “You would be the first…” he makes a slight groan, “I suppose… genuine friend.”

Matsuda’s heart beat quicker, his cheeks burning slightly, “R-really? Me?” He points to himself.

“Yes. My friendship to Light was fake. Unlike with him, I chose this one of my own accord, even outside of your continuous nagging.”

“So when I asked for friendship, you actually took it seriously?” He coaxes on.

“Matsuda was kind to me even with how I am. I…I felt it alright to…open up slightly.”

“Really?” He blushed more and tried to contain his happiness, “I’m glad I was able to get you to feel safe enough to open up even a pinch.” He pinches his fingers to elucidate the point further.

“Thank you, Matsuda.”

“Thank you?” He laughs, “No need to thank me for something like this.”

The two walked back to HQ from there, a little bit closer than earlier. L was his friend. Not as a pretend one either. He admitted to opening a little too! Matsuda’s heart felt so warm. He wanted the moment to last forever.

“Well, I have other things to attend to tonight. Good night, Matsuda.” He said as he reached the door.

“Huh? So soon?”

“Needn’t fret. I surmise you will come up with something else fun tomorrow?”

Matsuda smiled brightly at the thought, “You bet! See you tomorrow, Ryuzaki.”

“Goodnight, Touta .” L walks into the building with his sweet bag in tow, leaving Matsuda with his jaw dropped. He actually called him by his first name! That only settled it further. L meant it with their friendship. He felt more excited as he started to walk back to his home, ready to concoct the next date.

—————————

⬅️ Chapter 1 | Chapter 3 ➡️

[mythgrippa-blog]

Day 0 - rebooting

Hello, call me Mythgrippa! Nice to meet you, the name comes from two fascinations I have, myths and Marcus Agrippa (my favorite Roman). I am currently doing my final year of computer science and I've done a lot, I'll list them out in a different blog post but it was a lot a lot and I'm left with only one semester which I'm quite excited about.

However, I think I must have overworked myself to get to this point, like I'm truly exhausted all the time, can't really focus on my work and having constant feelings of stress and anxiety, I used to be a stallion programmer but I can barely write a few lines of code and not feeling mentally overwhelmed.

This morning, like in the night I woke up to go to the bathroom and couldn't go back to sleep so I went online and got a bit too curious and searched up why I'm like this and found an online blog post which explained all the symptoms I've been experiencing with pin point accuracy.

I'm mentally exhausted, it makes sense because I'm always thinking about whatever school work I have and trying to get good grades, sleeping deep into the night trying to get work done. My performance has been declining, I still get work done but my quality isn't what it used to be. I've also been neglecting self care and not going outside, my skin is starting to show, I'm black by the way and my tone has started feeling... spotty? I don't know, I don't like it. My self confidence has kind of diminished because of it so there's that as well.

So, I still have a lot of work to do, like a software project for school that I'm the leader of, so I have to be the technical lead and also the semester hasn't started yet so I've to prepare for that as well. These are my stressors. I've to stop this mental daemon from running all the time.

To accomplish this, the article I read suggested these 11 solutions

Eliminate the stressors

My stressors would be mostly work, I can't just simply eliminate it because I have to finish this semester, and its not something I can set aside, plus my software project with my group isn't going so well so we gotta work our butts off for that

Work-life balance

Alright, this is part I get because I honestly don't have a life. The closet life I have is the friends I hang out with at school when on break and also the tennis games we go to, but I've mostly been a work person. So, for starters I need a life!!! But where to start... maybe I should start. Perhaps restricting myself to working up to 6 hours or less per day?

I could play video games or watch movies, I mean... hm... I'll try out the other games and watch more TV, I haven't been reading any of my novels or play board games. I'm off Twitter and Reddit, I don't like scrolling mindlessly for hours.

Damn it!! I remember that one of my friends has my board games, no matter I'll just play on ipad, hopefully there are good apps in the app store. I'll see what my other friends have to say. Well I'll see what I will do

Clear your space

I suppose this means I should rid of what doesn't kindle joy, I'm in recess at the moment and I'm back home, I don't have a room of my own so I sleep in my little brother's room (which used to be mine before I moved to uni), the spare that I usually sleep in is occupied by one of my older brothers. This room is a mess and I really can't do much about it other than tidy some stuff but the way things are laid out is just so annoying, so much wasted space. But this isn't my room anymore so I can't really do anything major plus my energy is down the drain.

Schedule (and take) regular breaks

I should take breaks when working, I used to study using Pomodoro and it was quite effective I won't lie but I've lost some of my discipline, at least partly attributed to the main reason I'm writing this in the first place.

How did I go so many semesters without taking regular breaks, not even like five minutes, I'm really a mad lad. I'll try to take at least 5 minutes off per hour, that should make it easier, but what constitutes a break? Doing nothing? I suppose that works

Get outside

In terms of this, I try to go outside but the weather is just so cold, but the sun does feel good but I'm the type of person who likes dark and gloomy weather accompanied by rain and thunder storms, I just really like that, the rain drops crashing onto the roof or window, the warm clothing I get to wear!! Oh my goodness, it feels like a mental refresher because I naturally feel easy and relaxed when there's rain. But I'll try to go out, perhaps a jog every now and then?

Do something new

Something new... well I could really try that, I used to go to the gym but school got so hectic I had to cancel my membership but I think I'll go back since I believe the hardest semester has concluded (last semester was the hardest honestly and I'm glad I made it out alive).

I'll try out other types of sports because I want to regain my stamina and activeness, my right leg though... its fine I'll be fine, I'll buy better shoes and sports gear. I'll try to be healthier, eat my fruits daily, and drink plenty of water.

That's a lot of stuff, how will I manage though? I'll figure it out but at least the idea is there

Reduce screen time

I mean... even though its the start of recess and I'm done with my old modules and the new ones haven't started yet, I'm still checking my emails and notifications, I do have the group project, and I'm doing Computer Science, I need a computer to science god damn it, how am I supposed to reduce that. I'll let this one slide. Because I can't really digitally detox... I'm not ready for that or even see the need to, but I can reduce the amount of time I spend on my phone, no phone time between 10PM and 7AM, that worked before in the past. But as for computer time, yeah I can't really reduce that.

Find positive ways to distract yourself

I used to have this bad habit I'm still recovering, I tricked myself into thinking it could help get the "edge off", I regret it and I'm glad I'm not that person, incase you're wondering its not drugs or weed or alcohol or any bad substances... I've never done any of that, and NO I DON'T VAPE. I'm as a clean as they get, but there's always been something I've been struggling with for almost four years now but I think I've finally learnt to let it go for the better.

You could say it was a negative distraction for myself, but no more of that I just need a positive way to distract myself, perhaps calling up an old friend? I haven't spoken to a number of people, I am messaging someone but they're not a regular person I talk to because of odd response times but I'm one of those people who'll reply as soon as they see your message no matter how long you take because I get people have stuff to do or don't feel like replying at times, its completely normal.

Perhaps I'll start playing games again? But that can get out of hand pretty quickly, actually... having coffee with my best friend can work? Yeah, there are plenty, I'll just ask her (oh yeah, a bit of a rant but I'm a guy, my best friend is a girl so yeah that can be a thing, why don't people get it! Guys and Girls don't have to date to have fun, goodness I hate my class mates, for CS nerds they're sure talkative, they're nice people but JEEEEZ). I'll ask her if I want to be distracted, or my other friends as well

Take care of yourself 

I need to eat nourishing food, I ate a lot of KFC and boy it ain't good for ya, but it helps fill me up but I'll try to be better than that and eat better. I'll start eating from this restaurant I frequent they sell some delicious and nourishing food. I'll also try to sleep by 10 and wake by 7, that should be plenty of rest yeah? I will drink water every day, trust me I'm a water freak.

Focus on what you can control

I can't really do everything, so I should be able to tell others what to do, I am group leader after all. I'll see what I can do and what should be done, I'll delegate and try to organize more. So, that the objective is very clear. I'm not a stallion anymore, I can't code for hours on end like I used to, but luckily there's capable members in my group so I'll delegate the work to them and do my group leader duties.

Talk to a coach or therapist

NO

Well that lists everything, I wrote so much without realizing it, this was all in one sitting so I'm impressed with myself. I always did enjoy writing stories, I'm not as creative anymore but when it comes to stuff like this, I have like 3 filled up diaries.

If you made it this far, I'm so impressed with you, thank you for taking an interest and reading my first public blog (I've written so many private ones that I'll never release because I'm so embarrassed plus its useless and uninteresting, like unfinished stories, other diary attempts, blah blah)

Well thanks again you and I'll see you in the next one

[clockworksteel]

I've been realizing lately that I never developed a style of my own. This is kinda tangentially related to gender, I guess?

The earliest event that kicked off this line of thought was when a friend of mine mentioned sometimes they do silly tier lists with another friend, with one example being sorting characters by who was the "most gender", in the tumblr sense. I later had the thought, "I am not very gender". Then there was a segment of video of a recent Jammidodger video in which he talks about how many people find their own style as they grow up (https://youtu.be/H_CLQEIm1CA?t=192 for the full context, or https://youtu.be/H_CLQEIm1CA?t=242 to skip to the most relevant part), and also a recent tumblr post I saw that was like, "What are you wearing now and does it fit your style?" And, like, I was in sweat pants and a T-shirt since that's all I ever wear, but... I'm not sure I ever really picked it so much as I've been going with it as a good-enough default ever since I was, like, 6.

Now, some of that might just be that I genuinely have a rather plain style, but I also didn't really have an experimentation phase. I probably would have been concerned about my parents' judgements if I thought about truly making my own style decisions, I don’t think that line of thought even happened because it more of a subtle thing where the points to make decisions just didn't happen besides deciding what to pull out of the drawer or closet.

I actually still get given a lot of T-shirts, which makes it kinda difficult to justify buying many tops on my own. My mom likes to pick out "funny" ones for Christmas and birthdays, usually 2 per gift-giving event. Of course, some of those aren't great, since about some of the humor on them is self-depreciating, which is a bit weird as a gift. Like, sure, I guess I'll ironically wear the one that says "Exercise? I thought you said extra lives" while exercising. I think I'd prefer just getting another couple solid color shirts a year.

That said, at least I had very occasionally bought my own T-shirts a couple times prior to moving out from my parents' house. The rest of my clothing while I lived with my parents was entirely what they decided I should have. I guess I must have expressed some sort of comfort preferences at some point, since I have a vague memory of being told I didn't like jeans and it sounded right, but that sort of thing would've been about it as far as choosing most of my clothes.

Then my haircuts were just... sometimes my mom decided it was time for a haircut and then she'd cut it how she thought it should be. It would be left a little longer in the winter. I never really learned the names of hairstyles. After moving out I bought hair clippers to keep doing it how I was used to it, but I think it may be less that I like it like that and more that I'm keeping it how my mom expects it. I was a little sad to cut my hair this morning: it was just getting long enough to do something with. My mom did make fun of my hair last visit though as mentioned in the previous post, and I'm visiting again this weekend.

And my lack of style doesn't end with my personal appearance.

When I was younger, I wasn't supposed to put anything on the walls, since it could damage the paint. When I moved into the bedroom that had one burlap-covered wall I could put push-pins in it and did hang up some things: a couple posters and some paper snowflakes. Still, I never learned to decorate normal walls. And so in the 6 years I've been in my current house, the only wall decoration is a white board calendar.

I'm not really sure why, but I haven't changed my phone background from the default in my almost 4 years of having my current one. My desktop computer does have a background I set, but I haven't changed it in almost a year (I set it when Nintendo sent me some for my birthday last year). Before that it was just a solid color.

Even in games I tend not to focus on appearance that much, except for a couple times I've gotten to do dress-up in the couple of Pokemon games that actually had a good variety of clothes. I absolutely blitz through most character creators compared to a lot of people I know, it feels like.

I guess until I figure out whether my pervasive plainness is genuinely me, it's hard to conclude anything. I've had idle thoughts related to this about how maybe it would be good to consider an agender identity, but I don't even know where to begin with that, since the lack of rules when it comes to gender makes it hard to think about directly. I'd still have to decide what I look like physically anyway as well.

[kchasm]

Let’s Watch: Kamen Rider: Episode 5: The Monstrous Mantis Man

At the Central Earthquake Research Facility (which is either a central research facility for earthquakes or a research facility for central earthquakes; don't ask me which), Chikako Amemiya of the Academic Society for Earthquake Prediction answers a phone call.

Someone asks if they have equipment of some sort, to which she says yes, they have hella equipment, it was in the papers and everything, why? To which the caller instantly hangs up.

And then the lights go out.

Fortunately, the security guard shows up at the door!

Unfortunately, he's dead. And then dissolves, I think.

Probably because of this dude.

What I am saying is that Shocker is up to some nonsense again.

Cut to: Takeshi and Tobee are doing motorcycle training, as per usual, when Takeshi's run is interrupted by the ground literally opening up a bit—an earthquake! There's been a lot of them, lately, and the two of them are concerned that they might be foreshocks to a much larger quake.

Also in case you do not know how earthquakes are measured here is a primer:

Got that, kids? Don't say Kamen Rider never taught you nothing.

Bonus education time:

This is funny because in Japanese myth there is a giant catfish that lives underground, and when it thrashes around, it causes earthquake. The catfish is called Namazu, which is Japanese for "catfish." Don't say I never taught you nothing, neither.

Oh, by the way, says Tobee, Chikako Amemiya was your childhood friend, right? Newspaper says she's gone missing.

Cut to: Takeshi at the lab, along with... is that Kishimori, the science guy who dispensed some information? Maybe-Kishimori says that the cell he's looking at under a microscope isn't a human cell, but looks more like the cell of an insect, specifically, the cell from a serrated insect let. It's too large, is the strange thing: The insect this cell is from would have to be monstrous in size!

I feel like this isn't the sort of thing you would be able to easily figure out by looking at a collection of cells under a microscope but also I was terrible at biology, so... I'm going to give this a pass, I guess. Takeshi says this stuff was on the floor of the earthquake research center, so I guess that Takeshi visited Chikako's office in that cut and this is stuff he found at the scene and brought back for analysis? It is not communicated very clearly!

What I am absolutely not giving a pass to is the whole sequence that follows: Takeshi says he feels like there must be a link between the strange insect cells and this map. And by this map what I mean is a map of Japan that Takeshi just. Has? Which I am about 85% sure we have never actually seen before? I guess this was also at the research center?

This map is a map of Japan apparently marking the epicenters of the recent earthquakes. Which... listen, I am not a seismologist, but I think I can imagine why a map marking the epicenters of recent earthquakes might be found at an earthquake research center. The map does contain some important info, though: The epicenters have occurred around the city in a way that seems somewhat unlikely.

Therefore:

... I didn't skip any of Takeshi's reasoning here, by the way. He goes directly from "the earthquakes are oddly placed" to "it's Shocker." Which, of course: It is Shocker, because it's that kind of show, but also this is not how inductive reasoning works.

(Also, is that supposed to be soliloquacious just now? Because if not, I guess Maybe-Kishimori was read into the whole Shocker thing at some point. Or maybe Takeshi just occasionally says Sentences Fraught With Implication around folks not involved in the whole Fight Against Shocker thing and then doesn't ever explain and then those people are just left confused and/or unnerved. Honestly, with what we've seen of Takeshi I wouldn't be surprised either way.)

It gets better—or, you know, worse. Takeshi prods at the map with a Geiger counter and finds that the map is irradiated, which probably Takeshi would have preferred to have found out earlier. Still, the conclusion Takeshi comes to from this observation is all the more shocking: Shocker is detonating nuclear payloads underground and disguising the results as earthquakes! These recent small earthquakes have merely been tests, but they've been increasing in scale, so all of this must be a lead-up to a major earthquake that Shocker plans to engineer!

Again, I did not skip any of Takeshi's reasoning here. He just goes from Point A to Point Squid. Also, why is the map irradiated? If the map is irradiated, that implies that the map itself has been around one of the nuclear payloads—i.e. it must have been at a Shocker-controlled location. So it must be a Shocker map, rather than one that's supposed to be at the earthquake research center. In which case, why was it at the earthquake research center? Did Mr. Mantis bring it along with him when he kidnapped Chikako? And then he just. Dropped it? Accidentally?

Before I can give myself any more of a headache, Takeshi gets a phone call. It's Chikako! She asks Takeshi for help, telling him she's found the main base of the folks who have been making these earthquakes; would you come quick here is the address.

And then we zoom out:

Yeah, Chikako doesn't seem to be exactly speaking freely here. But Takeshi doesn't know that, so off he goes.

(Wait, ignoring the whole Being Coerced aspect, why would Chikako contact Takeshi regarding this matter, anyway? I mean, if I were a seismologist who had discovered the location of the main base of the people who are creating artificial earthquakes, and also by the way there are people who are creating artificial earthquakes, "my childhood friend" would not exactly be on the top ten list of parties I would contact off the bat. Like, there's the police. Newspapers. Higher-Positioned Scientist People. I don't know. But Takeshi's the protagonist, so she calls him. Fine.)

Takeshi arrives at some sort of... place, and you'd expect that this is the point where a bunch of Shocker goons would pop out to initiate a fight scene, but no, actually, it's just Chikako, alone, who runs thankfully into Takeshi's arms. This is, of course, absolutely sus, and if you don't suspect anything yet, here's a shot of Mr. Mantis watching over the reunion with a nefarious aura.

I've found the entrance to the base, says Chikako, and then she pushes Takeshi into a hole. And then when Takeshi looks up from where he's landed at the bottom of a featureless shaft, she cries out as she's "kidnapped" by Mr. Mantis.

Yeah, so it was a trap after all, just a different kind. Mr. Mantis gloats over Takeshi's trappedness and lowers a ticking bomb on a chain partway down the shaft, then jets. How's Takeshi gonna get out of this one?

He, uh. He doesn't, that's how. The bomb explodes exactly how it's supposed to. And then Takeshi, uh, becomes Kamen Rider?

Which means... looks like he's gonna have to jump? I guess?

Mr. Mantis asks what's on everyone's mind at this point, i.e., what the heck was that just now, and Takeshi gives an answer.

... It's not a particularly satisfying answer, but it's definitely an answer!

Anyway fight scene now.

Long story short Takeshi recovers Chikako and then legs it.

Subsequently, Mr. Mantis is berated by the Big Shocker Voice. Big Shocker Voice says that Chikako is indispensable to the whole Do Earthquake operations, and Mr. Mantis must recover her at all cost.

Cut to: Amigo. Hiromi and Ruriko are sitting around when Shiro runs in, frightened out of his wits. He's seen a giant mantis monster, you see. Hiromi immediately teases him for having watched too much television. Hiromi, you have been directly adjacent to so much Shocker nonsense already. Please take the threat of monstermen more seriously.

Ruriko goes out to investigate on her own suddenly mantis!

Just as suddenly cut to: Ruriko, quite not-captured, at Takeshi's apartment. She and Takeshi are watching over the still unconscious Chikako, anticipating an attempt by Shocker to recover her. Chikako looks like she's going through some pretty bad experiences, even unconscious, muttering things like "mantis egg" and "four PM." And then she wakes up.

What was all that about mantis eggs and four PM, Chikako? asks Takeshi.

I don't know what you're talking about, says Chikako. Also, I don't know anything. Also my name isn't Chikako and you have the wrong person gotta leg it bye.

Takeshi grabs Chikako to stop her from fleeing, but accidentally hurts her with his Cyborg Strength, but his opportunity to be understandably down about it is cut short by Mr. Mantis, demanding Chikako's return! A fight scene ensues. Takeshi gives Chikako a bracelet. Ruriko is removed from the playing field in the dumbest way possible.

(The intent, I think, was to have Mr. Mantis toss Ruriko into the bookshelf. What we get, instead, is Ruriko turning around, staggering over to the bookshelf, and then carefully bonking herself against the head with it. It's... not well done.)

And then Chikako clocks Takeshi with a lamp stand and then just stares into nowhere. Because she's been compromised. Obviously. Mantis tells her good job and everything.

Cut to: Mantis pulling Chikako off somewhere. She's walking, too, but with her head rolling and lolling like she's dazed, drunk, or drugged (which I guess is just less specific "drunk"), but it's the magical kind of evil induced impairment where also you can pretend to be fully functional and hit your childhood friend with furniture. It is also the kind of magic evil hypnotism where also you can give presentations on the best way to use nuclear energy to destroy a city with an artificial earthquake.

Eagle-eyed viewers may note that Chikako's shiny new bracelet is now blinking. That's because it is, in actuality, a tracking device, which Takeshi is able to follow! See, there was a reason I mentioned it.

He's intercepted partway by Mr. Mantis, but oddly, after some obligatory blows, the guy runs off again. Takeshi chases, obvs.

Back at Shocker base, Chikako intones to the Big Shocker Voice that the earthquake is ready for deployment and someone just needs to pull the Important Lever. The Big Shocker Voice tells her to sleep and await further instructions, which Chikako literally does, lying down and everything. So I guess she was hypnotized... but not necessarily brainwashed, despite that having been the usual Shocker M.O. so far. Odd.

Mr. Mantis leads Takeshi right to the actual entrance of the Shocker base, which is sort of the opposite of what you want to do when your Evil Plans are happening there and you don't want Kamen Rider to mess them up. He shuts a door, which Takeshi is unable to get through, because doors, Takeshi jumps somewhere and I don't even care anymore. You don't even get a gif.

Fight scene. Shocker mooks. Kamen Rider wants to know switch to set off the earthquake is, to which one of the mooks gurgles "mantis egg" before getting Taken Out Before He Can Squeal. Could "mantis egg" be what they're calling the nuclear bomb? wonders Takeshi. Also FYI the mantis egg is right there. Like, in the same room as all of this.

Sure.

Meanwhile there's all these shots of the clock getting closer and closer to four PM. Now, if I'm understanding this correctly, the episode has established that soon as it's four PM, all the preparations will have finished, and someone will just need to pull the switch in order to set the bomb off, right? I'm assuming that's it, and not "this bomb will explode at four PM," but this episode has been weird enough already—

Okay, no, wait, so the mantis egg is where the switch to set off the nuclear bomb was hidden. For some reason.

Why, though.

Anyway:

Mr. Mantis, defeated, immediately dissolves just like everyone else in this episode, as do all the downed mooks.

The episode ends with Takeshi carrying Chikako from the Shocker base, lamenting that he is no longer the child Chikako knew, nor even Takeshi Hongo, but a cyborg fighting against the evils of Shocker.

... Wait.

Okay, so, uh, Takeshi actually disabled the nuclear bomb, right? I want to assume he did. It was literally in an "all you've gotta do is pull the switch" state the last we left it and Takeshi just left the base unattended. I mean, you don't need to be a humanoid mantis creature to pull a lever.

Also, Chikako still has triggers in her brain. I feel like this is worth noting. The Big Shocker Voice could give her new instructions literally anytime. Takeshi's childhood friend is has a friendly toggle button seared into her brain that makes her follow orders from an international terrorist group. I feel like this is maybe something you cannot just sleep off. Are we going to address this?

... We are not going to address this.

... This was a bad episode. Writing this post took longer than any of my other posts because I had to keep pausing the episode, because I didn't want to watch the episode anymore, because this was a bad episode. I don't want to ever see or hear sign of Mr. Mantis Man ever again.

[sillygirlblogging]

May 20, 2023

TW: Mention of seeing the person who SA'd me, small mention of death, short mention of sewerslidal thoughts

I have to admit I am actually writing this on the 21st but I have to start out this blog by talking about yesterday, unfortunately. Actually, let's go even further back and talk about Monday.

On Monday, I went to go get lip filler. Which was pretty much one of the only good things about this week. Later that day, my "best friend" canceled plans with me and our other "best friend." For the millionth time.

My "best friend" has a huge issue when it comes to double booking herself thoughtlessly and then canceling on me even though we had plans first. And even though I told her many times that it is really hurtful because in my past friend group I was always canceled on and left out for years and told that it was all in my head and not a big deal when I tried to communicate that I was hurt that I was always the one being canceled on, she hasn't ever listened and has continued to cancel our plans we made first in order to hang out with other people that she made new plans with.

Maybe I have made myself too available to my friends. They think "oh, I can just hang out with her any old time." Or maybe plans with anyone besides me is more desirable. They swear it's not that they don't not want to hang out with me and that I haven't done anything wrong but they still continue. I feel like I'm going crazy because I feel like it is really rude to repeatedly do this to someone especially if they've communicated how they feel about it and that there are very deep issues with my family and old friends that make it even more hurtful. But no one else seems to care. No one seems to listen. If they've listened, they don't care to stop. Which is even more painful than the fact that they cancel on me for new plans with other people routinely.

That being said, my "best friend" and I have fought about this countless times. When I say fight, I mean I get upset and she becomes extremely defensive and won't apologize. No matter how politely and gently I've tried to communicate with her. She doesn't want to accept that what she is doing is wrong. Which means the only way we reconcile is when I just decide to forgive her over and over again for some reason. Even though there is no promises to change, only fake and empty apologies.

Our other friend is on her side too. Even though she was just in a similar situation as me, she doesn't care because it's not her in this seat right now. When I pointed out how hypocritical she is being, she decided to make it extremely obvious that she believes that her feelings are more valid than mine and that her issue was more important than mine. They twist my words to make me feel like what I'm upset about is trivial, unimportant, and ridiculous. I know that sometimes it's hard to understand someone else's feelings, especially when there is trauma involved. You don't understand other people's triggers. But I know that it is valid and important and I have been working on it in therapy.

The worst part is that I know their lives are just continuing as per usual. They don't care that they've ruined their friendship with me. There is a lot more context that I can't get into and I honestly can't talk about this anymore because the situation is still a sore spot for me and I am still hurting really bad because of it.

My "best friend" was supposed to come with me back to my home state, visit my family with me, and then visit a city we decided that we wanted to move to together. But since this falling out, she said that it was best that she didn't come with me. I haven't heard from her since and I'm honestly not sure I care to.

But I was determined to go, especially because I was originally going to come up to visit for my little sisters birthday. And I haven't seen my young nieces and nephews in a long time. They are growing so fast and I want to be in their lives as much as I can, I want to be close to them. I felt so horrible and honestly sewerslidal because of the way that they were treating me that my parents and I decided that I should make the 10 hour drive back home by myself a day early so that I would be safe from hurting myself and be in the comfort of my family. I also really needed my oldest sister, she is probably the person who has consistently understood me the most. We have a lot in common besides her being 14 years older than me.

10 hours is a lot to drive alone. Well I guess I wasn't completely alone. My gorgiana, babiest, sweetest emotional support dog came with me. Unfortunately though she wasn't much comfort as she gets nervous in the car and I decided she would probably be able to deal with the ride a lot better if she was in her crate. But I was still glad she was there. She got to see her sister again, who she hasn't been able to see in almost two years since I moved away and her sister still lives with my family (she's technically my little sister's dog). I thought it would be hard for me because I would be thinking about my distress the whole time but I actually didn't think about it or even cry once.

Coming home was definitely the right move. I became an aunt at 9 years old, so I am pretty close to my oldest niece. Yesterday was my first full day here, and her and I spend most the day together. Even though she's still pretty young, I told her a bit about my problems and I actually felt comfort from what she had to say. I realized first hand that underestimating people can really limit you. If I hadn't asked for an elementary school student's advice, I wouldn't have heard some things that made me feel a lot better. My family really loves me no matter what.

I also got to help my little sister get ready for prom and take the pictures for her and her date. (note: if I keep referring to her as my little sister, I am making this clarification because I have three sisters... and also three brothers). She is so beautiful, compassionate, and unique. Right now I think she feels like she doesn't quite fit in but I think one day she will appreciate it just like I have. It's not fun to be like everyone else. It's best to be yourself. To feed into your interests, even if they aren't popular. I feel sad that she is going through such a big time in her life and I'm so far from her. She's the youngest (just after me), so she's the last one living with my parents.

Someone might ask why I don't just move back home. I'm not going to school right now and I could probably get a better paying job here (more familial connections, higher minimum wage). I just have a lot of bad memories here. My brother died here, my high school experience was extremely hard here, and worst of all my r@p!st lives here. For years I have been "irrationally" scared when I left my house that I would run into him. Even when I'm at my home, states away, I feel anxiety specifically when I see a truck. Particularly Ford trucks. Even if it's not the one he owned when I knew him, my stomach tightens and twists when I see them. Which is something I've been working on in therapy, but Rome wasn't built over night.

Yesterday, I was driving and I saw him. In a truck. A different one than the one he had when I knew him. Which one may say, "well how do you know it was him then?" It was his father's truck, I know it. I believe his wife was in the front seat. I sat there before her. His face is engrained into my brain. I almost know the exact shirt he was wearing, it was his style. Somewhat unique. Unique enough to convince me, without a doubt in my mind, that the man I had seen was him. And I broke DOWN. My worst fear. My biggest anxiety. The only comfort I had before was that everyone had convinced me that it was extremely unlikely. And now that what I thought was an illogical fear had happened, I feel like I've taken 3 steps back.

I called my mom, who knows what happened. She assured me that he can't hurt me now. Even though he knows where I live, and knows my car. I was so scared that he saw me. But honestly, I'm not really he would recognize me anyways. I've changed a lot since then. But it still left me really shaken up. Being here brings up all the fear and pain that I was left with. It reminds me of all the people that didn't believe me. And the fact that he got away with it and is living his life as normal and I can't and it's not fair. The lemon juice in my reopened wound: I can't even talk about it with my so called best friends.

The last thing: I actually got really curious about the Netflix show "XO Kitty" which is a series about the little sister of Laura Jean in the "To All the Boys I Loved Before" trilogy. Although I hated those movies (not gonna get into it, this is lengthy enough as is), this series was actually super good I think. I won't spoil but it was really interesting but it gave me hope. Even if the most embarrassing or most painful thing you could imagine happening really does happen, you can always rebuild. You can always come back.

That's all for this entry, if anyone even reads this I hope you found it interesting/entertaining. I don't mind if no one is reading and I'm just speaking to the void. I just need somewhere to let out my thoughts and I've deleted my other social media because I just need a break from all those people around me that I can't even say for certain if they care about me at all. But yeah... Questions and advice are welcome <3

[hecate-spawn]

And They Were Roommates

Author notes: hi hi! This is going to be my first time writing and publishing a proper story on tumblr! It's about two teenagers who end up living together. It takes place in Tokyo. I hope you enjoy it! CW: none. Talk of past relationship Word count:2352 7 pages

Chapter 1: Flyers

  Mira’s POV

I’m not picky with who my roommate is. You think the earth is flat? Sure buddy, whatever floats your boat. Chronically online? Same actually. Into kinky shit? Do that with someone else when I’m not around. Ex Yakuza member? Just don’t get me more involved than I’d like. Basically, as long as you leave me alone and respect my space, feel free to room with me.

However…

I am still a fifteen year old girl living alone that doesn’t exercise nearly as much as I should so filtering my roommate options more than “not an incel” and “under 35” is a good idea.

I think the ideal roommate would be someone my age who is also chronically online. Gender and sexual/romantic orientation be damned as long as they respect my boundaries.

Now I do the thing all sensible people do when roommate hunting.

I put up flyers. In the mall of course; where else would I put them? A prison? Well I suppose I could put them up at the local arcade and some cafes.

“Urgh, I wanna finish my anime though,” I huff, tacking up another poster in the food court. It’s a big space in the centre of the mall and it almost always has people there from the time it opens to the time it closes. The food court was a big, circular space outside. It has all the restaurants like Mcdonald’s, Sukiya, Starbucks, Matsuya, KFC, and, well you get the idea. Coffee tables usually had 2-4 folding chairs in the centre with an outer ring so people could walk around and order food from their desired restaurant. It’s a great place to hang out with your friends.

If you have any that is.

In case you couldn’t tell, I don’t really have friends. The three that I do have are two online friends who I’ve never met in real life and my ex boyfriend. I feel like all these relationships would have red flags at a first glance, but they’re all trustworthy people. Well, I at least know my ex is, since I’ve met him face to face.

I walk through the mall, passing all the different types of stores and take a left, exiting the mall, letting the sun shine its rays down on me. While I prefer my dark, air conditioned room, the sun and fresh air gives me power and a touch of energy. Not enough to, per say, run a marathon but enough that I can do the fifteen minute walk from the mall to the arcade. By the time I got there my energy was gone in the sense that I wasn’t as “preppy” and more “I want to go back to fucking up newbies in call of duty” if you know what I mean.

“Uh Yuki, what are you doing?” Well speak of the devil. I know that voice. It’s one of the few people I’m actually friends with.

“Stop being so formal Kyo. I told you, just Mira is fine.”

Who knew I’d run into him here. Sweat is dripping down his face, making his brown hair stick to it and there’s a dark spot at the front of his shirt. Who in their right mind would willingly get that sweaty during summer in Japan. Actually, was that sweat or water from… I don’t know, running around in a sprinkler?

“Sorry,” he apologises. “I’m just used to calling most girls by their last name. And since we’re not, you know, together any more I wasn’t sure if it’d still be alright.”

“Pfft. Don’t worry, it's fine,” I give a slight chuckle. “I just don’t like it when people are all formal with me. So just go back to calling me Mira.”

“Y-yeah. Right, sorry.”

“Dude stop apologising, it's not your fault.”

“Sor- um, OK.”

I ruffle his hair. It’s warm and sticky, very much matted to his head. I’m like, 99% sure this is sweat but I still want to know if my “theory” is correct, so I ask.

“Oh yeah it’s sweat,” Kyo confirms. “I have baseball practice for the summer.”

“Wow, that’s kind of amazing,” I say. It’s amazing to me and my hermit ass, but I’m pretty sure this is just basic stuff people do.  Not to say that I don’t exercise at all. I usually try to get out of the house for one hour everyday. I mostly go on walks but sometimes I climb trees. It feels more natural than sitting on a rooftop and swinging your legs. It’s also safer and easier to people-watch.

“Not really,” he replies. “Just basic stuff.” “Well it’s amazing to me. Oh! Before I forget-” I take a few flyers from my mini backpack. “I’m looking for a roommate. I can’t pay rent next month only taking commissions and whatever I have left of my savings. If you know someone interested, preferably around my age but I don’t care, then tell ‘em to give me a call.”

“Yu- Mira, I don’t think there are a lot of high schoolers that are looking for an apartment,” he takes a flyer and gives me a look of what I assume to be pity. 

“Reaally encouraging Kyo.”

“Look, I’m just being realistic. I’ll put these flyers up, but I do have one question.”

“Shoot.”

“Why do you have a two room apartment anyway?”

Caught off guard by the question, I laugh. Honestly, I don’t know what it is about Kyo, but his genuine questions, especially blunt ones like that, are just kind of fucking hilarious. “I use the extra room for storage and as a writing room. It looks like a fucking spider decorated it with the amount of string and pins I’ve used to organise it.”

“That… doesn’t sound very organised.”

“I really like the fact you’re blunt,” I say. He never gave me that impression when we first met. Honestly, he still doesn’t give me that impression now. His straight brown hair matted to his baby face and big amber eyes, he seems like such a quiet and timid person. Another word I’d use to describe his appearance other than cute is submissive. Kyo is all those things, but not so much that he’s a pushover.

“Seriously?” He asks, eyes wide.

“Seriously. It’s one of my favourite things about you. I can’t sugar coat my words around everyone so it’s nice that I can just… be more honest around you I guess?”

“I’m pretty sure I got the bluntness from you Mira.”

“Well, I think I started to be less of a prick thanks to you. Looks like we both got something out of our relationship. Other than being friends of course.”

“You… think we’re friends?”

I smile and it doesn’t feel forced. “Well what else would we be? Crazy exes that can’t be in a room for two seconds without fighting? We’ve known each other too long to be acquaintances. Plus, we hang out a lot”

“Yeah I guess you’re right,” Kyo says sheepishly. “It’s just weird hearing you say it.”

Now that surprises me. Did I really act that distant and cold? I mean, I guess I did when we first broke up but I didn’t know how to act. It was my first relationship and I was the one who broke it off so wasn’t that how it was supposed to go? I was supposed to be the asshole who didn’t love you, then you find someone and realise that you’re so much better off.

But with Kyo that didn’t really happen. A week later he messages me on Discord to see if I want to play Genshin and the rest is history.

“Oh, crap! I gotta go pick up groceries for my mom! I totally forgot.” Kyo lets out a disappointed sigh, and starts jogging away. “See you later Mira!” He turns back to wave at me before being swallowed up by the crowd. I offer a small wave and look at the stack of papers in my other hand. Doing the rest of these is going to be a drag. I know a way to get it done quickly but it would probably be too dangerous. I guess that means I have to use my “author powers” and get creative.

Let’s see. I could just start handing them out but that’s a lot of social interaction with random people I don’t know. Plus, I’m probably going to get weird looks. I could also scatter the papers to the wind, but it would just end up as trash. Of course I can always just do the sensible thing and continue to tape them up, but I’d rather not. 

The longer I think the more I can feel the sun’s hot rays on my back, and my hair starts sticking to the back of my neck. Why did I wear a black sweater out here? Seriously, who forgets to take something like that off? Seems like I’m that someone. At least I had the sense to wear a T-shirt under it… Which is also black. I keep saying I need to expand my colour pallet to be more than blacks and greys with the occasional splash of white, purple and green, but I just get distracted. I’m still close to the mall and I have enough for at least a shirt and shorts.

“Might as well. I’ll at least be out of the sun.”

Taking off my sweater I wrap it around my waist and grudgingly walk back to the mall, which is quite crowded by this time. Makes sense since it’s five o’clock. A lot of people get off work around this time, and usually they’re hungry. Of course there’s also the couples on a date, the teens hanging out with friends, and families wanting a (somewhat) relaxing without the stress of cooking.

Then you have me, the idiot with summer clothes exclusively in black and dark shades of grey. Yeah I’m starting to grasp the reality of my own stupidity.  I conveniently left out the part where most of the clothes I own also happen to be various hoodies and sweatpants. Wow… I need to get out of my room more often.

I need to but I don’t want to. That’s the main problem. My want is always stronger and more important than my need to me. Not a healthy trait but I’m still alive so to me, that’s basically all that matters other than being able to write.

“How may I help you?” Someone asks. Noticing the person at my side I look them over. Bubblegum pink hair down to their waist, big ice blue eyes and a tall, slender frame. If they were a model I wouldn’t be surprised. Judging by their uniform and name tag They work here. Their general look makes me assume this is a girl.

“I’m looking for a summer outfit,” I say. “Your name tag says you’re Hoshi Asuka. Is Hoshi-san alright?”

“Hmm,” the worker purses her lips. “I prefer Hoshi-chan. Cuz I’m cute.” She gives me a wink and smiles. Clearly a teenager. Probably around my age too. “So looking for a summer outfit eh?”

“Yeah. Anything comfortable really.”

The girl sighs. “You’ll have to give me more than that. Like, are you looking for a dress or a-”

“I’m looking for a dress,” I say quickly, cutting her off. “Preferably not white. That will get dirty quickly.”

“Alright! Let’s see,” Hoshi leads me to the dresses. It’s beside the skirts’ section and if you turn the corner you’d find the dressing room. The dress section and many racks of different types, from modest dresses reaching to past the knees and covering up to the neck to ones that reach to the thighs and have more of an open neckline and ruffled sleeves. Of course there were other dresses that were more of adults looking to party or a night out with their partner. A few could barely cover your ass.

“You have a wide selection,” I say.

“A lot of women shop here so we tend to have a wide selection,” Hoshi replies. “Certain style you’re looking for?”

“Umm casual? Not too tight. Maybe around my knees?”

“Got it! You’d probably be looking for,” she rummaged around in the racks, before pulling out a dark purple dress. The dress was sleeveless, only covering my shoulders, with a boat neckline and a ruffled hem that was just above my knees. I think it’s rather cute.

“How much?”

“About four thousand five hundred yen.”

“Do you have a size medium?”

“This is a medium.”

“Ah. I’ll just take this to check out.”

Hoshi hands me the dress, taking the hanger off so I don’t accidentally take it home. Carrying this and my flyers are going to be hard and the walk from here to my apartment complex. It would be so much easier if I looked like a cute sociable girl instead of a hot mess. It’d also be better if I was cute and sociable but that’s life I guess. While I can’t change myself, the answer to my problems is right in front of me.

I adjust my grip on the dress and put down my flyers on a nearby table holding different varieties of clothing, all neatly folded.

“If you can I hand these out please,” I say gesturing to the stack of paper. “That would be nice. If not just shred it I suppose. Thanks for your help.”

“W-wait, excuse me ma’am I can’t just-” she splutters.

I don’t hear the rest of what she says as I go to pay for my dress. It’s actually quite a nice one, I hope it doesn’t collect dust in my musty closet.

And I sure hope I get that roommate.