#Get you a man who will have a matching musical instrument with you | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 11 months

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Cinderella | Yandere Twisted Wonderland

You awoke to the kneading of a suited cat against your chest. Slow to wake you let your head fall back into the plush of your bed only to be called by a peeved meow.

“I know. I know Luci. I’m coming.”

Not even bothering to change out of your pajamas you slipped into your cat-themed slippers and followed behind the cat bee-lining it to his feeding tray. You took out the pre-plated meal as quickly as possible and heated it. Lifting yourself off the ground onto the adjacent counter you saved yourself from the anxious pawing that Lucius was doing on the floor parallel to the activated microwave. Hearing a familiar tune play you opened the mini door to promptly bring the feisty cat his meal. You sighed, satisfied as you heard the wet and determined sounds of a feeding house cat.

Looking out from the kitchen and foyer you spied the moving shadow under the door of the study. You skipped across the threshold being sure to quiet yourself to tiptoe as you creaked the door open. Within the crack, you watched your stepfather move across the bookshelves, eventually turning so that his back was to the door. Fighting giggles you let yourself be careful of where you stepped to avoid the creaking floorboards, doing your best to creep up on the old man.

“Good morning to you as well (Y/n).”

You sucked your teeth, sitting on one of the many plush armchairs.

“Awww man I thought I caught you good!”

The old man let a ghost of a smile on his face as he made his final selections.

“What did I say about talking like that? At this rate, you will say whatever comes to mind.”

“You already know I do, old dude!”

He turned with a shake of his head carrying the stack he’d made out of the room; you followed suit. Up the stairs and down the hall past the doors of the ones who still had yet to wake. Past the bathroom, the powder room, and into the music room. It was a big room with only two instruments in the corner, two stools, and a flimsy podium to match. He said it was for better acoustics but you guessed he just wanted a room without the clutter that seemed to follow those two.

Setting his books down on a faraway coffee table, he only bought one over to the podium. Adjusting it until he deemed it perfect he stopped to see his dear cat enter the room. Scooping him up, he walked over to your leaning form against the door.

“Thank you for feeding Lucius. I’ve been diving…into some old texts. You know how I get so distracted with that.”

“It’s fine. I know you struggle with the microwave, anyway.” The snide comment has Mozus bristling with embarrassment.

“I don’t struggle with it…I’m just…learning as I go along.”

“Sure. Sure. But we know the truth, right Lucius?”

“Mreow!”

You laugh, hearing a hushed ‘traitor’ as you make your escape headed back to your room. You wonder if it is too soon to make a wish, that you’ll be back in bed before they wake.

“Oi oi Frog what are you doing up without waking me!?”

Too late. You traipse tiredly toward the redheaded misfit seeing that he’s dressed for the day and already sporting a mean face.

“Well sorry,” you dragged the word with a roll of your eyes. “Next time you want to wake up this early leave your cat door unlocked!”

“Eeegh!? And let the furball go through my stuff!? No way!”

“Then don’t come out whining then.”

“Hey don’t you tell me how to-”

“Good Morning you guys!”

With a yawn, in came Deuce with a kinder disposition than Ace. You gave him a ‘morning’ to which Ace only scoffed before letting his eyes land on you. Seeing as they were both up and dressed you guessed you’d deliver the news.

“Guess who’s having lessons today?”

“You?” Deuce tried.

“Ha no, flute and piano! Plus whatever’s in the ‘old texts’”

They groaned once again letting their eyes fall on you and staying there before you shooed them off. Letting them pass you, you watched as Deuce walked robotically down the hall followed by Ace who was slow to leave. With a smirk on his face, he turned to you.

“Feeling cold in just your jammies, huh?”

You squinted your face in confusion before a look down had you crossing your arms around your chest. You shot him a disgusted look as he skipped into the music room; another roll of your eyes and you retreated to the comfort of your room.

Dressed for the day you wandered back to the music room; peaking in on the instruction they needed. They were huddled around Mozus as he instructed movements with his pointer stick, you compared it to that of a wizard in a book of fiction. The looks on their faces were serious–a rare thing for the idiots that never grasped anything. You leaned in only to catch snippets of what they were saying.

“...protect them…whatever it…takes…”

“... even…?”

“Yup, I mean who wouldn’t?”

Before you could listen any further they quieted upon someone’s alert of your presence. The cat meowed loudly at you through the crack of the door; you shushed the cat as you let yourself in giving him the pets he probably wanted. It wouldn’t be odd if it weren’t for their immediate actions to look as if they were doing something else. Mozus and Ace played it easy either looking at a book or blowing a raspberry before writing something. Deuce was the dead giveaway; eyes widening and darting across the room as he flailed to read a book upside down.

“Sooo what’ya doin’?

“We’re about to begin a music lesson if you’d like to join us?”

Ace was at the piano cracking his knuckles and hands as if he were about to do manual labor. Deuce was turning red as he practiced harsh blowing techniques into the air before bringing the flute to his lips.

“No no! I’m good.” You frantically spoke. You’d been cursed to hear their harmonies before and you would not let yourself be tortured in such a way again. You began to back out of the room only for Mozus to call for you.

“(Y/n) if you’d be willing would you mind running some errands?”

“Sure!” You liked to go on errands, it was the only thing you were really allowed to do.

“Make sure to take Lucius with you!”

The cat was already meowing at you down the hallway going into your room. He had the right idea the moment they touched those instruments.

“Thanks again, Trey! You know how much Trein loves your bread.”

“Oh? Is he the only one?” Trey teased as he placed the wrapped loaves into your basket.

“Well…maybe…I’ll help myself to a few slices if there’s any left. Ace and Deuce are ravenous.”

Behind his frames, you could see his eyes glaze over in a disgruntled haze but as quickly as it came it left; letting a smile spread across his face.

“Then maybe I’ll give you an extra loaf. Just for you to enjoy.”

Lucius gave a pensive meow.

“Ah, I don’t know…I have other errands to run and I don’t have anything extra.”

“No worries, I’ll give you an extra for free… it's a…creme special…”

You tilted your head in thought genuinely trying to think of what wouldn’t leave you in a bad light.

“But I wouldn’t want you wasting product on something yer givin’ for free.”

“No worries it was going stale anyway, just wait here just a second.”

The baker disappeared behind into the kitchen; in the meantime, you rocked on your heels. Shushing the cat that seemed to get antsier by the second, making you internally plead that Trey hurries it up. As if to answer your call the baker emerged looking flushed but proud he handed you the clear-wrapped piping hot bread with a white glaze on it. Adding it to the other loaves of bread you dismissed yourself with an honest curtsy figuring it’d leave you less in debt to him.

“Thanks again, Trey! Though I doubt this was going stale!”

“Please it was on its way out! Have a good day, (Y/n)!”

“You too, man!”

You waved, walking out the door of the bakery straight to your car gingerly placing the bread basket and Lucius in the backseat. You made sure to give the needy kitty a rub before driving to your next destination: the tailor. Ace and Deuce had a nasty habit of somehow destroying everything they owned within a twenty-hour period; suits were no exception. So for your last errand of the day you were collecting an order of suits for them. With Trein’s name, you let the stuttery attendant disappear into the backroom before letting your eyes wander in wait.

“Ooh, that suit…”

Speaking to no one you eyed the mannequin sporting a character of a suit. Exaggerated points and a tail that gave it a regal feel; you imagined yourself fitting snugly in its place. You imagined a jealous scoff of Ace and the awe on Deuce’s face as you posed next to their plain, irresponsible suits. You smirked to yourself, nodding to the ceiling as you imagined the scene so vividly.

“You should get it.”

Your eyes snapped open to someone new, a boy with lilac hair and soft features. His short stature leaned against the counter as he stared in your direction. You straightened yourself out crossing your arms as you got a read on this dude’s emotion,

“Excuse me?”

“You like the suit, don’t you? And we both know you’d look good in it so just do it.”

Your eyes drifted longingly to the suit before darting back to the man or rather in his general direction.

“Hey?! What do you–mean by that?”

Before you could search for the mysterious complimenter, the attendant returned with two wrapped suits letting you carry out the transaction. You let your eyes roam the shop once more before asking the fidgeting attendant.

“Hey, who was with you today?”

“W-what?”

“T-the the little man, he was trying his best to sell that suit over there. Is he a new employee or–?”

“Uhm I’m the only one on staff today..did someone come into the shop?” She murmured as she looked to the distance in thought,” Maybe the bell rang and I didn’t notice?”

You shook your free hand in an attempt to calm her down, “It's fine it’s fine, I’m probably just hungry. Welp thank you and have a good day!”

You dismissed yourself going back to your air-conditioning car with Lucius sitting in the front seat as if waiting for you to return. Thanking the cat for not honking your horn, you draped the suits on the passenger seat; scooping up the cat you took the car out of park. Sending one last look towards the tailor before driving off.

For a good half of the ride, you kept going back to the strange fellow in the store. He did have a different kind of energy around him…it felt almost…sparkly? That aside you decided to forget about the whole encounter and instead focus on the road. Speaking of, your feline passenger was being especially quiet; a far cry from the usually vocal meowing as he tries to sit in your lap. Waiting until a stop light you let yourself look in the rearview mirror to spot Lucius pawing at the opening of the bread basket.

“Lucius, please don’t touch that.”

You cursed yourself for not bringing a toy for him; focusing on getting home fast enough before any damage could be done. When you pulled into the driveway you could already see the vehicle of another one that represents the royal convoy. You hurriedly grabbed everything you’ve gathered leaving the door open to let Lucius run in himself. The cat did just that with a certain loaf in tow.

“Lucius!? Hey! That’s my bread, Lucy come on!”

You struggled to follow the cat inside as you juggled the suits and the bread basket hanging on your arm. Nonetheless, you made your way in completely unaware of the company your family was entertaining.

“-as I was saying we will not be needing any more invitations.”

“And as I see it you will be needing more invitations.” The determined voice came from who you assumed must’ve been the owner of the royal vehicle. “Ruggie if you please.”

Peeking out from behind your little pile you spied the royal colors of orange and black worn by a beefy guy with dark skin and white hair. You quickly averted your eyes when his amber eyes stared intensely into yours, disappearing into the kitchen you fanned yourself to fruitlessly calm the heat that enveloped your face; missing the dispute your father and the knight seemed to have with your father.

“I will repeat..that is but a servant: someone who best stays with the house for our livelihood.”

“So you insist…” The amber-eyed knight sneered in disbelief looking at his confidant who reentered the room with a framed photo in his hands.

“Well, it doesn’t seem like this…servant of yours…is all that depended on to sort your house.” Snickering to himself Ruggie flung a decorative globe from his pocket leaving Deuce to lunge as he caught the item. “Which is the house of an upper-middle-class family that can certainly afford a night on the town. Though I get why you’d want to keep them a secret they are quite the…catch.”

On the last word, the royal attendant threw the frame in Mozus’ direction which he caught gingerly holding the frame to his chest as the knight further glared at him. The royal envelope was also shoved in his direction dropping it at his feet when he made no moves to receive it.

“His Highness expects all to be there. Good day.”

“Hishishishi, bye-bye.”

Both knight and attendant left with a glare and smirk respectively before leaving as swiftly as they came; leaving their hosts in a dreary position. Ace and Deuce entered the foyer both cradling various pictures and artistic decor. Exchanging dark looks with one another as you finally entered the foyer, awkwardly swinging your arms back and forth as you picked up on the tense atmosphere.

“Sooo you guys want to tell me about what happened there? Did Ace finally get caught for some stupid crime?” You tried to lighten the mood as you poked fun at Ace. But he didn’t react to you simply looking away as Deuce caved.

“Well no it's more like we have something to tell you–what?”

Elbowed in the ribs the boys begin something of a glaring contest which has Mozus intervening. Sending them away with a look you and your step-father are the only ones left in the room as the two grumbles to their rooms.

“So what’s this all about?”

“The prince is holding a banquet..in hopes of finding a spouse.” Mozus sighed as he moved towards the study; sitting in his chair. “His employees were adamant that we all make an appearance.”

“All of us?” Sitting across from him you looked into his tired eyes.

“Yes. I’m under the impression that they believe us to be…abusive to you…so they were insistent that you attend.”

You sucked your teeth in annoyance. “Can’t we like makeup an excuse…like that my formal wear got destroyed or something? I mean if they had any doubts I could just back it up.”

Mozus let out a weary sigh as he stared into the distance.

“But I doubt that would work, they are royalty after all.”

“Royalty Shmoyalty we pay our taxes and as such, we should be allowed to marry who we please. And not be forced to play bachelorette with this prince-guy.”

He laughed at your statement, settling into the chair as you do the same. Smiling at his ounce of joy that settled into a look of trust.

“So…will you be alright not to attend…under such circumstances?”

“Yeah of course! Lucius and I can have a ball of our own…all under a happy accident.”

___________________________________________________

“Told you they’d be slippery.” Prince Leona laughed as he listened to the feedback of the conversation. Amused by the way his knight and attendant’s eyes widen as they listened in. As he predicted his prey and their herd were a slippery bunch; collectively united to make his hunt that much harder. While he did prefer to nap rather than hunt he didn’t mind the means all that much when the end would be so fulfilling.

“Uh, you sure you really want this one? I don’t know if it’s worth marrying into a family brave enough to defy the crown.”

“I- ’ll have to agree with Ruggie-senpai on this one. Would you really want to mate with someone with so many…admirers.”

The knight spoke frankly, having tailed the auspicious character that everyone couldn’t help but swoon over. Too often had he watched the citizens sink into the darkest depths of depravity all in pursuit of this…(Y/n)-character. For all, he could deduct it wouldn’t be bizarre that those with more sway in nobility or even other kingdoms may come to desire them the same way. They could use their power after being exposed to them either through violence or diplomatic servitude.

(Y/N) Trein was a dangerous specimen, to Jack, for someone so unaware of their effect on people they easily captivate anyone that so much as glances at them. He didn’t know what scared him more the prospect of many endangering the life of his prince or the pull of his own desire for you. It was shameful but he found no solace in running from his emotions. All he knew is that it’d be trouble if his master decided to wed you…

“Heh. Don’t you think that’s a good enough reason anyway?” Leona snickered at his subordinates’ blinking in confusion.

“Who else will have the resources to keep such a snare, locked up tight?”

“Then what about the bigwigs? Won’t they want to see them?” Ruggie tested, hoping to catch the Prince off-guard. Leona only laughed flashing his canines in a toothy grin.

“I doubt you’d two would let that happen,” He laughed at the shocked look Jack would make as he turned to see Ruggie’s expression of panic. “Don’t think I couldn’t tell, they are practically irresistible.”

“A-aren’t you…worried that we’d steal them from you?”

Leona leaned back with his hands behind his head, letting his legs cross on the center console smirking to himself.

“Tch steal them and face the entire fleet of my brother’s kingdom? Fat chance. Jack’s too uptight and Ruggie’d run out of money,” the two shrugged and turned away in affirmation.

“Besides we’re all quite good at sharing with one another. Right, Jack?”

“Hishishishi”

Jack’s cheeks dusted with heat as Ruggie snickered, bashfully putting his arms behind his head. Letting the hyena calm his laughter, the knight cleared his throat already paging the royal tailors.

“I’ll go ahead and place the orders. One for a simple delivery and the second one for their untimely incident.

__________________________________________________________

“Ooops the outfit I just got from the royal family ended up in the furnace. Oh—ACE! Are you paying attention!”

“What?”

He looked up at you with the residue of whatever he was eating on his face as he gave you a stupid dumbfounded look. You sneered and rolled your eyes resisting the urge to pull at his ear or smack him upside the head but since his eyes were on you you continued.

“Ace. Look at what’s happened to my outfit from the royal family, I’ve accidentally thrown it into the furnace. See?”

“Uhhh okay? You wanna medal of somethin’?”

You just needed a witness. You just needed a witness. Carrying what you could ‘save’ from the furnace you put it in a metal bucket as you carried it to your father who sat dutifully writing a letter to the prince’s staff. You sweatdropped at his old-fashioned style as you set down your evidence for your computer already typing the beginning of his letter.

“Hey, it might arrive in time if we email them a picture..”

“...I guess that would serve our cause just as nicely.”

While you weren’t worried about informing them of your absence so early you didn’t want your Father who was guaranteed to possibly run into those intimidating lackeys to be accused of not even attempting. With hours until the banquet it would put the royal family in the impossible position of producing a tailor–made masterpiece in time. You left him to type awkwardly at the computer, hoping to save him from the embarrassment of your pity.

“Well, then I ought to get ready for the night.”

You had grand plans to enact a night full of debauchery as you relished in the emptiness of the house. Which consisted of finally going through the steamy selections Trein believed to be a pile of ash. Along with preparing to prepare for the turf war of pranks that Ace and Deuce seemed to endlessly rule. It would be glorious! That being said, you wasted no time bugging the duo to prepare for their departure as well as protecting their suits from whatever disaster seems to follow them.

Trein was also kept busy not only preparing his email but steeling himself as he slid his wand into the undercoat of his suit. Despite your attempt to help he was certain the prince wouldn’t take kindly to this…incident. He was prepared to lose the battle himself but his sons were the only ones he needed to keep safe. Anyone would carry out his will, should the worse come to be, it’d be them.

“Y-you don’t think we’ll have to use these…do you?”

Deuce’s breathless whisper weighed heavy on Trein’s heart but he steeled himself. They need to be strong and as their only role model left he needed to embody that. So with eyes cold and distant, he encouraged them to be prepared.

“I won’t cry for you old man because you’re not dying. And (Y/n)’s not going to end up with that pompous prince anyway! Not if I have anything to say about it!”

“Y-yeah.”

Could a father be more proud? His hugs were tight and firm, a silent reminder of his love before facing you. You have always been a joy to nurture. Prideful and loving it hurt not to warn you of his possible end but he couldn’t bring himself to worry you now. So with an ache in his heart, he smiled a woeful ‘farewell’ as you giggled something unread. But he couldn’t have asked for a better send-off.

“Yes! Now that they’re gone I can be an absolute menace!”

And your night of menacing would begin as you begin your plans for the night. Completely unminding of the sun setting as you continued to enjoy your time in an empty house. All was well traps were set, and treats were had but then an ominous knock at the door had you shooting off the couch.

“Delivery of the royal family.”

The sound of steps quickly receding and the sound of tires skirting off. You rushed to the door, opening it to find a dreaded copy of the outfit you destroyed hours before. Were you wrong? Was the royal family truly so prominent that they were fast enough to prepare this!? You took it inside and began to pace…surely they shouldn’t expect you to show up with your family’s car already gone? But if they were so adamant about something as small as this perhaps they would send a car. Or some form of transportation so that your father would not be at fault, right? Right?!

You stuck your head out into the dark and chilling night, looking down the street across the estate. Alas, no car or limo was in sight nor the sound of any vehicles on the street. With a heart full of anxiety you turned back into your home, closing the door. You kept your eyes trained on the wooden floorboards as you wracked your brain for some solution.

“Well, that’s convenient.”

The sultry voice has you snapping in horror to the living room where a man or rather three were hovering around. In the armchair facing the door was a man with blonde hair and purple tips that curled at the sparkling surface of his purple suit that’s back curtained into a tuft half-skirt. He wore a full face of makeup, sporting a knowing smolder and a raised chin giving a look of refinement. The other man with blonde hair in a bowl cut stood just behind the same chair dressed in a matching tail suit that reached dramatically at his calves. He tipped his hat with a widening smile as you met his emerald gaze.

“Bonjour mon cheri, it's a pleasure to finally meet you.”

“F-finally?”

You were slow to join them in the living room despite their unchallenging demeanor. Only moving forward when the third male with soft features was lackadaisically rifling through the frames of your family on a nearby coffee table. You ran over taking it from him to put it back in its place, the lavender-haired male shrugged returning to the side of the man with folded hands in the chair. You scratched at your head as you took in the odd throuple.

“So what are you? How did you get in here? Why are you–”

“We don’t have much time (Y/n) so I’ll make this short. Rook!”

The blonde with the hat stepped forward, “Yes My Queen!”

Clearing his throat he opened his hands as he presented each of them.

“We are your fairy…helpers. This Roi du Poison: Vil and this is Monsieur Crabapple: Epel and as you’ve heard I am Rook! We are at your service for the night!”

You opened your mouth to respond, stopped by Vil’s raised hand. He sighs and shakes his head.

“I’m certain you have questions (Y/n), but we don’t have time for that. At this moment Mozus Trein is ingesting the poison that will kill him at the stroke of midnight.”

“What–! Why didn’t you say something sooner!”

“I’m telling you now so hush. We’ll give you the antidote but-”

“But?”

Rook excitedly chimed “You must be back by midnight! Otherwise–”

This time it was Epel who spoke in a hasty tone, “Or we’ll be forced to collect a form of payment from the life that was saved.”

“Do you accept?”

His made-up smile was unreadable but his eyes smiled with curiosity. As though you’d have any other answer to their proposal.

“I accept.”

Rook cheered while you unraveled the gaudy garments that matched the kingdom’s colors. Vil grimaced and gagged.

“Oh no, I am not letting you arrive in that! Especially not late!”

As if he was gliding he stood up from his seat to stand nearly chest to chest with you. You pulled away when he moved his hand to your face, flashing you a look of solemn sarcasm before materializing a wand in a flash of sparkles.

Smiling at your dropped jaw he waved the wand over your head. Just like its appearance the wand sprinkled sparkles all over your lounge clothes transforming them into a magnificent outfit, with frills and folds that added a new type of elegance. You even felt a tiara appear on your head before Vil slapped your hand away. The final touch was a stylish pair of sneakers, you flashed him a curious look while he sighed.

“Judging by the time,” He flashed a look at the clock. “You’ll need to move fast, ballroom wear isn’t exactly what you need.”

“Touche”

Rook appeared from behind him with a mirror in hand showing the unfamiliar reflection of you in stellar makeup.

“You look like rêve dans la vraie vie!”

“Uh, thanks?”

Smoothing out the outstanding frills and floof you hurried to the door before returning to Vil who shook his head again before handing you the vial with a color-changing liquid. You held it close, finding a secure pocket to store the vial before once again heading to the door to make a hard stop with sunken shoulders.

“Guys! I don’t have a car!”

Vil deadpanned, “Not my department.”

“It’s mine!” Epel shouted, smiling widely as he took your hand with his leading you out the door. Holding you behind him, he enthusiastically pulled out his wand and waved it wildly around, much less precise as Vil had done.

Similar sparkles popped wildly about to reveal a coolish blue and purple vehicle. Screaming slim and sleek it looks like the latest edition of motorcyle. Noting how it matched your look, you jumped as the engine revved animatedly as though it was calling out to you. Turning to Epel who was proudly smiling at your shocked face.

“B-but I don’t know how to ride–”

“Don’t worry! It’s magic! Now go! go!”

He pushed you along to start running towards the bike. You leaned forward, gripping the handles feeling a warm urge rush over you as you reeled your right hand back to try the engine. Booming loud and spiking your adrenaline you almost missed the warning he gave as you kicked up the stand.

“Once you get closer to the time limit it’s not going to work the same.”

“Okay got it! Bye, and thanks!”

You hurriedly waved to the three who were standing on the front door steps, each waving to you with their varied levels of energy. Jetting off you let what must’ve been the magic course through your veins as you mindlessly turned through the empty streets towards the castle banquet hall.

“I’m coming, Dad! Just give me time!”

_____________________________________________________

Deuce could barely stand to sway with the woman who had asked him to dance. He was too busy keeping his eyes on his father. Engaged in conversation with the prince’s guard looking especially terse as he smoothly sipped at his champagne glass.

“Hey, boy!? Are you paying attention or am I just that nice to hold?”

“S-sorry!”

He hurriedly released his hold on the woman, quickly wiping his hands against his suit before scampering into the crowd of beautiful people. Baby blue eyes searched frantically for his brother, feeling the burning weight in the pocket close to his chest. His searching proved fruitless as he lost his tact in maneuvering between the giant dresses and tailcoats.

“A-ace?”

“Hey!?”

“S-sorry!”

Breaking out of the crowd he found himself in the darker section of the garden. Away from the floating lights and mingling guests. Collapsing on a bench to clutch at his heart that was beating a mile a minute. How could he be so useless? His father was possibly having the biggest confrontation of his life and all he could do was search for his brother in hopes of intervening. He couldn’t recall when he became such a coward. Maybe it was the day he lost his new mother? Or when (Y/n) was almost abducted? Or that time Ace left him in that closet? But what did it matter? To blame any one moment distracted from the outstanding major point–that Deuce was a coward that might be losing someone soon. Two if he didn’t get up soon.

He tried to stand but was cruelly returned to his spot when he felt his body trembling. Could he take on anyone with such fragility? Without Ace’s loud presence to hide behind?

Deuce shakily inhaled and exhaled.

“What are you doin’ out here?”

The voice was gravelly and deep as if its owner had just awakened. Easing his fear with curiosity the ravenette looked to the bush across from him. The owner of the voice was yawning and stretching from out the previously neat shrubbery. Dark-skinned with cat-like eyes and unruly hair, Deuce thought he looked familiar but couldn’t place his face. Leona on the other hand, let a fanged smirk spread across his face, and recognized him right away.

“Uh, what are you doing…sleeping in a bush…at a party?”

“Probably the same reason, you’re out here crying.”

“I-i’m not crying!”

Leona chuckled, leaping out of the bush to tower over the still-sitting Deuce. With sly intention, the prince sat next to him feigning sympathy as he probed further.

“Oh? Then what are you doing? Did you just get dumped, maybe?”

He sighed, “No…I’m just getting over an…insecurity, I guess.”

“Insecurity?”

“I just…get kind of anxious and recently I’ve just been scared.”

“Scared?”

“Yeah. I think I’m just worried because my Da–father’s life is kind of in danger and I’m just not–”

Leona was mentally rolling his eyes. This guy just kept going on and on. But perhaps if he could show a little sympathy it’d help smooth things over in the future. After all, it'd be helpful to have his brother-in-law willing to speak well in his spouse’s ear.

“Well, I think you should focus on getting some security.”

“Security?”

“Yeah, whatever option certifies your status and family’s well-being no matter how small.”

“Wait what was tha–?”

Deuce’s question was interrupted by the crux of gasps from the party guests. Who all seemed to be gawking at something deep within the party hall. Deuce stood up, wasting no time to fight through the crowd; praying it wasn’t shock from someone’s untimely death. On the other hand, Leona sauntered, slinking around the crowd to watch what caught everyone’s attention.

_______________________________________________________________

In the sea of guests dressed in the earthly colors of the kingdom, you were sure you stood out. Your outfit was a macrame of blues and purples, sparkling beyond any normal amount. This is why you couldn’t fault the entire gaggle of guests guffawing at your wear and if looked under a speculative scope could be considered a direct protest of the crown. It might have been an unintentional perk but you’d take it nonetheless.

Almost immediately you spotted Mozus looking shocked with his drink in hand. Still panting from running up the steps, you strode with confidence purposely taking—whoever this man was to the prince—by surprise as you guided your father away.

“Excuse me, I must speak to my father for a moment.”

“Uh, y-yeah–I mean, yes.”

You didn’t wait for his response while you led your father away, sneakily slipping the drink out of his hand. Finally coming to terms with you being there, Mozus spoke trying to keep his composure as you started to waltz, joining the still-staring crowd as you spoke.

“(Y/n) you look–”

“Stunning? Dazzling? Remarkable? I know.”

He smiled and shook his head at you.

“But what are you doing here? I thought we agreed you’d stay home.”

He twirled you and you responded, “We did. But they sent another.”

“Another?!”

“Another.”

You two followed the steps, both of you taking a look at the non-dancing folks. The prince is among them. Sucking your teeth, you took your father’s hand dragging him off the dance floor to the table holding drinks. Pulling the vial out of your pocket you didn’t bother to hide it as you frantically dumped the vial into a glass before holding it out to him.

“I don’t have much time. You need to drink this.”

He looked at you like you were Ace–stupid. You leaned in keeping your voice low as you laid it out for him.

“I got a tip that you have been poisoned,” you put your finger up as he looked ready to argue.

“ You did drink? Didn’t you?”

His embarrassed silence told you everything you needed to know.

“Which is why you need to drink this cure and I have to leave before we’re in debt for it.”

Mozus opened his mouth and closed it, finally taking the glass from your hand. Holding it to his chest as he looked at you.

“Are you certain?”

“Of what?”

“Of this…being a cure.”

“...”

“(Y/n)--”

“Please! I don’t want to take the chance…”

He couldn’t resist the way you looked at him with those pleading (e/c) eyes, so much like the toddler he’d fallen in love with from day one. Mozus Trein would always have a strength weakness and you were one of three.

“Fine.”

He downed the champagne like a madman, going back to his stoic expression. He raised an eyebrow as you continued to stare at him as if expecting some immediate change to happen.

“Don’t you have to leave before we’re in debt?”

“Ohhh! You’re right!”

You hugged him before sprinting through the crowd, unfortunately on your way out you could already see the stuttering man and another running to catch you before you reached the door. In your dash, you took a detour using the crowd to stifle their chase, looking around for those familiar pair of troublemakers.

“Oi! I said we’re dancing, didn’t I!? LET’S GO PRINCEY!”

It was Ace dragging the scowling prince to the dance floor away from the position that would have been your doom. You silently thanked him as you spotted the night sky, about to jump down the steps you stopped because of the burly man guarding your exit.

“I apologize! But per my prince’s orders, I can not let you through!”

Before you could retaliate you were stilled by the increasing cry of Deuce flying by!

“ I AP-OL-OGIZE!”

Crashing into the man his momentum sent the both of them tumbling down the stairs. You ran behind them passing by to get to your magic motorcycle. Shouting behind you, you stuck your thumbs up.

“Thanks, Deucey!”

Instead of words, you were met with the continuous grunts and fleshy sounds of being punched. You stopped yourself from looking and instead focused on mounting your ride once more. But something wasn’t sitting right, wasn’t there another–?

“Hi, there!”

“Whoa!”

Standing right in front of you was a leaner male, smaller than the prince, and the guard smiling mischievously as he blocked your ride.

“Where are ya goin’ so fast?”

“None of your business!”

“What? Don’t you want to–”

His smile became a smirk as he raised his hand toward you. You felt like you were having an out-of-body experience where you couldn’t control any of your movements.

“Laugh With Me?!”

At that moment a flash of sparkles seems to sprout from your outfit shooting into the man’s face. He reeled back, falling to the ground and curling into himself as he clutched his nose. Recognizing the sparkle you sent a kiss to the sky before zooming off on your motorcycle.

“THANK YOU!!”

Riding off into the night you let yourself breathe. One hurdle at a time. The next one is getting home in time which should be fine. As long as the prince and his goons are occupied at the very least you’ll get home in time.

_____________________________________________________________

“Are you sure that was okay?” Epel asked as he worriedly watched you ride on the motorcycle he had spent months crafting.

Vil didn’t respond, watching with mixed feelings as he zoomed in on your determined face. Setting the mirror down he leaned into the armchair as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Technically yes. Usually, the fairy godparent should have done everything within their power to assure their success…”

Epel grimaced, “But we don’t want that, do we?”

At Vil’s silence, Epel went on grazing his fingers along your face on one of the framed photos.

“We…don’t keep them if they make it back, right? So we should want them to fail…so we shouldn’t help right?”

Vil exasperatedly sighed as he looked at the decor of the home. He scoffed lightly, threading his gloved hands through his hair as he let a defeated smile grace his face.

“But we love them so dearly, we can’t help but want the best for (Y/n). That little Minx.”

Playfully cursing at you as he watched you through the glass of his all-seeing mirror. Epel returned to his side looking over his shoulder with a look Vil couldn’t pinpoint.

“But what if–the situation with the prince, right? It’s not going to get better, right? Then maybe we can have them then?”

“In exchange for saving them from a forced marriage and protecting their family?.... That’s incredibly dubious Epel. It breaks every rule in the fairy book.”

The petite boy smiled playfully wagging his wand.

“But we’re not fairies are we?”

Vil couldn’t help but cackle laugh alongside his junior’s snickers. Before turning back to the mirror with a settled mind and a happy smile.

“Then it's settled, we'll let them return home in time. Successfully complete the payment and we collect our darling during the next tragedy. Are we all in agreement?”

With vigor, he’d never had towards Vil before he shouted, “Yeah!”

“Hold on…Where’s Rook?”

__________________________________________________________

You should have been in the clear, a straight shot home would be the end of this night. But whatever small objects whizzing by you on your ride might be telling a different story. You took the backroads surrounded by the woods to keep your pursuers off your trail. Looking in your rearview mirror, you found no lights that said otherwise, and yet why did it feel as though you were still being chased?

You didn’t want to turn off the road but when you felt the break of wind again, you heard the hissing of one of your tires. As quickly as you could you turned back to the main road, finally coming to a stop when you made it to the shopping square.

Getting up from the toppled motorbike to inspect the flat tire expecting to find some small puncture. Instead, you dug through the larger hole to pull out an arrowhead. Immediately you stood up, frantically looking around until you witnessed a flaming arrow landing on your fallen bike.

Backing away from the growing inferno you could finally see the faint outline of a shadowy pursuer. In the darkness of the night, they reeled their arm back and released after another arrow seemed to fly by you. Without another thought, you took off ducking under closed stalls and parked cars as you made your way to the only place you could think of where you could hijack a motorbike.

“Sorry, Trey!”

You quite easily rigged his motorcycle to run after locking the door of the bakery’s private parking lot. As the banging against the door intensified, it had you working fast and you couldn’t help but thank Deuce for his bad egg era. Mounting the motorcycle you waited until your assailant broke down the door, before firing away through the door and over the guy.

You didn’t bother looking for the identity of the masked individual or if they were getting up again. Continuing on your route you flashed a look at the radio clock on the motorcycle, speeding as much as you can. It was a small window but you could make it!

______________________________________________________

With minutes to spare you, crashed the motorcycle into the cobblestone of the estate’s entryway climbing your porch and quickly unlocking the door to your home. Stumbling in, you hardly noticed your disintegrating garments returning you to your comfy attire. Bent over and heaving on your knees you took a minute to compose yourself.

“...Congratulations (Y/n). Saving your step-father and returning all in one night is no easy feat.”

“Good job, (Y/n) we knew you could do it!”

Light-headed and heart still beating erratically you gave a lopsided smile to them both, puffing your chest and putting your hands on the backside of your hips.

“All…in…a day’s work. Whoo.”

Suddenly feeling a wave of tiredness come over you, letting your eyes droop and your shoulders sag. Looking down in a startling realization you could feel the light quake of your legs whether from fear or exhaustion from holding you up; you decided on one thing.

“I’m really tired.”

Vil gave a knowing smile as he stepped toward you, putting a warm hand on the middle of your back he let you lean into his touch. Holding you against himself, he let his arm curl around holding you close as he guided you up the stairs and to your room. It didn’t matter to you then that there was no hesitation before opening your door.

Laying you delicately into the mattress, his face brushing against yours raised no alarm only vaguely tickling your nerves as you welcomed the plush of your pillow. Vil was speaking to you, something important indeed but your body didn’t care. Already filling your vision with splotches of black and your eyelids filling the space; you melted into the warmth of your bed.

“--When that time comes all of you is mine.”

_____________________________________________

Waking to the muffled angry cries and pawing of a frustrated cat, was a jarring start to your morning. It didn’t help that your body ached and throbbed with the unprepared tension of the night before. With great struggle you raised your lead-heavy limbs from the bed, dragging your feet as you dressed quickly. Just a brush of your teeth, a wash to the face, and putting on your robe—far too tired to change out of your comfy clothes. When you opened your door the cat sped past your slippers; hissing at the state before rubbing himself all over the surface.

“Why are you so miffed it's not like I…had anyone over.”

When you woke you were too caught up with the pain to recall the madness of the night before. Fairy helpers. Magic clothes and a motorcycle. Antidotes to poison. Escaping royalty. A hunter with arrows. It was a timeline of an action movie all of which you didn’t have time to register before now.

“Oh gosh, Trey’s bike!”

Forgoing feeding the cat you ran down the stairs and out the door, dreading that’d you’d find the wreckage you vaguely remember. To your horror the motorbike was twisted in an odd angle, scrapes all over its details, and a concerning amount of arrows lodged into the tires.

“Trey I am so sorry.”

Already preparing for the shifts at the bakery you’d be willing to pick up or any outlandish favor he could come up with in exchange. Letting out a defeated sigh you waved a dismissive hand before heading back inside. Looking for anything out of place you took your time scanning the living room trying to spot a stray footprint or glitter coming up short.

“Hey!” You looked to the stairwell seeing an angry Ace, trailed by Deuce stomping his way down the steps.

“What d’ya think you were doing?! Trashing my room like you did and then showing up to the ball you not to go to!?”

“I didn’t trash your room. And it was an absolute emergency.”

“Well, couldn’t you have an emergency quietly?! You literally wore the craziest outfit—”

“I thought y-you looked really nice.”

“Thanks, Deuce.”

“And got the prince’s attention! The exact person we were trying to avoid!”

“I told you: it was an emergency!” “Oh yeah?! And was getting Deuce beat up worth it?”

“Sorry but yeah. And what about you Casanova you got to dance with the prince?”

“Shut. It.”

Ace continued to complain but you stopped listening looking around for the one this was all for. Pushing past those two to open the doors of Trein’s study. For a moment there was fear, that the poison was not cured or that the antidote was the opposite of what you’d hoped. That you’re dearest stepfather would not be standing there. That he’d be in the coroner’s office having his case dismissed on the Royal family’s behalf.

But he was there. Standing healthy and firm as he looked at something small nearly invisible. Having heard you come in he squashes it between his fingers turning to you with fondness.

“Judging by the bike outside you had quite the night.”

You chuckled, “I did? I don’t know about that, I wasn’t the one whose life was on the line.”

Mozus gave a look of disbelief before accepting a hug from you. You were happy the night had gone the way it did if it meant saving your dearest dad. Neither of you pulled away as Ace barged in pointing his finger as he was still attempting to berate you. Stopping when he saw neither of you pulls away.

“What is this? A fluffy party? Don’t think just cause you're hugging him doesn’t mean I’m going to get all fuzzy with you!?”

“Don’t get all pissy just because I’m getting hugs!”

“I’m not–” “Did you say hugs? I want in.”

Trein opened the hug, extending a hand to Deuce. Who eagerly pushes past his brother to accept the invitation.

“You may join us, just watch your strength. It would be problematic if you injured (Y/n).”

“Right!”

“He doesn’t want to say it but he’s scared you’ll break his broken back even more.”

“(Y/n).”

“I promise to be gentle pops!”

“I’m not made of glass.”

“...”

“Ace…”

“...Whatever. I’m only coming over because you sad saps won’t stop looking at me like that.”

In a suffocating heap, you hugged your family; relishing in the asynchronous beating of their hearts. It was comforting–their obvious signs of warmth even as they all departed on the pretext of it being too hot, brought a smile to your face.

You did it. They were safe.

The startling knocking on the door broke the moment causing all of you to snap your heads toward the source. With a pensive sigh and shake of your head, you went for the door giving a guilty face to their curious looks.

“No doubt probably Trey who's about to hound me for his bike.”

So sure you swung the door open fully expecting to see an angry green-haired baker. Only to be overcome with dread as you recognized the royal colors decorating the uniforms of the prince and his entourage.

“You’ll have to excuse us (Y/n) (L/n). We have some business with you.”

In no time at all the prince had lazily sprawled himself on an armchair and his guards on the couch, leaving Mozus to take the only other chair in the room. After closing the door on the growing crowd of onlookers you stood dutifully next to Ace and Deuce who stood on both sides of the armchair. Mozus spoke with a pensive bow.

“Your Highness it's an honor. To what do we owe the pleasure?”

The prince was still leaning comfortably in the chair, resting his boots on the coffee table in between. The scrawnier attendant spoke, who you vaguely recalled somehow attempting to stop you.

“His Highness is more than captivated by the daisy, who left the celebration all too soon.”

Their hungry eyes were all on you to which you fumbled your rebuttal.

“A-are you by chance talking about Ace?”

Deuce caught your wandering gaze, shaping his lips into an ‘o’ before joining you.

“Oh yes, I-i saw that His Highness shared a lovely dance with our precious Ace. Did you perhaps fall head over heels in love with him?”

You held in a snicker and so did the slim attendant, doing a terrible job silencing his amusement behind his hands. The prince seemed to growl as he sent a glare in Deuce’s direction who immediately shrunk back in some sort of reprimand. As if intending to break the tension the burly attendant spoke, who you now recalled was the one Deuce tackled for your sake.

“Who we are referring to is (Y/n) (L/n) and as you’ve deduced His Highness is formally asking for your hand.”

A strong silence fell over your family. A collective horror gripping your hearts.

“What if…I planned to refuse?”

Deuce and Ace released a gasp and Mozus turned to look at you, heart aching at the sweat that beaded your brow. The attendants sent a look toward one another before looking to the Prince who sat unbothered, before laughing out loud. It was a scornful laugh. A laugh that made your cheeks burn with stupidity. As if what you had proposed was so outlandish that you might as well paint your face, wear bells on your head, and become a jester.

His laughing stopped as he brought his feet off the table; placing his elbows on his knees and carding his fingers to rest along his chin. Emerald eyes narrowed and challenging he spoke with a rumbling authority.

“Do you think it's a good idea to refuse me? I know you’re not stupid (Y/n). Would you rather be married without any family, prospects, or a clean record? Or would you rather come happily into the royal family without our behest?”

“But you're still threatening me–”

“And? I’m being nice with all the running you’ve been doing from me. I love a good chase but I’m about tired of pushing past these obstacles. And I’m about to knock them down. Permanently.”

The message was clear.

Your family’s protective streak for you was being tested. And so was your own will. More than anything you would have loved to hide behind your father and brothers. But that would be folly against someone who truly had no problem getting rid of your family. It wouldn’t do much to refuse…even if it killed you to lose your freedom to this.

Mozus stood up, angrily gripping the armrests of his chair as he dangerously turned red. Ace and Deuce mirrored his actions more than ready to be thrown into action. So were the attendants who seemed to be waiting for the chance to spring into action.

You have to diffuse this.

You need time to think.

“Dad… it's okay…please.”

With a hand on his shoulder, you guided him back into his seat before turning to the smirking prince.

“I…will…need a minute.”

You didn’t wait for him to answer dashing past Deuce and Ace as you ran into the nearby room: the study. Having half a mind not to cry you began to pace. What could you do? What could be done? The cards have been set and you had the losing hand. All you could do was to give in. And after all, you’d gone through? For the hero you were before, it would all mean nothing.

Even with the force of magic that you’re family had, you couldn’t expect novices and one senior to protect against an army. No. If it was magic you’d need something stronger. Something that has proven to give results. To be a definite victory for you and your family. Kind of like…your fairy helpers.

“I had a feeling you’d need me.”

You turned to see Vil in all his radiant, glittery glory smiling as pridefully as he did before. You ran up to him with a conviction and helpless plea, fully prepared to beg on your knees if you had to.

“Vil…the prince he– he said if I didn’t marry him willingly he’d hurt them–but I really don’t want to sign my life away to that horrible brainless—Do you have anything that can help me?! Or just some way where I can guarantee that my family will be safe?”

A warm hand rubbed against your back and the smell of cedar filled your nose. It reminded you of that one fellow…

“Ohhh~ pauvre biche, Vil we must offer our help!”

There was something about the way he said it. The sing-songy tone that was typical for him had a hint of mocking nature. But surely that was out of understanding perhaps it was something of a minor problem for fairies such as them or that it was all an act in the first place.

“Yeah, Vil, (Y/n)’s our friend we’ve got to help them.”

Epel was on your other side letting his shoulder touch yours in a form of support as he looked to Vil. Seemingly convinced Vil pulls a vile from his pocket. The solution glows a sparkling purple that flashes gradients of green. It was alluring to simply glance at.

“Alright then (Y/n) I have a proposal for you: you drink this and your family will be safe from any others who may wish to harm them,” You opened your mouth to agree, stopping when a gloved finger pushes against your lips.

Vil continues, “But you must agree to accept the journey that comes with it. “

Your eyebrow rose with a question on your tongue only to be stopped by more fingers on your lips.

“I can’t elaborate on that further. All I can say is that we’d be with you the whole way and no one. No one will ever threaten you again.”

It was your choice.

“To concede or thrive? Mon filou, what will you choose?”

“You’ll make the right choice (Y/n)~! I’m sure of it.”

You held your gaze on the swirling solution in the vile.

It was up to you.

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allamericansbitch · 1 month

Text

my review of ttpd is under the cut

i liken this album to digging through the cushions of a couch. sometimes you find money, sometimes mindless scraps, and sometimes it's weird shit you have no idea why it's there.

first things first i'll just reiterate what i've seen a lot of people saying: she needs to move on from jack and work with new producers. the production is so recycled, we've heard it before, it's no longer serving her art (and i would argue it's limiting it) and it's tired. the first half is midnights and 1989 vault tracks and i would like a new album to sound like a new album.

but you know who came in and saved the day, my man my man my man aaron with those real instruments and decent mixing/production skills that actually work with taylor's voice!

like i said before, i like a good chunk of this album, so what i'm about to say might come off strong but trust me. i feel like this whole album is very.... unnecessary. it's very repetitive, she's reusing so many metaphors, sayings, etc just song to song and then also repetitive production like i already touched on. her current mindset of creating art as frequently as possible, quantity over quality, is just becoming more and more hard to ignore. of course she can still write and work through her feelings but you don't need to release it. you can work through it and move on. the best songs on here have authority, know what they wanna say and tell a good story. the worst are just sitting there roaming around aimlessly and not saying anything new or anything at all really. there is a really interesting, good album in here... somewhere. move the cushions around a bit more.

here's some random/general bullet points:

the best songs for me are the ones with a clear message and simple production. she's not trying to sound smart with the lyrics and just making the song clunky and try-hard. so long london and loml?? clara bow? yeah yeah

speaking of the lyrics....... my god are they rough. she saw people saying midnights had some corny lines and said charlie puth hold my beer. this album genuinely has some of her worst, which is sad because we know what she's capable of.

none of the music matches the aesthetic but sadly that's become par for the course, but now the title of the album doesn't even fit for me. i feel like, if she wanted to name it after a song title, 'the alchemy' or 'i can do it with a broken heart' are right there. this isnt giving tortured poet.

all of this to say she needs to get new collaborators, stop surrounding herself with yes men, and learn to trim the fat and we'll be in a lot better shape.

#tp

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bangtanintotheroom · 1 year

Text

Spin You Like a Hit Record (M)

She seh she want come round a mi yard

Mi seh gyal turn round mek mi fuck you hard

Mek mi spin you like a hit record

Mi spin you like a hit record

• Pairing: Clubgoer!Bangchan x Clubgoer!(F)Reader

• Genre: Non-Idol!AU, Smut, One Night Stand (?), Strangers to Lovers

• Rating: 18+

• Words: 12.1k

• Summary: No one who’s ever stepped into this club can match your moves. No one dared to challenge you until a man with cheesy pick up lines and bulging muscles did. There’s no way this guy could impress you, right?

• Warnings/themes: swearing, dirty dancing, grinding, clubbing, Chan being a sexy dork, flirting, drinking, Y/N getting a bit angry, Felix being a cockblock and a chaotic roommate 💀, making out, all the teasing, dirty talk, breast play, praise, fingering, oral (f. and m. receiving), face-sitting, 69, hitting it from the back, a teensy tiny hint of dom!Chan, protected sex, mentions of drooling, mentions of exhibitionism, the morning after

• Playlist: 🎧

• Song Inspo: Come Roun - Mavado (Spotify | Soundcloud)

• Notes: IT’S FINALLY HEEEEEERE 🗣️ I did not think it’d take this long, that Chan brainrot is no joke lol A big fuck thank you to @minisugakoobies @minttangerines and @sugalaritae for pushing Mr. Bang Christopher Chan onto me in our group chat. It’s my first time writing a non-BTS fic since I started this blog, but I hope you guys will enjoy this regardless! 💕 and kisses for my sexy stack of pancakes Griddle who beta’d this for me on short notice!

• Taglist: @jimilter @joontied @minisugakoobies @minttangerines @sugalaritae @crisle19 @codeinebelle @kookprada @saweetspoiled @effielumiere @m1sss1mp @amaranth-writing @dvalitaes

This was your favorite environment.

The one place where you could let loose and not give a flying fuck about what anyone else in the room would think. Then again, the usual mindset of every other person in this area was either one of the two categories; how can I dance like her or how can I dance with her. It brought you confidence that could remain for the rest of the night.

The club was a decent-sized place that was always so packed that it had the potential to become a fire hazard. Monday, Thursday, Saturday; it didn’t matter what day it was, people were there ready to dance and drink their hearts out.

The music was what really brought everyone in. A mix of R&B and hip hop, both old and new, inspiring club-goers to gyrate and belt out the lyrics into the neon air. But there was a specific genre that piqued your interest from the moment you first stepped into this establishment. Hearing the bouncy rhythm and background instruments originating from various Caribbean islands took over your soul (you couldn’t think of a less dramatic way to explain it). If you were feeling less-than-stellar when you entered the building, the music was quick to fix that. Knowing that over time, you would become one with the beats, gyrating to your heart’s content.

Nothing could kill your vibe.

Well, except for when strangers tried to creep into your personal bubble.

Now, you didn’t mind someone coming up to dance with you in the beginning. It took two to tango and it could be fun having another person to enjoy the music with. But it became clear after some time that not many of them could match your moves.

They were too slow.

They were off-beat.

They were too erratic in their moves.

Your patience dwindled with these people, which led to you turning them down the second you sensed trouble. Some backed off with little issue, finding another club dweller to put their moves on instead. Some didn’t like to take no for an answer and led to passive-aggressive jabs at your dancing before storming away.

Whatever.

Not your problem.

You had been here for over an hour now. About six people had approached you, varying energies, but with the same disappointing results. The last one was particularly grating, constantly trying to guide you to their awful rhythm. They must have missed your ass about three times before you gave them the typical look of disappointment. But they insisted on trying over and over until you had to take their hands off you and tell them to leave you alone. The look in their eyes screamed that they wanted to call you some name, but they chose wisely to walk away instead.

Good, you didn’t feel like cussing someone out tonight.

Now that you were free from lackluster dancers, your throat was getting parched. It was time to re-hydrate, especially before the fire songs came on.

You made a beeline over to the crowded bar, nabbing an empty spot as soon as it opened. You rested your arms on the sticky countertop, tapping your pointed nails as you waited for one of the bartenders to acknowledge you. While you were watching a particularly flamboyant and agile bartender toss and flip his shaker, you heard a voice call from your side.

“Hey, how you doin’?”

Oh jeez.

Your immediate reaction was to give whoever spoke a fake and dismissive smile, but something about the way they sounded intrigued you. Was that an accent? It was hard to tell with the volume of the music.

Taking a chance, you turned your head to the right.

Ooh. Okay then. Hottie in your vicinity.

Decent height. Short black hair. Very handsome with a unique nose and full lips.

A very real smile automatically took over your glossy lips.

“Hey. Couldn’t be any better.”

The good-looking stranger shot you a megawatt grin, complete with dimples and everything.

“That’s good. You looked like you were having fun out there.”

Your torso turned towards him a little more.

“You were watching me?”

“Kind of hard not to.”

This type of exchange had become familiar to you lately. Someone walked up and tried to hit on you by complimenting your dancing skills. Depending on the person, it had a 50/50 chance of working. But hearing this guy do it in his (what you quickly identified as) Aussie accent upped the probability.

Would he get any farther than this, though?

“Oh?”

“Yup. Made me think you might live here with the way you were moving to those songs.”

A giggle escaped you, to your surprise.

“What can I say? I’m one with the music.”

The man next to you repeated your laugh, eyes squinting in delight.

“Oh, I believe it. Oops, where’s my manners?”

He held a hand out towards you, causing your eyes to travel up his muscular arm in intrigue. Whoa. Look at those biceps. Bless this man for wearing a sleeveless shirt tonight.

“I’m Chan.”

Right. Pay attention, Y/N. Take his hand and speak!

“Y/N. Nice to meet you, Chan.”

The mystery hottie named Chan gave you a handshake with enough pressure to wonder if he was holding back. With the muscle he was packing, surely he was hiding his strength.

“Likewise! You mind if I buy you a drink?”

You shrugged, lips quirked upwards.

“If you’re offering, sure.”

Chan grinned, taking your drink order before continuing to have a mild conversation with you. It seemed like it was going to take a while before the two of you were acknowledged. You didn’t mind, finding him to be pleasant to speak to. From his appearance alone, you assumed that he would be one of those cocky muscleheads who did the bare minimum when it came to chatting up women.

Oh, did he prove you wrong.

He was actually rather sweet in the way he spoke to you, asking if your night was going well so far. The man was particularly tickled in your retelling of some of the disastrous events from the dancefloor, letting out giggles that made him even more endearing in your eyes. You almost didn’t want the drinks to come; that’s how much you were enjoying his presence.

But after the first and even second drink, you were still talking to Chan, the both of you sitting on stools now.

This was odd. Your main goal was usually to come and dance up a storm at this club, not chat with a complete stranger. It was like Chan was a magnet. Pulling you in and keeping you by his side unless some opposing force came in and tugged you away.

You spoke too soon, it seemed. For the DJ made a familiar announcement that had your ears perking up.

“Alright y’all, I’m lovin’ this crowd tonight, the energy is beautiful up in here! But now I wanna turn it up a notch. In a few minutes, you’ll see what I mean!”

Damn. Your favorite part of the night was coming up.

How could you cut this interaction short, though? You weren’t quite ready to stop talking to Chan…

But…

You let out a sigh when his head was turned, not wanting him to think you were tired of his presence. Far from it.

“Hey Chan?”

He looked back at you, raising a dark brow.

“What’s up?”

“I hate to break up our little chat, but I’d like to get back to the floor.”

Chan seemed to be averse to your departure, full lips pouting in disappointment. Cute.

“That’s a shame, I was enjoying your company.”

You gave an apologetic smile, not really wanting to split yet either.

“The feeling’s mutual, trust me. But the DJ’s about to play some fire music and I don’t really want to miss it.”

He now raised his other brow in intrigue.

“Better than what’s already been playing?”

“Mhm! I mean, it’s not everyone’s cup of tea, but I like it.”

Just as Chan was about to speak again, you heard a familiar tune float out of the speakers, your head whipping towards the dancefloor. A chorus of cheers and hollers erupted from the crowd, a few people running from their seats to join the wave of grinding bodies. Your fingers twitched around your glass.

You were dying to be out there.

And then you looked back at your companion.

But something was telling you leaving this man would be a mistake.

If he was really interested, maybe he wouldn’t mind waiting for you to finish your dance. And if he was the impatient kind, then tough shit.

“Chan—”

“Is this what you were waiting for?”

The interruption made you blink, nodding as you watched an inquisitive expression take over his handsome face. After a moment, he smirked.

“Dancehall, huh? Great taste.”

He appreciated this kind of music too? What else were you going to add onto the one-sided list of pros and cons?

“Thanks. I didn’t picture you as the type to know about this.”

Chan’s dark eyes widened, looking taken aback.

“Of course I do! I listen to almost anything. But this stuff right here, this is no joke. I don’t blame you for wanting to go.”

You couldn’t hold back a grin, no matter how hard you tried. Why couldn’t there be more people like him? You definitely had to catch up after you were finished.

Just as you were about to express your gratitude, Chan cocked his head and spoke, “Actually…”

The expectant look he gave was outright charming.

“Do you mind if I join?”

Uh oh.

Here we go. Damn, and it was all going so well too.

Not that you didn’t want to get the chance to grind up on this attractive man, but if he messed up out there, it just might change your overwhelmingly positive opinion on him.

You’d have to turn him down. It sucked, but it was for his own good.

Alright, just remember how this went the last time someone dared to ask you to dance.

Lowering your lids, you rested an elbow on the counter, clasping your hands together while your mouth flattened into a humorless line.

“You can’t keep up with me.”

This man wasn’t fazed by your dismissal. If anything, he seemed to enjoy the challenge, reflecting your position before a tongue came out to run over his straight teeth.

“Don’t count me out yet, baby.”

Your cold front cracked a mite at the nickname and the way Chan seemed so confident in himself. Was it real? Or was he just bullshitting until he got onto the floor with you and made a fool of himself?

The drinks you had must have been extra strong tonight as you found your resolve wavering faster than usual.

Well, only one way to answer your questions.

“Fine.”

Straightening up, you brushed some loose hairs out of your face before lifting your chin up a bit. You held a hand out towards your challenger.

“Let’s see if you can back up that mouth.”

You would think Chan had won the lottery with the dazzling grin he gave. He wasted no time in taking your palm in his, warm and heavy and leaving you wondering what it could be capable of. There was time for that later, if he played his cards right.

Now you were leading him onto the dancefloor, bobbing and weaving through the gyrating club-goers. You glanced back to see if there was any hesitation on his face as you pulled him into the middle.

Nothing.

If anything, he seemed even more excited.

Interesting.

Once you found a spot large enough for the two of you, you turned to face him, raising a brow.

“Last chance.”

Chan chuckled, shaking his head at your warning.

“Ready whenever you are.”

Lips quirking, you took a head start, quickly identifying what point of the song was playing right now. Your body began responding to the beats, hips popping side to side as you kept your eyes locked with his own. He was quick to follow you in succession, starting off with simple two-steps, albeit with a little more flourish than the other dancers.

You noticed how easily Chan seemed to catch the tempo on his own. His eyes never straying from yours to watch your movements in hopes to imitate them.

So far, so good.

But this was only the beginning.

Deciding to go up a level, you stepped closer to him. Leaving only a few inches between your bodies, you allowed your hips to come so close to brushing against his. Watching his face to see if he would flinch or back down, your curiosity was intrigued when he did neither.

In fact, Chan closed the gap before placing those strong hands of his on your waist. The touch made a jolt go up your spine, intensified by the smirk he shot down at you next.

“This alright?”

Either it was the music or the distraction from his warm palms that almost had you missing what he said.

“Yeah.”

From then on, you both remained silent, letting your bodies do the talking.

Your dance partner matched your moves with little second-guessing, even taking the lead at times. After a certain point, Chan took one of your hands to spin you around a few times, a laugh escaping your lips at the gesture. The sound stopped when you felt him pull your back flush against his front, gut twisting at the heat and firmness of his body. You almost missed your next step, but you were quick to collect yourself.

This gesture was a lot more intimate than before, the atmosphere taking a slight turn into something a bit sultry. It didn’t help that the man behind you took to resting his head next to yours, lowering the percentage of your body that wasn’t pressed against his. You could feel his breath occasionally washing over your cheek.

“Tired of me yet?”

Is he for real?

“Not at all. I’m liking what I’m seeing so far.”

Chan chuckled, lips vibrating against your ear. “Good.”

The two of you continued your dancing, the next couple of songs passing by swiftly. You were happy to see that he wasn’t full of shit when it came to his skills. You even challenged him by throwing a sudden move in at random moments, wanting to catch him off-guard. But he was quick on the draw, following any dips or grinds with ease.

The chance that you would spend more time with Chan later was growing by the second.

But then the DJ started transitioning into a tune that you knew all too well. You couldn’t help but wonder whether your companion could handle this kind of song or if it’d be a little too far out of his league.

“Oh shit! Haven’t heard this one in a while.”

What?

Chan couldn’t see your brows raising until you turned your head, surprised by the eager expression on his handsome face.

“This song?”

“Yup.” He cocked his head at the disbelief in your eyes. “What?”

“Sure you can handle this?”

Just like before, there was no caution to your question, his lips twisting into a secure smirk.

“Wait and see.”

You hoped he didn’t feel the tremble that ran through your body just now. Something about the sheer confidence of this man got to you with little effort.

Not wanting to keep him waiting, you faced forward once again, hips starting to roll to the familiar rhythm. You were slower and more deliberate in your movements this time, trying to take the lead. Chan seemed to have other plans, though, tightening his hold on you before pulling you back just as he was grinding forward.

Whoa.

There wasn’t an ounce of modesty in that move just now. Alright, don’t back down, Y/N.

You raised your arms in the air, starting to lower your body down. Chan followed suit until the two of you were nearly squatting, giving you a little more leverage to work with. You weren’t shy in winding your hips back, the fabrics of your pants providing friction every time the two of you made contact. A part of you was hoping he’d slip up a bit, just to know you were having an effect on him. It wouldn’t influence your currently high opinion of him at all.

But if he was getting worked up, it wasn’t showing in the way he closed whatever gap was between and grinded from the bottom of your ass all the way to the top.

Oh no.

Godammit, you could feel whatever he was hiding in those pants of his rubbing against every inch of your bottom. And now your stimulated brain was running with scenarios of just what could be in his pants.

You swallowed hard.

Were you actually getting turned on from dancing alone? This was a first.

Okay, focus.

Push back, Y/N, push back.

It didn’t do much, of course. Especially since he practically jerked his hips forward all of a sudden. If it wasn’t for his hands, you would’ve stumbled in shock.

Thank God he couldn’t see the flustered expression on your face right now.

“Mind if I try something, baby?”

Oh? Something else up his sleeve…well, lack of sleeve.

You shook your head, only to have Chan maneuver your body so you were bent over at the waist, much to your surprise.

What he did next almost had you keeling over in a stupor.

The man behind you took a firm hold of your hips before grinding against you with everything he had in his well-muscled body.

Oh. Shit. Fucking shit.

You know, maybe you shouldn’t have assumed Chan wouldn’t be up to par. Because if it wasn’t for your clothes, this man would be straight-up fucking you on the dancefloor right now.

No no no. This could not continue, not unless he wanted you to pounce on him in the middle of this crowd.

You had to take the reins and let him know that you weren’t backing down.

Straightening your body up, you took his hands and pulled them away before spinning around to face him.

Okay, this was your last resort. Surely he wouldn’t be able to handle this move.

Tickled at the confused expression on Chan’s handsome face, you went and hooked your leg around his waist, giving back just as much force as he did when he rolled from behind. Judging by the way he bit his lip, you must have caught him off-guard.

Alas, your victory lap was cut short when those same lips twisted into a wicked smirk. You realized how screwed you were when he took a firm hold of your waist and repeated the motion from earlier. This was a huge mistake!

There was no cushioning to protect you from the sensation of his clothed crotch grinding against yours.

Goddamn. You were wrong yet again.

Feeling Chan rub against you over and over again started a familiar heat between your legs that increased with each grind. You were quickly losing control over your body, having to grab onto his firm shoulders to steady yourself. Your eyes remained steady on his own, though, even if you wanted to close them while pleasure slowly crept up your spine.

You were looking for some sign on your dance partner’s face that he was being affected as well. Something. But there wasn’t much to work with. His smile was no longer present, but the rest of his expression remained impassive. Maybe he just had a really good poker face?

You managed to hold back on making any obscene sounds until a roll at a certain angle brushed right where your clit was. Oh fuck. Did you just moan out loud? At least the music covered it up…hopefully.

Just when you felt like you were about to pin this man and ride him like a prize horse, the song ended, music returning back into its usual genre. The bubble of lust around you and Chan burst with the shift. But the air still felt heavy. Especially with the way the two of you would just not stop staring at each other.

There was no way this would be the end of your interaction with the handsome stranger tonight.

Absolutely not.

You were pleased to see that you weren’t the only one who had broken a sweat, the edge of Chan’s hairline shining and dotted with light perspiration.

“How was that?”

What? That’s all he had to say? After the way he spun, writhed and bent you over, that’s what came out of his mouth?!

Alright. He wanted an answer? You would give him one.

With your eyes narrowing for a moment, you made a grab for his hand before beginning to drag him through the dancing bodies. You narrowly avoided having your foot stepped on until the two of you hit an open area. Spotting the hallway leading to the bathrooms, you kept pulling on Chan until you were deep enough to not be interrupted.

You swiftly turned around to have your back facing the wall. Chan’s mouth opened in what was sure to be a question until you grabbed his shoulders and tugged him down to attach your lips to his.

There was his damn answer.

He seemed to like it as you felt a groan rumble against you before those strong hands of his made a grab for your hips once more. You felt him tug until they were pressed to his.

Oh. Now you could tell that the grinding had some kind of effect on him.

Chan didn’t give you reprieve, snaking his tongue out to pry your mouth open. He was on a mission as he landed on your own appendage, tangling with controlled movements that had you feeling weaker than before. Between that and the nips to your lower lip he’d give occasionally, you would forget just where you guys were.

In a nightclub across the hall from restrooms with semi-questionable hygiene. Probably had a few drunks tossing their cookies in there too.

The more you thought about it, the more you realized that this wasn’t an ideal spot. You wanted to get a taste of whether Chan’s moves were only designated to the dancefloor or not.

When he broke off to begin planting kisses on your neck, you mustered up the strength to air your intentions.

“I wanna get out of here.”

Another kiss. “With me?”

“No, by myself— Ah—”

The nibble underneath your jaw made your words catch, much to Chan’s humor, judging by his tone as he teased, “Aw, I thought we were having such a good time together, baby.”

Clicking your tongue, you reached up to give an earlobe a light tug. “Stop that.”

“Stop what?”

“Pissing me off.”

An unexpected giggle came out before he whispered in your ear, “But you’re so hot when you’re mad.”

This man.

“You’re gonna see me real mad if we don’t leave this damn club.”

Another laugh came from Chan as pulled his head back to look at you.

“Fine, fine. Where are we going?”

“Your place, my place, a hotel, I don’t fucking care.”

You probably sounded whiny, but at least he seemed to share the sentiment as he stepped back.

“Well, lucky for you, my place is a few blocks away. C’mon.”

He held a hand out that you immediately took, allowing Chan to escort you through the club and to the front doors, ready to continue the night away from wandering eyes.

Chan wasn’t joking when he said he only lived a few blocks down, but it felt like longer to you, thanks to how fucking horny you were.

It was so bad that you almost tugged him down an alleyway whenever the two of you had to wait at an intersection to cross. But oddly, having his thumb occasionally rub the back of your hand would ground you a bit. Well, that and the charming smile he’d shoot down.

It was almost like he could tell how restless you were.

Finally, he led you into an apartment building and straight to the elevator, the ride going up a few floors before you both got off.

Chan pulled a set of keys out of his pocket as the two of you headed down the hall to a door with a welcome mat that had a picture of a cat on it. The sight was unexpected and brought a tiny giggle out of you.

“It’s not mine, my roommate picked it out.”

“Chan, you don’t have to lie. I think it’s cute!”

He paused in unlocking the door to shoot a pout.

“I’m not!”

“Uh huh.”

Realizing he wasn’t going to change your mind, he rolled his eyes and got the door open, motioning you to step in first before locking it behind him. As soon as the two of you took your shoes off, he reached for your hand once again and began walking.

Guess you weren’t going to get a good look at his apartment right now.

Chan guided you down a hallway before stopping in front of one of the doors, presumably his bedroom. He grabbed the doorknob and turned it to push the door open, only for the smile on his face to drop.

You couldn’t see what the problem was until you peeked around his body, spotting a desk setup with a sizable computer monitor against one of the walls. And in the chair in front of it was a person, clearly immersed in the game they were playing.

“Get out, Felix.”

Chan’s concealed irritation caught the attention of the man named Felix, swiveling his chair around to shoot a bothered look. His appearance was the polar opposite of his roommate’s, slender with softer facial features and blond hair that draped over the back of his neck. In your eyes, he was, dare you say, quite a pretty man.

“But I’m almost done with this level, bro!”

Oh wow. Didn’t expect that voice to come out of that face.

Your lover for the night growled under his breath before addressing him once again with a little more attitude.

“Mate, get out of here! You’ve been in that chair since I left hours ago, go do something productive, for Chrissakes!”

Felix’s eyes narrowed at Chan, tsking before turning back around, clicking the mouse and keyboard harder than necessary. In a minute, the bright colors on the screen disappeared, leaving nothing but a basic desktop wallpaper illuminating the room. The leaner man pushed the chair back and stood up before heading towards the two of you.

“Asshole. This is me being productive.”

Clearly Chan wasn’t having it, dark eyes still boring a hole in the other as he gently moved both of your bodies aside so Felix could leave the room. But just before he hit the threshold, he stopped in his tracks, looking you up and down with thinly-veiled curiosity.

“Aren’t you at least going to introduce me to your new friend?”

Chan seemed ready to tell him off, yet reined it in at the last second, his broad shoulders lifting and lowering as he sighed with exasperation. He held out a free hand to gesture between you and Felix.

“Felix, Y/N. Y/N, Felix.”

The both of you waved to each other, Felix’s pretty face stretching into a cheeky smile.

“Hey Y/N. Hopefully Chan doesn’t drool on you while he’s on top.”

This seemed to be the last straw for the muscled man, letting out some colorful words before letting go of your hand. He placed both of his on Felix’s shoulders, turning him towards the hallway in order to push him out with more force than necessary. This didn’t seem to bother the other man, laughing at both of your reactions.

Just as Chan was grabbing the door, Felix seemed to have one last thing to say.

“Oh, and the back of his neck is his weak spot!”

Your brows lifted in intrigue just as the door was slammed in the other’s face, watching as the lock was turned with a loud click. You heard Chan mumbling under his breath, only able to hear the words ‘dick’ and ‘cunt’ and something about the electric bill, lips twitching in amusement until he turned towards you with a sigh. A hand came up to rub the back of his neck.

“’M sorry about that. My roommate can be a real pain in the ass sometimes.”

You giggled, stepping close to take said hand in yours, giving it a light squeeze.“No worries. Not the worst situation I’ve walked into.”

That adorable smile of his made a comeback, thanks to your reassurance.

“Good. Oh, and whatever he said was bullshit.”

Your head cocked to the side as you played with his fingers.

“What was?”

Chan huffed lightly at how you were playing games, placing his free hand on your hip to pull you flush against his firm body.

“How I drool.”

You looked off to the side, pretending to recollect what Felix had said before looking up at him once again.

“Oh yeah? Because I was more curious about the other thing he mentioned.”

You felt the hold on your hip move slowly towards your ass before cupping it.

“The neck thing?”

“Yes.”

Chan’s lips peeled back, flashing straight teeth. “You’ll have to find out for yourself.”

Your smile matched his to a T, taking your other hand to wrap around the back of his neck and pull him into a kiss. It had been too long since his luscious lips were on yours.

The two of you picked up on where you had left off at the club, with less concern about who would see what was going on. It was just you and Chan in this lamp-lit room, tongues and teeth working .

Just when you were ready to take things up a notch, you felt his grip on both sides of your hips before he began guiding you to walk backwards. Your legs automatically moved in response, only stopping when he tightened his hold.

Chan broke the kiss, allowing you to realize that you were at the foot of his bed now. He didn’t give you time to think more on it, reaching for the hem of your top. With a quick glance at your face, he waited for your nod before starting to work the garment up and off. There was a bit of fumbling towards the end, thanks to the multiple straps, but he managed to divulge you of it.

The swear that left him at the sight of your bare breasts made your lips tilt and your ego stroked. You let him admire you for a little longer until the urge to see what was hiding under his shirt became too strong to delay.

Your hands reached for it, thankful that he lifted his arms up the second your fingers brushed the fabric. You removed it faster than your own top, eyes trained on every inch of skin that was revealed. Within no time, you were granted a full view of his exposed torso, jaw dropping at the sight.

“Oh shit…”

You had figured Chan was well-muscled, thanks to his exposed arms and the way he felt against your softer body, but this was insane.

A chiseled chest that rose and fell with heavy breaths. Rippling abs that tightened with each inhale. Just…straight-up muscle. How often did he go to the gym to be blessed with a body like this?

“Y/N.”

Chan’s amused voice cut into your foggy thoughts, making you blink in shock. Oops. Did you space out?

You heard a chuckle before a hand came up to carefully hold your chin, tipping your head back up, making sure your eyes were on his own and not his figure. Chan didn’t seem offended at all; if anything, the twinkle in his dark eyes expressed flattery.

“I don’t mind you staring, but I’d really like to get my hands on you now, babygirl.”

Oh. Well, you couldn’t say no to that at all.

You gave an eager nod, receiving one of his adorable giggles before his lips captured yours again. While you were occupied, you felt him begin to work on your pants, undoing them enough to be able to slide them down. The kiss broke once the waistband went over the curve of your ass, Chan crouching down to bring your bottoms down to your ankles.

Good thing you picked one of your best-looking (albeit somewhat uncomfortable) pairs of panties today; he was getting an eyeful at the moment.

“What the fuck, you’re so hot—”

If you weren’t careful, you were going to leave this place with a big head with the way he was throwing praise your way. Despite the way your cheeks were flaming, you played it cool, reaching down to tip Chan’s chin up now, directing his admiring gaze up to your face.

“You already got me in your room, no need to lay it on thick.”

Chan’s eyes creased in the corners as he grinned, another giggle escaping from his dimpled smile.

“Sorry. My mouth tends to beat my brain sometimes.”

How this man could go from confident to adorable in a split second was a mystery to you.

But you could try and solve it later; right now, you needed him back up here.

“It’s alright, baby—”

You motioned him to stand up, wrapping your arms around his taut waist before pressing your bare breasts against his torso.

“Never said I didn’t like compliments.”

Chan huffed in enjoyment, laying his hands on your hips.

“Good to know.”

A giggle escaped before he swooped down to cover your mouth with his own, making quick work of prying your lips apart with his tongue. You opened up with little resistance, but it widened when you felt a firm grip on your ass out of nowhere. The way Chan kneaded it had you melting into his touch, forgetting about any other part of your body that wasn’t squished against his right now.

Which was why you were surprised to find yourself falling backwards all of a sudden, body bouncing on top of his bed.

Chan chuckled at the bewilderment on your face before crawling on top of you, lust-filled eyes traveling over your sprawled figure.

“I almost didn’t approach you, y’know.”

The confession caught you off-guard, causing your brows to furrow.

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

The man above you leaned in to begin pressing kisses over your jawline and neck, throwing in nips in between that made your breath hitch.

“I saw how you kept turning down all those poor bastards. Kept wondering if I should even bother taking a chance.”

A dig of Chan’s teeth into a hot spot right under your ear had you gasping, followed by a soft moan as he soothed the bite with his tongue.

“But you went ahead and did.”

A puff of air against your neck as he chuckled.

“Only after I had a drink.”

You matched his laugh, deciding to rest your idle hands on his back, savoring the expanse of muscle underneath.

“Nothing wrong with liquid courage. I’m glad you came over.”

Chan lifted his head after pressing his lips to your collarbone, eyes sparked with wonder.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.”

You felt a light tremble run through him when your nails dragged over his skin.

“You definitely proved yourself tonight. That was the most fun I’ve had in that club in ages.”

Thanks to the lamp, you could see the tips of Chan’s ears flushing, his cheeks lifting in bashfulness. To go from devouring your neck to flustering at your words in such a short span of time…what duality.

“Glad to hear it. Besides—”

Your hips jolted when you felt his own press down, the unmistakable feel of his erection making itself known.

“The fun’s only beginning, no?”

Shy Chan has officially left the building. Especially with the groan he gave when you rolled up into him.

“Yes, it is.”

Leaning up to grab more kisses, you were only granted the indulgence for a short while before he broke away. Motioning you to lay back again, he was quick to replace his mouth on your skin, traveling down until he reached your breasts. Chan gave attention to the sensitive area, alternating between feathery licks and thorough sucks.

You were eager to let him know how well he was doing with back arches and moans, nails still tracing patterns on his warm skin. Although the patterns were broken whenever a tug or scrape of his teeth occurred.

“Chan—”

A grunt vibrated against your nipple before he pulled off to rasp, “I’m trying to be patient here, baby, but you’re making it hard for me.”

You huffed and looked down to see an impatient expression aimed up at you.

“How do you think I feel? I was so close to doing you in that club.”

Chan’s eyes lidded at your reveal, tongue running over his swollen lips.

“Well, I could’ve fucked you in the middle of that dance floor.”

A shiver ran through your body. Just the thought of him possibly doing such a crude act had your pussy throbbing harder than before.

“Oh yeah?”

“Mhm. Anyone tried to stop me, I would’ve decked the cunt.”

Fuck, why did that sound so hot?

He didn’t allow you to think on it any longer as he continued to trail kisses down your body, skimming over your stomach until he reached the top of your panties. His hands were quick to come up and lay on both of your inner thighs, pushing them further apart to improve his view of what laid between them.

With the way he was staring, you would have thought he was trying to see through the damn underwear itself.

Just as you were about to interject with something witty, Chan chose to make a move and latch his lips where your clit was, ripping a gasp out of you.

“Ah!”

The sudden shock melted into tingles of pleasure as he began with light sucks, sometimes pausing to lap his tongue over the damp fabric instead.

“Fuck, Chan…”

“Like that, baby?”

You huffed, “No, it’s not enough.”

An inquisitive hum sounded from below, Chan’s mouth pausing its actions (much to your dismay).

“Is that so?”

This guy.

“You know so. Just take them off.”

All you received was a giggle and a shake of the head. “Not yet.”

You groaned his name in annoyance, making him laugh harder, teeth on full display.

“You’re cute when you’re mad, you know that?”

To think you would get so flustered by him. It even made you giggle. “Thank you, but—”

You reached down and tapped his forehead.

“I’m starting to think you’re forcing yourself to do this.”

Chan gave you a look of mock offense.

“Of course not!”

“Uh huh. Sure.”

He rolled his eyes, hooking his finger under the elastic before letting it snap. “I’m serious, Y/N. This is me holding back right now.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah—”

Chan brushed his lips against your clothed center and husked, “I’d do anything to taste this pussy of yours.”

A shiver traveled through you at his words.

“Anything?”

He kissed you again. “Mhm.”

A certain thought bloomed in your mind from the conversation. You might be pushing it by saying it out loud, but fuck it.

“Would you even let me sit on your face?”

A groan vibrated against your core. “Fuck yes, I would.”

A smirk came over your swollen lips. Hearing the near desperate way he spoke had you going further, toying with the idea before deciding to take a chance. You were feeling very lucky tonight, as it is.

“Well then?”

Chan looked up at you in surprise. He stared until he realized you were serious, mirroring your grin.

“If you insist.”

He sat up and motioned you to move aside so he could sit back and prepare for what was to come. Waiting until Chan got comfortable, you kept your eyes locked on his as you slowly removed your sodden underwear. You almost giggled at how he broke the staring contest, fixated on the now exposed area. Tossing the garment off to who knows where, you poked one of his pecs to catch his attention, letting the laugh escape at the sheepish expression he donned.

He was quick to apologize before laying flat on his back, head just below the pillows. He then pointed to his face, a cheeky grin pasted on now.

“Take a seat.”

You were quick to scoot up and follow his invitation until a thought came through at the last second. Just as you were about to straddle Chan’s head, you turned your body before climbing on, facing towards his lower body instead.

“Oy, what are you doing?”

You hummed before giving his firm stomach a pat. “Enjoying the view.”

A laugh rang from behind as you felt his warm hands cup the top of your ass.

“Cheeky.”

He didn’t give you a moment to reply as he pushed your hips down, ripping a sound out of you as you sat on his tongue now. With slow precision, Chan began lapping at your slick skin, electricity running up your spine before blooming into spreading heat. It didn’t take long before you began moaning at the contact, back arching in enjoyment.

Guess kissing wasn’t the only thing he was good at.

Chan continued to lick at you, dipping into each crevice with varying pressure. Just when you were about to whine when he was too light, he’d increase the strength, throwing you for a loop. There were a few times where you’d nearly lose your balance, tightening your core muscles to prevent yourself from falling over. But after a while, you couldn’t take it anymore, abdominals screaming for mercy.

You had to brace yourself somehow. Scrambling for somewhere to hold onto, your eyes landed on the rippled expanse below you.

Ah. Perfect.

Just as you felt a harsh suck to your folds, your palms landed on Chan’s abs.

Damn.

Did this guy have rocks under his skin or what?

Just as your fingers began exploring every ridge on his waist, you felt something clamp around your throbbing clit before giving a pull.

“Fuck!”

If it wasn’t for his strong hands, you would have bucked down into his face. The temptation grew the more he continued.

Okay, you couldn’t just sit still (well, as still as you could be with his mouth working you over). You needed to suck his dick. Now.

Collecting yourself as much as possible, you put some more weight on your lower body so you could reach for Chan’s pants. Your fingers fumbled a bit, but you managed to get the button and his fly undone. Parting the fabric, you got a better view of the thick outline pressing against his black underwear, sliding your hand under the elastic band to get a feel of it. The second your fingertips went underneath, you felt the body under you give a jolt. Only when your hand wrapped around his cock did he relax.

Damn. Whatever you were holding, you had to see it for yourself.

You pulled Chan’s length out of his underwear, jaw dropping at its appearance.

Nice and thick, perfect for stretching your needy walls out when the time came. But for now…

You lowered your torso to rest on Chan’s, mouth immediately getting to work once his dick was in proximity. The second your tongue touched the velvety skin, vibrations hummed against your pussy. They only increased in frequency the more you incorporated the muscle. Eventually, you chose to take him fully in your mouth, pulling back in enough time to avoid choking as his hips jerked.

Wrapping your fist around the base, your head began bobbing in your own rhythm, hearing and feeling the muffled grunts and groans from behind. You missed Chan’s lips on your cunt when he pulled away at one point, but it was remedied by the praise he gave.

“That’s it, baby…oh shit—”

You smiled around his dick, deciding to throw in a few hums of your own, savoring the way he dug his fingers into the curve of your ass.

“So glad you came up with this—“

A jiggle of one of your cheeks pulled a muffled moan out of you.

“I get to have a great view and feel that mouth.”

So he was an ass man, huh?

Your observation was solidified when you gave it a little shake that rewarded you with a curse. In no time, Chan returned to giving your most intimate area attention again, sending waves of bliss coursing up your spine again.

Between you and him, the room filled up with lewd sounds and noises. Slowly a knot began to form in your guy, encouraging you to up your movements. You provided more suction, receiving a buck of the hips that caught you off-guard. A light gag emitted as his tip hit the top of your throat.

Chan was quick to pull off, speaking in a huskier voice than before, “Shit, sorry. You alright?”

You let him out of your mouth, his wet cock bouncing back down onto his lap.

“Yeah, I’m good.”

You didn’t even give him a chance to continue, leaning down to lick up the bead of precum on his flushed head. The moan he gave was absolutely worth it.

“What the fuck— Your mouth is too good.”

You laughed, pressing a kiss below his belly button.

“So I’ve heard.”

Another swear echoed from behind before you felt his hands pushing at your hips. Picking up what he was asking for, you swiftly climbed off, only to feel those same hands tugging at you again. Before you knew it, you ended up on your back with Chan perched over you, looking more fiery thanks to the dual act.

The blown-out pupils in his dark brown irises, combined with his sweat-covered brow, glistening mouth and chin made him look like a feral man, ready to devour every inch of you.

Good. So you were on equal grounds; you were ready to satiate his appetite too.

“You’re killin’ me, Y/N.”

A brow lifted. “The feeling’s mutual.”

Chan grunted before pressing his forehead onto yours, eyes zeroed in on your own.

“Is it?”

“Yeah, it is—”

Your pitch grew when you felt fingers skimming over your damp center, biting your lip when you felt one of them circle your clit.

“Hm, sure feels like it. Just when I thought you couldn’t get any wetter…”

A good portion of that was contributed to Chan working you up with his mouth. Hell, you could feel yourself pushing out a drop right now because of his touch.

“You must be feeling good about it—!”

Yet again, he caught you off-guard by prodding between your lower lips, teasing your twitching hole with his index finger.

“Damn right I am.”

He wouldn’t let you come up with another retort, applying pressure until the tip began sinking in, your breath hitching. The sudden intrusion gave way to a pleasant stretch as he pushed even further, up until you felt his knuckle brushing outside.

“Chan—”

Your lover merely hummed, starting to pump slowly as he continued to stare down at you.

“You feel like you’re ready for me, baby.”

Your hips bucked when he sped up for a moment before slowing down.

“I am.”

Chan’s teeth flashed, the impishness contrasting the actions of his hand.

“Nah, nevermind. You’re not ready.”

Frustration began building inside as he continued teasing you, a huff escaping your swollen lips.

“You’re such an ass.”

One of your favorite giggles came out while he pressed his index finger against your entrance.

“Am I?”

Despite the mild burn from the stretch as he added the digit, your hand came up to swat one of his solid pecs.

“Yes! Working me up like this and then laughing—”

This man just loved to torture you, didn’t he? For he decided to go searching and quickly found that rough spot inside that made your back arch.

“Fuck!”

“I don’t know, sweetheart, you don’t sound very mad right now.”

You were about to swear at him again, but he gave a few solid presses that made a lewd sound emit, making your face burn and your hips jerk.

“Godammit Chan—!”

Chan continued to play dumb, peering down at you with a look of mock concern.

“What’s wrong? My fingers not enough for you, babygirl?”

“N-No— I need more!”

Hums and tilts his head, still thrusting his fingers.

“You sure?”

That’s it.

“Chan, you son of a bitch, if you don’t fuck me right now—”

One of his trademark giggles escaped at your attitude.

“Alright, alright, I hear ya.”

Pulling his fingers out with a squelch, you sighed in relief when he went to grab a condom from his nightstand.

“Thank you, baby.”

Chan gave a chuckle as he prepared himself, quick to climb back on once he was fully sheathed. Just as you figured he would get straight to business, he surprised you by stealing a kiss from you. One kiss long enough to distract you until you felt him poking your folds. With that, you couldn’t wait any longer.

Pulling your lips away a bit, you husked against his own, “Come on.”

For once, your lover didn’t have a quip, choosing to give you what you so desired. Either that or he was hiding his own needs well, for Chan began guiding himself inside, pulling an audible moan out of you. Okay, maybe having his fingers beforehand was a good thing; the stretch he was giving you was something else.

“Shit, Chan—“

He seemed to be affected by the way your walls practically swallowed his dick, a knit between sweat-covered brows and his teeth bared as he ground out, “This pussy is so fuckin’ tight— Worth the wait.”

A grunt came out as you involuntarily clamped down at the words, forcing his hips to pause on his trek. But as soon as you loosened, Chan continued to push forward until he bottomed out, leaving you full and yearning for more.

Thankfully, you two seemed to be on the same wavelength now, for he didn’t hesitate on starting up a rhythm, slow but steady.

You were quickly affected by the friction, wrapping your legs around his hard and built waist to keep him as close to you as possible. Soft pants escalated into thorough moans, the sparks deep in your gut beginning to light a fire that spread to every end of your body.

“Mm, that’s it…”

Chan chuckled at your encouragement, running a tongue over his reddened lips as he gazed down at you.

“Just what you wanted, eh?”

Yes. This was just what you wanted.

To have him moving inside of you, rolling those hips just like he was doing on the dancefloor. Every inch of his cock stroked all of your sweet spots and his pelvis grinded against your pulsating clit, leaving you an absolute mess underneath his muscled body. It didn’t help when he began whispering all sorts of praise and filth into your ear.

Eventually, you found your body craving more and dug your nails into the tight muscles on his back.

“Chan—”

“Mm?”

It took a little longer than expected to respond, but you managed.

“Fuck me harder, please—”

Did you mean to sound that whiny? Not at all.

But it seemed to be worth it as Chan’s demeanor changed a bit, some of the humor leaving his expression. From the way you felt him twitch inside, your begging hit a nerve.

A nerve that had him nodding before starting to practically pound into you. You didn’t know what to classify the sound that left your mouth as, but it was loud and it was sharp.

This man’s hips were too powerful. Every thrust inched you further up the bed, to the point where you had to plant your hands on the headboard for support. The last thing you wanted was a concussion.

Well, this was what you asked for and he was gladly giving it to you.

Chan himself was pleased with the change of pace, judging by the more frequent moans and groans leaving him.

“Goddamn, Y/N—”

Fuck, he sounded so good like this. Like a man unleashing secret desires after hiding them for so long. Maybe you should’ve encouraged him to go all out sooner.

His sense of rhythm was also strong in the bedroom, it seems. The way your skin clapped against his added to the pleasant melody that was both of your cries and words jumbling together in the musky room.

Among all of the carnal noises the both of you were releasing, you could have sworn you heard three thumps in succession. Almost like someone was banging on the wall.

Eh, probably your imagination.

Out of nowhere, Chan stilled his hips before beginning to slip out of you. An indignant cry left your swollen lips at the withdrawal, propping yourself up on your elbows to scowl up at your lover.

“What the fuck?!”

You weren’t surprised to see his mouth curl at your response. This guy and being amused by your anger was a combo that you were about to tire of.

Chan reached a hand out to give your hip a pat before scooting back a bit, husking out, “Turn that ass over, babygirl—”

Oh. That’s why.

His request made your brief irritation disappear in a second and you were swift in complying, forcing your body to react and reposition itself on hands and knees. You felt a palm rub over one of your ass cheeks before giving it a light grope, unable to hold back from doing a little wiggle in response. A groan sounded from behind, followed by the blunt head of Chan’s cock pressing against your entrance before sliding back in.

This position had you clutching the sheets, thanks to how his length stroked areas that he couldn’t reach before. Surely if he rolled his hips again, he’d render your limbs useless due to pleasure.

You didn’t have to wonder much longer as Chan continued his pace with little hesitation. The movement ripped a yelp out of you as you now found yourself supporting your weight on your torso, arms losing stability.

“Ch-Chan!”

You heard a laugh lingering with cockiness from behind before he said something else that tickled you.

“Okay, those pants weren’t doing your ass enough justice.”

The compliment made your lips twitch, the boost to your confidence making you give a solid push back.

“Oh yeah?”

Chan was quick to give a solid thrust, nearly knocking you off your knees.

“Fuck yeah.”

You were ready to give another reply until he continued with the solid thrusts; clearly, there was no more room for conversation. The two of you kept at it, the claps of your skin mixing with every little filth and praise spilling out of you and Chan’s mouths. You enjoyed each moment of it until you started feeling a coil building deep in your stomach, forcing you to get louder in your cries.

It must have tipped Chan off as you felt him lean over your drenched back to whisper in your ear, “You gonna come for me, babygirl?”

“Yes, yes!”

A curse left him before you felt him pull out yet again, but he didn’t give you a chance to cuss him out as he flipped you onto your back and guided his cock back in with little patience. He proceeded with pounding the shit out of you again, the flush in his cheeks doing little to tone down the wolfishness of his smirk.

“Good, wanna feel this sweet cunt squeezing me—“

Ugh. The absolute nerve of this man to give you that blinding grin while he was all up in your guts. And then to speak like that?

You weren’t given much more time to be irate before that pang in your gut increased, thanks to Chan returning to rolling his hips like before. Your poor clit received every ounce of stimulation, pushing you closer and closer to that edge. Needing to hold onto something for stability, you were about to grab for his shoulders before remembering Felix’s little hint from earlier.

Shooting your lover a smirk, you savored the curious look on his face before it was wiped off, thanks to the nails that dug into the back of his neck. You could feel whatever parts of him pressed against you stiffen for a moment, paired with the hitching of his breath.

“So it is true.”

Chan didn’t seem to be as amused as you were, brows furrowing at your teasing. He wouldn’t let you scratch his neck again, reaching behind for your wrists before pinning them down to the bed. The move made you gasp, being left at his mercy now.

“It is. Now be good and let me keep fucking you.”

You didn’t fight against his command one bit. As a reward, the tension in your belly expanded until you couldn’t take it anymore. After a particularly thorough hip roll, the rubber band snapped, forcing a sharp cry to escape your agape mouth filling the room.

Your legs shook next to his still-moving hips, pussy squeezing him on and off with no signs of stopping. After a moment, Chan paused, allowing you to ride out the harsh waves with ease. You could barely notice him watching you fall apart, only focusing when he said something that caught your attention.

“Shit, ‘m gonna come, baby—“

Wanting to make that a reality, you tugged one of your wrists free with some force before landing a hand on the back of his sweat-soaked neck again. He didn’t have a chance to scold you, mouth letting out an unmistakably shaky groan at the sensation of your nails running over the skin. Just a few more passes granted you with the lovely sound and sight of Chan reaching his limit as well.

You felt his cock pulsating between your still contracting walls as he spilled into the condom, hips pressed firmly against yours. Watching your lover’s face knit in sheer gratification was worth all the teasing you endured over the last couple of hours.

Once he was through his orgasm, Chan relaxed his lower half on top of yours, taking care to keep the upper half hovering above. You showed your appreciation with a pat of his back. As nice as his ripped body felt against you, the crushing weight wouldn’t have been ideal at the moment.

“Damn…”

His weak exhale brought a feeble giggle out of you.

“You alright, baby?”

Chan huffed, bringing a hand up to brush a rolling bead of sweat off your brow.

“Should be asking you that, sweetheart.”

You shrugged, hoping your knees would quit shaking soon.

“Still kicking and breathing.”

“Hmm.”

Now that your heart-rate was beginning to return to normal, you were growing aware of just how intense the session had gotten. Every inch of your skin was covered in sweat and the muscles in the lower part of your body were about to start screaming for mercy. And between your legs where Chan was still deeply nestled…

“Chan.”

“Mm?”

You tipped your head back, peering at a familiar package sitting on one of the headboard shelves.

“Mind passing one of those wipes?”

When your eyes opened, two questions went through your mind.

Where were you and what time was it?

In the dimly-lit room, you could tell that it wasn’t the decor you were familiar with. You also didn’t see your alarm clock on your nightstand to inform you of the current time. But after a minute, the fog in your brain began to clear and everything started to come back to you.

The thick arm laying on your waist also helped.

Turning your head, your mouth curled at the sleeping figure next to you. Chan was still dead to the world, plush mouth parted as he snored softly. You had to hold back a giggle at the trail of drool running out. At least it didn’t happen while he was on top.

Fighting the urge to grab a wipe and clean him up, you focused on sneaking out from his hold without waking him up. You managed to lay his arm back down carefully, Chan not even budging a mite. You started looking for your clothes, specifically your pants first. The garment laid at the foot of the bed still and you picked them up, reaching in the back pocket for your phone.

You clicked on the home screen .

8:53 AM.

Whoops. You definitely didn’t mean to stay that long.

Time to go.

You glanced back at Chan. You didn’t want to go without saying goodbye, after the night he gave you, but you weren’t sure if he’d appreciate the interruption to his sleep. Biting your lip, you mulled over it as you quietly redressed.

Once you got your top situated, you made your way to the door, hand resting on the knob as you peeked at him once again.

Should you really leave like this? He did make an impression on you, outside of the bedroom. You weren’t necessarily looking for a relationship with the guy, but you didn’t want this to be the last time you’d see him. Relying on the odds that you’d see him at the club again was risky, too.

Maybe you could find something to write on out there…

Giving Chan’s sleeping form a grateful smile, you carefully opened the door before stepping out into the hallway. Just as you shut it, you heard one opening further down. You looked up to see his roommate appearing, wrapped tight in a cozy blanket. It took him a few seconds to realize you were there, but he was quick to give you a sleepy wave.

“Morning.”

The yawn that followed his greeting made you chuckle, returning his wave.

“Good morning. Slept well?”

Felix shrugged, dark eyes bleary. “Well enough.” Said eyes looked you over before a brow raised. “Sneaking out?”

“Yeah, I think I overstayed my welcome.”

The blond hummed, slipping a hand out of his throw to fix his bedhead. “Understandable. Well, feel free to leave whenever you want, I’m going to go get a brownie to start my day off.”

Before you could make your exit, Felix regarded you for a second before tilting his head.

“Would you like one?”

You blinked, both in surprise and at the fact that this guy was eating a dessert for breakfast. Then again, free food.

“Oh? Um…sure?”

Felix chuckled, a grin forming.

“Don’t be shy, I can always make more. Come on.”

He gestured you to follow him, heading down the hall and towards the kitchen. Sure enough, there was a container of brownies on one of the counters. Your eyes bugged when Felix opened it, showing that it was filled to the brim. No wonder he said to not hold back.

You took two while he picked up three, grabbing some paper towels nearby to lay them on before standing by the island. Once you bit into the pastry, you realized that you were hungrier than you thought. That, and these brownies were fucking delicious.

You were quick to let Felix know, receiving an appreciative smile. Even though you had planned to head on home, you found yourself making small talk with him.

But then he threw out a statement that caught you off guard.

“You guys were pretty loud.”

A crumb almost lodged itself in your throat, cheeks flooding with heat.

“Ah…surprised you didn’t say anything.”

Felix lifted his slender shoulders, not really looking that bothered. “Well, I did bang on the wall a bit, but it didn’t do shit. Just put my headphones on and ended up falling asleep to a movie.”

Damn, were you and Chan that disruptive? Looks like that banging you heard wasn’t in your head, at all.

“Sorry, Felix.”

“Eh, no worries. Better that than him coming home alone and complaining to me how he couldn’t pick a girl up. Although, I do have to congratulate you—”

Felix grinned, eyes scrunching in mischief.

“Sounds like you found that spot on his neck.”

Good thing you swallowed your bite as you burst into laughter at his compliment.

“I should be thanking you for the hint! It definitely made him weak.”

“It always does! Did he drool on you?”

“Nope.”

The blond gave a thumbs up while biting into another brownie. As soon as he finished his bite, he regarded you with caution before leaning in. He motioned you to do the same, your curiosity increasing as you followed his gesture.

“You know—”

The way he whispered made it sound like he was about to tell you something scandalous.

“If he was shit in bed, you can tell me. I won’t say a word. It’s 2023 and I feel like girls need to stop faking it and just be blunt with these lazy cunts.”

You didn’t think you could laugh louder than before, but Felix proved you wrong. After it died down into giggles, you straightened up, wiping a tear from your eye.

“Thank you for the reassurance, but trust me, it was all real.”

Felix sat up and pouted. “Damn, was hoping I’d have something to hold against him.” He sighed, ”If you say so.”

“Sorry buddy, you’re not gonna get it from me today.”

He nodded, all seeming well as his pretty lips curled in humor. The break in conversation reminded you to check the time, exclaiming in surprise.

“Damn, I really should go.” You finished up your ‘breakfast’, brushing your hands clean. “Thanks again for the brownies, Felix.”

“No problem, Y/N. You want any for the road?”

Your eyes narrowed playfully.

“I feel like you’re trying to thicken me up.”

Felix smirked. “Well, someone has to play host while Chris is asleep. You ate those two pretty fast, so…”

There was no way he’d let you leave without one, was there? A sigh left you.

“Fine, if you’re offering.”

The pleased blond was quick to wrap up a few for you, leaving you waiting for a minute. Suddenly, a thought hit you. You didn’t have a way to keep in contact with Chan.

There was no way you could part ways with that wonderful man and be able to sleep peacefully.

“Hey Felix.”

“Hm?”

You grabbed a napkin and a nearby pen, jotting down the numbers from memory. Once Felix walked back over, you handed him the note.

“Mind giving this to Chan for me?”

He took it and looked it over, brows raising in intrigue before he nodded at you.

“Sure.”

You smiled and expressed your gratitude, taking the brownies before Felix led you out to the front door. With a wave and a ‘have a good day’, you headed down the hallway, a sway in your somewhat sore hips.

Who knew that last night would go the way it did? You just might have met your match. Someone who could keep up with your moves and handle you in the bedroom.

If Chan wanted to see more of what you could do, he better take your gift and use it wisely.

Chan couldn’t tell what time it was when he awoke, thanks to those new blinds he bought. All he knew was that there was someone else in his room. And judging by the familiar clacking of a keyboard, he knew exactly who it was.

Prying his bleary eyes open, he stretched, groaning quietly at the way his muscles protested at the action. He sat up in bed, automatically wiping off the semi-dried drool on his chin. The motion must have alerted the other person as they turned their head to look at him.

“Morning, bro.”

Chan grumbled at the chipper greeting as he rubbed his eyes.

“Felix, the fuck are you doing in my room?”

“Picking up where I was so rudely interrupted last night.”

Not having the energy to fire back a quip, the older roommate rolled his eyes. But then he realized something. There should have been a third occupant in the bedroom…

He looked next to where he was laying, frowning when he saw nothing but rumpled sheets, rather than an equally nude body.

“Where is she?”

“Went home, mate.”

Felix’s flippant response made Chan swear under his breath. Fuck, he meant to get your number or something before you left. He figured that the two of you were on the same wavelength after last night’s events and honestly, he didn’t want this to be a one and done. Did you get tired of waiting for him to wake up or…

He fixed a glare at the back of Felix’s head. “Did you scare her away?”

All he heard was the sip of a drink before his roommate answered.

“Nope.”

The flippant response made Chan hop out of bed, storming over to spin the chair around hard, gripping the blond’s shoulders with force.

“Felix, you little cunt, if I find out that you kicked her out just so you could play fucking Fortnite, I’m beating your ass.”

He was clearly unbothered, removing Chan’s hands from his person with laziness.

“Chill, man. I ran into her in the hall just as she was leaving. I had to play host since you were clearly doing a bad job at it.”

Chan raised a brow, his irritation cooling a bit. “Really?”

“Yup, offered her some of my brownies too. Sure did love them, even took a few to go.”

Huh. Well, at least Felix didn’t shoo you away, but it still didn’t assuage his worries. He’d just have to hope that he would see you at the club again. This time, he wouldn’t let you get away without an exchange of contact information.

Chan was ready to back off until he noticed the younger’s mouth twisting into a feline grin.

“At least one of us gave her something to remember this place by.”

Never mind. The anger came back in full force.

“You fucking—!”

He made a grab for Felix, but he slipped out from underneath him and ran out into the hallway. Not caring that he was still in his birthday suit, he chased him until he was cornered. The older man was ready to maim, slowly approaching until the other held his hands up in surrender.

“Wait wait wait, Chris! Before you murder me, I’ve got something for you.”

Chan was about ready to lunge when Felix spoke up. Shooting a look that emitted ‘you’ve got one chance’, he paused as he watched the other reach into the pocket of his pajama pants. He slipped something white and thin out before holding it towards him. Taking it with a scowl, the dark-haired man read over the writing on what he realized was a napkin. Each letter and number made his face mold into one of pure shock.

For it was your name and number written down, complete with a cute heart at the end.

“This is…”

Felix held his hands out to the side, looking a lot more smug now. “You’re welcome, mate. Pretty sure my baking changed her mind, but who knows? You might’ve put in some work last night, too.”

Chan shook his head, smiling a little bit now.

“Dickhead. Thanks for this.”

His roommate nodded before folding his arms and raising his brows. “Now can I please get back to my game?”

The brunette waved his hand as he began turning around, still gazing at your neat handwriting.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Go on, I’ve gotta go shower anyways.”

“Yeah, go do that, bro—”

Felix began walking past his enamored friend. “You smell like sweat and smegma.”

Chan didn’t miss the opportunity to smack him on the back of the head, smirking at the cry of pain he let out. He headed off to the bathroom, checking to make sure the counter was dry before setting the napkin down.

He still couldn’t believe it; you actually left your number!

Just when he thought he’d have to rely on a chance encounter, Felix came through with a beacon of hope. Maybe he’d treat the little shit to dinner tonight; he had been airing his grievances on how it’s been ages since they’ve had Thai food. But first, Chan had something very important to do after his shower.

He had to update his contacts and try his best not to text you too soon.

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callie-the-creator · 18 days

Text

ayato aishi being in love with an idol!reader would include...

sfw. warnings: yandere and obsessive behavior but that’s about it.

author’s note: this was also posted on my wattpad account, just wanted to share it here!

• the only reason ayato knew of your existence was because he heard your name a few times brought up at school. at first, he thought you were a student at akademi but something in the back of his mind told him that he had the wrong idea. he ended up shrugging it off. that is, until he saw a 3d billboard of you in tokyo, telling the watchers below to buy tickets for your upcoming concert.

• this whole time, y/n was an idol? ayato felt like a complete idiot when he realized this and spent the next few minutes, just standing there on the sidewalk, watching the same billboard cycle through other things until you popped up again. when you did, ayato took his time admiring your features. it's no wonder you were so popular at school...you're gorgeous.

• with that, ayato hurried to his house whilst he looked up everything about you and once he was in his house, he listened to every single song that you have ever sung. unreleased, popular, underrated, instrumental, acapella, you name it. you just so happened to have over 45 songs! for someone who was in the music scene for such a short amount of time, you did have a lot of albums...but that's alright!

— while it wasn't ayato's usual taste in music, he was willing to make an exception for you and only you.

• ayato is the type of guy to see someone wearing a piece of your merchandise, walk up to them, and say, "oh, you like y/n l/n? name 5 songs."

— insufferable, yes, but he had to assert dominance and show every single follower that he was your number #1 fan! if someone claims to be it, they're dead wrong. literally.

• he hates how some of the guys at his school also knew who you were and thought you were attractive. ayato knows that realistically, it was bound to happen but he still hates having to deal with it and it's not like he could do anything about it too, just suck it up.

• if you're the type of idol to dye your hair differently with every single album debut, ayato carefully tracks for any leaks on what color it would be because he's been debating on matching with you. he's lucky that akademi high school isn't strict when it comes to uniquely colored hair (as some schools force students to dye their hair black, even if a person's natural hair color is brown). of course, he would stick out more but he didn't care. it's a way he can show his support for you and there's nothing wrong with that.

• has only been to one of your concerts since, he won't lie, the tickets are a bit pricey and his part-time job could hardly cover it. the concert was really cool to experience— especially since ayato doesn't get out much— and he loved seeing you in person, but some annoying fans in front of him wouldn't stop holding their signs up in the air blocking his view but still tried to have a good thing by waving his light-stick and chanting in perfect harmony with the other fans.

— he would've gone a vip pass instead, but if he did that, ayato would have become flat-broke and that would in turn make him receive an angry lecture from his parents about finances.

• ayato has sent you loads of fan mail, some by name, others anonymously. he's sure that you get thousands by the hour but if there is even the slightest chance that you might read at least one of his, he'll take that opportunity

• whenever you describe your ideal type in a man in interviews, ayato makes it his duty to meet the criteria. you want someone with a little bit of muscle? he can work out more. you want a man who can cook? looks like ayato will be joining the cooking club at school. trust me, he will do anything to be viewed perfect in your eyes

• although his first-ever time seeing you in person was pretty much a bust, ayato made up for it by teaming up with info-kun to see where you would be in japan and finding your location by fan sightings. it was from there that ayato was able to find you in shibuya but it wasn't good news, actually. you were mad at the paparazzi trying to take scandalous photos of you and when ayato realized this, his head began to spin and he, too, started shouting at them to give you some space and to back off.

— when you realized this, you turned over to see just who was coming to help you since you weren't expecting it and mouthed a small 'thank you' which sent ayato's heart soaring.

• ayato has purchased an ungodly amount of merch from you, whether that be shirts, water bottles, limited-time ramen, or soda cans, he's even ripped off pages in magazines solely because your face was on it.

• alas, he still needs to find a way to worm into your personal life. it's a little hard to do that with just how many bodyguards you have and have lots of cameras in your house, too many for him to be able to capture you without any issues...

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eldritch-thrumming · 5 months

Text

September 1986

It’s a Saturday when they finally make it up to Bloomington. Steve had to bribe Robin into taking his afternoon shift by promising he’d take three of her Monday mornings in a row. It sucked, but looking over at Eddie in his passenger’s seat, hair whipping around him as he head bangs to whatever music he’s got playing on Steve’s car radio, he thinks it’s probably worth it.

It takes them an hour to get there and once they reach the city limits, Steve has to turn down the music so Eddie can direct him to the store he’s been coming to for the last ten years.

“Used to come here as a kid, when I first moved in with Wayne,” Eddie tells him as he gestures for Steve to make a left at the light. “The guy who owns the place—Greg—is an old friend from, like, World War II or whatever. You know, that homoerotic male bonding trauma shit.” Eddie nudges Steve with his elbow, winking when Steve looks over. “Wayne’s the one who taught me to play, did I tell you that?” Steve shakes his head. “Well, he thought it’d be a good way to get out all that energy, I guess.” Eddie grins. “Greg used to give me these tapes of the local music scene, stuff he’d been able to record at live shows or people renting out his booth in the back. There was some fucking awesome stuff in there, some of the bands have even made it pretty big. Oh, take a right here and then another right at the stop sign.” Steve sees it before Eddie points it out, a big red guitar on the sign. “That parking lot there, Stevie.” Eddie makes a big show of pointing, practically leaning out of the passenger’s side window like a dog, as if Steve needs the help at all.

Steve pulls into a spot right in front of the store and puts the car in park. Eddie practically leaps from his seat, slamming the door behind him and bounding up to the double glass doors, not even waiting for Steve to climb out of the car himself before he’s pulling the door open and rushing inside. Steve just rolls his eyes, locking the car doors before he follows.

The place is exactly what Steve expected. A little bell twinkles overhead as he passes through the entrance. It’s a little dimly lit, due to the way the storefront is arranged, but Steve can clearly see the rows of guitars hanging from the walls, the bins of sheet music underneath. There are other instruments, too, a couple of upright pianos near the counter in the back, some electric keyboards, a whole section of violins. He can’t help but think about how Robin would love this place and makes a mental note to suggest they all come up here together sometime. Steve follows Eddie’s voice to the glass counter where the register sits, harmonicas lined up on shelves lined in velvet in the case below it.

“—my friend Steve,” Eddie’s saying, gesturing towards Steve as Steve comes to stand beside him. Steve looks up at the man he assumes is Greg. He’s older, maybe a little older than Wayne even, laugh lines around his mouth and an easy smile on his lips. He’s got a long grey ponytail to match his long grey beard. A green flannel hangs off his skinny frame. Eddie smiles at Steve, his hand brushing along Steve’s bicep as he turns to introduce him. “Steve, this is Greg.”

“Hey, Steve,” Greg reaches his hand out for a shake and Steve takes it. Greg’s hand is warm and dry, eyes sparkling, friendly. Steve feels safe here. “Eddie says he’s teaching you to play guitar. Not sure how much you’re gonna learn from ol’ butterfingers here.” He points his thumb at Eddie.

“Hey!” Eddie yells in mock offense.

Greg laughs. “When Eddie was first learning, he’d try to snack and play at the same time. Always the same thing, those Bugles, you know?” He holds his hands up in front of him, wiggling his fingertips. Steve nods, grinning. “Hands full of grease, couldn’t get a grip on anything.”

Steve’s grin widens when Eddie rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, okay, old man.” He lifts himself from where he’d been leaning on the counter, tapping is own fingertips along the glass. “How about you make yourself useful and do your job? Steve’s looking for a new guitar.”

“Awesome, man, first one?” Greg asks Steve.

“Uh, yeah, I’ve been borrowing a friend’s, but I’d like to get one of my own.” Steve runs a hand through his hair. “Nothing too fancy, I don’t know much about anything really.”

Greg grins again. “A real newbie, I love that.” He walks across to the front left corner of the store. “Obviously you want an acoustic, easier to learn on, especially if this dumbass is the one teaching you.” Eddie lets out a sound of offense. “These are your best bet. No bells and whistles, nothing fancy. You can get fancier once you know more.” Greg turns toward Steve. “Wanna try some out?”

Steve nods and Greg slides a stool over, gesturing for Steve to sit. He pulls the first guitar off its hook and hands it to Steve. Steve strums a few chords.

“How’s it feel?” Greg asks.

“It’s good,” Steve says hesitantly.

“Good but not great, right?” Steve nods. “Yeah, I could tell. That’s okay. You’ll know when you feel it.” Greg takes the guitar back from Steve, handing him a new one.

After about four or five rounds, Greg pulls the last one off the wall. It looks a little like Robin’s, but the wood’s a little darker, almost red, and the finish is a little shinier. Steve’s fingertips are buzzing when he takes it from Greg and feels the smooth strings under his fingers.

“That’s it, right?” Greg asks, smiling.

“Yeah,” Steve breathes out. “This is it.” He returns Greg’s smile.

Eddie meets them back up at the counter, wandering over from where he’d been sifting through the sheet music.

“Find one?” Eddie nods toward the case on the counter.

“Found a real good one,” Greg tells him, snapping the lid of the case open to show him.

Eddie grins, dimples on full display. “Wow, Stevie.” Eddie looks over at Steve, face soft. “Looks great. Very metal.”

Steve’s not entirely sure why that makes him blush.

read the new chapter of all of me changed like midnight. posted now

#steddie #steddiebigbang23 #steddie bang #steddie bigbang #steddie fic #steddie fic rec #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie fanfiction #steddie fanfic

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whattodoattheendoftheworld · 16 days

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Roomies band au

C!Cleo gives the energy of someone who has the singing voice of a god, but will unintentionally destroy any instrument they touch, while C!Etho gives the energy of someone who can play any instrument known to man with varying levels of successfulness while still being decent at all of them, but can't sing to save his life, so I propose this: a band au where they make little songs and such in their garage together.

Grian would get dragged into editing everything for them simply because he lives with them and they don't want to do it themselves. He especially hates editing anything Etho has created because his stuff, every single instrumental ever, is so much more to edit than Cleo's vocals.

They would post their songs on a YouTube channel Grian set up for them after Cleo bullied Etho into letting her.

All of their songs become emo the moment Etho gets his hands on them and Cleo allows it without resistance.

One of their songs is a platonic love/rant song Etho wrote about Joel and he always says that it can be about anything the listener wants it to, or makes a stupidly complicated story for what it's actually about, but it's really just about Joel and Etho can't lie about it. It's probably called "Neck Kisses" or something to match Joel's Spotify playlist. Of course, Cleo bullies him into releasing it since it unironically goes hard. (Think "You Stupid B!tch" by Girl In Red, but with less romantic undertones.)

The second Bdubs finds out about their little band/duo thing, he goes completely feral. He immediately becomes their #1 fan, makes merch for them and begs them to show him unreleased songs. I can't decide if it's actually because he loves their music or if he just wants to be supportive.

Joel, on the other hand, finds out about it and lovingly hates on them. Not publicly or anything and not really to Cleo - it's mostly just him making fun of Etho, so really just the usual for them. He calls himself their de-hype man nonetheless.

The merch Bdubs makes is surprisingly high quality for hand-made stuff, mostly consisting of shirts and jumpers decorated with song lyrics and names and maybe a few socks and some custom kazoos. He and Grian team up to make them an official merch website.

I like the idea of them just being like a small indie band that appreciates every like and nice comment they get, so Etho has some kind of heart attack when they hit a hundred subscribers. Of course, Bdubs convinces/forces them to celebrate the, albeit small, achievement and invites everyone even vaguely involved, so it's just Cleo, Etho, Grian, Bdubs and Joel cramped inside of Cleo, Etho and Grian's garage, drinking and eating snacks together and having a marathon of every bad horror movie they can find.

They also have a friendly rivalry with "Gem and the Scotts", (since someone commented that and I loved the idea) but don't really focus too much on rivalries since half of the band (Etho) is too busy obsessing over their de-hype man.

Thinking about it now, they probably started by making covers of songs made by bands like Paramore and Twenty-One Pilots, probably some Panic! At The Disco as well. Then Cleo came up with a song about something going on in their life and asked Etho to do the instrumentals for it. Asking him to do backup vocals for her taught them that he was awful at singing since he outright refused, leading to them teaming up to create the actual band.

They're one of those alternative/indie emo bands - like Fall Out Boy and such.

I have no idea what their band name would be- it could be something simple, like just "The roomies", but I feel like they wouldn't want to leave Grian out since he isn't actually in the band. Maybe he could play the kazoo or something??

I enjoy imagining Bdubs asking about what Etho does in the band since he has never thought about him being musically talented and Cleo just takes him into Etho's room - it's filled with different instruments and merch of different bands, like they all have their own special spaces and stands. Bdubs is flabbergasted.

Despite their friendly rivalry with "Gem and the Scotts", they don't really interact with them tons because Joel has this weird hatred for Scott that he has never ever explained - No one can ask about it either since he'll just start to angrily mutter names under his breath. Cleo has deduced that it must be because of something that happened in high school, but nobody knows much more than that, except Bdubs who keeps his lips firmly sealed. (Thank another comment for this.)

#hermitcraft #hermittblr #secret life #secret life smp #life series #life series smp #zombie cleo #zombiecleo #ethoslab #etho #grian #the roomies #bdubs #smallishbeans #band au #roommates au technically #sort of a college au #Should I just be editing this whenever I have a new idea?? Idk but that's what I've been doing lol #Might have to write something on Ao3 for this lmao

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divineei · 1 year

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modern!atwow x musician!reader

modern avatar mlist!

desc. headcanons for modern avatar: the way of water teens with a musician significant other who’s in a band. reader plays a different instrument for each character.

a/n. if this flops i’m retiring. real shit.

— neteyam. ( guitarist s/o ♪! )

he sleeps with a t-shirt of your band every. goddamn. night.

gives it back to you once a week so you can spray your perfume on it. you ended up bringing him a bottle of ur fave brand and he sprays the cologne on it every time he washes it (aka ever fucking week)

mans hooked. to both you and your music

listens to your band’s songs at least once a day. either w/ headphones or on full blast it doesn’t matter

his whole family knows all the lyrics

sometimes tuk comes to his room and jumps on his bed while playing air guitar and he absolutely joins

other times tho he closes his eyes to focus and pays special attention to the guitar while having your smile in mind

he once spent like 2 weeks watching youtube tutorials to (kinda) learn one song so he could play for you

was it good? no it was fucking hideous. was it the sweetest fucking thing ever tho? absolutely it was

always tries to pick you up after band practice

my boy would rather miss his basketball competitions than miss one of your concerts

this one time he actually tried to skip a match bc your performance was at the same time and the mf showed up backstage like “hEy🙂”

you had to call his mom for him to leave (u snitch that was kinda foul)

definitely knows abt “the rockstar’s girlfriend” aesthetic and makes it his personality. like he’s so into it

you got him a t-shirt that said “im with the band” as a joke but he actually wears it and its hilarious

— kiri. ( keyboard s/o ♪! )

comes to your house just to hear you play

she brings a book and lays down on your bed while you make new music

ADORES watching you come up with new tunes!!!!!!

you always have that focused look on your face as you move your fingers over the keys at makes her want to take a picture (she actually has a few ngl)

always goes back home humming your new melody

you record covers of her favorite songs on your keyboard and give her a cd that she listens to on her discman (she defo owns old gadgets like that)

sometimes puts her phone down on her window stool, where she has her favorite plants, and leaves it there with your music playing. she likes to think it help her plants grow

lowkey gatekeeps your songs

there was this one time you couldn’t sleep bc she kept appearing on your mind, so you connected your headphones and made your “ode to kiri”

it was 2am when you vídeocalled her to play for her what you just wrote

and kiri being the sensitive person she is, swore she could feel your affection through the music, little tears threatening to fall from her pretty eyes

it was truly a treasured memory in your relationship

until a loud ass knock on your door and an equally loud “FFS ITS 2AM!!!!!” almost made you drop dead

she absolutely laughed at you btw

— lo’ak. ( bassist s/o ♪! )

brings you stickers so you can decorate your bass w/ them

“aye babe i got a new sticker for your guitar” “for the hundredth time lo’ak, its a BASS!!!”

yeah he knows it annoys you and no he’s not gonna stop

his lockscreen is a picture of you on stage with a bunch of lil hearts he drew around you

when he goes to your concerts he tells everyone you two are dating

“you see that one over there bro? pfft yeah, we’re together” “do i know you man????” 💀

when you told him your band didnt have a logo yet he showed up at your door 3 days after, super excited and with a bunch of sketches to show you

i also think lo’ak would be really into graffiti art

so he goes around the neighborhood spray painting your band’s logo on the streets walls

“lo’ak you’re gonna get us in trouble” “oh cmon, its good promo!!”

he messes up with your amplifier when you practice, turning up and down the volume, the treble, etc. until you throw your pick right into his fucking forehead and he’s like:

“ma fault 😨”

the moment he (finally) sits still he actually pays really close attention to how your hands move

“damn, you make it look so easy” “im just good with my fingers ig”

cue the dumbest smirk you’ve ever seen

— ao’nung. ( drummer s/o ♪! )

imma just say it; he is popular. by that i mean ma boy has hella contacts

AND by that i mean he makes sure your band always has a venue to perform at. always first on every list fr

“ao’ stay the fuck away from my drums”

actually a fucking menace. tries to impress you by smashing the drumsticks everywhere.

“nah babe check me out i got it this time srsly”

rhythm left the room the moment he sat down

he even attempts some tricks he seen you pull off during your concerts, like throwing the sticks up or rolling them between his fingers.

they always end up either on the floor or hitting his dumbass head. it’s cool tho, u kiss it better (after a well deserved smack bc what did i tell u)

he’d still insist on learning so you two end up having a chick flick moment where you guide him by putting your hands on his

boy actually blushes. just a smidge

“your ears are red” “stfu no they’re not”

might not know shit abt making music but seeing the look on your face when you play is enough to make him see how passionate you are

loves being alone with you in your band’s backstage lounge

he’s so fucking extra he got his friend outside the door like some whack ass bodyguards. they’re so into it too bro

“aye keep walking man🕴️” “move along bitch aint nothing to see here🕴️”

whenever you’re about to go on stage he stays with you in your band’s room and massages your hands

makes sure you always put some baby powder on your palms before you perform in case you start sweating so you dont drop your drumsticks

— tsireya. ( vocalist s/o ♪! )

she sings along to your songs whenever they play

ao’nung is sick and tired of listening to her and uses ear plugs all the time bc he once told her to stfu and got smacked

you two even make your own carpool karaoke and scream the lyrics together on the parking lot

and she NAILS IT!!!!!

like my girl can sing fr

in fact you’ve asked her to help in a few songs for harmonies and second voices

she helps you out a lot with your vocal practice and your breathing exercises

she sits down with you and counts each second with her fingers when hold your breath and when you try your best to hold a specific note

let’s be honest here. A LOT of your songs are abt her

you really don’t have to tell her, she knows they are. bc when you’re up on stage singing abt the perfect girl, you look right at her. and her heart beats faster every time

sometimes you send her your lyrics like “what do u think of this??” and it’d be a full on poem abt her that makes her smile so goofy. kicking feet and everything

every time you get in the shower and start humming/singing her phone is ready

actually has a video of you freaking tf out bc you had an idea for a new song while showering and you stormed your way out the bathroom, wet and hair full off shampoo

“REYA PASS ME A PEN QUICK” “NAH WHY ARE YOU BOOTY NAKED PLEASEHAhH”

you had to mop the floor after that

— rotxo. ( acoustic guitarist s/o ♪! )

makes sure you are never out of strings to change

but since the strings are heavier from an electric guitar, he knows you sometimes hurt your fingers playing

so he bought you a bunch of finger protectors.

he’s a sweetheart, but those whack ass things he got you looked like this

yeaaah…. no. 💀

actually offensive he’d think you need that shit but you let it go bc he really just wanna be there for you

the actual definition of #1 fan

he’s on every concert

and i mean EVERY. CONCERT. front row, backstage, glowing sticks on one hand, phone on the other and zooming on you and only you

he goes to your house more than you go to his, just bc he always wants you to play smthn. and this way you dont gotta bring your guitar back and forth

when you’re together in your room, you get your guitar and he asks you to play some lofi style tunes

especially loves it when it’s summer and the both of you just lay down with the windows wide open and the breeze goes in and out. has a cool glass of your fave drink with a straw and he holds it up to you while you play

one thing ik for sure is rotxo is lowkey good at making beats/bases

the two of you have definitely made a few tracks purely for your enjoyment (like this)

many many many beach dates where you bring your guitar and he lays his head on your lap while the sun sets

taglist. — @rainbowsocks, @dearstell, @erenjaegerwifee, @neteyamyam, @lvrcpid, @grierpilots, @littlexscarletxwitch, @elegantkidfansoul, @anm3mi, @kachowness, @boilingpots , @lagoonabluebabe, @lethalvenus, @casiia, @liluvtojineteyam, @inluvwithneteyam, @syulangg, @junnniiieee07, @drugs-for-memes, @ilovejakesullysdick, @lovelyygirl8, @neqeyam, @ak-aaa-li, @sakura-onesan, @babyymeme, @gender3nvyy,

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bunny-lily · 2 months

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Lift a Pen and Rewrite the Ending

Fluff for our broken fluffed-out hearts Dedicated to @bunny584 because ow. I promised fluff, so I’m delivering fluff

Pairing: Satoru x piano teacher!fem!reader

CW: just some fluff, man. We all need some happy, sappy moments in our lives with our beloved dumbass boy.

You taught piano. Plain, simple, easy. At least, you thought so, before meeting an enigmatic man as your newest student. He played a little too well for a beginner, and seemed a little too familiar.

AN: I chose to post this on my side acc since this one was technically made for the exact purpose of writing JJK fics (same with the Ao3 acc (milk_bunny/chimeric-dreams for that one)). So, cheers to the first fic on this blog!

This was honestly scribbled down in a single sitting between 1-5 am. Please don’t judge any mistakes too harshly, I wanted to post it ASAP and not subject it to my endless course of corrections and re-writing.

This is also very short (lmao 6.7k words) for how my work is normally. Again, I just wanted to get it out as fast as I could ;w;

smol update: this has been (minorly) edited! nothing big, I mostly just went in and fixed up a couple mistakes + summoned my dearly beloved thesaurus. Otherwise, it's basically 98% the same as before!

Music sheets laid scattered around you, annotated in messy scribbles in various colors, fonts, and sizes. A scratched out row of bars here, corrected or adjusted notes there, mindless rambles stuffed into the margins as you tried desperately to figure out which key to put your song into so that it matched the exact tone you were going for.

Not like you were some well renowned artist whose career rode on their sole ability to create magical orchestrations. No, you had barely any presence at all. The videos of your songs you posted on YouTube hardly scratched a couple hundred viewers at most, with the occasional comment from a bot or scammer getting your hopes up, only for them to go crashing back down.

You weren’t some notable figure in the music industry, you were just a white-collar worker that taught piano from your tiny home part-time.

It suited you, you supposed, as bitter as you could feel at times. You were just a normie, a casual passerby who liked having your fingers spring and jump across the keys of your instrument. It was one you inherited from your grandmother. She was the one that taught you how to play when you were little, while your parents were busy working and couldn’t sit and entertain you all day like she could.

She taught you some essentials, too, like how to tune the spinet – ‘It’ll save you big bucks, bunny,’ she insisted – and how to detect even the slightest issue it might have. She was correct about it saving you big bucks.

As shabby as the thing looked, with peeling white paint and floral designs chipping off the sides, the cover scraped to hell and back, and the brassy pedals having long lost their glossy sheen, it was in perfect shape.

In your expert opinion, anyway. You were biased, so what? You had every right to be.

Granny had left the world a while ago, her ashes situated on the short mantel of your tiny fireplace. You lit the candles every day, rested two softly smoking incense sticks on the shallow bowl to catch their cinders, and gave her a swift good-morning before you raced out your door, inevitably arriving at work with only minutes to spare.

In the evenings, you’d teach, then ramble to her about your day, wish her a loving goodnight, and go pass the fuck out. Rinse and repeat, except weekends, where you were teaching all day.

It was tiring, working two jobs like this, especially when some of the kids you taught were insufferable, but music was your passion. At the end of the day, you viewed it as worth every minute spent doing something you loved.

You liked to think she would have been proud of you.

A light tapping sound, a knuckle rapping against the wood of your open front door, caught your attention. It was a warm day, one that was too good to spend with the doors and windows closed. Natural light flooded in, casting the figure standing at the entrance in a brilliant glow that hid their features from you.

You glanced at the clock on the wall to your left, then leapt up from the floor in front of your coffee table, hurriedly and messily stuffing your music sheets into a folder. “Oh, shoot, sorry! I didn’t see the time, I’m so sorry about that. Are you the two o’clock?”

Today was a surprisingly free day for you. You only had one appointment, with a new student, if you remembered correctly. You must have gotten so ingrained in your rapid-fire notations that you lost track of time.

While you weren’t expecting an adult, since the email sounded like it was from a teenager, it wasn’t uncommon. You had students of all varying ages, anyways. It was a nice change, too; you found that adults tended to listen better than children.

A smooth laugh greeted your ears, the sound impossibly pleasant to your ears. “It’s fine,” the man said as he stepped into your home, breaking from the prison of light holding him. His stark-white hair caught you off guard first, followed by his height, and then the round shades resting low on the bridge of his nose. “That’s me.”

Eyes as blue as the most vivid summer sky peered straight through yours and into your soul, his hues almost appearing to shine in the tranquil environment of your living room, without the help of the overhead lamp you had turned off. His lips curled into a sparkling grin, giving him this sort of youthful luminance that had your heart skipping beats.

You swallowed and looked away before his gleaming smile blinded you, striding over to your upright eighty-eight, using it as an excuse to busy yourself and avoid eye contact with him before he made you stop breathing just by fluttering his lashes.

“Come on in,” you responded stiffly, clearing your throat to ease off the tenseness in your muscles. Why were you getting so worked up over him? Sure, he was pretty, but you’d barely spoken two sentences to him. How had he managed to get you in such a tizzy so easily, where your tongue felt tied and your pulse raced in your wrists? “How much do you know about piano?”

“Uhh,” he set down his briefcase against the wall beside your door, slipped off his shoes, and met you next to the instrument. “I know a bit.”

“Alright,” you nodded and patted the bench, then paused to think if it would be too low for him. What intensely long legs. “Do you need me to get a different stool?”

He shook his head, sliding into the seat like it was second nature to him. “Nope, this is just fine.”

“Great,” you smiled at him and tucked your skirt under your hands as you sat down on the other end. “Let’s get started, then! Are you familiar with the different notes?”

His hands took place over the ivories and he slowly pressed each one down as he labeled them. “C, D, E, F, G, A, B, C.”

“Excellent, that’s awesome! You’re already a few steps ahead of other beginners,” you nodded approvingly and retrieved the thin booklet you had laid on top of the upper panel. You opened it and sifted through a few of the jingle options, picking out something a bit more intermediate for him.

It was still simple, but definitely more advanced than nursery rhymes. You found teens and adults had a more enjoyable time learning when they didn’t feel like they were being patronized. Teens especially, fickle little creatures, those ones.

“Let’s start with this one, then,” you said as you set it against the music rack in front of him. “It’s pretty easy, I think you’ll pick it up quickly.”

The piece consisted of quarter-note half steps that ignored the sharp and flat keys for now. You had placed a piece of tape over the tempo indicator, finding that it put your students under too much pressure and made them stumble in their rush to follow the pacing they thought was right when they didn’t know what tempo was to begin with.

The man took a few seconds to study the sheet, then placed his fingers on the corresponding keys and began playing.

He was a bit slow, holding some notes too long and others not long enough, but you were correct in thinking he’d get the hang of it fast. After a few runs, he was playing it decently well, and confidently, too.

“Perfect! I knew you’d get it like that,” you snapped your fingers, then picked up the booklet again, flipping the pages in search of something a little more challenging. You probably wouldn’t find it in a kiddie book like this one, so you placed it down and got up, grabbing a more advanced one from the side table nearby. “What got you wanting to learn how to play?”

“Ah,” he scratched the back of his head. “My dad always wanted me to learn as a kid. I finally caved in, if only to make him stop yapping in my ear during family dinners. I’m just twenty years late to the party.”

You burst into giggles as you returned to your place on the bench, placing the new song you had chosen out for him where the previous one had been. “Not the first time I’ve heard that. You’d be surprised how many later bloomers there are.”

He chuckled along with you. “Well, that’s a relief. Had me fearing I was the only fully grown student you’d see in your life.”

“Far from it,” you shook your head. “I teach a grandfather that wants to play for his grandson at his graduation next year. It’s never too late to learn.”

When you looked up at him, you found him already peering at you with those intensely cerulean irises, his sunglasses folded neatly into the collar of his shirt. You twitched, startled by his stare. He had you locked in his gaze, captivated as he observed you and you observed him.

You noticed with wonder and fascination that his lashes were as milky white as the tresses on his head.

He really was beautiful. Those same lashes were long and soft, brushing his high cheeks whenever he blinked. His lips were plush and pink, seemingly always curled up into a permanent smile regardless of size. Life and boyish playfulness darted in those mesmerizing oases that refused to shake their hold on you, and you wouldn’t wish them to.

They were the breath of fresh air you never knew you were deprived of, the nectar of life that was water to your parched throat, the flickering mirage that came to life before your very being.

You felt drawn to him, inexplicably. There was something so… familiar about him, though you couldn’t pinpoint exactly what. Like you’d seen him before, across the metro platform, or walking into the store you were just leaving, or someone walking the opposite direction as you on the crosswalk.

Where have I seen you before?

You blinked yourself out of the illusion, your lips parting, closing, then parting again before you finally managed to find your voice. “I-I’m sorry. I forgot your name, could…could you remind me?”

“Ah,” he shook his head, forgiving your forgetfulness. “Just call me Satoru.”

Just Satoru? Is that really okay?

It doesn’t sound like a name I’ve heard before.

“Alright,” you agreed regardless. “Satoru it is. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” you murmured your own name in return, dipping your head down in a mini bow. You returned your attention to the music sheet, lightly tapping the back of his hand with your pointer finger. “Let’s continue, shall we?”

You noted how much bigger his hands were compared to yours. It was hard not to see it, your index finger would likely barely reach the topmost joint of his if you pressed your palms together.

Your hands tingled at the thought. You quickly shoved it aside, focusing on being a good instructor.

Satoru continued to surprise and impress you as he mastered the tunes you chose for him after trying them out a few times. Each time he made a mistake, he listened attentively as you corrected it, laying your hands over his as you adjusted the positioning of his fingers.

“Your hands are so much bigger than mine,” you snickered. “I’m a bit jealous. It’s hard for me to reach those far keys sometimes.”

“Oh, yeah,” he grinned cockily, flashing you a sultry glance between chords. “They can reach a lot of things very easily.”

Heat rose to your cheeks and you stuttered, whipping your head away and acting as if he hadn’t completely flustered you.

Truthfully, the session was only supposed to last an hour and a half, but when you looked up at the clock, you were shocked to see you were nearing an hour longer than expected. It didn’t feel like much time had passed at all, maybe thirty minutes at maximum. Had it really been that long?

You pushed yourself up, stretching your legs as you felt pins and needles spark up in them. “Seems I got distracted twice today. I’ve kept you for an hour longer than I intended, I’m sorry,” you laughed meekly. “Don’t worry, I won’t charge extra for that, that’s on me.”

“It’s no worry,” Satoru reassured you as he got to his feet as well, delicately closing the fallboard with a careful hand. “Are you sure, though? I don’t mind paying for it, I did take up your time.”

He made something warm form in your chest.

“It’s fine, I love teaching. It’s not my main job, anyway, don’t stress,” you brushed away his concern. “You’re a prodigy, y’know,” you told him as you walked him to the still open door. “It’s no wonder your dad wanted you to learn how to play. I’m sure he’s proud.”

He let out a chuckle that sounded maybe a little forced. “Yeah, hope so,” he responded as he eased his shoes back on and bent down to grab his briefcase. “You’re a great teacher.”

“Thank you,” you brushed your hair behind your ear, blushing. “Ah– when would you want to see me again? I-If you do, I mean.”

The odd firmness he had a moment ago melted away, once more replaced by that handsome smirk of his. “Same time next week? Ah, hang on, why don’t I get your number, just in case? I have a bit of an unpredictable schedule.”

“Oh, sure, no problem,” you assented, taking his phone after he unlocked it and passed it to you. “You don’t like using email?”

He shook his head, watching you punch in your number into a new contact, add your name, then hand it back. “Nah, texting is easier for me. I’ll message you later tonight, yeah?”

“Alright,” you acquiesced.

“Oh, right, how much do I owe you?”

You blinked a few times before recalling that it was technically a paid session, though it didn’t feel like that to you. You murmured out the cost, and he gave you an odd look for a brief second. He pulled out his wallet, counted out a few bills, and folded them in half neatly before passing them off to you.

“Thanks for the lesson,” he grinned and waved goodbye, promising to text you later as he headed down your walkway, turned the corner, and vanished from sight.

You closed the door with a quiet poompf, staring blankly at your piano as you tried to remember how to function again. You glanced down at the bundle of money in your hand when you thought it felt a little too thick, brow furrowing as you unfolded it and counted and holy shit that’s way too fucking much–

You rushed out of your house, down the pathway to the sidewalk, and looked for him, though you knew it was futile. He was already gone.

You tried to think of how you were going to slip the excess money back into his pocket next time you saw him, but as soon as you were inside, you raced to the folder you left on your coffee table, practically ripping it apart as you pulled out all the papers, aggressively uncapped a pen, and got to writing at light speed.

That man, whoever he was, infected you with a painful shot of inspiration that you needed to get off your chest right then and there. Your hand flew across the pages, revising entire sections you had been stuck on for weeks in the blink of an eye. Messy verses were refined, the missing notes floated into place, and by the time the moon had risen high and the timid breeze had turned cold, you had finished your song.

You looked it over one last time, a disbelieving giggle escaping you. You finished it. You finished it. This damned piece had been giving you restless nights, a broken loop in your brain that kept skipping over the unwritten parts, but one session with Satoru had seemingly given you the one push you were missing all along.

Your phone buzzed.

You opened it and tapped on the messages icon to find a text from an unknown number.

Unknown, 9:17 PM Hey! Sorry for texting so late. It’s Satoru. Does next week still work for you, same time?

What divine timing on his end. Right as he entered your thoughts, he slid into your DMs.

Your fingers practically trembled with giddy excitement as you texted back instantly to confirm the time, uncaring of what kind of impression that was making on him. You were elated, feeling like you could exhale in peace at last. You gave a little victory cheer as you went about closing and locking all the windows and doors, pulling the curtains shut with so much energy, you questioned if you’d be able to sleep.

The answer was yes. After you had gotten all ready, having pampered yourself as a small reward for yourself, you fell onto your bed and passed out mere minutes later. For once, everything seemed to be going right.

─────•(-•ʚɞ•-)•─────

“How’d you learn how to play?” He asked one day as he sipped at the tea you prepared for him. He was right about his schedule being hectic at times, but he somehow managed to fit himself into having lessons with you a few times a week, rather than just the standard one.

It surprised you, but pleasantly so. He was eager to learn and improve, and you were more than happy to teach him. He made for fantastic company, too, and you found you enjoyed spending time chatting lazily with him just as much as you did instructing him.

“My grandma taught me,” you told him with a smile. “She passed away a while ago, but I like to think I’m keeping her legacy alive like this, by teaching others, and keeping that old lil’ thing alive.”

Satoru nodded in understanding. “You’re amazing at playing,” he complimented sweetly. “She did a great job.”

“Thank you,” you answered bashfully, hiding your blush behind your own mug of tea.

“What was she like, if you don’t mind me asking?”

His smile felt like the sun kissing the apples of your cheeks on a perfect spring day. Him wanting to know more about you had your heartbeat picking up in speed, chirping a new, happy melody like a canary.

You deliberated before replying. “She was a very shrewd woman, stern in her teaching, but very gentle at the same time. She was the kind of granny that snuck me pieces of candy when my parents weren’t looking. She let me stay up late playing music whenever I was staying at her place. I probably bugged my parents to let me stay there every weekend, just so I could play it and learn from her.”

“So you got into music young?”

You bobbed your head. “I fell in love the first time I heard her playing when I was a toddler. I had woken up from a nap one day, somehow escaped my crib, and crawled to the living room to watch her play for…man, I don’t even know how long. I was just…hypnotized.”

“She sounds like she was a maestro,” he snickered airily, though you knew he meant it.

You grinned widely, resting your chin on the curved cup of your palm. “She really was. I can show you some videos of her playing sometime, if you’d like to see,” you offered.

“I’d love to.”

─────•(-•ʚɞ•-)•─────

Satoru had been your student for a while now.

He zoomed through the intermediate pieces into the advanced-amateur category easily, though seemed to plateau around there. Despite this, he was a wonderful student, always trying to improve himself and his skill. You knew he had it in him, he was only missing a little something he needed to tip him to the next level.

At one point, you had joked that he must have been purposefully holding himself back just so he could keep studying under you.

He laughed, and said nothing more.

By now, he reached a point where he would come in with a pep in his step, claiming he had perfected a lullaby he wanted to play for you before you started the session. You’d find yourself (politely) seated on your couch nearby, and would watch with a fond expression you didn’t know was there as he treated your piano with a touch more tender than even your own.

And you’d listen. He’d choose some of the prettiest, albeit not complicated, arrangements to play for you, and you’d find yourself slipping into a state of blissful peace. All your thoughts would drift away, and you’d absorb yourself in the music he played.

A few sessions had been spent just like that, with him as your personal musician, and you couldn’t figure out why you felt so…happy.

You liked the emotion a lot, though, and found yourself looking forward to his every visit, anticipating the full body chills you’d get whenever he lulled you into that state of delighted serenity. You didn’t remember when you stopped charging him, and when you let him come in without knocking anymore.

You also didn’t remember when having tea after each session became tradition, but you were grateful for the joy he brought you with his presence alone.

In fact, you decided to get him a small gift as thanks. For what exactly? His company? Patience? Entertainment? Whatever it was didn’t matter. It wasn’t anything big, either. It was a record you stumbled across while visiting a thrift shop recently.

You picked it up for two reasons. First, he divulged he had a hobby of collecting old vinyls. Second, he mentioned he had been searching for that specific record for a few years with no luck, saying it was the last one he needed to complete his collection from that particular brand. The moment you spotted it, you grabbed it and practically bolted to the cashier, uncaring of the price.

There was no way you were leaving it there for someone else to nab it before he could. It was the most reasonable option.

Which was why you were extra giddy to see him again.

You opened the door in the middle of him reaching for the handle, stunning him for a second. That bewilderment was quickly wiped away by an excited grin that surely matched your own.

“If I knew you’d be this enthusiastic to see me, I would have worn something better,” he quipped.

You snorted and waved your hand, stepping back so he could come in. “Am I not allowed to be happy to see my favorite student? You look good no matter what you’re wearing, anyway.”

“Favorite, eh?” He teased as he closed the door behind him, leaning down to give you a quick hug. “Now I really feel like I should have worn something fancy.”

“Oh, come on, it’s not that big of a deal,” you giggled, leading him to the usual spot.

“I dunno,” he hummed, a sly expression crossing his face. “Pretty big deal to hear that from my favorite teacher,” You rolled your eyes, smacking his chest weakly, to which he laughed openly. “Ready to get started, teach?”

What a gorgeous sound his laughter was.

“Actually,” you said, “I got something for you. Wait here a moment, lemme go grab it.”

He raised a brow but didn’t raise any objections as he sat down and tugged his tie to loosen it a few inches, saying that he’d be right there.

You had to resist the urge to skip to your room to locate the record and retrieve it from the drawer you had safely stored it in. It was your sock drawer, actually. You wanted to keep it somewhere protected while it tarried for its new owner. You sang the melody of your newest single quietly as you picked it up, inspecting the album cover for any indication that it had been touched since you last put it in there.

Pristine. Obviously aged, but in flawless condition otherwise.

Sounds from your living room brought pause to your actions right as you closed the drawer after dumping all your socks back into it.

…Was that music?

Frowning, you picked up the record and crept towards the source of the noise. You recognized it instantly – it was the most notable piece written by the notorious Gojo Saichi. It was considered the most difficult composition created within the last century or so. You’d listened to it on repeat occasionally, attempted it dozens of times, though you always fell short before the second movement started, which came early on.

Was Satoru watching a video? No, the melody was too clear and full to sound like it was coming out of a phone speaker.

Then…

You froze in the entrance to the hallway, stuck in place as you watched Satoru play the oeuvre flawlessly. From where you were standing, at an angle, you could see his precise actions and motions. Every note came to him as naturally as air, each shift in tempo as easy as blinking, down to the fragile, silk-like contrast that made the instrument sound as if it was a weeping widow, sitting on a window sill as she descanted to the moon, alone.

His digits knew exactly where to go, when, how deeply to press, how to shift between fierce and floaty as if he was born to do exactly this.

As your eyes flickered from his hands to his face, you saw that his eyes were closed. He was doing what some musicians could only ever dream of achieving in their careers; he was uniting with the music, playing as one, letting it fill his heart, then pour out with every throb like the very blood in his veins.

The most complicated, difficult, astronomical concerto known to man in the modern age, and he was playing it like it was nothing.

Satoru must have sensed your burning gaping as his hues flickered open and his hands stilled over the claviature. He looked over towards you, his mien morphing into something resembling embarrassment.

You staggered closer. “That…that’s…that piece was…written by Gojo Saichi…” You mumbled, barely able to get the words out. You set down the record onto the coffee table, already having forgotten about it.

You were flabbergasted, rattled as you came to a stop at the side of the piano. He…how could he have played that so well? Wasn’t he barely in the advanced category? That was…that was professional, grade A, genius level music he played.

“Yeah,” he grinned, and you would have believed his show of being sheepish if the gleam in his eyes didn’t give him away. “He’s my dad.”

You sluggishly dropped onto your spot on the bench, peering at the keys but seeing nothing as you unpacked the bombardment of information you witnessed.

“That’s…the– that’s the hardest piece…even I can’t…”

“I know,” he rubbed his nape. “He basically forced me to stay up day and night playing it until I got it right.”

“But…how?” You tilted your head, peering up at him from the corner of your eye.

Satoru shrugged like he hadn’t just dropped a fucking bombshell on you. “I asked him to teach me when I was a teen,” You heard him say. “I’m sorry for deceiving you,” he apologized, not sounding very sorry at all.

“I…” You labored to find the right words. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Honestly?” He asked. You nodded, and he let out a heavy sigh.

Instead of answering immediately, he stood up and pulled you to your feet as well, pulling you into the kitchen, where he filled your kettle with water and put it to heat up.

You desperately wanted to know what exactly was going on, but couldn’t find it in yourself to rush him. He went about methodically picking out both your mugs from your cupboard, tossing a bag of tea into both, grabbing the bowl of sugar on the counter, and setting it all down on the table while he waited for the kettle to whistle. He seemed lost in thought, while you had many and none at all at the same time.

You could only observe him as he picked his words carefully.

He finally began when the shrill noise of boiling water filled the room. “I don’t know if you remember – probably not, since you didn’t recognize me – but we actually did meet a while ago. I was a lot different back then,” he said as he poured the water into both mugs, afterwards placing it back on the stove and holding his hand sideways at roughly chest level. “Maybe this high, scrawny, kind of a douchebag,” he admitted with a chuckle.

You were still in shock over the whole situation. All you could do was silently urge him to continue by leaning closer, accepting the cup when he passed it to you. Heat spread through your fingertips, easing away the frosty feeling you didn’t notice set in.

“You were playing the piano in the music room at the school we went to together. It was…honestly, beautiful. I grew up with a famous pianist for a dad, but even he can’t make music sound as alluring and gentle as you can,” he continued, awkwardly holding his own mug. “So, when I saw you again a few months ago, I couldn’t believe it was you. I always wanted to ask you to play something for me when we were younger, but could never get the nerve to.”

As he spoke, the memories were beginning to filter in through the thick haze in your brain.

You were so focused on writing music and learning to be a great musician like your grandmother that you never really paid attention to your surroundings or the people around you if they weren’t your granny, parents, direct friends, or music teacher.

From what you did remember, Satoru was always a confident, cocky boy, shameless and loud. To hear he was…shy about asking you to play for him was hard to believe.

“So, I finally let my dad start teaching me,” he rambled on when you didn’t respond. “I’ve tried so many times to replicate the song you played, but I could never get it right. I know it’s probably a long shot, but you don’t happen to remember what song that was, do you?”

You thought back, scraping the dust off your highschool recollections. There was one piece you had hyperfocused on perfecting during the last year there, determined to play it exactly as your grandmother had.

You never did manage to master it.

You set down the tea you had only sipped at twice and walked past him into the living room, heading to your piano in a sort of trance. You slid onto the bench, and set your fingers on the keys. Muscle memory took over, the gentle tune coming to life in…how long had it been since you last played this?

You let the music flow through you, gave it access to your heart, allowed it to peer into the deepest parts of your soul, and simply followed the path it created.

“Was it this one?” You asked quietly.

When you looked up at him, his eyes were wide, lips parted as he stared at you with nothing less than amazement. “That– that’s the one. Which– what’s it called?”

“It’s a piece my grandma wrote for my parent’s wedding,” you answered. “She didn’t tell me what it’s called. I’m not sure if it has a name to begin with. She played it for me once, and I,” you huffed out a short, choked chuckle, “I became obsessed. I spent every day as a senior trying to get it right, to play it like she did, but…”

Your fingers slowed into a stop as you looked at them blankly, recalling your attempts, and the disappointment that followed each failure. You memorized it after playing it just twice, but it didn’t help you reach your goal in the end.

You startled when his hand rested lightly atop of yours, his body partially leaned over your shoulder so he could look you directly in the eye. This close, you felt his light breaths as they brushed your cheek. You could see the exact shade and hue of the teal composing his striking irises, match the exact pace of his heartbeat to a sonata, hear him swallow nervously.

“Keep playing,” he rasped, sounding almost desperate. “Please.”

You obliged. How could you say no to him when he looked at you like that? When he requested it so feebly in a trembling voice that was close to cracking? How could you say no when you saw and felt firsthand how his body relaxed when you filled the room with the lilting melody once again?

The music hopped and glided, playful in some parts, somber and tranquil in others. He stayed right where he was, the heat of his stomach resting against your upper back, thawing the tension in your shoulders as his hands held them gently, thumbs rubbing circles into your tight trapezius.

In every way, the ballad reminded you of your grandma, of your parents, of your childhood spent trying to reach a point where you were truly happy with how you played each note.

But, if that was the case…

How come you saw Satoru’s eyes when you closed yours and listened to your own hands dance across the keys?

Why did his smile, his laugh, his touch, his voice, his everything, come to mind when you picked apart every stanza and bar? If you put together all the notes a specific way and decoded them, you swore they’d spell his name.

Your hands drifted and halted as you reached the end of the lilt.

Or, rather, the end as you knew it.

There was a brief pause, then he mumbled, barely above a hum, “is that it?”

“Grandma never showed me how it ended,” you told him morosely. “She said she’d tell me ‘when the time is right’, but…she died before she could.”

He sat beside you and took your right hand into his. His fingers massaged meaningless shapes into the creases of your palm and the smooth plane of the dorsum. Neither of you dared break the silence, mulling in your own worlds.

Satoru was the one to cautiously cross the line of quiet, doing his best to not disturb it. He wrapped his left arm around your back, pulling you into his side while continuing to toy with your dainty digits.

“We’ll find it together,” he whispered.

─────•(-•ʚɞ•-)•─────

Truth be told, you never imagined you’d find yourself in this kind of place before – especially not in this position.

Your hand hovered over your brow, shading your eyes from the brilliant sun as it shined low in the sky, kissing the horizon. Though it was setting, the approaching night was warm as ever. A pleasant breeze ruffled the fabric of your dress and caught the strands of your hair that managed to slip loose from the style your mother put them in.

Stars were already beginning to dot the expanse above, glittering and so, so crystalline when you were this far outside the city. You never thought you’d get to see them so clearly, enough to point out individual constellations, and even identify Jupiter and Venus.

You never had a reason to leave the bounds of the city before, so all this was a distant dream you might have had once when you were a teenager.

But here you were, outside a lovely villa, surrounded by friends, family, and loved ones, miles away from where light pollution would dare to touch. The buzzing, lively chatter of dozens of guests filled the air; the clinks of glasses, the clacks of forks and knives on plates, all of it was so animated. You felt like you were in a sort of daze, overwhelmed with happiness to the point that it almost didn’t feel real.

A pair of soft lips pressed against your temple, drawing your attention to radiant, minty-ocean hues.

Satoru gazed at you with nothing short of pure, raw, true adoration. Like every fiber in his body, each and every singular cell, was dedicated to loving you.

“I have one more present left for you,” he murmured against your lips, giving you a chaste kiss right after before he stood up and raised his glass. He tapped the back of his knife gently on the side, creating a chiming noise that settled the ongoing conversations with ease.

Once all the attention was on him, he set both objects down and began speaking.

“I know we’ve already said it a lot, but I wanted to thank you all again for coming here to celebrate this day with us,” he said, turning his gaze to you. “This is truly the happiest day of my life – so far,” he added cheekily, earning him a laugh from the crowd. “So, before all the festivities end tonight, I wanted to do one last thing, if you’d all be so kind as to grant me this moment.”

Of course they would. Satoru was just that type of person. Charisma poured off him in waterfalls, charming anyone he spoke to without effort – you included.

He pushed back his chair, moving to leave. Confused, you grasped his arm and called his name.

There was a glint of something in his eyes, something you couldn’t identify, not with the light tingle of wine sitting in the back of your mind and the overstimulation of the grand day.

“Just listen, baby,” he whispered to you, then he was weaving through the guests, snaking his way to the grand piano situated off to the side of where everyone was situated. “This is a little song I heard many, many years ago, and fell in love with from the first few notes. I’d like to dedicate it to my mother-in-law, father-in-law, their late mother, and I would like to especially dedicate it to my lovely wife.”

Your mother gasped, grabbing your arm as soon as Satoru began playing the familiar melody of the diapason you had been taught ages in the past. It was the one your grandmother played for you, just once. It was the one she played for your mother and father for their wedding. It was the one you played for Satoru, once unknowingly, and every time after that intentionally.

The one he was playing for you now.

Your mother teared up faster than you did, reaching for a clean napkin to dab her eyes with while she waved her free hand at her face, trying to stave off the tears so that they didn’t smear her mascara, though she wasn’t succeeding. Your father was gently shushing her, rubbing her shoulder while he looked between you and Satoru with pride, and you…

You recalled the first time you heard him play the composition his father had written, when you still believed he was just an advanced player. Back then, you felt entranced.

Now, you felt completely spellbound.

You lifted yourself, carefully making your way between the enchanted spectators. Some clutched and squeezed your hand as you passed, and a few others breathed out little congratulations to you, not risking breaking the delicate atmosphere.

By the time you made it to him, your vision was blurry, and he was playing the last line of bars.

The arrangement floated into the placid, halcyon evening, each individual note rising like a star to join the thousands that looked on with bated breath, protecting this little moment of clement apotheosis.

His hands swept across the final few steps, barely touching the keys at all. The concluding tone resounded, fragile and silk-like, followed by a second of calm silence before the crowd erupted with cheers, hoots, and deafening applause.

Satoru rose from the bench, encircling your waist with his arms and pulling you in for a deep kiss. It echoed in you, the sweetest lullaby, the happiest composition that could never be written down identically. It was one only the two of you could hear and feel, one only the two of you could dance, live, cry, laugh, breathe, and love to.

Of all the endings you ever tried to give that precious lullaby your grandmother had written so long ago, the one Satoru created was perfect.

Because you created it together.

─────•(-•ʚɞ•-)•─────

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