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hyunjilicious · 4 years

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one more drink [henry cavill - one shot]

Summary: you and Henry attend a fancy party and you decide to be a brat and push his buttons to see what happens. 0,1% plot. SMUT. 3.5k. filth :) feedback makes my day, so maybe tell me what you thought?

“Why don’t you put that drink down, hm?”

His voice was loud and clear, lips mere inches away from your ear as he secured his arms around your waist to get you to stop dancing.

You were ready to sink into him, but as soon as you saw his intention was to grab the glass out of your hand, you pulled back, and turned to him with a disappointed frown, “Not a chance, Cavill”

“Don’t call me that” he sighed, his head falling to the side, “How much have you had to drink?”

“Not enough” you pouted, nonchalantly bringing your alcoholic beverage to your lips, looking lewdly into his eyes as you took a big sip, “And apparently neither have you”

Had he not been grinning that widely, you would’ve seriously believed he was mad at you. His frown was consuming your entire being, and the cold stare plastered on his eyes begged you to not push his buttons - at least not when there were so many people around, “Why don’t you give me that?” he encouraged, pointing to your tall glass.

You looked down and noticed your perfectly manicured hand and fresh bubbles that were still present in your beverage. In the inebriated state that you were, the aesthetic blew your mind. Without thinking twice, you pulled out your phone with your free hand and opened the instagram app, determined to post it on your story.

The light of the flash reflected beautifully against the intricate design of the glass, but the picture did not turn out as expected.

Just when you pressed the button to capture the image, Henry’s hand grabbed your wrist, snatching the phone out of your hand, “Are you dead set on pissing me off?” he questioned in a low tone, his ice blue eyes pinning you in place.

“I don’t get what the problem is” you whined, waving your hands around your body. Your eyes traveled around the room, scanning the atmosphere, “You think I’m embarrassing you or something?”

“Embarrass me, no? What?” Henry cringed, “But you’re crossing some lines”

“I’m just letting loose”

“Too loose if you ask me” he frowned.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Henry grabbed your waist, and effortlessly spun you around until your back slammed against his chest. He lowered his head over your shoulder, “I’ll let you figure it out”

In front of you, the party was in full swing. People were dancing, chatting, drinking their night away, and in your eyes, there was no problem with that, “Use your words, Cavill, I don’t get it”

“One-” he said in a deeply dominating tone, making all the hairs on your body stand up, “Don’t call me that, and two, I could make you a list of all the men in this room that think about fucking you as we speak, and the fact that you can’t tell who they are, means you drank to much”

There was an internal battle going on inside your mind. The way he put you in your place forced a lump to block your throat, but it would be a lie to say you didn’t enjoy the moment.

“I think you’re pushing it a little” you said, pulling away from his hold and turning to face him.

Henry narrowed his eyes, “If I leave, they’ll swarm around you”

“Then don’t”

“Let’s go sit somewhere” he suggested, nodding his head to the side of the room, where a few arm chairs were available.

“After you” you agreed, and he happily took your hand.

Henry led you to the sitting area, contempt thinking he won this round. But you just saved your cards for later.

When you reached your destination, Henry sat down and opened his arms, motioning for you to sit in his lap. However, you just grabbed his hands, and started swaying to the unfamiliar beat of the song that was playing, arching your back and lowering yourself in front of him.

“You have no idea what you’re asking for” Henry chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief.

“I’m asking for you to have some fun!” you belted.

“This is your idea of fun?”

“Dancing?” you asked, playing dumb, “Yes”

Henry leaned to the side. He propped his elbow on top of the arm rest, bringing his hand up to rub his chin, “Sit down”

“Yes, daddy” you eventually said, knowing just how little patience he had left.

His arms instantly wrapped around your middle, his breathing aggravated by the way you managed to rile him up. And, determined to do more, you started rolling your hips back and forth against his thighs, managing to apply just the tiniest bit of pressure to his crotch.

“The fuck’s gotten into you, hm?” Henry snapped. His hold around you tightened, shaking your entire frame. “Why are you acting like this?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about” you rolled your eyes, bringing your glass up to your lips and scanning the room as you sipped your drink.

It was only a matter of time until he’d drop this overly patient facade. “Look at me when I’m talking to you” he commanded, sinking his fingers into your bare thigh.

“Ouch!” you pouted, despite pain being the last thing on your mind.

“So? The fuck is going on with you, hm?”

“Nothing’s going on with me, you just need to learn how to have fun!”

“Whoring around is your idea of having fun?” he fumed.

You thought about it for a second, and the nodded, fairly convinced, “Could be, yeah”

“Behave for 15 minutes” Henry nodded, his smile giving away just how sure he was you were never going to achieve that, “And then we’ll dance”

“That’s it?” you scoffed, and as soon as he responded - with a smile nod, you breathed out satisfied, “Deal”

Clear as day, he was waiting for you to cave. Henry leaned back in his chair, and with his head hanging playfully to the side, he kept his eyes trained on you. With absolutely no intention to make this easy for you, his burning gaze made your blood boil. Oh, how the tables have turned.

You took another sip of your drink and then pulled out your phone, counting on Instagram to make the minutes pass faster. And maybe it would have been able to, with out of the corner of your eye you could see him. Black dress shirt hugging his body in a way that was so much more vulgar than any dance you could have come up with.

A video was playing on your phone, two puppies rolling down a hill, yet your eyes drifted instantly to the side. Pretending to pay attention to the screen, you watched Henry trace the rim of his glass with his pointer finger. Your eyes traveled along his forearm and you could’ve sworn you actually felt your heart skip a bit when you noticed just how sloppily he rolled up his sleeves.

“I swear-” you sighed, eyes trained on the ceiling as you shook your head in disbelief, “You never looked hotter.”

“What was that, love?” Henry mumbled, bouncing one of his legs up for the sole purpose of messing with you.

“How much time passed?” you whined.

“A little bit over a minute, darling” he responded proudly.

You were fuming. “I’ll go get another drink, want something?”

As soon as he nodded no, you were out of there. Forcing your way through the sea of people, you eventually reached the bar, and even in the dried up smoke infused air of the room, you finally felt like you were able to breathe properly. With your competitive side on full display, as you waited for your drink to be ready, you gave yourself the epitome of a pep talk. With your arms crossed over the wooden surface of the bar, you soaked up the possibilities. At this point, you still weren’t sure whether you wished to prove to him that you’d be able to keep calm, or whether you wanted him to give in first.

The answer to this dilemma came in the form of a model looking 20 something year old man - the golden curls that framed his sculpted features and the seductive grin he decided to use as an introduction, were everything you needed. Dropping the nice girl act you didn’t even bother too much to adopt, you responded to the stranger with an overly sweet smile, and nonchalantly dragged him to the dance floor without exchanging as much as two words.

After finally settling face to face, you started dancing. Not keen on getting too close to him, but also knowing that was what you needed to get on Henry’s nerves, you decided to explain yourself, “Listen, I need to ask you something-” you yelled over the music, leaning against his chest to get as close to his ear as possible.

The man circled an arm around your waist, as he bowed his head with a smile on his lips, eager to listen to what you had to say.

“I know it didn’t seem like it, but I’m here with my boyfriend”

He instantly tensed up, but you continued. This time you pressed yourself against him, and lowered your voice, “You wouldn’t mind helping me get his attention, would you?”

He looked you up and down, “What are you offering?”

Knowing full well that Henry was probably already thinking about intervening, you decided there was no reason to hold back. “What’s on your mind?”

“Think he’d be into a threesome?”

The thought made you gag, but you played it nicely. “Depends on how convincing you are”

“He shared you before?”

As he asked this, you found it incredibly hard not to burst into laughter, as that was probably the last thing on earth Henry would ever do, but that was not what the man needed to hear.

“Yeah, but he’s usually reluctant when it comes to strangers, you know?”

How he didn’t figure out you were bluffing shall forever remain a mystery.

“Ok, ok” he nodded, licking his lips, “Let’s talk to him”

As you turned around to look in your boyfriend's direction, the man placed his right hand on the small of your back, ready to walk wherever you’d guide him. However, not even a step needed to be taken, as Henry was already marching towards you.

The crowd of dancing souls parted for him to pass. His eyes ablaze, he reached the two of you in no time. Henry didn’t waste no time paying attention to you, instead he went straight to the blonde haired guy standing beside you.

“Get your hands off of her, or I’ll break both your arms”

And the threat wouldn’t have been nowhere near as menacing if Henry wasn’t a head taller, and his shoulders twice as broad the man’s he approached.

“Listen dude-” the stranger tried to defend himself despite the pure terror that coated his features.

“Want me to break your teeth in too and don’t know how to fucking ask?”

“Jesus I just-”

“Beat it” Henry scoffed, grabbing the man’s shoulder to spin him around. He was probably ready to kick his ass too had the stranger not ran off, steam coming out of his heels.

Instantly, Henry turned around to face you, the anger in his eyes making all the hairs on your body stand up. He didn't even bother to look at you, his stare trained somewhere in the distance, as he grabbed your arm.

"Henry, I-"

"You kind of lost your right to say anything, don't you think?" he groaned.

As soon as he finished his question, he looked down, his cold eyes finally meeting yours.

You opened your mouth to speak, but eventually decided against it. And he probably appreciated the fact that you didn't bitch any further, not that it would have made any difference at this point.

Without exchanging another word, Henry forcibly grabbed you by the arm, and dragged you from the dance floor. Despite finding it hard to keep up with his pace considering your attire wasn't made for rushing places, you again decided to keep your mouth shut.

You knew what was coming and there was no reason to ask any questions. It was what you planned all along, after all.

In a matter of seconds, you two reached the bathroom of the bar. Not even bothering to be civil about it, Henry kicked the door open with his foot, managing to catch the attention of everyone nearby.

You walked inside after him, didn't even get a chance to worry about the people already inside, as all that was needed to get them to hurry out of the room was the cold death stare Henry didn't bother to hide.

The girl that was reapplying her makeup in the mirror was the last to scatter out of the bathroom, and by the time she reached the door, Henry’s tie was already off and the first five buttons of his shirt undone.

Panting in anticipation, you found yourself leaning against the tiled wall, afraid to make the wrong move. When you were finally left alone, the sound of the bathroom door lock clicking was what forced your heart into overdrive.

“You proud of yourself?” Henry questioned, as he walked slowly in your direction, his tie stretched to the extreme in his hands.

“You’re the one who caved” you said and it was the last straw.

“Turn around” he commanded, nodding his head in the direction of the wall.

Despite not being anything less than riled up and aroused, you still hesitated.

What got you to move was the next step he took towards you. As if under a spell, you spun around on your heels, and prompted your hands against the smooth surface of the wall. However, Henry had other plans. In one swift but rough motion, he grabbed your wrists, pinning them up, against the vertical pipe that ran from the floor all the way up to the ceiling. Effortlessly, he bound your hands together, fastening them into place.

To no avail, you tried to bring them lower for better support, but the tie was so tightly wrapped that your blood barely had any place to pass.

“Can you-”

“Nope” Henry said, with a bit too much enthusiasm in his voice.

He lowered his head over your shoulder and spoke directly against your cheek, “Is it uncomfortable? Does it hurt your wrists?”

You nodded.

“Good” he concluded, along with an ardent slap against your ass.

The stinging sensation made you grit your teeth and suck in a deep breath. Just knowing this was only the beginning made your core burn with desire, and involuntarily, you pressed your thighs together, hoping that some pressure would alleviate the aching sensation that radiated all across your body.

With no remorse, Henry shoved his foot between your high heels, forcing your legs apart, “None of that, ok?”

“Fuck” you grunted, letting your forehead fall against the wall in front of you.

Completely out of your sight, Henry’s actions were unknown. However, the sound of his belt being unbuckled was crystal clear, as it echoed around the room. It was the only sound you were able to register. Not even your convulsive breathing had any importance.

Following this, the night reached a pace you found it really hard to keep up with. After Henry hiked up your black tight dress over your ass, your mind started blurring out every detail.

In a second, your lace underwear had pooled by your feet, and you were left completely exposed.

You didn’t have any time to feel your cheeks burn before the tip of his cock reached our entrance. He didn’t waste time probing you. After raking his nails across your scalp, Henry grabbed a fistful of your hair, and pulled hard. When your head fell back, he slammed his cock all the way inside of you.

A deep guttural moan rooted in absolute pleasure ripped your whole body in half. Your throat stung at the sensation that rushed to you. He was not far behind, his own pleasure - pure physical, consumed him.

Henry rolled his hips into yours with more aggression by the second, each time pulling his cock almost all the way out. With every passion infused slam of his body against yours, your whole frame rocked forwards, putting an immense strain on your shoulders.

Sinful, choked back moans burned your throat.

“Is this what you wanted, hm?” Henry taunted, his calloused fingers forcing your chin up. “To be fucked like a slut in a random bathroom?”

You just squeezed your eyes shut and sucked on your bottom lip, hoping it would be good enough of an answer.

“Didn’t hear that” he shook his head, forcing his cock balls deep inside your pussy, “Use your words, pet”

You swallowed thickly, digging your nails into your probably already bloody palms, “Yes”

“Yes, what?” Henry let your chin go for just a second, before returning with a wanton smack against your cheek, “Yes what, baby?”

“Yes…” you wailed, chest aching with every word, “I wanted you to fuck me”

Visibly unsatisfied with your answer, Henry let go of you, moving his hands to lay on your hips. His grip was steady and merciless, guiding your body for his own pleasure now.

“You think good girls get fucked like this?” he rasped, his voice breaking halfway through the sentence. No matter what he said or how he said it, he was just as weak for you as you were for him, and it showed.

“You had to act like a whore the whole evening, didn’t you” Henry chuckled in disbelief. “Might as well take my cock like one now, right?”

As he spoke, numerous smacks, varying in intensity consumed the sensitive skin of your ass, which was doomed to be left bruised and battered.

“Yes” you cried, “Yes…”

“You know daddy always gives you what you ask for” he said, “Especially when that means I get to use you like the set of holes that you are”

“Fuck, fuck… Henry-” you cried, arching your back and forcing your hips back against him.

“Use that cunt to suck the cum out of my cock”

“Fucking god” you shook your head, the ecstasy of the moment overwhelming all your senses. The frustration of not being able to rub your clit and alleviate the pain translated into a plethora of moans and screams. “Please, please- I’m close, I’m-”

“No, baby girl” Henry commanded, sinking his fingers into your hips, “I cum first, hold it”

“I can’t fucking hold it!” you yelled, covering your face into your shoulder.

“Try harder, angel”

“Fuck”

Multiple layers of unshed tears coated your eyes as you struggled to keep your body under control, but your knees were already shaking. Palms wet and trembling legs - you were already too far gone.

“I can’t-” you shook your head in desperation, “I’m gonna cum”

“Think twice, darling” Henry taunted, delivering one last blow to your ass, that along with the merciless pounding he kept up, managed to send you over the edge.

Your mind turned to blur as you fell spiraling into an earth shattering orgasm, your body spasming uncontrollably. Your muscles had a mind of their own, as you enjoyed the feeling of his cock spreading your pussy open until it completely consumed you.

“Henry, please, I-” you cried, panting desperately as not even standing up seemed like an easy task for you.

With your body turned to jelly into his arms, you somehow managed to find still find pleasure in the way he kept fucking your overly sensitive pussy.

“Never fucking listen do you-” Henry called with audible disappointment in his tone.

His question was cut short by a grave groan that forced its way out of his throat. His thrusts became sloppy and irregulated, deep and forced by the orgasm that soon ended up consuming his self control.

He kept going, allowing your cunt to milk every last drop of cum, not stopping until he didn’t have the power to move anymore. His body collapsed against yours, trapping you between his massive frame and the cold bathroom wall.

In a haze, he pulled out and undid the knot that had your wrists bound together. Weak in your knees, you stumbled to the sink, leaning against the marble garniture as your breathing was just now starting to return to normal.

With his pants pulled up but still undone, Henry came up behind you, engulfing you in a loving hug.

“I’m sorry” you whispered.

“Why?” he asked, slightly concerned.

“I came when you told me not to-”

“Oh god” Henry laughed out loud, before lowering himself to kiss your neck, “You didn’t listen to a word I said the whole night, and that’s what stuck with you?”

You couldn’t help but smile, “You still love me though”

“I fucking adore you, angel” Henry shook his head, “Next time just maybe don’t make me traumatize some poor guy”

Continuing with the small talk, you two got dressed, and prepared to get out of the bathroom.

“You know he wanted a threesome?” you said as you fixed your hair and makeup in the mirror.

“Ha!” Henry laughed, before his face turning dead serious, “Never”

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masterwords · 3 years

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On the Shore of Memory

Notes: So I guess I asked for Hotchreid prompts earlier and @olivinesea offered me a gardening accident and all of a sudden I've had a beer and pumped out almost 3.2k words of pure Hotch whumpy gardening domestic fluff. So, hey, here it is.

“Please do not feel like you need to actually finish our garden, Aaron,” Savannah said soft and stern, Hank squirming in her arms as she walked him to the car. Morgan was already waiting in the driver seat, adjusting where he sat, the music, the temperature. She'd shown them the plans when Hotch inquired, pointed out the mound of dirt and the waiting rose and peony bushes, the cinder blocks half finished and Morgan's detailed blueprints. At first he'd only seemed curious, but by the end she'd pieced together that he intended to finish the work while they were away. It wouldn't bother her to come home to a finished garden, she'd wanted to pay someone to build it but Morgan had insisted they could do it, completely disregarding the very small issue of having a rambunctious toddler who insisted on having his parents' undivided attention and didn't care much about whether a garden bed was built in his yard. Now if it had been a swing set or a slide, he might feel differently, but this was a garden and it just meant another area of the yard that he wouldn't be able to play in so his indifference had given way to outward displays of hostility.

“I don't get to garden anymore,” Hotch said and his features were solemn, it was just a flash before he covered it up. Reid and Morgan both heard the shift, felt it in their guts and they exchanged knowing glances over ghosts long since buried but still haunting the corridors of Hotch's psyche. “It would be a pleasure.” He perked up at that, and Savannah sucked in a deep breath and nodded, finally giving in.

“Okay. Only if it's no trouble, and if it doesn't get done...”

“C'mon honey, we've gotta get on the road...” Morgan groaned, revving the engine a little playfully. Reid stepped closer to Hotch and slipped his arm around the other man's waist, beaming at the happy family setting out on a road trip to the coast. Their first, and Hotch knew that Morgan had had the car detailed inside and out before the trip but they'd be coming back with all of the sand from the beach ground into the seats and the carpets and he smiled, remembering the days fondly. Jack was a newly minted teenager now and he had far cooler things to do than play at the beach with his father. He wanted to take trips up to New York City to visit uncle Sean, the decidedly cooler (and younger) Hotchner brother according to Jack. He wanted to go to concerts that were far too loud for Hotch's sensitive ears to handle anymore and play video games online with his friends, very few things his father could or would do. This week he'd been invited to his friend's lake cabin and they had a boat and Jack was going to learn to waterski and he would fish and these were all things Hotch would have liked to do with him if he'd had the time or the strength anymore. He was glad Jack had friends who took him along, gave him the experiences he wouldn't otherwise have but it didn't stop him from missing him terribly the moment they drove away. His apartment was so quiet anyway, but without Jack it was cold and dreary and he couldn't do anything but think about having only five years left with Jack in those walls. Time was cruel and it was too much to bear. When Reid told him he'd be spending the week house sitting for Morgan and Savannah, Hotch said he might pop in here and there but the loneliness got the better of him and he packed a bag for the week. Reid couldn't have been more excited.

“Don't let Reid burn my house down,” Morgan called to Hotch with a wink as they pulled out of the driveway and sped away. Reid scoffed.

“I wasn't planning on cooking anyway,” Reid muttered and Hotch chuckled, shaking his head. He leaned over, pressed a soft kiss to Reid's temple and raised his hand to wave goodbye to the Morgans.

The garden came together slowly over the course of the week in the late evening light after work. It was slow and steady, piling cinder blocks one by one and shoveling dirt until the mosquitoes got to be too much to bear and then they would sit on the deck with the fancy bug repelling lamps Morgan swore by (but Hotch very much doubted the efficacy of as he scratched incessantly at a very swollen bite on his wrist) sipping wine or tea, depending on the way the night felt. They were both still working every day but some part of it felt a little like a vacation, they'd never lived together before and were finding quickly that they fell in rhythm with one another almost seamlessly. Talk had turned more than once to the idea of them moving in together, maybe soon, maybe after Jack left for college. The way their relationship just felt easy and simple, the way they maintained their separateness but craved the togetherness was something neither had experienced before. Their favorite parts were when they sat outside, side by side, holding hands and enjoying the evening as it blanketed them in peace.

Saturday morning brought blindingly bright sunlight and a to-do list a mile long to prepare for the family's arrival home the next day. They had a garden to finish and a house to clean after a week of living in its walls, but they paused long enough to make a big breakfast and lounge with their coffees well into the late morning. Reid talked about how they could both retire and go live in a cabin alone somewhere surrounded by bookshelves and coffee, no internet, no telephone, just one room, an overstuffed couch and a fireplace. He had always been partial to a good wingback chair but he was, he'd found, tired of sitting alone and had grown rather accustomed over the last week to sitting with Hotch's feet kicked up on his lap while they read or, if Hotch was particularly tired and didn't want to read, he would lay his head on Reid's thigh and doze off while Reid lost himself in a book or two. He no longer wanted anything more in life than a couch to share with Hotch, and Hotch thought it sounded romantic (if not a little impractical, where would Jack sleep when he visited?).

The afternoon sun beat down on them hard and they regretted the decision to lounge away the cool morning hours. Reid's unruly curls were plastered to his forehead and Hotch could feel sweat trickling down his spine, collecting at the small of his back as he shoveled the last of the dirt into the garden bed. Reid was hauling rose and peony plants, the blueprints memorized down to the smallest measurement. Hotch didn't think Savannah would have minded a little off-roading, a little creative flourish here and there but Reid insisted on following the blueprints to a T because Morgan had worked so hard on them and so they did.

“Ow!” Reid cried out, pulling his hand to his chest. Hotch could see the bright red blood dripping down his wrist before he knew what had happened, and he thought he heard Reid hiss a curse word or two under his breath before standing up to examine the gash on his palm courtesy of a thorn from the rose bush.

“Do you know where the first aid kit is?” Hotch asked, standing up, the popping in his knees a symphony of age. Reid nodded and jumped down from the bed, kicking a cloud of dirt up behind him as he made way for the house. Hotch watched when a cinder block started to fall where Reid had loosened the dirt as he jumped down, and instinctively he bent down to reach for it, catch it before it tumbled to the ground and let a cascade of dirt and mulch out with it, negating hours of hard work. His fingers grappled for the bottom of it and he stopped it just above the ground. With it came a sickening pop that he felt first deep in his lower back and then it shot fire down into his calves, up into his shoulders and the breath was knocked out of him as if he were suddenly in a vaccuum. He felt sick and saw stars. He dropped to his knees but struggled still to push the block back into place, he'd be damned if he was going to hurt himself and not get the job done all in one fell swoop. The pain was blinding when he heaved the block back against the dirt, pushing with muscles that were crying out in agony, spasms like he'd never experienced and finally satisfied with where the block wound up, he struggled to straighten his back, placed his palms flat on his thighs and pressed his tailbone downward.

“Hotch?” Reid called out, skipping quickly across the yard with his bandaged hand. “Are you okay?” he asked, approaching slowly, fearing something awful had happened in the moments he'd been away. His eyes were closed and Reid could see he was breathing shallow, shaky breaths that caught in his throat and rattled around between whimpers and groans. He was lost in his head, swirling on another plane of existence that felt like nothing but pain. Reid pulled out his phone, ready to dial 911, afraid Hotch was having a heart attack or something awful but Hotch shot his arm out, cupped Spencer's phone desperately in his hand and shook his head, a movement instantly regretted as his entire spine lit up like an airstrip.

“My back,” he gasped. He laughed nervously, he wasn't sure why and it hurt terribly as it shook through his angry muscles, but the laughter released the tears he had been fighting, holding back precariously and Reid dropped to his knees before Hotch. He put his hands to Hotch's face and used his thumbs to wipe away the tears that streaked down his cheeks, angry and sticky through the dirt. Held his face while he cried and laughed like a mad man. “It's just my back,” he whispered and Reid nodded.

“How can I help?” Reid asked, and he listened to Hotch struggle to catch his breath, to sit absolutely still until he could ask for ice. Spencer helped him stand up, walk slowly to the chairs on the deck and after he'd procured an ice pack and gotten Hotch as comfortable as he could sitting straight up in the chair, they had a good laugh over how he'd resembled Boris Karloff and his stiff Frankenstein walk. Hotch had called him Frankenstein, Reid corrected him quietly and a little sheepishly, reminding him that it was only The Monster, Frankenstein was the doctor. Hotch knew that but It hurt to talk, he didn't argue just conceded. It was distracting enough that Hotch was glad to listen to Reid or have a small discussion, as long as they weren't talking about how he felt, because all he felt was old and pitiful.

“It's beautiful!” Savannah cried, opening the sliding glass door to let her entire family pile out into the backyard. It startled the two men seated on the deck, they hadn't expected the family home that evening. She and Morgan looked exhausted, and Hank had never seemed more awake. Morgan sat in the chair beside Hotch and mumbled about how Hank had fallen asleep just before they got to the hotel they were going to stay at for the night, and they were so exhausted and done with the trip already that they'd decided to just drive straight through and hope for the best. Hank had slept until they were just a few blocks from home and they knew he might never go to bed that night but the allure of being home had been worth it. Savannah examined the garden and gushed over what a great job they'd done and Morgan quietly thanked them because it was silly of him to have thought he'd ever finish it in the first place.

“You okay Hotch?” Morgan asked, raking his hands back over his head distractedly. Hotch opened his mouth to speak, but Reid took it for him, patted him on the leg and Hotch smiled gratefully.

“He hurt his back,” Reid said, pointing to the cinder block that was slightly ajar. Hank had found it, was digging in the dirt behind it and Morgan pieced it together with a painful grimace.

“Damn,” Morgan muttered, shaking his head. “I'm sorry man. Savannah'll fix you up good before you guys head out. Hey, baby!” he hailed her, explained what had happened and as tired as she looked she jumped into action. Hotch protested, said he was fine, just sore and it was entirely his fault and he just needed to go home and sleep but she insisted on sending him home with all sorts of instructions and a few items in a ziplock bag. He would have preferred Reid not say anything but that wasn't how he worked, and maybe he'd be grateful later if any of the things Savannah gave them offered him even a sliver of relief. They ordered pizza for dinner so no one had to cook and Hank made himself at home on Hotch's lap, mostly because he was the only adult who was as sedentary as the chairs themselves. Everyone else busied themselves with setting the table and getting drinks and cleaning up after, but Hotch sat because he couldn't do anything else and Hank piled him high with books and toy cars and talked his ear off. Morgan and Savannah tried to get Hank to play somewhere else, afraid he was hurting Hotch, but Hotch insisted he was fine, in fact he rather enjoyed it and it made him feel useful. While everyone else worked, he could at least keep the little guy occupied and out of the way. He missed when Jack was this age, it made him feel important and needed again.

“Remember when Haley and I brought Jack to the office for the first time?” Hotch mused, and Morgan threw his head back and laughed, nearly snorting his beer through his nose. Savannah looked at him curiously.

“Oh, now I need to know this story...you can't just leave me hanging...”

“Spencer, what was it Morgan said when asked if he wanted to have one?” Hotch asked, a sly smile turning up the corner of his lips. Morgan hid his face in his hands and shook his head.

“Um, Garcia said Don't you want one of these? And Morgan said Mmm, I'll stick to practicing.” It was Savannah's turn to laugh and she hit Morgan playfully on the shoulder, feigning shock at his candor. He just shrugged.

“Hey. That was thirteen years ago, things change...” and then his eyes went wide, he hadn't realized Jack was thirteen, not really. He knew it, knew the boy was big, but it hit him like a ton of bricks just how much time had passed between that day and where he sat now with his wife and his toddler and he couldn't believe it. Silence fell over them and they listened to the crickets chirping in the grass and the sky was being painted in pinks and oranges and bright yellows casting the yard in an ethereal glow. Reid was the first to break the spell.

“We should probably head out, it's going to take me awhile to get Frankenstein's monster here back into his apartment.”

“I'll help,” Morgan offered and Savannah agreed that he should, but Hotch politely declined, it was bad enough that Reid would be fussing over him and he didn't have the willpower put a stop to that but to put Morgan out after he'd been on the road all day was too much to bear. He would break his back to avoid that after hours of being doted on already.

He leaned against Morgan on the walk to Reid's car, Morgan wouldn't accept no for an answer on that one and Hotch agreed if only because he knew Morgan could probably carry him if he thought it best and he wanted to avoid that humiliation if at all possible. He hobbled slowly, unable to lift his feet far off the ground and he leaned heavily into Morgan's arms more than once letting the other man relieve just a little of the pressure, take on his weight. The car ride was silent agony, bucket seat forcing his back into a terrible crunched position. He sat and listened intently to Reid telling him about the lecture he would be giving on Monday and Hotch knew most of the details already because he'd seen it, proofread it and approved it, but he loved to listen to Reid talk. It was one of his greatest joys in life, even if the other man did tend to drone on sometimes endlessly, his voice was soothing and filled with such enthusiasm he couldn't help but be sucked in time and time again.

Lying on his stomach across his bed, both of them more than a little agitated after the rough trek from the car to the apartment, Spencer sat beside him and opened up the arnica gel Savannah had given him. He warmed it between his hands and pressed his palms against the soft curves of Hotch's hips, lithe fingers dancing there at the gentle swell where his hips met his back. He pressed in long lines up and down beside Hotch's spine, heels digging in and pulling the muscles in a straight line, smoothing them outward. He could feel the muscles spasm beneath his palms, listened as Hotch pressed his face into the pillow to muffle his whines, victim of his muscles and their stern objection to the touch that he so desperately wished would just fix everything. Hotch groaned and whimpered under the pressure but as badly as it hurt it also made it feel infinitely better in the moments after only to seize up again. The gel was warm beneath Spencer's touch and left a cooling sensation against the open air.

Spencer kept at it until Hotch whispered for mercy, he couldn't take anymore, it had ceased to feel good and all he wanted was to lay on his heating pad and fall asleep, forget about the day and hope that he felt better in the morning.

Reid helped him get settled and stopped for a moment peering at him sweetly, eyes pleading and Hotch let his hands settle against Reid's hips. He was in bad shape but he was still human and Reid was still gorgeous. Reid leaned close and kissed him, long and languorously, like honey and velvet and decadence, and Hotch could feel the heat on Reid's lips, taste the white wine he'd had with Savannah at dinner. When they separated Hotch smiled and felt a little guilty he couldn't follow the kiss up with anything more but they had plenty of time for that, the rest of their lives if they wanted, and he was satisfied with Reid curling up against him, cheek against his chest. As Reid's eyes drifted shut he was exceedingly glad that they both rented apartments and this type of freak gardening injury was an aberration that wouldn't be repeated anytime in the near future.

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner #spencer reid #criminal minds fanfiction #derek morgan #savannah morgan #hank morgan #SO FLUFF #hotchreid #i'm not gonna lie i almost wrote morgan and hotch kissing like six different times because i kept forgetting it was hotchreid not mortch #WTF BRAIN #i ship hotch and morgan too hard for my brain to follow i guess oops #hotch whump #heid

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monstersandmaw · 4 years

Text

Nonbinary incubus x reader (nsfw)

Edit which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

"Keep the Tumblr stories to around 3k words, Ghosti."

"So how long is this one?"

"Oh... uh..." *shuffles* "...Five and a half thousand?"

Haha, yes, as much as I tried, this one is also a bit longer than I wanted, but, for the third story available for the $5 tier on early release this month, I give you 5.5k words of nb incubus x reader. We also have a new location to add to Starfall Springs, and it's not quite what you might expect for the sleepy little town...

Contents: our incubus would probably have been assigned male at birth but they use they/them pronouns, gender/body neutral reader, erotic dancing, and come-marking if you squint...

This has been up on my Patreon for a week now on early release so it’s time to put it up here on Tumblr.

“I’m sorry, what did you just say?” you asked, blinking at your friend in open-mouthed incredulity. “Starfall Springs has a… strip club?”

The gnoll grinned, the look absolutely feral for just a heartbeat. “Oh yes. The Silkfoot family tried to have it closed down, especially after their youngest son was seen frequenting it, but Sarrigan actually helped to fund it as one of his business ventures after he started up his antiques company… It’s doing really well…”

“Well… I don’t know what to say! I never would have thought that a sweet, sleepy little place like Starfall Springs would have something so…”

Mako’s brows rose - as much as a gnoll’s could, anyway - and he yipped softly in amusement and dug you in the ribs. “We’re definitely going there now for your birthday.”

“Mako, I’ve never… I… I don’t know if it’s my kind of place, you know?”

“Come on, it’s not as if it’s that wild. As you say, it is Starfall Springs after all…”

You swallowed, not entirely sure you believed him, but in the end, you agreed to go.

Your birthday dawned bright and warm, and before any of your friends or family could message or call, you took yourself off to the dinky little harbour in the town to treat yourself to a takeaway breakfast from the bakery, and a coffee from the tiny little cart that made the best damned coffee in the universe. It was something for yourself, and it had become a sacred ritual back in the city. Now, as you strolled through the quiet streets, with nothing but your own footsteps and the whispering promise of the sea at the end of the cobbled lane for company, you smiled. Moving to Starfall Springs had been one of the best ideas you’d ever had.

“Morning!” Khargrin smiled as you stepped into the bakery and inhaled blissfully, eyes fluttering closed for a moment at the sheer gorgeousness of the scent of bread and sugar in the air.

You returned the smile to the enormous orc, and placed your order for two of their fresh pastries.

“Still warm from the oven,” Khargrin chuckled as he slid them into a paper bag for you. “Here.” He frowned slightly. “Anything special about today? You’re earlier than usual,” he asked, still holding onto the bag as you went to take it.

Laughing, you admitted that it was your birthday, and he promptly refused to take any kind of payment.

“I didn’t tell you that so you’d give me free breakfast, Khar,” you groused.

He let go of the bag as if it had burned him and said with such melodramatic flare that a mummer would have been proud of the display, “You’ve touched it now! You have to take it! Get out of my shop, foul human! Begone! And have yourself a wonderful birthday while you’re at it!”

Shaking your head fondly at the big orc’s antics, you accepted but didn’t leave right away.

“Any plans for today?” he asked as he bustled about, stocking the display with goodies from the back.

“Quiet day, I think,” you said, “But Mako has plans for tonight… I’m wary.”

“Knowing that gnoll, it involves Midnight Aurora, doesn’t it?”

“Midnight Aurora?” The name wasn’t familiar to you. “You mean the club over on the north side of town?”

The orc nodded. “Yup. And before you say anything about it, my sister works there…” he added with a twinkle in his eye and a lopsided grin on his handsome face.

“I will think very carefully before I tell you about my reaction to my experiences there then,” you grinned. “Anyway, see you Khargrin.”

“Enjoy your day,” he said. “And your night. And if it involves my big sister at all, I don’t want to know.”

You snorted and headed out into the brightening day. The fresh wind hit you full in the face, bringing with it the sharp tang of iodine from the sea, and you watched two merfolk spiralling through the water like racing dolphins, breaching the surface and sending sparkling droplets spraying up against the side of a moored fishing boat before they cleared the boundary of the harbour and disappeared out into the wider ocean.

“Gorgeous, aren’t they?” a quiet voice said from beside you.

Tearing your eyes from the horizon, you turned to find someone tall and slim standing beside you. With lilac skin, long, silver-white hair, and elegantly-tapering ears, they might have been a tiefling, but you couldn’t see any horns, and something about the intensity of their ruby red eyes made you wonder.

“Mmm,” you hummed noncommittally.

Their gaze flickered to the pastries in your hand and their Cupid’s-bow lips curved into a smile that made your stomach flip over, revealing double canines, both top and bottom. “Khargrin makes the best almond croissants in the whole world,” they commented.

“Just needs one of Sophie’s coffees to go with, and I’m all set for my birthday breakfast,” you blurted unthinkingly.

At that, their eyebrows rose. “It’s your birthday? Happy birthday.”

“Thanks. I’m not sure how I feel about being another year older, but -” you shrugged. “It is what it is.”

“Well, not to be inappropriate, but you look wonderful. May I get you that coffee?”

Were they flirting with you? You weren’t exactly known for being able to read people all that well. You blinked. “You don’t have to do that,” you said, stepping back. “I mean… you don’t even know me.” People in Starfall Springs were just like that, you knew from first hand experience already, but still, it was… unnerving for someone like you from the city.

That blinding smile never flickered, but they did shift a little. Oh. They had a tail. Perhaps they were a tiefling after all. They also had hooves, dark and shiny, visible beneath the wide cuff of their loose, black linen trousers. Looking a little more closely at them, now that you were no longer distracted by that gorgeous, heart-flutteringly beautiful smile, you realised that they wore a sleeveless vest, white, and that their chest was flat and their stomach obviously toned. Their arms too were slim but muscular, and they bore tattoos in geometric patterns from their fingertips right the way up their arms and neck to their earlobes. You swallowed. You’d never met someone so alluring in your whole life and your skin began to tingle.

At that moment, their pupils dilated visibly and they swallowed, long, tapering ears drooping a little. “Never mind,” they said. “I’m being overbearing. I’ll… leave you in peace. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…”

Before you could call after them, or tell them they’d got the wrong idea, they turned around, their long white hair swinging in a thick plait right down their back to their tail, and hurried away. Halfway across the street, a swirl of dark, inky magic enveloped them, and they disappeared completely.

“What the…?” you hissed.

Even Sophie’s amazing coffee didn’t taste quite as good as it usually did, and for the rest of the day, as you picnicked with your friends on the sloping meadow above the Temple, lounging while music played through a little speaker and chocolate frosting melted in the sun, you kept recalling the way those garnet red eyes had turned from warm and playful to achingly sad.

“What’s up with you?” Mako asked, lolling over onto his back with his front paws bent, like a retriever begging for a belly rub.

Affectionately, you reached over and scratched his upper chest, which still made his hind leg kick. His powerful hyena jaws softened and he moaned. “Oh that’s so good,” he moaned. “You give the best scritches.”

“Hey!” came the disgruntled protests of his boyfriend from beside you. You didn’t stop, and he shook his head fondly. “Honestly, it’s probably true. Good job I can do other things to you, huh?”

Mako growled playfully, but left it at that. “What time shall we come by to pick you up for tonight?” he asked a while later, glancing up at you with his big, brown eyes.

You shrugged. “What time do we have to be there?”

“Nine?” he asked. “We could go for drinks somewhere else first? Or you could come to ours and we could have something to eat and drink there before? Up to you.”

With snacks and a few drinks in you, the three of you left Mako’s apartment that night and headed over to Midnight Aurora. You walked up a narrow, cobbled street to be met by Erin, Aemilius, and Florian - a satyr, vampire, and a cervitaur respectively - halfway down.

Aemilius heard your approach first, turning to face you to clap and cheer. “Happy Birthday!!” he practically sang at the top of his lungs, and you rolled your eyes, trying to hide your smile.

Together, the six of you headed up towards the top end of town, which looked magical that night, bathed in summer moonlight, with the bars and restaurants in the area now lively and bustling where they normally sat quietly during the day. Twinkling strings of fairy lights illuminated the way, and a shop sign swung in the slight breeze as you passed beneath it, showing a triple moon in glinting silver.

Midnight Aurora wasn’t as packed as you’d worried it would be, and honestly it was more of a theatre than a club, though beneath the stage was a dance space on the floor, currently full of tables. Tonight was obviously a more formal night. A bar filled the left hand side of the room, illuminated by LEDs beneath the counter in the shifting patterns and colours of the bar’s namesake, and a drow and a goblin worked seamlessly together to keep patrons happily topped up. Erin was apparently dating one of the bouncers, which was how you’d all been able to get tickets at short-ish notice. Normally they sold out weeks in advance.

Mako dug you in the ribs. “Not quite what you were expecting, huh?”

You had to admit that it wasn’t. It was classy but relaxed, buzzing but not overwhelming.

Currently onstage was a tall, powerful, muscular female orc and you tried not to look too hard at her, knowing that somehow Khargrin would know you’d been admiring his sister because… wow.

Swallowing, you looked away and croaked, “Drinks?”

“Thought you’d never suggest it,” Aemilius grinned. “First round is on me,” he said. “Take a seat and I’ll join you shortly.”

“Do we not get a say in what we have?” you laughed as Mako and his boyfriend steered you towards a table right in the middle of the floor while Aemilius strode away, lost in the low light and crush of people in seconds.

“Just let him have his way,” Erin said. “He probably knows what you want better than you do anyway.”

Deciding, not for the first time that night, just to go with it, you let the entertainment wash over you. It wasn’t all erotic dancing - there was a tap group that absolutely blew you away with their skill and synchrony, leaving you as breathless as had the bovitaur and his set of half-naked orcs that had preceded them.

“I think the variety is going to kill me,” you hissed at Mako and he snickered.

“Glad you’re enjoying yourself. They’re all really good, aren’t they?”

You had to nod. It wasn’t worth shouting over the appreciative audience’s wild applause. An octomer had just begun her set, involving a rope and a tank below, and you watched as she began and her coiling limbs hauled her effortlessly up out of the water by the rope.

Somewhere just shy of midnight, when the final act was announced, however, a strange and excited hush descended on the crowd, and you looked to Mako who just winked at you. “Wait for it,” he said. “Happy birthday.”

“O…kay?” you frowned warily.

The lights cut out without warning, and from the pitch black, two slender spotlights flashed on, illuminating a pair of dark hooves in the centre of the stage. The lights travelled slowly, teasingly, up over smooth purple skin, up a pair of slender, well-muscled legs, revealing a pair of glittering and very tiny silver hotpants, a lashing tail like a whip, a toned stomach with strangely familiar, geometric tattoos going up the dancer’s sides, over their ribs, and up their neck. A long, white ponytail dangled down the dancer’s back, and you gasped as red eyes blinked out at the crowd.

It couldn’t be? The meek and shy person you’d met earlier that morning was… here? Looking like that? They carried themselves with a quiet, contained dignity that drew you in and demanded your entire attention. Where this morning you’d found their bashful, flirtatious shyness alluring, now it was their stance that knocked you breathless as they stood with the self-assuredness of a tango dancer, waiting for the music to begin.

The music started with the slow pulse of a sleeping heartbeat, and they swayed their hips from side to side, eyes now closed. Even from that distance, you could see the way their eyelids had been kohled, adding further length and depth to their already almond shaped eyes, and a shimmering powder had been applied to their high cheekbones to heighten the sculptural quality that their face naturally possessed.

As if they had no idea they were dancing before a crowd, the strange, alluring dancer swayed, sinuous as a banner in the breeze, twisting and turning slowly, caught up in the low, hypnotic beat. You could barely breathe as you stared, transfixed. The energy in the room picked up, thrumming, and everyone seemed to be sitting there with their mouths open and their eyes half-lidded.

The difference between earlier on the seafront and now was almost unbelievable. Gods, they had the most incredible figure, and with the same shimmering powder accentuating every highlight on their bare chest and stomach, their dark purple skin gleamed in the lights.

When the beat changed, becoming faster and more energetic, they finally opened their eyes but their gaze locked above the crowd, as if they were still pretending not to have noticed you all staring in wonder at them. It didn't take an expert to see that they’d been classically trained at some point, and the graceful arrangement of their wrists and hands over their head made you think of meadow grasses blowing in the wind before the tension returned with a snap and they evoked the sheer commanding power of a paso doble dancer. They were mesmeric, and it was easy to see why they’d been placed last in the order for the evening.

Erin leaned over to whisper in your ear, “They’re an incubus…”

“Oh,” you breathed. And suddenly your reaction to them earlier made sense. Your stomach dropped unpleasantly. “Oh,” you said again. Had your reaction just been an accident then? As far as you knew, incubi and succubi could control the way their influence worked on people, but if they’d simply sparked that lust in you, did that make it real? You felt a little sick at that.

The longer you thought about it, the less the show held your attention. They were undeniably exquisite, and an extremely talented dancer, but it lost its magic for you the moment you realised that your reaction probably wasn’t real. The incubus was feeding off the lust in the room, the crowd’s desire for them, and the action of feeding created more lust.

As the dance seemed to be working towards its finale, you found you could bear it no longer. Abruptly, you stood and turned away, heading for the bathroom. You were the only person moving in the room besides the incubus on stage, and no one even noticed you leaving. Mako tried to grab your wrist as you left, but you were gone before he could follow or stop you.

At the door to the bathroom, you glanced back and found that the incubus was looking straight at you while dancing without breaking step. Even at this distance, they were truly stunning. You smiled sadly, and ducked out, remaining there until their set finished.

When you emerged, the theatre was buzzing. The chairs and tables had been cleared as if by magic, and the space had been opened up for the patrons to dance now. Mako and his boyfriend were quietly making out in one corner, though they were being relatively subtle for them, Erin was nowhere to be seen, and, as you looked around, you spotted Florian with two dancers and… was that… underwear dangling from one antler? Well, he was certainly entertained at any rate.

A movement to your right caught your eye, and you saw that Aemilius had found a partner to dance with, drawing the eyes of anyone nearby. With his sense of rhythm, he could probably have worked at Midnight Aurora himself.

“Flashy vampire,” you chuckled fondly as you watched the pair of them dance. The elf he’d found had glowing white skin, which complemented his own extremely dark skin beautifully, and you watched for a while before going over to the bar. Leaning against it, you waited alone for the glass of water you’d ordered to come your way.

To your surprise, when you turned around to pick it up, you found the incubus standing beside you. They were clothed now in a loose, white t-shirt that mostly hid the form of their beautiful body beneath, but anyone who had seen them dancing knew what lay under the shapeless top anyway. Their long legs were still on full display though, covered down to the mid thigh by the white t-shirt, and they wore a pair of platform heels that did obscene things to the muscles of their thighs and drew the attention of passers by.

“Hi,” you smiled, not wanting to be seen as prudish, especially after they’d witnessed your exit during their spectacular performance. “You dance beautifully…”

“Thanks,” they smiled. “Can I get you a drink since I didn’t manage to get you that coffee this morning?”

You tilted your head. “Why?”

Their smile broadened. “It’s your birthday, and I didn’t get to give you your actual present.”

Something anxious twisted inside you. “My actual present?”

“Mmm,” the incubus hummed. “Your friends were hoping I’d give you a private show.”

“They were?” you asked, turning to find Erin graining at you from the other end of the bar. “They already paid you?”

You watched with sinking dread as they nodded. When they saw your evident lack of enthusiasm, however, they said, “I don’t have to though. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“It’s not that,” you said. “And I don’t doubt your… uh… talents… I just… I’d rather have something… real, you know?”

“It’s just a lap dance,” they said, prickling slightly.

“I know,” you hastened to reassure them in case they thought you were thinking of other things they could be doing to you which the club definitely wouldn’t allow. “I’m not suggesting otherwise. I just mean… this isn’t really my thing, you know?”

That sad expression you’d seen earlier crept back into their red eyes and they nodded. “Not everyone is comfortable with being around an incubus. I understand. Let me use the money to get you a drink, and you can give the rest back to your friends.”

The congealing atmosphere between you suddenly made you want to choke. As they turned away, you reached for them and grabbed their forearm. The tattoos on their arm flared white hot and you gasped, reeling backwards as a short but intense blast of energy sent you staggering backwards. You hit the bar and wheezed as the air was knocked from your chest.

“Fuck,” the incubus gasped, darting over. “I’m sorry. Are you alright?”

This was not going the way you hoped at all. “What was that? I didn’t mean… I wasn’t going to hurt you…”

“They’re protection runes,” the incubus explained, touching you carefully at the elbow to steady you and get you to raise your head a little. “They stop people grabbing me while I’m working…”

“That happens a lot?” you asked, flexing and making sure nothing was bruised. You were fine. Surprised and winded, but fine.

With a wry look, they admitted, “It’s an… occupational hazard.”

A few people were watching the exchange now, tossing you dirty looks, and you wanted nothing more than to leave the place altogether. “Look, I didn’t mean any harm. I was just trying to get your attention before you went.”

“Well it worked,” they grinned, and you found yourself laughing. They glowered over their shoulder, and the small audience bustled off elsewhere.

“Guess it did.”

“Should we start over?”

You looked at them and nodded. “Sure.”

“I’m Ferren,” they said, extending their hand to you. When you eyed it warily, they laughed. “It won’t hurt you.”

Taking it, you saw the black, geometric shapes pulse white for a moment and let the tingling rush of sensation sweep through you at the contact. Then rather hoarsely, you grunted your own name. Their fingers tightened around yours and then they withdrew. “I’m sorry,” you said. “I… I get the feeling like I’ve insulted you, but I didn’t mean to, I promise.”

“Honestly, I understand,” they said. “Some people like the rush that being around an incubus gives them, and for others it feels… unnatural. I’ll be careful with my ‘influence’ around you.”

“Is that what happened earlier today?” you asked as you let them steer you towards the quieter end of the bar.

They shrugged. “I don’t normally have to be so active about controlling it. Normally I actively have to concentrate to turn it on, as it were, you know? To affect people I really have to try.”

“But not with me?”

“Apparently not,” they chuckled ruefully. “Now, please, for the love of all the gods, will you let me get you a drink?”

You nodded.

What began with one drink on your birthday turned into an hour spent at the bar talking with Ferren about everything, from how they began at dance school, and would have gone into the ballet if they hadn’t suffered with a suspensory ligament injury at sixteen, to how they lived in a small, traditional caravan on the edge of Starfall Springs and loved sour apple sweets almost more than anything.

Drinks that night turned into coffee the next morning - despite the late hour at which you’d returned home - and coffee the next morning turned into a long walk along the seafront, lunch, and then takeaway supper, eaten on a bench overlooking the cliffs just outside the small town.

“Ferren,” you sighed, setting your small container down on the ground beside the bench.

“Mmm?”

“How… How did this happen?”

“How did what happen?” they asked, “You mean ‘what geological forces created these cliffs?’ or ‘how does the tide go in and out?’ or —”

“— no,” you snorted and turned to face them. “How did I end up spending the entire day with you when it was only supposed to be coffee this morning? Is this that incubus charm of yours, or is it just… you?”

“It’s just me,” they said a little dazedly, staring into the depths of their own unfinished food box. “I promise I haven’t used even a scrap of my magic on you. I’ve been really careful.”

At that, you sat up and looked at them a little more closely. In the afternoon light, with the softly refracted light from the waves below casting a cool glow on their lilac face and dark red eyes, they looked like a sculpture or even a doll. Their skin was flawless, their lips full but without pout or pretence. They were just… themselves. Not a dancer, not even an incubus, just… Ferren. “You sound… You sound as if that’s not exactly common for you?”

They shrugged. “People expect us to be promiscuous. I’m used to one night stands and quick fumbles in out of the way corners. It’s been a long time since anyone’s just… listened to me like you have. I hope I haven’t bored you.”

“Bored me? Ferren, I’ve never had such a full day go by so quickly in my life! I still just thought that… maybe it wasn’t real somehow… that you’d just made me feel at ease around you…”

“So you’d fall into my arms and into my bed, you mean?” they asked with a bitterness that cut deep.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know anything about your kind. I was wrong to assume…”

They shook their head and a few strands of their white hair wafted into their eyes. On a whim, you reached up and tucked them back behind the tapering line of their ear and they shuddered noticeably.

“Should I not have touched you again?” you asked, glancing at their tattoos which, mercifully, remained dull and dark.

“No,” they hissed, turning to face you fully. “Gods, no, I… I want your touch but… I don’t want to freak you out. I want it to be what you want…”

“Kiss me,” you breathed.

Their red eyes widened and their lips parted. “Are you sure?”

You were. They were beautiful and gentle and sweet, and you wanted nothing more than to kiss them. “Can you sense my energy?” you asked.

In return, you were met with a question of their own. “Are you asking me to use my magic on you?”

“If that means finding out how I feel, then yes.”

Raising their elegant, tattooed hand to your face, they traced the line of your eyebrow with the pad of their thumb, and then circled your temple. Their eyes glowed as if lit by the sunset from behind, and they opened their mouth, inhaling deeply. The light in their eyes flared bright and they gasped, letting go of you suddenly and smiling. Their hand hovered in the space between you like a butterfly caught in amber. That smile though, blinding as always, illuminated their whole face.

Their fingers then moved back and traced your jaw as they leaned in to kiss you, eyes locked on yours until you let them flutter shut against the rising tide of emotion inside you.

Ferren’s kiss began with breathtaking tenderness, but the moment you let slip a groan, it deepened and they let their tongue taste you. You were sure you tasted of the meal you’d just shared, but honestly, it didn’t matter. You reached for them and tugged them closer until they shifted and instead sat straddling you on the bench, their knees on the wood of the seat on either side of your thighs. Their hardness ground against you as they kissed you, and you gasped as they pushed you back against the bench.

The air shimmered around them like a dusty road in summer, and you stared in open wonder at them for a moment as they drew away and tipped their head back. Another shudder ran right through them and their tattoos began to glow again.

“Ferren?” you asked, cautiously trailing a fingertip over the white lines on their neck that had, only a moment before, been black.

“I haven’t felt like this since I was a teenager,” they panted. “Your energy is incredible. I feel… I feel drunk…”

“You need to stop?”

“We probably shouldn’t do this out here on a public bench,” they laughed, their voice breathless and rasping.

“Your place or mine?” you asked.

“Mine’s small,” they said, letting their head roll forward again to let them look at you, “But it’s up to you. You really want to do this?”

“Can’t you tell by now?” you smiled. If this was all ‘you’, it felt fantastic.

Their answer was a smirk, but they clambered off you, hooves clopping on the stone path beneath the bench, and you saw the obvious tent in their trousers. They raised their eyebrows at you and the smirk became a broad, amused grin. “What a state you've left me in, eh? How are you with teleportation?”

“Excuse me?” you asked, surprised by the conversational sidestep.

They held out their hand to you and that inky darkness began to swirl around them, beginning at their hand and working up their body.

“I have no idea,” you said taking the offered hand and standing. “Does it hurt?”

“Not at all,” they smiled as they pulled you close to their chest. “Ready?”

“I have no idea,” you said, “But I trust you.” And you did. Despite having only met them the previous day, you absolutely did trust them, which was rare for you.

The darkness billowed up around you and obliterated your vision, but when it cleared, you were standing in the centre of a small, cosy, colourful waggon, with an arching, painted wooden roof to create a cylindrical space. At one end was a bed that took up the width of the tiny waggon, and it was towards that that Ferren led you, still holding your hand. The whole thing felt extremely personal and intimate in a way you’d not been expecting. This was their home, their sanctuary, and they were sharing it with you.

They lay you down on your back and you rested on your elbows as they undressed you slowly, reverently, revealing your body inch by inch. “You’re stunning,” they whispered once you were completely naked. And, under the vehemence of that ruby red gaze, you actually believed that they meant it. They didn’t waste any time in divesting themselves either, and when they stood before you, you gasped. You’d seen most of them already on stage only recently, but somehow this felt entirely different here. This was just for you.

“I won’t feed on your energy unless you tell me to,” they assured you as they pressed kiss after kiss up your inner thigh until you were gasping and bucking beneath them, begging with your whole body for them to touch you where you truly needed it. “Look at what a mess you’re making of yourself,” they crooned when they finally deigned to turn their attention to your arousal. And it was true.

“Please…” you hissed, head thrown back into the pillow behind you while they still only teased. “Gods, please!”

At the feel of their mouth on you, you bucked, but they held you steady with surprisingly strong hands, and you were nearly tumbling over the edge into orgasm in moments.

“I want… I want you to…” You tried to speak but your mind kept being wiped repeatedly blank by the waves of pleasure that their wicked tongue and devilishly hot mouth sent rolling through you.

Pausing, they hummed their question against you and you yelped a broken cry at the vibration of it, fingers scrunching their sheets to a tangle beneath you.

“I want to feel what it’s like,” you managed, speaking more deliberately this time and trying to focus. It didn’t really work because they started circling their tongue while they stared questioningly up at you with those red eyes. “Oh gods… What it’s like when you… I want you to…”

They licked a long, teasing stripe and you arched again and swore. “You want me to feed on you?” they purred. “Truly? You’ll make me come just from that you know? You’ll make me spill untouched. I can already tell.”

“I want you to come on me,” you said, trailing your fingers up your stomach for emphasis and Ferren inhaled sharply, pupils blowing wide until their irises were little more than a slim halo of ruby, glowing like hot embers.

Without a word, they moved so that they could keep pleasuring you with one hand while lying beside you. They kissed at your neck, raking their twin set of double canines over your skin, slowing the pace until it was too slow for you to come just yet, but more intense than you’d ever experienced in your entire life. You felt like you were going to tear apart at the seams and burst with want. “Ready?” they whispered in your ear and you shivered inarticulately.

Their tattoos pulsed white, then faded, then flared bright again. They opened their mouth and you stared, amazed, as a coiling, shimmering mist began to float towards them from you. At the same time, your body ignited from within and you yelled with pleasure. White hot and searing, the sensations came from everywhere, not just where they touched you, and you convulsed as your orgasm tore through you with a blinding intensity.

You didn’t even notice that Ferren had shifted and was now lying atop you, cock in hand. They spilled over you a second later, forehead coming down to rest on your collarbone as they emptied themselves all over your stomach and halfway up your chest. That strange energy still twisted between you as they jerked and twitched, finally lying still atop you.

“Gods,” they hissed, a good few minutes later. “Gods, I’ve never ever come like that…”

You shifted and grunted softly beneath them, and they slithered off you to lie on the narrow sliver of bed beside you.

“You alight?” you heard them whisper.

“Are you?”

With a little chuckle, they said, “Ask me again in about ten minutes.”

“Ten minutes?” you asked, feigning coy disappointment.

They shot you a sidelong look and laughed. “Alight, five. Tops.”

___

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wreckofawriter · 4 years

Text

Magnolia

Royal Au

Pairing: prince!Sirius Black x reader

Word Count: 6k

Warnings: Swearing

Summary: you sneak over a wall and meet a young prince and you keep sneaking over

Song to Set the Vibe: White Ferrari ~ Frank Ocean

A/n me: I hate cliches also me: write 6k word fic cliche. Anyway this was really fun to write, and it took me forever. (Please excuse any mistakes. I edited at 3am)

It started with pink petals, the delicate things falling over the old mossy wall reminding you of a scene from a novel your mother had read to you. You used to stare at the branches which peeked over the wall like the sun over the horizon in the early morning. You fell in love with the scent of the flowers, it was soft and sweet. It wasn’t until you were eight years old when you finally saw the tree in its entirety.

By then you were reading the books which your mother had recited to you. One always tucked into your small bag among a small notebook, quill, and ink which you always feared would overturn. You had a lot of free time at that age, your parents didn’t trust you in the bakery yet and you were old enough to wander on your own.

One day you found yourself staring up at the mossy wall which seemed miles high from where you stood. Your interest in the large tree was peaked, your thirst to perch on its sturdy branches was slowly killing you. You eyed the wall as you did an arithmetic problem, brow furrowed, mind reeling. You let out a small sigh, the wind mimicking you as a small gust blew your untamed hair across your face. You placed your hand onto a small stone jutting out from the barrier; it gave you a good hold. You had to balance on your toes to reach it, your other hand digging into the moss as you hoisted yourself upwards, feet scrambling for a second before your left found a jut. You smiled gazing thousands of feet upwards where you would see the branches glancing down at you.

You continued the pattern; one hand, a hold, one foot a hold. You slipped twice, once letting out a small yelp as your hands dug into the stone holding you in place, feet searching desperately for a hold. They found one and you took a breath, calming your racing heart as the adrenaline which surged through your body retreated.

After what felt like hours your fingers found the smooth top of the wall, you hooked your arm across it pulling yourself over with a groan. You swung your right leg over, your knee banging on the small lip of the top as you did. You winced but the pain was forgotten as you peered out into the vast garden which lay beneath you. You felt your lips part, short breaths getting caught in your throat.

It was magnificent. There must have been thousands of flowers; tulips, roses, daffodils, bluebells, lilies and so much more. Assortments of ferns and rounded bushes dotted the area. You could make out a large castle in the distance, for a second you thought you had imagined it. The grass was so green you thought it to be enchanted.

Your mind wandered back to the magnolia tree. It must have been ancient. Its trunk as wide as a large barrel, its branches reaching for the sky, its flowers spread wide, their intoxicating scent making a smile break onto your lips. You thought of Alice and wondered if this is how she felt when she fell into Wonderland.

You picked out the sturdiest branch which crossed the wall before darting along it and collapsing into a larger and safer one. Your smile widened. You sat yourself at the junction of two thick branches humming quietly as you took out a book and began to read, your leg swinging lazily as petals drifted to the ground around you.

For the next week, you struggled up the wall scraping your knees and bruising your fingertips to climb into the tree. You would stay there for hours. Playing among its branches or scribbling sketches in your journal, you had switched out your quill for a pencil so you didn’t have to worry about the ink anymore.

By your tenth day, the flowers had begun to wilt, late May was turning to June and the soft pink was to be replaced by leafy green. You were disappointed that they would be leaving you, they were so incredibly beautiful. As you scampered across your branch into your seat a shimmer of black caught your eye. You craned your neck to see a boy tucked at the bottom of the tree, his knees were drawn to his chest, his head buried within them. His body shook with sobs, hair spilling around him.

You tilted your head to the side in confusion before quietly descending the tree. You had never touched your feet onto the grass of the lawn, you didn’t dare, too afraid it's magic might pierce you. You swallowed your fear and dropped beside the boy, shaking the branches as petals rained around you.

The boy looked up, started by your sudden appearance. You flashed him a grin, three teeth missing from its uniform.

“Hi!” You spoke, your voice cutting through the quiet of the garden.

He stared up at you, deep grey eyes widened, his cheeks blotchy and eyes rimmed in red, “Hello.” he whispered, rubbing his eyes with his fists and wincing.

“I’m y/n. What’s your name?” you asked falling to your knees in front of him, your skirt pooling around you.

“Sirius.” He responded quietly, “Sirius Black.”

The name felt familiar like you had heard it a thousand times before, you brushed away the feeling, “That’s an odd name.”

He shrugged weakly, “Everyone in my family had an odd name.”

“Well, I quite like yours.” You paused frowning, “Why are you crying?”

He bit his lip, eyes darting away from you, he drew back into himself and you felt your disappointment deepen.

“I won’t tell anyone you know.” You huffed sliding off your knees and crossing your legs, “I don’t really have anyone to tell anyway. All the girls I used to play with say I’m strange now.” your bruised fingers danced over a fallen petal, picking in up and spinning it between them.

He glanced back up at you, “You swear you won’t tell?”

You nodded enthusiastically.

He sighed, gaze falling onto the pink and white dusted ground. He held out his hands to you. You peered at them, eyes widening for a moment. Thin scars ran across them, some white with old age, some a soft pink. It was the deep red that caught your attention. They were angry, the skin around them puffy as small rivers of blood dripped down to his wrist.

You took his hands delicately into your own, Sirius looked back up at you tears making his eyes glassy.

“I broke a vase.” He explained tearfully, “My mom hurts us when we break things.” A sob ripped from his throat and you felt your chest contract in sudden pain.

“Now I’m gonna have big ugly scars on my hand.” He wailed more tears spilling off his chin.

“It’s okay.” You beamed at him and he stopped, hiccuping as you drew his attention to the white marks which riddled your own hands. “I burn myself all the time, I have scars all over my knees and legs too.”

Sirius’s eyes danced across your own marks, most were small and wide, a few longer and thin like his own.

“Once they heal you can say you got them fighting a dragon like I do. We can say we slayed it together, then maybe some of those girls would actually believe me.” You felt your heart grow lighter at the idea. “Plus I know how to make them stop hurting.”

“You do?” He gasped.

You nodded, “My momma does it all the time.” With that, you brought his hands up to your lips placing light kisses on each one.

Sirius felt his cheeks heat for unknown reasons, the stinging of the slashes seeming to fade as your lips grazed them.

As you pulled giggled and raspberry pastries from your bag Sirius decided you were an angel that God had dropped from the magnolia tree.

It only took you one night to put two and two together. You asked him if he had ever been turned into a frog the next day and when he looked at you like you were crazy you explained that princes did that sometimes.

Sirius’s eyes widened, “You know I’m a prince?” his voice was shaky like it was about to break.

You nodded, “Why else would you live in a castle, plus I remembered your name, my momma talks about you and your brother sometimes.”

There was a pause, you expected Sirius to say something but when he didn’t you moved on talking about a fish you saw in the stream behind your house.

As you packed up to leave for the day Sirius grabbed your hand stopping you in your tracks. His eyes were wide, his lips drawn into a small pout, “You don’t care that I’m a prince?”

You scrunch your nose, “Why would I care?”

Sirius broke into a smile and shrugged, you liked it better when he smiled.

You tucked your book into your bag and jumped from the lowest hanging branch pulling yourself onto it, a flurry of pink and white fell onto the boy below you, “I’ll see you tomorrow!” You called as you scaled the tree, disappearing behind the wall a few moments later.

Sirius started at where you had been just before you hid from sight, his grin was glowing, “Tomorrow.” He mumbled softly to himself. You were coming back to him.

You were ten now. You could climb the garden walls with your eyes closed, on muscle memory alone. You and Sirius had spent your time under the leaves of the magnolia reading and playing together.

Today marked the two-year anniversary of your friendship not that either of you knew or cared. You crept quietly down the branches until you sat just above the boy. His head was buried in a book, his eyebrows knitted from frustration. You hooked your legs around the branch and swung downwards catching him by surprise.

“Whatcha reading?” You asked the small skirt you were wearing dropping to your chin, your tights on display, something your mother said was quite rude.

Sirius frowned and you brought your hands to the branch swinging your legs out from around it and plopping onto the grass next to him.

“It’s a book on ancient history. My mother wants me to read it.” He mumbled.

You glanced at the first few words on the page and scrunched your nose, “Sounds boring.”

“It is.” He agreed, looking to face you only to find you had turned away, peering into your small satchel. You spun back around with a small torn paperback in hand.

“Read this.” you stated pushing it into his grip, “It’s about a boy who travels the world looking for his little sister. It’s much more fun.”

Sirius gazed at the rumpled cover, the pages were dog-eared, a terrible habit you had gained from your lack of bookmarks.

“There is a witch and a princess and even a dragon!” You gushed, glancing up at him with wide eyes, “You swear you’ll read it?”

Sirius nodded, “Of course.”

You squealed in excitement, “When you finish you have to tell me all about your favorite character. Mine’s Rocky she’s the best and she- nevermind.” You cut yourself off, “I don’t want to spoil it.”

Sirius grinned back at you, his heartbeat speeding as you gleamed in the mid-afternoon light, the shadows of petals falling around you reminding him you were real, not just some daydream he had created in his mind.

Two more years had passed. Not long after giving your book to Sirius, your mother decided you were old enough to work at the family’s bakery. You never liked baking much, it was a bit of a hassle and far too technical, but your parents didn’t seem to care.

You spent most days inside the stuffy back kitchen making batter and doing dishes. You still weren’t allowed to do anything fun like frost cakes or cut cookies. Your life became long and boring, your free time disappeared as the expectations for you rose.

Weekends became a safe haven. Each Saturday you would scale the wall and hurry down a tree to meet Sirius. You didn’t play as many games as you used to. You no longer believed in dragons and mermaids or princes turning into frogs. Instead, you spent your time talking and reading, Sirius had grown taller than you now, his chin almost able to reach the top of your head as you stood side by side. The baby fat from his face had also begun to disappear and you heard girls around town whisper about how handsome the eldest prince had become.

You never really noticed though, he was still your best friend and you didn’t think him growing a few inches would change that.

It was Saturday, your favorite day of the week. You slipped silently down the tree, its flowers still closed, ready to bloom in a few days time. To your surprise, Sirius wasn't seated below the reaching branches but instead in the lawn, his bag and book disregarded in the light shade.

You slipped off your shoes, dropping to the ground and beginning towards the boy. The grass tickled your feet and a small gust of wind blew your smooth hair in front of you. As you tucked it out of the way you noticed the weapon held in your friend’s hand.

You called out to him and he turned giving you a full display of the sword his small hands grasped.

Your eyes widened as you investigated the metal, sunlight made it shimmer, small engravings in a language you didn’t understand became visible down its center. Its handle was made of a deep red leather which matched its sheath.

“It’s so cool right!” Sirius beamed down at you.

You nodded but the fresh bandages on his hands kept you from smiling. He caught you staring, his eyes falling as he turned away from you.

“I’m fine.” He mumbled, you could hear the hurt in his voice realizing quickly you had killed his happiness.

You panicked for a brief moment before plastering on a smile, “Can you do any moves with it yet?” you asked, placing a hand on his shoulder to turn him around.

His enthusiasm jumped back, “Yeah! I got taught this one where you slice it across and then swing it over your head like this.” he mimicked his explained actions and you giggled as he clumsily slowed it down. It was clear it was too heavy for him.

A bit of red dusted his cheeks, “My mother says I’ll grow into it.”

“You will.” You agreed, “I brought some peanut butter cookies if you want.”

He grinned and the two of you began back towards your tree. You sat down with a small huff taking out the wrapped goods and passing them to him.

“I have to start working full time at the bakery soon.” You sighed removing an apple from your satchel

Sirius felt his heart crumble. He wouldn’t be able to see you? What would he do with all his free time? He already only saw you two days a week, three if he was lucky. How was he supposed to deal with never seeing you? It seemed like an impossible task.

“I was thinking we could meet in the evening instead,” you suggested snapping Sirius from his downwards spiral, “My mom usually lets me go around six or seven so do you wanna meet here at seven-thirty? I know it’s kinda late and if you don’t want to then that’s fi-”

“I don’t mind.” Sirius rushed, “Not at all, you can come more days then right?”

You nodded smiling up at him, “Yeah.”

“Good.”

Your shoulders brushed, the wind picking up and causing the budding flowers to ruffle. Sirius leaned closer to you and caught your scent; cinnamon and caramel. Warm and sweet. His heartbeat sped and he felt his ears grow red.

“Y/n.” He spoke suddenly and you turned to face him, the sunlight catching your eyes and making them gleam, “Will you marry me?”

You furrowed your brows.

“I-I mean when we are older obviously,” He explained hurriedly, his face heating up. “I mean you’re my best friend and everything and I just thought it would be nice.”

You giggled a bewitching sound, “You don’t want to marry me Sirius.” you laughed shaking your head.

You were wrong.

The evening sun glinted in your eyes as you sat atop the wall, you could see Sirius in the lawn, his sword swinging around him in a glint of silver. He had gotten quite good with it in the past two years. You watched for a few moments mesmerized by his smooth movements. You shook your head, your neat ponytail swinging behind you.

When your feet touched the ground you hummed dropping your bag and walking towards the boy. You were quiet, making sure to step slowly and carefully You neared him stifling a giggle and suddenly he swung towards you. You ducked, yelping in surprise.

Sirius gasped, “Y/n! Are you okay?” he bent towards you and saw your body shake. For a horrifying moment, he thought he had hurt you.

You stood up laughing, “Sorry” you giggled, “I shouldn’t have snuck up on you while you were doing you swingy things.”

He rolled his eyes relief breaking over him, “They’re called positions not ‘swingy things’”

“Yeah, whatever your highness.” You mocked taking the sword from his hand before he could protest. You were surprised at its weight, finding it hard to imagine that he could swing such a thing at age twelve, “Jesus this thing is heavy.” You mumbled using two hands to bring it over your head in a satisfying swoosh.

“You’re holding it wrong,” Sirius smirked.

You stuck your tongue out at him, scrunching your nose.

He tsked his tongue grinning, “So childish.”

“Yeah because you’re the king of maturity.” you scoffed, “Now are you gonna show me how to hold this thing or just laugh at me?”

“It’s pretty funny to watch.” He admitted shrugging and you pouted, Sirius found himself thinking it was incredibly adorable. “Fine.”

He stepped behind you, his arms circling around your waist and gripping over your own.

“You want your thumb folded over like this,” He mumbled in your ear as he moved your hands accordingly. You fought a blush as his breath fanned over your cheek.

“You have to make sure that you have a strong grip, so don’t overlap your hands.” He instructed. Sirius felt like he was about to combust, his heart was speeding in his chest at an inhuman rate, his cheeks were blazing red as your body pressed into his own. Your sugary scent had taken him over. The urge to spin you around and kiss you had gotten so strong he realized he couldn’t go another second holding onto you.

Sirius stepped away and you released a breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

“And now you can swing.” He spoke breathlessly and you did, slicing the air in two.

“That was fun.” You giggled but Sirius barely heard you.

You were entirely unaware of the effect you had on him. You had no clue that he would spend the next week imagining how you felt in his arms. You were forever innocent of the fact that you would plague his dreams.

You groaned, your feet ached and your hands were sore. You had been up since four, your mother insistent on you prepping pastries and then forced you to spend the day frosting cupcakes with tedious designs. You hated that you were so good at it, you had an amazing gift for frosting art which meant many involuntary hours spent with piping bags in hand.

The wall was easy to climb but your aching feet complained and you considered turning around, you could have used the extra hours of sleep. Sirius flashed through your mind and you began up the wall. When you reached the top you sat there for a moment, the tree looked awfully difficult to climb in your fatigue.

“Sirius.” You called and you watched him spin towards your voice, the full moon reflecting off of his deep black hair.

He walked over and stood below you with his arms crossed, “You’re late.”

You groaned, “I know, I’m sorry, my mom wanted me to finish this ridiculous cake.”

He smiled, “I thought you weren’t coming for a bit.”

“So did I.” You mumbled. “Look I don’t want to climb the tree right now.” You explained, “So I’m gonna jump, catch me okay?”

Sirius’s eyes widened, “What?!”

“Catch me!” you repeated sliding to the edge of the wall, hands pressed into it, ready to push you off.

“Are you crazy?” He shouted and you ignored his words, taking in a breath.

“On three!”

Sirius began to panic, “Y/n I don’t know if I can-”

“One.” You moved to the very edge, your heart thumping.

“This is a stupid idea!”

“Two.” You spoked hands pressed and ready.

“I can’t believe you are doing this,” Sirius mumbled

“Three!” You took in a deep breath and pushed off the wall.

Sirius held out his arms not even sure how to brace himself. You collided with his chest taking you both to the ground with an unsettling thump. Sirius groaned, his back pressed into the damp grass, his hair fanning over his face. He could feel a dull ache in his right elbow and left ankle. Your giggle drew him from his slight pain, he opened his eyes watching as you brushed his hair from his face.

“Thank you, your majesty.” You whispered, smirking down at him from where you were seated on his chest.

“You know I hate it when you call me that.” He murmured and your smile only widened.

“It’s only proper that I pay my respects.” Your voice was mocking yet deathly sweet.

He scoffed, “You just jumped from ten feet because you didn’t feel like climbing. What about you is proper?”

You laughed again rolling off of his chest and onto the grass beside him. You started up at the stars for a moment your heart still beating too quickly as adrenalin left you. You traced the constellations, the comforting sounds of crickets and Sirius’s breaths making your eyelids grow heavy.

“I started reading philosophy recently.” You spoke softly, a warm gust of wind rushed through the late summer air “I hate it.”

Sirius snorted beside you, “I figured you would.”

“I just don’t understand why they make everything so fucking complicated. I mean why does there have to be an answer to everything?” You mumbled you felt Sirius’s hand brush your own for a moment, “I started to wonder why they had all these questions in the first place. Why does there need to be a reason for living? Can’t we just...live?”

His knuckles brushed yours again.

“I started coming up with my own answers. Each time they asked a question I would just say the first thing that came to my mind and stick with it.”

His fingers entangled with yours, his hand fitting snug within your own.

“Some greek asked, ‘Why are we living?’ and all I could think to answer was because we haven’t died yet. It was suddenly all so simple and meaningless.” You turned your head toward Sirius. “I liked it better that way.”

Silence fell, the stars blinked back at you and for the first time in a long time you imagined you were flying among them. Sirius’s hand was warm in your own. The wind had stilled and you drifted to sleep beside the magnolia tree.

You felt angry tears rush down your face as your feet hit uneven cobblestone. It was seven-thirty on the night before your sixteenth birthday. You scampered up the wall, your toes slipping from their holds twice as sobs ripped from your throat. Your knees hit the lip on the wall’s top, something you hadn’t done since eight years before. Tears made your vision fuzzy and your head throb as you clumsily stumbled down the tree, slipping on the last branch and falling into a heap at its trunk.

Sirius rushed towards you, “Y/n, are you okay?” you felt his hands on your hips as he drew you into his hold. You fisted his shirt burying your face into his chest as you continued to sob. The boy who held you was stunned, unsure. He felt his chest seize in sudden pain at the sound of your suffering.

Your cries quieted and were suddenly replaced with a shriek of anger. “That fucker!” you shouted pushing away from the embrace and Sirius knew immediately who had upset you.

It was no secret to him that your father wasn’t the nicest person around. He never hit you or your mother but his anger was out of control.

“I spent hours on it.” you sobbed, “Hours! My fingers were cramped from holding that stupid fucking pipping bag and it looked so good. So perfect, best cake I have frosted yet. And then he gets mad because he forgot to set a timer which is not my problem in the first place and he just destroys it.” your voice was laced in venom, your teeth gritted as rage-filled tears dripped off your chin.

“They are supposed to pick it up two days from now. Which means I’m gonna have to spend my entire day tomorrow making and frosting a new one.” Your voice broke in two and you felt like collapsing again.

You felt Sirius’s hands cup your cheeks, thumbs wiping away angry tears. You looked at him through a glassy haze, your eyes felt hot and sticky, eyelashes thick with saltwater. He wore a soft frown, his eyebrows furrowed a slight pout on his lips.

You stared at him for a moment, sniffling softly as your hands loosened around his shirt. His eyes shimmered in the late sunlight, hair framing his pale face, cheeks blossoming with deep red roses. He was beautiful.

You leaned forward suddenly, your lips colliding with his own.

Sirius’s narrowed eyes grew wide before sinking shut as your hands fisted his shirt again, drawing him closer to you. His own found your hips, tightening as your tongue grazed his bottom lip. He opened his mouth allowing you to deepen the kiss as your hands wandered up around his neck, lightly tugging on his hair. You tasted of bitter tears and the sweetness of sugar. You pulled away slowly, your breath fanning across Sirius’s stunned face.

“Do that again.” He mumbled.

“What?”

“Kiss me.”

You did, your lips meeting slower this time, your felt Sirius sink into you, his lips dancing with your own, the kiss was slower than your first, neater. His lips trailed to the corner of your mouth, laying butterfly kisses on your cheeks before wandering down your jaw to your neck where he nipped lightly at your skin. After a few minutes, he trailed back up to your lips placing a light kiss on them before pulling away.

Your breathing was short, heart hammering heavily in your chest.

“I got you something,” Sirius mumbled a large smile plastering across his lips.

You grinned lazily, “You didn’t have to.”

He shrugged, “Well I did.” With that, he reached into his pocket and removed a small thin box wrapped in soft pink tissue.

You took it carefully into your hands, tearing the paper to reveal a small back box, you glanced up at him and he nodded, eager for you to continue. When you lifted the lid your eyes widened, “Holy shit Sirius.”

On a soft bed of white lay a necklace. The gleam of the heavy diamond was blinding. You lifted it from the case as delicately as you could turning to meet Sirius who was beaming.

“Do you like it?” He asked in anticipation.

“Sirius, this is insane.” You gasped, “This had to have cost a fortune.”

He shrugged, “It wasn’t that much.”

You looked back at the gem mouth dropping, “I, I don’t think I can accept this, I mean.” You released a breath, “This probably costs more than my house.”

“Please take it.” Sirius begged, “I have no use for it if you don’t and you would look so beautiful in it.”

“Sirius this is literally insane.” You mumbled but he ignored you, taking the jewelry from your grip.

“Turn around.” He mumbled and you complied, feeling him drape the cold stone around your neck and clasping it. His lips danced across the back of your neck before he grabbed your shoulders turning you back to face him.

His eyes roamed over your form as you peered up at him through your eyelashes, “God you are so fucking gorgeous.” He murmured and you felt your cheeks go red.

“Shut up,” you muttered, bringing your hands to your face.

“How can I shut up when you are so stunning?” He grinned.

“Really it’s not funny, Sirius.” You glared at him with no real malice behind your eyes.

He hummed bringing your lips to his own once again.

Dating Sirius was amazing. For a while anyway. It was always amazing when you were alone. Just you and him seated under your tree, the sweet smell of flowers and endless baked goods as you talked about philosophy or the stars. It was everyone else who made it so difficult, so complicated.

When you had brought him to your house your mother had fainted as you explained that you had known the future king for almost a decade. And then she fainted again when you revealed you were dating.

Sirius’s family was an entirely different story. When he announced he was dating a girl who was anything but nobility his mother had slashed open his hands again and demanded your name so she could have you put to death for witchcraft. Sirius warned her that if any harm came to you he would kill her and then leave. His threats were not empty.

Sirius brought you to the castle many times over the two years you had been dating, but you were never faced with his mother and you were grateful for that. You met Regulus who was stiff and proper, but nice enough despite the occasional insults he threw at your class. Sirius’s father was wooden and almost seemed numb, you figured he had to be, married to the women that he was. Sirius had burst into laughter when you told him that.

You preferred the gardens to the castle, although you didn’t have to sneak into them anymore. Instead, you walked through the gates where you were always met by Sirius.

People stared at you and whispered behind their hands in town. You hated the sudden attention you got, it was suffocating. Everything felt suffocating. The sudden coldness from your family, the hatred from Sirius’s, the stares and the expectations, and the attention. It all felt like it was squeezing the life out of you and you found yourself missing days under the magnolia tree when it was just you and Sirius, not everyone else in the world.

You walked through the gates, your bag slung lazily around your shoulder. You were surprised to find SIirus absent from the entrance, you were turning to leave when a guard stopped you.

“Prince Sirius has requested your presence in the gardens, my lady.” He spoke and you cringed unsure if it was because of Sirius being addressed as ‘Prince’ or yourself as ‘my lady’. Both made your stomach churn.

You nodded numbly making your way towards the old magnolia, its sweet scent had returned, early spring making everything seem fresh. You descended the hill, noticing small lights tucked into the tree you loved so dearly.

As you neared you realized they were candles and you felt your heart stopped. Sirius stepped out from behind the tree in a suit, his hair was brushed back from his face and you almost didn’t recognize him. As he smiled at you you felt tears pool in your eyes. They were bitterly cold. He took your hand in his own.

“I love you y/n,” he whispered and you couldn’t respond, your heart throbbed, “I think I’ve been in love with you since I was eight years old.” you felt your throat go dry. “I want you to be with me for the rest of my life.” He sank to a knee, opening a velvet box with a ring far too big inside, “Y/n y/l/n, will you marry me?”

You felt numb, sobs shaking your body, “No.”

Sirius’s eyes widened, smile dropping, “What?”

You took in a shaky breath trying to control the whimpers that wanted to escape, “No.” you repeated, “I can’t do this anymore.”

Sirius stood, the little velvet box being tucked away, “Y/n, what are you talking about?”

You felt more tears build in your eyes, “I can’t anymore Siri.” you sobbed, “I’m so sorry, I tried I really tried, but I can’t.”

“Wait, y/n,” he tried to reach out and hold you but you pushed him away drawing into yourself. “It’s fine if you want to wait a little longer I don’t mind, you don’t have to get so upset.”

“You aren’t listening to me Sirius.” You cried, “I can’t do this anymore, I can’t do us anymore. It’s just all too much.”

The heartbreak in his eyes made it a thousand times worse, “Us?” his voice was small.

“I’m sorry.” You whimpered, “I just can’t take the stares and the whispers and the hate. I can’t be called my lady and dress up in diamonds.” You sobbed, “I can’t be a queen.”

Sirius’s eyes had grown glossy, “Y/n/n if this is about my family, you don’t have to worry.”

“It’s not just your family, it’s, it’s everyone.” You explained, “My own parents treat me like an outsider and I don’t even know why. People stare at me in the streets and whisper behind my back. I can’t deal with it all Sirius, it’s killing me.” you let out a breath, shaking, “It’s killing me Siri.”

Sirius stood stunned in front of you, tears trailed down his face, he looked hurt, betrayed.

“I love you.” You mumbled moving onto your toes to place a final kiss on his lips, he responded slowly and you slipped away a moment later, “But I can’t be a queen.”

You turned around quickly about to break into a run when you felt a hand grip your wrist.

You swung back around to face him and you felt your heart shatter, his eyes were full of heartbreak, desperation evident on his features, “I’ll leave all this.” He whispered, “I’ll leave it all, it can be just you and me and we can go somewhere far from here where no one will know my name. Please y/n.” He begged, “Please don’t leave me.”

You swallowed a sob, “You and I both know I’m not letting you throw away your life for me.” You reached your hand up to your necklace, unclasping it and letting it slide into your palm. You pressed the gem into Sirius’s hand, “You deserve better.” you whispered before you turned on your heel and began to run.

He truly did deserve better.

Part 2 ~♡~ Part 3

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sluttyten · 4 years

Text

All the Stars in the Night Sky

summary: hendery is a rich playboy type in public, lonely in private, and when he lets you into his life, neither of you are sure you’ll ever be able to leave

length: 16,255 words

tags: male reader, smut, daddy kink, angst, idk it felt like it got a little emotionally dark sometimes, some family troubles, happy ending (I promise)

Hendery would never admit to his friends (if he could really call them that at all) how miserably lonely he found this life.

He was rich, sure, and that meant that many doors were opened to him, that he had dozens and dozens of people vying to be his friends or to warm his bed for a night or two. When he’d once attempted to go near the topic with his close friend (the most genuine one of the bunch), Xuxi had laughed and gestured around them while saying, “How can you ever feel bad about anything in your life when you have all this? Like you’ve got an entire chest of drawers and an additional display case just for jewelry.”

That was true.

Jewelry was nice, it could buy him attention and a few friends, but it was nothing real or meaningful.

So Hendery set out on a great journey to find something that would fill the gaping hole of loneliness. Along the way, he earned the name of richest playboy in East Asia, Huang Guanheng, or Hendery to his friends.

He fucked his way across the world’s map, his body count growing each day. None of the girls or boys in his bed were it, they couldn’t fill up that void of loneliness. Xuxi and Dejun tried their best, but they were both in a similar state to him—earning money faster than they can hemorrhage it in an attempt to feel better about their lives.

On the first night you met Hendery, you were covering a gala where his father was the guest of honor. Most of the reporters were left outside the event, but you had managed to catch the eye of the eligible Guanheng as you’d dressed for the gala in the hopes of getting inside, a nice sleek suit paired with a bowtie.

He looked you up and down then gestured for the security team to allow you inside. You couldn’t miss the hisses and curses behind your back as you left the cluster of other reporters to enter the party. As you came up beside Guanheng in his handsome suit, his hands glimmering with rings, he plucked your phone out of your hand and watched as a guard stepped forward to frisk you.

“Hey!” You smacked at the guard’s hand as he got a bit too handsy at your inseam.

Guanheng called off the guard, but didn’t hand back your phone. Instead he tucked it into a hidden pocket of his suit jacket. “You can have this back later. It’s a media blackout event, so I can’t have you taking photos or recordings, you know, but it would be such a shame for someone like you to miss out an event like this.”

You decide that you don’t really mind. Even without photos or video inside the gala, you would still have the experience of being inside, and your boss would love that more than whatever pictures you got from outside. And besides, you were personally being invited inside by the most notorious young man on this side of the world.

“You can call me Hendery.” He said as you stepped through into the heart of the event. And then as you looked over at him, he smiled and leaned closer, laying the charm on so thick that you could almost taste it, and he said, “Or you can call me Daddy.”

If you weren’t already so attracted to Hendery, you would have left right then. Fuck your phone, a line like that one he’d just given you would usually have you walking the other way. You’d known him for less than five minutes. You were a reporter meant to be covering this event in an official capacity, and he had to go and make an inappropriate comment like that? Cocky assholes were not your type.

But, lucky for him, you actually did have a weakness for guys who liked being called Daddy, and more importantly, you had a weakness for the pretty curl of his smile and his dark eyes and the comforting weight of his hand at the small of your back.

Your knees felt weak.

You’d heard about the games he played before. A friend of yours had once met him at a party and she’d given you the step-by-step of his seduction. The way he’d charmed her thoroughly and then he’d gotten himself drunk before he fucked the breath from her lungs and left her so jelly-legged that she was still a little unstable when you saw her two days afterwards.

So you weren’t terribly surprised by anything that followed. Hendery was charming. He knew all the right things to say, he knew the way to look at you to break through the last of your walls, and he definitely knew just the right things to whisper in your ear any time that you began to mentally talk yourself down from pursuing where the night was inevitably going to end.

And that’s how you found yourself in the bathroom with Hendery, facing yourself in the mirror as he fucked you. The sound of your bodies colliding and your moans, his low instructions for you to call him daddy, all the sounds of the two of you together echoed off the dark tiles and the mirrors of the bathroom, and you gazed into the reflection as you felt yourself growing closer and closer to your orgasm.

Hendery’s ringed fingers came down hard on your ass, and the sting of pleasure sent you crashing through your orgasm.

You only barely managed to hold yourself up to still look into the mirror as you came for Hendery. You looked up at the reflection of his face, and what you saw there scared you a little. You saw the dark look in his eyes, an emptiness as he fucked you like it would make him really feel something, but it was then that you saw that all his charm and seduction was just a mask, and right then you were seeing Hendery without his mask, robotically fucking you to make himself feel something.

When he cums inside the condom a moment later, you look away from his face, and the next time you look up after he’s pulled out and is disposing of the condom, you find his mask back in place. A cocky smile as he tells you that you sounded so sexy moaning daddy for him, begging for his cock.

But now that you’ve seen beneath his mask, you can hear the hollow sounds behind his words.

He rocked your world absolutely, you’ve never had a better orgasm. But even after you leave the event that night, you can’t forget the way he’d looked, and how even with all of that lack of true emotion or passion for what he was doing, he’d still treated you so good all night.

Your body craved another orgasm by his hand, or rather by his cock.

Luckily, you had the perfect excuse. You’d left your phone in that hidden pocket of his jacket. A full day and a half passed before you finally really needed your phone and you finally confirmed to yourself that you could go to a Hendery again if he would have you.

You called your phone from a friend’s, and you were so pleased when three rings in, someone picked up on the other end.

“Hendery?” You asked cautiously as he’d not said a word.

“Yeah, I’m guessing you want your phone back?” He says.

You cradle the phone closer. “I do sort of need it. Have I missed any calls?”

Hendery’s quiet for a second and then. “Two from your boss. Hope that doesn’t mean anything bad for you.” His voice is flat, tired, and you wonder if you just woke him even though it’s edging toward two in the afternoon. He yawns. “You can come pick it up at my place.” He rattles off the address, and you write it down on your hand.

His house is huge, gorgeous, and so out of reach from your position in life that it almost hurts when the gates swing open after you press the buzzer button. The taxi you’d taken here still rumbles and puffs exhaust behind you, and you just know the driver is still craning his neck to take in the place, probably thinking he should’ve charged you more for the ride. But the gates clank shut behind you, and then it’s just you, a massive drive way and a fountain and large green shrubs that are neatly trimmed, and the house looming up before you.

A butler—an honest to god butler with the penguin suit and everything—opens the door for you and tells you he’ll lead you to “Master Hendery.”

It takes the entire walk through the house to Hendery for you to decide that the butler is not joking about calling Hendery ‘Master’ as he even begins addressing you formally. You pass maids as well, handfuls of them dusting and sweeping and carrying laundry. And it’s all just incredible to you because it takes you as long to reach Hendery’s bedroom from the front door as it takes you to walk from your favorite take out place to your sofa in your apartment.

“This is fucking insane,” you say as you step through the doorway the butler holds open.

The door snaps shut behind you, and you take a moment to look around at the entryway you’re in. There’s a sitting area to your left, a spacious bathroom visible through a doorway to your right. And just right there you’re overwhelmed with the luxuriousness of Hendery’s lifestyle.

“Are you coming in?” Hendery asks, his voice from somewhere deeper inside his palatial suite of rooms. You finally do walk further inside, passing through the sitting area to eventually find yourself in his bedroom.

There’s a large unmade bed with a pair of feet hanging out the side and someone still snoring beneath the blankets. A bay of windows looks out over the side lawn of Hendery’s home, a manicured lawn with a pool and more neatly trimmed shrubbery. It’s against those windows that you find Hendery. He’s got his legs stretched out the length of the windows eat while he stares down into the yard and pops mouthfuls of something into his mouth from the plate in his lap.

You clear your throat, and he snaps away from the window, looking at you. Your gaze slides away, back to the figure in his bed.

Hendery stands up, dropping the plate onto the window seat as he gesture for you to follow him. “That’s just Xuxi. You know, Huang Xuxi.”

You do know. Everyone who’s paid any attention to the life of Hendery knows Xuxi as well as Dejun, the two most wealthy and most prolific with their sexual encounters, just one rung below Hendery on the list.

Hendery doesn’t say anything else about his friend, instead he leads you back through the sitting room, in through the spacious bathroom, and out the other side into his closet. You try not to let your eyes grow to wide at the wealth you see amassed in this one room. Hendery ignores your expression, the look of wonder on your face, and he points at the window into the room, another window seat, where your phone is plugged into a charger.

You don’t even consider what a strange place this is for your phone to be. You just walk over and scoop it up, sit down to check your notifications. You have two voicemails from your boss, the first irate, the second still irate but slightly concerned as you normally return his calls within an hour at most, and his two calls were 24 hours apart. You quickly shoot off a message to him apologizing and explaining the situation in as few words as possible, promising him that you have a story for him.

Being at the gala hadn’t been all fun and fucking with Hendery. You had actually been working too, gathering bits of information for you to compose into a story, which you’d begun on during the last day and a half.

“So everything okay with your boss? Not fired?” Hendery asks, and you look up at him, having half-forgotten that he was there and halfway believing that he would’ve left the room and returned to his bed and best friend.

“Not fired, I hope. He was just angry that he hadn’t heard from me.” You stand up and unplug your phone, tucking it into your pocket. And then you hesitate. You came all this way for your phone, it seems such a shame to leave so quickly. Especially after you’ve been thinking almost non-stop about Hendery’s cock.

Something in that must show in your eyes because Hendery smirks. “You’re a thirsty bitch, aren’t you?” You gaze works down from his smirk to his chest and then even lower to the loose linen sleep pants he wears. “Bet you forgot your phone in my pocket on purpose so you could come try to get me to fuck you again.”

You hadn’t planned that, but it truly had worked out that way.

Hendery comes closer, and you sink back down onto the windowseat, and when he stands right before you, you find your mouth level with his swollen bulge in the front of his pants.

“Do you want me to fuck your mouth, slut? Want Daddy to make a mess of you?” Hendery asks, and he pushes his fingers through your hair, tilting your head back so you’re forced to look up at his face again. “You want Daddy’s cock again?”

You swallow and suddenly your tongue feels too big for your mouth. You nod silently.

“Then open up.” Hendery runs a hand down to your jaw, thumbing at your bottom lip. “Show me what you want.”

Your mouth drops open, and you look up at his face, ready for your mouth to be filled with his big cock. Hendery tsks at you, and he reaches down to push his pants down, freeing his cock, and then he pushes immediately into your mouth.

Hendery doesn’t wait for you, he just pushes in, setting off your gag reflex, and he moans as you choke around him. He only pulls back slightly to let you breathe a bit, and then he pushes forward again. This time you take him slightly better, still gagging a bit, but Hendery seems to love that. He swears and moans, puts his hand on the back of your head and sinks forward until you’re straining to take all of him in, but you’re pretty sure that you can’t possibly take even the little bit of him that’s not yet between your lips.

“You’re taking Daddy’s cock so well,” Hendery tells you, stroking the back of your head. He starts thrusting, pulling back to thrust in sharply again. Your jaw aches already and you’ve barely even started, but the hunger for Hendery makes you brush off the ache as if it’s nothing.

You close your eyes, open up your mouth as wide as you can, and you let Hendery fuck your throat. You reach for his hips, trying to hold yourself steady, and Hendery fucks your mouth harder at your touch, he sinks into you like he’s searching for something, hungry for the feel of you around him. You think again of that look in his eyes while he fucked you at the gala.

Looking up at him now, you see him watching his cock pushing between your lips. The light coming in through the window sets his face alight, all sharp angles and perfection. His jaw clenches when you moan and suddenly try to push forward, fucking your throat down on his cock instead of the other way around.

Hendery swears and the hand on the back of your head pushes your forward, his other hand curls against the back of your neck, his thumb brushing the length of your throat in the front. You feel at last the final bit of his cock passing between your lips, your face buried against his abdomen and you’re actually choking around him now, your body rejecting this and you love it, the way that Hendery keeps holding you down on him.

He cums to the feel of your throat convulsing around him, shooting his load deep down your throat. You can feel the drool leaking from the corners of your mouth, even some tears dripping down your cheeks.

Hendery starts to pull out, and you make an awful noise of choking again. He strokes your neck and throat, murmuring some words to you that you can’t make out over the sound of your heartbeat and your own coughing.

Hendery pulls most of the way out, but you’re not ready for him to leave you yet, so you suck around what of his cock is left in your mouth, and he thrusts shallowly a few more times, weak pumps of cum leaving him, and at last you both pull away from each other.

It’s quiet for a moment.

“Who’s that?” Xuxi asks where he leans in the doorway, clearly amused at what he stumbled in upon. You wipe at your mouth, and Hendery just tucks his dick away.

“Don’t worry about it.” Hendery turns away, moving toward a smaller doorway that you missed before, leading into yet another room in this labyrinthine suite of rooms. “You know the way out!”

You’re not sure if he’s addressing Xuxi, but you’re positive that he’s addressing you. You push to your feet and brush by the other wealthy man, who turns to watch you. After a few feet, you hear him walking to catch up with you.

“So, what are you doing hiding in Hendery’s closet?” He sticks close even when you push out the door of Hendery’s room. You can’t remember which way you came from, but Xuxi taps your shoulder and then points to your left. You start that way with him tagging along. “I know you weren’t here when I passed out this morning, and Hendery never mentioned a booty call.”

“He had my phone,” you finally tell him. “We met at the gala the other night. He took my phone and I forgot to get it back before I left.”

Xuxi hums in thought, and before he can think of anything else to say, you’ve reached the front door and shoved your feet back into your shoes, dancing through the door so he can’t try to say anything more. But unfortunately, his legs are longer than yours and he catches up.

“Let me give you a ride home.” He suggests. You don’t know what he’s playing at, so you turn him down.

“I’ve got a friend on their way to come get me.” You lie, but you’re already pulling your phone out to message one of your friends who doesn’t live too far away to come pick you up. “It’s too late now for me to cancel on her. She’d be pissed.”

Xuxi doesn’t seem too impressed by what you’ve just said. He offers it up once more and then heads away to his shiny luxury car parked nearby. You’re still standing there waiting for a response from your friend when Xuxi’s speakers begin booming from the bass, and he shoots off around the driveway, sending up a small shower of the little white pebbles that make up the drive. The gates open and close behind him, the booming of the bass fades away.

Still no answer from your friend. You try another. Call your first option. No answer from either of them.

It’s not necessarily cold outside, but you shiver as a breeze skirts around the side of the house. Your phone sits silent in your hand, and you feel like all the windows of the house are watching you, the maids and the butler and most of all Hendery. You tell yourself that’s foolish.

But even if it’s foolish, you think it must be true that you were being watched in some way, because after ten whole minutes of waiting with no response from your friends, the front door of the house open behind you.

“You can come back inside, if you’d like.” Hendery stands there, looking weary. He looks so different from how he looked when you first laid eyes on him. Gone is that glamor, the rich boy polished to a shine in front of all the cameras. Here you see the tiredness, the soft edges that had been so sharp in public. “You’re clearly waiting on your ride, and it’s rude of me to just leave you waiting outside. Plus, I owe you an orgasm, don’t I? Come inside.”

He sweeps his hand in a gesture for you to step through the doorway, and it doesn’t take much more than that for you to return inside Hendery’s home.

Back within his suite of rooms, Hendery plucks at your clothes while you walk toward his bed. You shed them obediently, leaving a trail from his door until the mess of his sheets, which he tumbles you into.

In the haze of lust that takes you over, you’re not even sure what all positions Hendery bends you into. You’re aware only of the pleasure, of his cock and fingers breaking you apart only to pull you back together and do it all over again. His stamina is incredible, and it’s only when you cannot physically stand another orgasm, that Hendery finally backs off, rolling over into his back, and casting the condom toward the trash half hidden in the corner.

You curl up and look at him. The cool shuttered look on his face. He stares up at the ceiling.

“Hendery.” You reach over and hit him in the chest. He jumps and grabs your hand, pushing it away. You try not to feel hurt, but you do anyway. After all that you just did together and he rejects even just a little touch of your hand? You clear your throat and try again. “Hendery, are you—“

The last word, okay?, hovers unspoken in the air when Hendery sits up and walks away, grabbing his pants from the floor and yanking them up. You wait for a moment to see if he’ll come back, and when he doesn’t, you go looking.

You find him in the bathroom washing his face. Or, more accurately, staring down into the sink with water dripping from his face.

Part of you thinks that now is the time for you to leave. He’s clearly going through some stuff and doesn’t really want you there. He just wants someone he can bury his cock inside of, nothing more. Even if you have to walk home from here, maybe it’s better than staying.

The other part of you feels that you should stay. He’s clearly going through something, and maybe he just needs to someone to stick around and be there for him through whatever this is. But when you take a step closer to him, Hendery looks up, and the second that he spots you he comes over and sweeps you into his arms, trying to kiss you and pick up again where you left off in bed.

You push at his chest. “Stop. Are you okay?”

Hendery makes a sound of frustration, and tries to kiss you again. You push at his chest again.

Hendery spins away, walking into his closet, walking deeper and deeper, and you follow him this time, slipping through that narrow doorway from one room of the closet into the next.

He walks through a section that is nothing but shoes, another that seems to be just suits. You follow him through a private laundry room, and you see a maid slipping back through a narrow door as Hendery passes by. You follow him until there’s nowhere else to go.

In a small square room at this end of his suite, there are windows set into three of the four walls. Half of the ceiling is also glass, and below that is a pile of pillows and beanbag chairs. Hendery collapses down into one of them, and then looks over at you. There’s a flicker of surprise before it’s replaced once more by a somewhat petulant expression.

“Why did you follow me?” He asks.

You fold your arms in front of you. “Because you’re clearly upset about something. I don’t know what. I know I’ve only known you for hardly even two days, but there’s clearly something going on with you and you’re using sex to cope.”

Hendery rolls his eyes, grabs a pillow and squeezes it against his chest. “You can leave now. You got your phone. You’ve had my dick as well as a month’s worth of orgasms. Bye.”

His absolutely dismissive tone stokes a fire to life inside you. You hate the way that you’re just trying to show some genuine concern for him, and he’s just brushing you off and being rude about it. He was mostly fine until you denied him fucking your again. And now he’s throwing a tantrum basically, like a spoiled rich boy, unused to not getting what he wants.

“You’re such a rich brat, you know that?” You stand firmly in the doorway.

Hendery doesn’t look at you, but the way that his head turns ever so slightly lets you know that he’s listening.

“Throwing a tantrum because I won’t let you fuck me for the fifteenth time today? And getting genuinely pissed off when I’m trying to find out if you’re okay.” You want to storm out of the room but you also want to storm over to him and drop down in his lap, make him look at you and tell you why he is the way that he is. “But maybe you’re right, Hendery. Maybe I should leave you here all alone in your ivory tower. You’re right, I got what I came for: my phone. And I got to be fucked by you again. Maybe you’re used to just being used for sex, for what you can give to others without being given much of anything else in return to recognize when someone is trying to actually show some interest in you and your personal wellbeing.”

Hendery turns his head again, almost facing you, but just looking at the floor, refusing to make eye contact. You think you must’ve hit a nerve of some sort.

“If you really want me to leave then tell me to leave. I’ll go. But I hope we’ll see each other again, Huang Guanheng. I hope the next time I see you, you’ll smile and mean it, that you won’t just drop the smile as soon as you think no one’s looking. I’ll see you around.” You turn today leave.

A hand catches your wrist. “Wait,” Hendery says. “Don’t leave me alone.”

You half turn back to him, and he squeezes your wrist.

“Stay.” He says, and with just that one word, a part of you breaks and you feel like you’ll never leave him.

Hendery pulls on your hand, drawing you closer and down to sink into the beanbag chair with him. He doesn’t look at you, but he softly pleas again, “Just stay. I hate sleeping alone.”

You sit for a while together silently, squished together in a beanbag chair as the sun sets, and at some point you rest your head on his arm and you just look at him. Hendery falls asleep, his head tilted back to look up at the glass part of the ceiling, and you watch his eyes close and hear his breathing fall steady and slow.

Maybe it’s weird to just watch him while he sleeps, but where else are you going to look? Any time that you shift, his arms twitches beneath you, as if he’s ready to pull you back to keep you from leaving him.

Hendery looks so soft as he sleeps. So relaxed, freed of whatever it is that plagued him while he’s awake. His pretty hair falls back from his face, leaving his forehead visible, unblemished by a frown or stern set of his eyebrows. His lips are parted and you notice that they’re turned up in a slight smile. You admire his profile—the line of his nose, the length of his eyelashes, all of the little attractive qualities about him. The sound of his breathing is like a lullaby.

You’re nearly about to fall asleep yourself when you realize that Hendery is awake again.

You don’t know when his eyes opened, but between one slow blink of your heavy eyes and the next, you realized that Hendery was gazing up at the sky through the ceiling, the stars growing more visible as night settled.

“I’m lonely, that’s my problem.” Hendery says the words softly as if he’s not sure if he really wants you to listen. “No one ever sticks around, and even if they do, they don’t really care.”

You get more comfortable with your head on his shoulder, and you tell him, “I’m here, Hendery.”

“Because you wanted dick.” Hendery keeps staring up at the ceiling, beyond it to the stars. “That’s why you’re still here.”

“Yes, at first.” You answer honestly. “What are you looking at, anyway?” You shift your head closer to his. His ear touches your cheek. “Do you know astronomy, Hendery?”

He jerks his head. “No. I just like looking. It’s dark enough and clear enough around here that we can actually see the stars somewhat decently.”

His arm beneath your head curls, draping over your shoulder. It’s comfortable, and you sink into Hendery’s touch, keeping your eyes up on the night sky as well. “Do you know anything about any of the stars?”

So Hendery begins telling you a few things, pointing out the constellation you can see, telling you stories behind the constellations, stories that you’re not familiar with, but the longer Hendery talks about them, the more you can see that he’s put some time into learning them. After a while you look away from the stars and back to his face, to the passion in his eyes and the smile on his face, the way that he stares up at the stars in awe.

You wake up in the morning with an achy neck and no memory of actually falling asleep. The last thing you remember is Hendery’s musical voice painting a story of a dragon across the night sky.

But now, Hendery is nowhere in sight.

Sunlight pours through the windows of the room, and you squint, shielding your eyes against the blaze. You rub at your eyes as you sit up, and a blanket falls down into your lap. You drag it up around your shoulders like a cape as you pass back through his extensive closet and the bathroom. The sitting room is empty as well, but he’s sitting on the edge of his bed, raking his fingers through his hair and talking on his phone.

Not wanting to pry, you quietly head back to the bathroom, hoping that by the time you’re finished showering and everything, his phone call will have ended.

His shower is massive, and it takes you somewhere close to three minutes to figure out all the controls, but finally you do stand in the glass shower, steam pressing against the walls, warm water massaging your back, racing through your hair and relaxing the ache in your neck. You start singing, quietly to yourself at first and then louder. The acoustics in the bathroom are wonderful, and you’re admiring that as you wash down your body, when another voice joins in.

You swear and turn around toward where you think the door. Your voices echo around the room, but Hendery speaks again, “You’re awake.”

You feel a spray of cold air cutting through the steam, and then you see Hendery, his bare form stepping up to stand beside you under the showerhead. He smiles, once again that charming playboy rather than the vulnerable side of himself he’d shown you last night.

“Plans today?” You ask him.

“Not really. Do you?” His gaze flicks up and down your frame, dragging slowly up from your feet, lingering when he reaches the apex of your thighs, then suddenly he’s gazing into your eyes with a fiery hunger, a half-hidden plea for you to stay, to clear your schedule for him.

You drape your arms over his shoulders, moving so you’re standing in front of him, your wet bodies fitting together. “No plans. I can send my boss my story from the gala tomorrow. As long as you promise to keep me entertained today?”

Hendery lowers his mouth to yours. He slides a hand around to palm at your ass, the other comes up to press between your shoulders, holding your chest firmly against his. His busy fingers on your ass slip into the cleft between your cheeks, dipping in deeper and deeper until you moan and press back on his fingers, just wanting him inside you.

“You gonna be good for Daddy?” Hendery speaks the question against your lips, backing off just enough that you can moan for him. “Yeah, you want me to fuck you again? Thought you weren’t here just for my dick?”

You shake your head. “I’m not, but fuck, you’ve got me all worked up now.” You reach back to hold onto his wrist, keeping him from pulling his curious fingers away from your entrance. “Just touch me, please. Daddy.”

That’s what does it.

Hendery kisses you again, his mouth hot and sharp on yours as he steps forward, pressing you backwards until you feel the glass wall of the shower cool and damp against your back. He pulls your hips forward so his wrist isn’t trapped so uncomfortably between your ass and the glass. And then he slides his finger over your needy entrance, and when you make just the sound he’s been listening for, he presses it inside you.

You pull your mouth away from his, dropping it back almost painfully against the glass. Your moan echoes between the glass walls. Hendery fingers you and mouths at your throat, soon working another fingers inside you, opening you up for his cock.

When you’re bucking your hips forward, rubbing against his erection, moaning for him, that’s when Hendery pulls his fingers away.

He flips you around, pressing your chest against the glass, drawing your hips back flush against his.

“Look at you, slut, hungry for my cock, just needing to be stuffed full.” His hand comes down on your ass. You whimper. Hendery swears and you know he just saw you clenching around nothing, looking so invitingly snug for his cock. “You want Daddy to fuck you?”

“Yeah, fuck me.” You push back, only to feel his hand burning against your ass again. “Please, Daddy, want you to put your big cock in me, I need it so bad.”

Hendery takes hold of his erection, drags it between your legs, teasing it over your entrance. You feel weak, twitching with the need to get off and touch yourself, but you don’t even have to try that to know that Hendery doesn’t want you to touch yourself. He wants you to cum solely from what he does to you.

He slaps his dick against your ass cheeks, and then pushes into you.

It burns sweetly as he pushes in deep, as you stretch around him. Even though you had him multiple times yesterday, it feels all new today. Hendery pounds into you, nailing right into that spot inside of you that sends stars across your vision, pleasure unfurling through you and turning your vision white.

Hendery presses in as deep as he can go as you cum, your walls squeezing around his cock, feeling so sensitive but still craving to be touched.

He’s so into the feel of you around him, that you don’t think he notices when your hand slips from the glass, reaching around to wrap your hand around yourself, whimpering daddy all the while. Hendery thrusts into you still, continuing on to his orgasm, carrying you too toward a second one which you feel swiftly coming towards you.

“Ah, fuck,” Hendery groans, snapping his hips forward so harshly that you knock against the glass. A whimper spills from your lips. Hendery reaches around you, drawing you back again, and that’s when he notices that you’ve been touching yourself. He clicks his tongue in disapproval. “Trying to cum again on my cock? Well, come on, baby.”

He fits his hand against yours, his fingers lining up with yours, touching you while you touch yourself, pumping his hand on your cock all while he still thrusts deeply inside you.

You feel yourself growing close again, pushing back on his cock. Your moans and cries of daddy and Hendery! are swallowed up by the steam billowing around the pair of you, and Hendery cums without warning, pulling out of you so quickly that you don’t even have time to miss him before you feel his hot cum painting stripes over your ass, his soft moans he leaves against your shoulder along with soft kisses.

Your joined hands continue to work on getting you to your second orgasm, and it’s when Hendery bites down on your shoulder that you spill over. Hendery rubs you through it, kissing your shoulder and murmuring to you how sweet you look cumming like this, dripping cum over your fingers and the glass, making such a mess.

“I’m tired again,” you tell him, slumping forward against the glass.

Hendery hums and pulls his hand away, bringing it to his mouth to lick his fingers clean. You rest your cheek on the glass, watching him do this, and it makes you feel warm with desire still, but you can’t take more right now. Not even when he grabs you by the hips and drags you back under the shower’s spray, cleaning the cum off of you carefully.

You end up down in a large overly fancy kitchen. A chef has several things going at once, and you’re not sure what to look at or do, but Hendery sits down at the table, pours himself a glass of juice, then pushes out the chair beside him, nodding pointedly at it. “Sit down.”

Breakfast, which is really more like brunch given the hour, is extraordinary and rich. You feel absolutely stuffed by the time you’re finished, ready to just laze about with Hendery. Until he gives you the news.

“I’m having a party here tonight.” He rubs a hand on your thigh, smiling a bit conspiratorially. “All sorts of friends are going to be here. Booze, drugs, whatever you like. Just don’t go writing about it.”

Being with Hendery makes you almost forget about your job. And you like him. You wouldn’t gossip about him even to get paid.

“DJ’s coming. Xuxi too.” And then he lists several other names that sound vaguely familiar, like you’ve heard them in connection with his name before—celebrities and other rich kids—and some less familiar names as well. “Will you stay?”

Hendery kisses your cheek and then goes lower to your neck.

You grown and push at him. You’re still sitting at the kitchen table. His chef is just a few feet away. His hands are constantly moving, massaging, stroking, attempting to entice you to stay.

When he kisses a sensitive spot on your neck and strokes at your thighs, you almost moan.

Instead you push him away more firmly this time. “You don’t have to make everything about sex, you know? Why don’t you show me around? Or tell me more about you?”

Hendery grumbles a little bit, but he stands up, takes your hand, and leads you out of the kitchen. He shows you around, showing the pantries, a greenhouse, the gym and sauna, the pool, the private movie theatre. There’s the great room, the sitting room, another sitting room, a study that holds so many books you can’t even take them all in before he’s whisking you away. He shows you the garden and the outdoor pool, the mini golf course his father had put in when he was younger.

“And where is your father?” You ask him as Hendery you pass by a gardener and the groundskeeper who are arguing over a flowerbed. “He lives here too, right?”

Hendery looks sideways at you. “Oh, you have a real Daddy kink don’t you? You trying to bump into my dad, baby?” He laughs and you can tell he’s completely joking with you. “Trust me, you’re not my dad’s type. He likes them pretty and dumb with big tits. You might be very easy on the eyes, but you’re not dumb at all. And your dick might be a bit of a problem for him.”

You can hear the bitterness clear in his tone.

You’re familiar with the story. Mr. Huang had been married to Hendery’s mother, by all accounts was head-over-heels crazy for her, but she passed away when Hendery was still very young. Mr. Huang quickly moved on to a young, hot girl. And after her there was another and another and another. An endless stream of models and actresses and heiresses, all beautiful and sweet, but none of them lasted too long.

“My father is in Moscow on business at the moment,” Hendery says coldly. “He’ll probably come back with my next mom.”

To change the subject (because you really don’t like the dark cloud that suddenly rains on Hendery’s parade), you ask him, “What’s your favorite room?”

Hendery brightens up a bit. “We’re on our way there now.”

You walk through a bit more of the garden, fragrant flowers and neatly trimmed grass, stepping stones cross a small pond swimming with koi fish. There’s a tall tree and a small picnic area, and then Hendery pulls you beneath a pergola woven with wisteria, then right through a pair of glass double doors.

The room inside is shaded on one side but on the other side sunlight spills through windows set high on the wall. It’s quiet inside, just dust motes dancing through soft sunlight. There’s a piano and drums, a violin and cello, guitars and microphones and every instrument you can imagine.

“Father always had me study music. I think he thought it would calm me down as a child. Pretty sure it made me louder and didn’t teach me nearly as much discipline as he’d have liked.” Hendery walks away from you, trailing his fingers almost lovingly over the instruments he passes.

When he reaches the piano, he looks back at you.

“Can you play them all?” You ask.

“Most of them. Not always well.” He sits down at the piano bench. “Do you play?”

You shake your head no.

As a child you’d often dreamt of playing the piano. Not necessarily to become a master of it, but just simply because you enjoyed the sound and that watching a pianists fingers flowing smoothly over the ivory keys was mesmerizing. Your parents hadn’t been able to afford the lessons and when you once attempted to play the piano in the music room at your school, you’d realized it was a little more difficult than you’d imagined. So you’d given up and never looked back.

Until now.

You slide down beside Hendery on the bench. “No I don’t play. But if you do, I’d love to hear.”

Hendery smiles. “Anything in particular you’d like to request?” He flexes his fingers, stretching them in preparation.

Suddenly you can’t think of a single song. Your mind goes blank and you just gaze at Hendery, all lit up in a heavenly golden glow. He’s so handsome, and right then as you sit shoulder-to-shoulder with him in his favorite room of this massive home of his, you really look at him and feel an ache deep in your chest. A stupid, silly ache. Like you’re falling in love with this rich playboy who’s just using you so he doesn’t feel lonely.

When you don’t give him a song to play, just continuing to stare at him distractedly, Hendery laughs his goofy but wonderful laugh, and he starts playing anyway. It’s not a song you recognize, but it’s lovely all the same. After that he plays another and another, and you listen intently, amazed by how well he plays, watching his fingers move over the keys.

“You’re really good,” you tell him.

Hendery runs a hand through his hair, messing with it nervously. “Thanks. Part of me always dreamed of playing, pursuing music as some form of a career, but my father insists that I follow him with the business. A career in music wouldn’t allow that.”

“Do you sing?” You ask, nudging him. “I bet you have a lovely voice.”

Hendery laughs, the sound filling the whole room. “I can. I’m better at rapping. When I was younger, Xuxi, Dejun, and a couple other guys seriously considered forming a group. Father brought his fist down on that. Even though he’s the one that got me started on music in the first place. So now I just satisfy myself with coming in here to mess around sometimes.”

For the better part of the next hour, Hendery picks up different instruments, playing a bit for you on each one. He’s still actually humming along to a melody as you leave the music room, exiting back out under the wisteria. The sunlight of the early afternoon feels great, kissing your cheeks, the breeze pushing pleasantly warm air over your arms. You tilt your face up to feel it all the better.

Hours later you find yourself emulating that pose. Your face is turned up to the sight of Hendery standing on the second floor of the house, speaking to the crowd of partygoers. He’s decked out again, hands gleaming silver with rings and bracelets. A drunken couple of girls giggles beside you, falling over each other, and one of them mentions how sexy Guanheng looks with his hair like that.

You have to agree. Sex hair that he’d never fixed does look quite good on him.

You’d raked your fingers through it as he went down on you, sucking your life through your dick until a knock on the door of his suite of rooms announced the arrival of Xuxi and Dejun, who in turn announced that other party guests were starting to show up.

And now he presented his hair messed by your fingers in front of the whole party while you stood below, drinking something Hendery had shoved into your hands before he dashed up the stairs to make a speech.

He’d already introduced you around to a few people. Xuxi and Dejun, of course, and then also a singer, an actor, a producer, a rich kid whose daddy owned a car company and made the guy a racecar driver the minute he turned 18. All old friends, he told you, and as you looked at them and Hendery, you could see the connections, the constellation that they made. Age-old lights gleamed in their eyes.

You wanted to tell Hendery that he wasn’t nearly as alone as he might think. He was like all the stars in the night sky, part of something greater than they could see from where they stood.

The party raged on. You saw faces you’d only ever seen in entertainment spreads before, heard names that you’d written about. There were things going on there that you knew would fetch a pretty penny if you wrote about them, but though your hands itched to write, they were tied behind your back by your promise to Hendery. Nothing you saw tonight would make it to the gossip columns.

Even when you saw Sicheng, Hendery’s actor friend, flirting with a pretty young actress who was rumored to be dating an actor that she was filming a movie with, you kept your hands still. Even when he pulled her into his lap and she kissed his face and giggled, you just distracted yourself from the urge to write a news story by instead staring at Hendery, reminding yourself of the promise, distracting yourself with fantasies.

Hendery caught you looking a few times. It’s the fifth time as you’re looking at him over the edge of your glass that he grins back at you, draping his arm over your shoulders. “What’re you looking at?” He laughs, pulling you close enough that he can affectionately rub his head against yours.

“Just you,” you tell him.

Hendery keeps smiling a wide, loose smile that spreads wider than normal due to the alcohol. He slides his arm from your shoulders, instead laying a hand on your thigh. You stare at it, remembering the way his fingers had moved on the keys of the piano earlier, wishing that he would touch you as he’d touched that instrument, to master playing your strings and keys as well as he was with the instruments in that room.

“You really like him, don’t you?” The boy sitting across from you both says. You look up and see one of Hendery’s friends looking at the pair of you and how close you sit, the familiar way in which he touches you. “How long have you known each other?”

Xuxi butts in then, “Like two days. I caught him blowing Hendery in his closet when I was leaving yesterday. They didn’t seem too close, something about a phone, right?” He squints at you and you nod. That is what it had been. Then. But things had changed for you since then. “Clearly I was wrong, and you’ve gotten closer since I left. I thought we both were leaving, huh? Not fair that you traded me in your bed for him, Hendery.” He raises his eyebrows at you and Hendery.

Hendery’s hand leaves your thigh, and he grabs for the drink in Xuxi’s hand instead. “Fuck off. As if it means anything when we mess around, Xuxi? And it’s not like it’s a big deal.” He gestures between you and him, and then tilts his head back and downs the glass in one gulp.

You want him to lean back beside you, settling his warmth around you like a comfort in this strange atmosphere of his friends and his guests, but Hendery moves farther away, drowning himself for a few moments in a drink that someone hands to him. And then after that he leaves you there as he goes to talk to someone he spotted across the room.

The night had been going well.

Hendery kept his distance after that, winding deeper and deeper into the maze of the house, always fitting himself into the hearts of groups, dancing away any time that you finally spot him. You comfort yourself in the company of his producer friend, Kun, talking about some of the tracks and artists he’s been working with lately, talking about the time you did a story on him and his partner before he branched off to make a solo production company.

You try not to feel hurt that Hendery’s abandoned you at the party he invited you to stay for. But as the night grows later, edging toward dawn, Kun leaves the party, and you consider leaving as well. You did tell your boss you’d send him your story today, and Hendery’s not paying any attention to you, so maybe you should head home. You go in search of Hendery to tell him you’re leaving.

One of the pretty girls from earlier in the night has edged her way closer to him, and you find Hendery with this girl pressed up on him, perched in his lap. She’s laughing and clinging to him, and Hendery lets her. And then his eyes land on you. His arm on the girl’s waist tightens and she squeals in delight, kissing at his neck, giggling and murmuring sweet words to him, slipping her hand down between them so she can touch him.

His eyes slide from yours as he turns toward the girl, pulling her mouth to his.

You shouldn’t be upset. You knew what this was.

You were a hook up at the gala, a one night stand when you came to get your phone. Hendery is just a rich boy, a playboy who fucks around with anyone pretty who catches his eye. It’s not anything more than just a no-strings hook up when you’re with him. You have no right to feel upset by what you see.

But you do anyway.

You turn on your heel before you see anything else. You move through the party without noticing anyone or anything, brushing by people, knocking over something that luckily doesn’t break onto the ground (no matter how much you want it to, just to see something that looks the way you’re feeling right now—jagged and broken and out of place, all spread over the floor).

Already you’re out the door and halfway down the drive when you realize you don’t have your phone. Or your clothes. You’re still wearing Hendery’s borrowed clothes and you’d left your phone in his room, and you’ll be damned if you have to come back here for either of those reasons again.

You’re already stripping out of the clothes the second you step through the doors into his room, and before the door swings shut behind you, you hear footsteps, and then the door pushes open again, Hendery says your name.

You glance back at him, at the even more unkempt state of his hair and the way that his shirt’s collar is tugged askew. There’s a smear of that girl’s lipstick on his throat.

He says your name again.

“What? Why’d you leave her? It seemed you really liked her, Hendery. I mean, please, don’t let me leaving ruin the fun you were about to have.” You say. “I’m just getting my phone and my clothes and then I’ll be gone, and you can go back to using sex as a coping mechanism and a means of distancing yourself from people who want to be close to you. Have you ever thought maybe you want to be alone? That you cause this for yourself by pushing people away, not letting them get close to you?”

You drop his borrowed shirt over the back of a chair in his sitting room, and you keep walking toward the bedroom. You hear him following you.

“Maybe,” you continue, “you don’t want to be vulnerable and open. You just want to keep to your dark broodiness, you want to keep yourself isolated so you have something you can complain about because you’re so incomprehensibly wealthy that you don’t have any other problems to deal with, so you’ve created one for yourself.”

You drop the pants, and then reach for your own clothes that are piled right where you left them the day before. His bedsheets are still a mess, you can see a gross cumstain on the sheets, and you freeze, remembering for a moment how it had felt as he fucked you on his bed, his body covering yours from behind, your hips grinding against the sheets, his teeth digging into your shoulder and neck, and the way you’d moaned at the feel of his cock pounding inside you, right against your prostate.

A hand touches yours, and Hendery brings you around to face him.

“Are you really going to leave?” His voice sounds small. “Don’t go.”

He dips forward as if to kiss you, to reel you back in to his orbit so easily. But you push at his shoulders, and say, “This is what I’m talking about. You’re using sex to make yourself feel better, to manipulate people into getting close. But you don’t want anyone to stay.”

“Please?” Hendery latches onto your hand again. “Stay. The chef’s already up, he’ll make us whatever we order, anything at all. Name the most delicious thing you can think of, and I’ll send down for him to make it. Stay for breakfast.”

“Hendery.” You groan, and push at his chest again. “I don’t care about that. I’m going to leave because I need to go home and sleep so I can finish my story for my boss. I’ll grab a burger on my way home, a cheap, disgustingly greasy burger. Why don’t you go find that pretty girl who was so eager to get into your pants. Or Xuxi, you’ve already made it obvious that he’s fine with warming your bed. Or I’m sure you’ve still got guests down there who would be so excited to have you fuck them or throw your wealth at them. And even if not, you’ve got all this around you, I’m sure you can preoccupy yourself somehow. Maybe count all that jewelry in your closet, but don’t pretend for a second that you want me to stay because I actually mean something to you.”

“I don’t care about all that! I don’t want it!” Hendery cries in frustration as he pulls the rings from his fingers and throws them across the room. You hear them bouncing and plinking off the tiles and the wall and the windows. “Don’t you get it? Haven’t I already made it clear? All of this money doesn’t do a damn thing for me! I’m still lonely. I still feel like no one appreciates me for anything other than my money or for sex. They all are only interested in what I can give them!”

But then he steps forward, his hand touches your cheek, and then he touches the other, cupping your face between his hands. And in a voice far gentler than the one he’d just been using, Hendery says, “Except for you. You are the first person I’ve met in I don’t even know how long who’s made me feel like I’m more. The way you look at me, I don’t feel like you’re looking at just me on the surface, you’re looking deeper. Maybe that’s a lame thing to say, but I feel like a person when I’m with you. Like I can feel things and want things, like I don’t have to give and give and give. I can see that you want me, that you love the way I make you feel when we have sex, but it’s not like that’s all I see when you look at me. You listen. Even when I’m talking absolute nonsense about stories of dragons in the sky, when I’m banging out a bad tune on the piano, anything I’ve said, you’ve listened.

“And you’re right. I do use sex to cope, to fill in this gaping hole of loneliness, and I fail every time and I’m still hollow and aching. I want to have people close to me, but it scares me. I haven’t— I haven’t been open with someone totally in years and I got hurt, and maybe I shouldn’t be telling you all this because we don’t really know each other well and you’re a reporter so if things go wrong then you’ve got this shit to write a story about. But I opened up and got hurt and I’m so lonely and tired of feeling used, and you’re the one person I’ve met in so long who doesn’t make me feel like a vending machine for what other people want of me.

“So stay. Please stay.” Hendery drops his forehead against yours.

And just like that, you do.

Not because he wants you to. Not because of that whole eloquent speech (well, okay, partially because of both of those things), but you stay because you want to. Because over the last approximately thirty-two hours that you’ve spent with Hendery, you got to see a side of him that you really liked. The boy behind the mask his father made for him. A boy who’s more than just lonely, but a boy who wants to be heard and seen, who wants to be loved for who he is.

You don’t know what that trauma is from his past that hurt him so he pushes people away while desperately begging them to come closer. All you know is that with his hands on your cheeks and his forehead against yours, you slide your arms around his waist and never want to let him go again.

Dawn finds you wrapped together in the garden, a thick blanket draped around both of you as you sit together and enjoy cheap, disgustingly greasy burgers from a 24 hours place that’s not too far off, just a short drive there and back. You rest your head on Hendery’s shoulder, listening to the sounds of nature waking, and the snores of a few partiers who passed out on the patio nearby.

Eventually, as Hendery starts nodding off, you convince him up onto his feet as the first rays of sunlight spread across the lawn, and together you return to his room, crawling into bed with dew still wet on your toes.

Hendery really doesn’t like it when you roll out of bed when the clock shows it’s nearly noon. He groans and reaches for you, trying to grab onto any part of you to pull you back in, but you dance out of his reach.

“I really do have to go home. If I want to keep my job, I can’t miss a deadline. I’m already cutting it dangerously close.” You lean back in and kiss his forehead, earning yourself a handsome smile from him. “I’ll see you later, right?”

Hendery nods. “Yeah, I’m not pushing you away. Hey.” He grabs onto your hand, squeezing. “I am really, really sorry about things. I like you, I genuinely truly like you, and you’re totally right about my coping mechanism and everything, and I’m stupid for trying to hook up with that girl last night when I’m fully aware of how much I like you. Like, a crazy amount. I promise,” he says so honestly and soberly that your heart beats faster, “That I am going to try my hardest to not do anything that will mess this up. So, please, come back after you’ve written a wonderful story about my father’s gala and the handsome and charming Huang Guanheng that you met there.”

A week later you find yourself back in Hendery’s arms, though this time he’s at your humble abode, squeezed into your bed, both of you pretending that you can’t hear your upstairs neighbor yelling at her husband.

“It’s not as nice as your house.” You apologized when you let Hendery in, but he didn’t seem to care. His eyes moved over every square inch of your apartment. The small kitchen, the living room which was a futon and a coffee table that was covered with half-drunk coffee mugs, old drafts of stories your editor had sent you all marked up in red with necessary revisions, your laptop, a goldfish bowl that was now home to a lovely little cactus ever since your beta fish died, and a tall stack of books.

At the other end of your single-room apartment was a divider you’d drawn across the space to shield your bed from view if ever you decided to entertain anyone. Not that the divider seemed to block Hendery’s curiosity, and a few seconds after he stepped inside he was guiding you by the hand toward your own bed. It took no time to strip each other and then Hendery had you on your back, your fingers twisted in his hair as he sucked your cock.

Hendery’s mouth was heaven, his talent with his tongue left you speechless, tugging on his hair in a way that had him moaning in delight, and just as you’re riding up to the edge of your orgasm with your hips rocking up off the bed, Hendery pulls off, dropping all contact.

You gasp and sit up, ready to whine and beg, but Hendery’s just stepping back to root through his pocket for a condom.

“What are you doing?” You ask, clenching your bedsheets in your fingers. “I have condoms. Get back over here.” You reach under the edge of your bed, bringing out a condom as well as a bottle of lube. Hendery drops his pants back on the floor, and you tip back onto your back, spreading your knees apart for him to fit between your legs.

You look up at your ceiling as you listen to Hendery popping the cap on the bottle of lube, squirting some out onto his fingers. He kisses your thighs, nipping at them lightly with his teeth as he works the lube over his fingers, warming it up a bit before he carefully eases one finger inside you, opening you up for him, sucking at your cock once again.

In no time, Hendery has you close again.Three fingers in, his mouth working magic on you as well. You tug and pull on his hair, dragging him up off your cock, and Hendery kisses a fiery trail up your body until he reaches your lips.

“I need you. Now.” You moan.

Hendery swiftly rolls the condom down his length, then pulls you up as he lies down. “I want you to ride, Daddy.”

Too eager to have him inside of you, you immediately move to straddle him, sitting right down on him. Hendery wraps his hand around your dick, swiping his thumb over your tip, cooing at you and telling you how good you look riding Daddy’s cock. It’s hard to not focus on just getting yourself off.

The way Hendery’s hitting so deep inside you, his cock brushing past your prostate each time you drop your hips back on him. And his hand on your cock, jerking you off at the same pace as you’re riding him. It’s all too much.

“Hendery!” You cry out, so close to your orgasm. He pulls his hand away, instead grabbing at your hips, holding you right where he wants you so he can thrust up into you, fucking you with hard, quick thrusts that soon have you cumming untouched onto his belly. And as soon as you’ve finished, he’s touching you again, a hand wrapped around your spent, sensitive cock, and he continues fucking you at a brutal pace.

You’re certain your neighbors can probably hear you, but you can’t hold in your moans, whimpers of oversensitivity.

Hendery nails your prostate with each thrust, and your cock keeps blurting out drops of cum onto his belly, his hand milking you for all you’ve got.

When you can take no more, you collapse on top of him, and Hendery just holds your hips tighter and chases his own orgasm, moaning in your ear, saying, “You feel so right around Daddy’s cock. God, so tight. Like you were made for me.”

You moan and tuck your face into his shoulder, biting his skin lightly between your teeth as Hendery cums. His body shudders under you, his cock jerking and filling the condom inside you, and you cum again too at the feeling, just adding more to the sticky mess on your bellies.

Hendery wraps his arms around you and you stay like that, dozing off with him still buried inside you. It’s only when your neighbors start arguing that you wake, and Hendery reluctantly leaves the bed at last to dispose of the condom.

You roll over and bundle up in your sheets, then you notice him reaching for his clothes. “What are you doing? Stay.”

You throw back the blankets, ready to forcefully pull Hendery back into bed with you, but you find that unnecessary as he drops his clothes and tackles you back into bed as if all he’d been waiting on was an invitation to stay. As if all he wanted was to be wanted in return.

This time you wrap your arms around him, his head on your shoulder as you play with his hair, and you tell him that later you’ll make dinner for him, there’s a recipe you saw online you wanted to try out. Hendery clings to you, presses a smile against your bare skin, and tells you, “I can’t wait.”

And later, when you do finally drag yourselves out of bed (after another round or two), you cook dinner with Hendery hovering at your side, not quite sure how to help you but eagerly wanting to take part. And so what if it doesn’t turn out quite the way you want it? A little bit burnt around the edges, a dash or eight too much salt. You and Hendery made it together and you eat it together and laugh and then drown out the flavor with the alcohol he digs out for you.

That night, after drinking yourselves to a point where you both feel light and happy, Hendery lets you do whatever you want with him. He lets you spread him out on your bed so you can kiss over every inch of him. He sighs with pleasure when you drip wine over his chest and lick it off his skin, drinking it from the hollow of his throat.

Hendery cums embarrassingly quick when you grind against him, licking and sucking at his throat and murmuring dirty things against his skin, whimpering how needy you are for Daddy’s cock to fill you up again.

He fucks you later against the window, telling you that he wants the whole city to see how you look with him inside you, and you look at your reflection in the glass.

You see Hendery behind you, like the first time you were together, but this time his face isn’t cold indifference just trying to feel something. No, this time Hendery’s eyes burn with passion, his face shows the strain of trying not to cum again already as your walls flutter and clench around him.

This time Hendery touches you all over, his fingers leaving burning trails over your skin, like asteroid tails on the night sky.

This time Hendery kisses your neck and pulls you back against him so he can reach around you and palm at your cock, so he can feel it when you cum, dripping down over his fingers, painting the window.

This time Hendery buries his face against your shoulder and doesn’t let go. He doesn’t put a mask on to hide his face from you. He just holds you close enough that you can feel his heart beating against your back.

When you wake in the morning, it’s to the feel of Hendery slipping back into bed. His socks touch your bare leg. Cold fingertips skim your back, and you shiver, flinching away. His breath warms your shoulder and he sneaks his cold hand once more onto your skin, over your belly where he presses his palm flat as he whispers to you, “I got breakfast.”

You open one eye and look at him. There’s a flush in his cheeks like he’d run up the stairs. He’s wearing your jacket.

“How did you get back inside?” You yawn and roll over, stretching your arms up and then flopping into place on top of Hendery’s chest.

“An older lady was leaving just as I was coming back. She let me in.” Hendery pokes at you. “But I brought breakfast back. Get up and come eat it.”

Everything feels so domestic as you sit down on your futon with Hendery. He unloads the breakfast. You open your laptop, checking your emails to see if your editor has any news for you. You eat together. Hendery tells you about his dream from last night about being on an airplane, and something about a pregnant woman and a cat. It’s simple and easy and you both bask in the pleasure of each other’s company.

Hendery’s in the middle of pulling you apart on his fingers, swallowing your moans as he stretches your hole wider, when there’s a knock on the door of his rooms. You whine as he rolls you off of him, drags the sheet up to cover you both, and calls for whoever it is to enter.

The man who comes inside is no one you've ever met, but you recognize him all the same. Hendery’s father.

His eyes land on you first, half-hidden in his son’s bed, and then he looks at Hendery. “You’ve been keeping busy while I was away. My assistant says you haven’t been into the office.”

It’s been weeks that this has been going on with Hendery. You’ve spent nearly every day together to at least some degree, and you’ve definitely not heard him say anything about going into the office. Instead the two of you have mostly been spending time together, in between making out and having sex, you’ve also been watching movies together, teaching Hendery how to cook, he’s started teaching you a bit on the piano. You’ve hung out with some of his friends, particularly Kun, the producer, as you convinced both of them to try to make some music together, and Hendery dove headfirst eagerly into it, and Kun was extremely supportive.

But now, with Hendery’s father standing in front of the pair of you, you can already see that light that’s been growing steadily brighter in Hendery diminishing again. You slide a hand onto his shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze. His father notices.

“Maybe if you weren’t so focused on fucking whatever pretty creature slithers into your bed, Guanheng, maybe then you wouldn’t be such a disappointment,” his father says.

Hendery drops his head forward, not looking at his father anymore.

But you do. You glare at the older man. “Just because he’s not following the rigid life you chose for him doesn’t make him a disappointment. Hendery is amazing. He’s incredibly talented and smart, and he doesn’t need you to tell him how to succeed.”

Hendery grabs your hand tightly. “Stop.”

You look at him, at the downtrodden look on his face. He jerks his head. You close your mouth, but you have so much more you want to say. Hendery is a fantastic person. His father is an asshole. You want to say as much, but you know that it’s not what Hendery wants or needs right now.

“I’m sorry, Father.” Hendery ducks his head lower in apology. “I allowed myself to get distracted. I’ll come by this office this afternoon.”

His father nods and then turns and leaves the room. The door of the suite slams shut behind him, and as soon as it does, Hendery slumps back into the pillows.

“Hendery....”

He shakes his head and closes his eyes. “Don’t.”

You wish you could leave it. Hendery clearly doesn’t want to talk about what just happened. But you do.

“Why do you let him walk all over you like that? If you don’t want to follow him in the business then don’t.” You crinkle the bedsheets up between your fingers. “Follow music. Or something else you’re passionate about. Don’t make yourself miserable to make your father or anyone else happy.”

Hendery groans and rolls away, rising out of bed so he can pace. You watch him like this, admiring his body in the clear light streaming through the windows. He rakes his fingers through his hair. “You don’t understand what it’s like. The business is my future. It always has been, and my father makes sure that it always will be.”

You frown and scoot to the edge of the bed to be closer to him. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” he says as he comes to stand still in front of you, and continues, “that my father has always been the one controlling my life. He chose my friends. He chose my schooling and my teachers. He chose my first girlfriend. It was up to him to approve of anyone that I tried a relationship with, and it was my father who ruined the first real relationship I had, the only time I’ve ever fallen in love.”

You wait, knowing he’ll elaborate if he wants to.

Hendery continues without you having to prompt him for more. “The autumn I turned eighteen, I fell in love with a girl a year older than me. Father had called her in to tutor me in economics, but I was already kinda, I guess, what everyone calls me. A playboy, fuckboy, manwhore. All of the above.” He pushes his fingers nervously through his hair again, squinting as he stares past you out the window into the bright sunlight. “Anyway, I managed to seduce her, so lessons were less likely to be about economics and much more about anatomy. But then it turned slowly from sex and pretending that we were learning economics, to me actually taking her out on dates, and I fell in love with her and she, like you, tried to convince me that I didn’t need my father or the business. She didn’t know about my music, but she tried showing me different career paths. And then one day while she was meant to be tutoring me, Father walked in and found us together and a little bit more digging revealed what she’d been telling me, trying to convince me to do. And then she broke up with me, which was devastating in itself, but then Father told me that he’d paid her to leave me. Just one check from him was enough to eliminate everything between us. And then, to top it all off, a few weeks later she was back, actually tutoring me, and then she became my latest, newest model of a stepmother. She lived it up rich for a few months until Father grew tired of her.”

“I still don’t understand why that means that you have to do something that you’re so dispassionate about?” You ask.

Hendery sinks down to his knees, and you watch as he lays his head on your lap. “Because. He’ll find a way to ruin anything good I try to make for myself outside of what he wants.” He takes your hand and brings it to the back of his head, so you begin stroking his hair. “It hasn’t really mattered in a long time. Not since her. He didn’t care if I was fucking around, if I was jetting off to parties on the other side of the world as long as he knows there are other wealthy people there to make connections with. He doesn’t care as long as whatever I do will profit him in the end. And it didn't matter because up until a few weeks ago, I didn’t have anything for him to ruin because there was nothing I loved enough for it to matter. But then I met you.”

You pause, your fingers going still in his hair, your breath catching in your throat.

Hendery, the once cold and indifferent playboy you’d let fuck you in the bathroom for a fun night, now tilts his head in your lap and looks up at you so softly, his gaze tender and warm on your face.

“I love you,” Hendery tells you in a voice so quiet and small that it could almost get lost in this room. “Please don’t leave me.”

You can’t help the noise you make. One of alarm and sadness and reassurance and love and need. You curl your fingers against whatever part of Hendery you can touch, and you pull him up. He climbs back into the bed, over you, covering your body with his, and then his mouth is smooth and sweet on yours.

“I love you,” you tell him too, feeling the truth of it swelling, burning and beating in your chest.

And Hendery repeats, “Don’t leave me.”

You know there’s such a depth behind those words. Now, it’s more than just a lonely boy who doesn’t want to sleep alone. More than a lonely boy who sees someone who finally listens and sees him too for who he really is beneath his facade. Now, you hear the plea of a broken-hearted boy who has had the love bought and sold from right between his fingertips.

You hold his face in your hands. “Never,” you promise, and seal it with a kiss.

Hendery’s money is the last thing on your mind. You don’t care one bit for it. You like going on cheap dates with him to the movies on a Tuesday afternoon when it’s cheapest, even if the movies showing are only the bad ones. You amuse yourself by taking him with you on public transportation, both of you leaning together and making up stories about the other passengers; some of them are so funny that you both burst into laughter, drawing odd looks from everyone around you. You enjoy lazing about in the garden of his home, sunbathing beside the pond, or sitting beside the pool while you write your latest entertainment story, Hendery swimming laps and singing up at the sky, his voice echoing off the side of the hostage and the trees and hedges on the property.

His father doesn’t like you, and all three of you know that.

He doesn’t hide it.

When you sneak down from Hendery’s bedroom at midnight to steal a snack from the refrigerator, and his father is just concluding a video call, and you bump into him as he comes out of his office, he just scowls at you. When you and Hendery are sitting at the pool with Kun and Xuxi and Dejun, laughing and filming Hendery for a music video for the song he and Kun have put together (with a little vocal assist from Dejun), his father nearly explodes. And while you and the other three boys flee back to the safety of the music room, you can hear Hendery’s father shouting about how music isn’t a viable career choice, that it’s useless.

Hours later, Hendery fucks you until you’re both numb from the intensity of multiple orgasms, and he wraps himself so tightly around you, that you’re not sure the knots of his fingers with yours will ever untangle.

And finally, after months, when Kun and Hendery have compiled a few songs, Kun wants to release the music as an EP.

Naturally, you encourage him to go for it.

And word of it gets back to his father.

Hendery’s just left your apartment one morning, the taste of him still lingering on your tongue, and you’ve just sat down to work on your latest story—an exclusive interview you’d snagged with the lead actors of an upcoming film that was slated to be a big hit at international film festivals. There’s a knock on your door, and at the same time as you hear it, you spot Hendery’s wallet left behind in the mess on your coffee table.

You grab it up and spring toward the door.

But when you open the door, it’s not Hendery standing on the other side.

“Mr. Huang?” You stare in confusion at Hendery’s father, looking so out-of-place on your doorstep. “Can I help you?”

“May I come in?” He asks, but he’s already stepping inside.

He enters your apartment and looks around with such a judgmental eye that you almost just walk out your door to avoid whatever harsh words are surely about to come out of his mouth. But you stick firmly to your spot, letting the door swing shut as you stare at him.

He turns to face you after he’s had his fill of your apartment. “Mr. Y/L/N, I don’t know what your parents taught you about respecting them, but I have always demanded absolute respect from my son. Guanheng has always been a distracted boy, easily caught up in things, finding himself miles away from where he needs to be. But he’s always respected me and the wishes I have for his path in life. I have done my best to keep him on the straight and narrow, but clearly, there are times when he doesn’t heed my guidance.” He looks pointedly at you. “Right now, he is straying from the path, and it’s my duty to make sure he returns and won’t stray again. You understand?”

Yes, you understand what he’s saying. But no, you don’t agree with it.

“Mr. Y/L/N, it has come to my attention that you have been encouraging my son to pursue music, which is a fickle industry and not worthy of his time. It’s simply not a good path for him. That friend of his, Mr. Qian, his father has ties in the industry that gave him a great leg up when he began. Mr. Qian has a talented ear, and he lives up to the standards that his father set for him. But those same standards fall far below what I expect of Guanheng, you understand? Guanheng already has his path laid out before him, nice and safe and smooth from his birth until his death. Following me into the business means he’ll never have to worry about a thing.”

On some level you know that, but does a safe, boring life have to take precedence over an uncertain, yet passionate life?

Hendery’s father looks you straight in the eye and says, “This dangerous path you’re leading him on is unacceptable. I am willing to give you ten million dollars if you will drop this subject and leave my son alone. Ten million, all yours, to just stay out of my son’s life and stop ruining it.”

You can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of you. “Are you kidding? You think I am the one ruining his life by encouraging him, showing him positivity and love, showing an interest in the things that he enjoys, rather than just squashing them out of him until his life is flat and dull and lonely? Sir, I mean no disrespect when I say this, but you are the one ruining his life.” You take a step back, open the door of your apartment, and gesture out of it. “I love your son. Completely. No amount of money or bribery you can offer will convince me to break his heart. Please leave.”

You don’t wait to watch him go. You walk away from the door and back over to where you left your phone. You immediately pick it up and call Hendery. You tell him about what just happened, not to start any shit between him and his father, but just because you feel that being open and honest about what just happened is crucial. You want him to know that you will never leave him, that you don’t want to leave him.

The warmth of summer is finally sticking, penetrating even the house, and you and Hendery hang outside, floating on your backs in the pool or seeking the coolest patch of shade in the garden.

He’s stretched out on his back in a shady patch of grass as you look down into the koi fish pond nearby. You hear a splash and when you look over you see a little frog. He squirms when you pick him up, but then he sits in your palm, a soft damp little body, quivering in your palm. You walk towards Hendery to show him, but as soon as you call his name and are within a few feet of him, Hendery swears and scrambles away.

“What are you doing with that? Oh my god! Put it back!” He runs as far away as he can while he can still see you to make sure that you walk back to the pond and leave the frog there.

“I’m sorry!” You laugh. “I didn’t know you were scared of frogs.” You wipe your hands off on your shorts and settle down in the shade, beckoning him over to join you. He comes over cautiously, as if he thinks you’re going to pull another frog out of nowhere. “Hendery, I’m sorry.”

He makes a face at you and finally does come closer, sitting with his legs folded in front of him, and you take that opportunity to lay your head in his lap.

“What else are you afraid of?” You ask. “Or is it just frogs?”

“Toads, too. And heights. Sometimes the dark, but only really pitch black dark, like in a cave or somewhere with zero light penetration.” He shivers. “And you know, also, being lonely. Losing you.”

You make a face up at him. “Cheesy.” You grab his hand, holding it over your heart. “But same. I’m scared of losing you. I’m scared of the dark, needles, and this one ridiculous scary story a friend told me when I was a kid.” You shudder just remembering the story, unable to even bring yourself to put it to words. “But we’ve got each other, right? I’ll keep you safe from frogs, and you can keep me safe from needles. But we’ll both have to do something about the dark.”

You’re still laying like that in the grass when afternoon begins to sink towards evening, the sun turning the sky amber, the grass striped emerald and navy. The first early stars begin to peek through.

And that’s when Hendery’s father strolls out into the garden. He’s on his phone, so he doesn’t seem to notice either of you at first, but Hendery stiffens.

“Have you spoken to him yet?” You ask. Hendery was so angry that day when you called to tell him about the bribe his father had offered you to leave him. You were so sure that a nasty argument was going to ensue, but Hendery hadn’t said anything to you about it yet.

“No, I’ve been too angry.” Hendery’s fingers clench, flexing against your chest. “And he’s been away. Plus I’m a little bit scared.”

You lay your hand reassuringly over his. “Don’t be afraid. You can’t let him control your life.”

Hendery nods, and you watch his face as a look of pure determination and strong will takes over. He taps your shoulder, and you sit up so he’s free to get to his feet.

You watch Hendery strut across the garden and come up to his father who is still on the phone. You hear him say, “Father.” The older man holds up a finger, not even sparing Hendery a glance. Hendery looks back at you, then takes a deep breath, steeling himself, and he faces his father again. “Father, I’m marrying Y/N and we’re moving to America.”

Both are outright lies, but they send a thrill through you all the same. You imagine marrying Hendery in a small, formal ceremony. Owning a home together, moving somewhere new together, or just traveling the world together and experiencing all the great places there are to see.

The fantasy fades as you realize that his words caught his father’s attention too.

“I’ll call you back,” he says into his phone, and then all of his attention is on his son. “What the fuck did you just say to me?”

You watch as Hendery tenses his shoulders, clenches his fists tightly at his sides, and tells his father, “I’m marrying him because I love him, and I’m never going to be alone again because of something you’ve done.”

His father looks from Hendery to you, and then back at Hendery. “Do you think you’re really going to be happy like that? Married to a mediocre reporter? And what if I cut you off?”

“I’d rather be poor and happy than always second-guessing the motives of people who get close to me.” Hendery spits back. “At least I know he won’t betray me for money, not ten million dollars, not a billion, not for all the stars in the sky. I just want to be happy, Father. He supports me, from the day we met, he’s supported me in pursuing music. I love making music. Kun and I have been working together to produce some stuff, and I want to release it. If it flops, then it flops, and I’ll just continue making music for me and anyone who wants it. If it’s successful, then that’s even better. But I just want to try to be happy, and you’ve made it clear time and again that that is not something you want for me.”

You can hear cars passing by on the road outside the property. Birds singing in the trees. But in the air between father and son, it is entirely silent for a few long seconds.

It feels like a private moment, something that you shouldn’t really be seeing even though for the past few months, it’s felt like everything has been building toward this moment. You want to look away, yet even when you do turn to look down at your hands, you can still hear them.

You hear Hendery’s father clear his throat and say a quiet, “Well.” Then it’s silent for another little while before he gathers together the words to say. “I do want you to be happy, Guanheng. I want you to be secure and happy, and that is always why I’ve pushed you toward this future I had planned. A nice stable future where you would never have to worry about anything, where you can be happy. Music is a hobby, not a job. And you fall in love with people who try to tell you that it’s a viable life choice, but it’s not, Guanheng. I’m just trying to protect you. Is following my footsteps into the business such an appalling thing? So horrible to you, so unsettling and disheartening, that you would leave me and disown me as your father?”

It sounds a bit like a guilt trip, in your opinion, but you keep your eyes on your hands, your mouth closed.

“You’re an adult, and maybe it’s time I let you make your own decisions, your own mistakes to learn from.” He clears his throat again. “I do want you to be happy. Maybe I don’t show it in the proper ways, but I mean it.”

You lift your head then, just checking on them. And as you look, you catch his father’s eye.

He’s still looking at you as he says, “Release your music, Guanheng. Marry your boyfriend. But I don’t want you to give up on the company. If music falls through, you’re taking a job in the company, and that’s the last I’ll hear of it. Be happy, but be secure in your future too.”

Hendery relaxes. Those tense knots in his body all loosen at once. “Thank you.”

And then you watch as his father claps a hand down on Hendery’s shoulder, then draws him in for a hug.

“Your mother always loved music too.” The words are spoken quietly, intended only for Hendery, but the garden is so silent you can’t help but overhear. “I guess you got that from her.”

He pulls out of the hug abruptly and walks back inside, leaving Hendery frozen in his spot. You push up to your feet and go to join him, wrapping your arms around him.

“He never talks about my mother.” Hendery tells you. “And he said yes? Are we sure that’s my father?”

You smile and kiss his cheek. “Are you happy?”

“Beyond. I should call Kun, tell him to go ahead.” He reaches for his phone, and as he scrolls through it for Kun’s contact, he looks up to meet your eyes. “And I wasn’t lying, you know. I do believe I want to marry you.”

“I want that too.”

And after Hendery calls Kun, after they celebrate and excitedly talk over the phone for like an hour and a half while the nighttime settles around you. After it all, it’s just you and Hendery, stretched out together in the now mild summer night, looking up at the stars.

“Remember that first night?” Hendery asks you. “Do you remember the stories I told you?”

You look up at the constellations visible overhead, all those tiny stars millions of lightyears away, the patterns that they make from your viewpoint down here. “I remember. I remember the look on your face as you told the stories to me, the way that you looked up at the stars, like all you wanted was to be part of something great like them.”

“Yeah?”

You nod. “Yeah. You were just telling me how lonely you were, and you looked at the stars like you were jealous that they were never lonely, that they’re a part of a constellation, of a story.” You roll up onto your elbows so you can look down at Hendery. “You know, you’ve never really been alone? I’ve watched you, Hendery, the way that you are with your friends. The seven of you make a constellation of your own, and they’re all drawn into the gravity of you. Just like me. Caught in your orbit.”

“Are you saying I’m a star?” Hendery laughs. Then he teases, “You gonna make a wish on me?”

Leaning down to kiss him, you stop just a breath away from his lips. “Oh, Hendery, I’ve already made countless wishes on you, and I’m pretty sure they’re all coming true.”

And when Hendery lifts his head from the grass so his lips meet yours, that kiss feels like a new wish, burning bright in the sky.

a/n: okay this took me a little longer than it was meant to. I originally started out making this a drabble in response to this message: Aksdhgfdj Hendery the “rich playboy who would definitely treat you right for a few nights” I would like to say I’m here for IT! which was in response to what I said about how Hendery looked during this periscope he did with Xiaojun, like black on black is truly a god-tier look for Hendery (this is only made truer after I saw him during the Wayv Beyond Live concert like oh my god I was dying of thirst)

Anyway, as usual, thank you if you read all this mess. I’m pretty sure there are a few spots that are a little messy, but if you read it all, I still really really appreciate it 💗 comments and reblogs are always greatly appreciated thank you!! 💗💗💗

#hendery #hendery smut #hendery fics #wayv #wayv smut #wayv fics

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breath-of-the-hobbies · 3 years

Text

A Return to Darkness Ch. 2

(Chapter 2 of the fan-fic idea I’m playing with. Zelda awakens underground and attempts to find a way out, and Link has a bad day. Chapter 1 here.)

The smell was the first thing to break through Zelda’s unconsciousness. Judging from the acidic yet musty reek and the burning sensation all over her body, she had a bed of malice to thank for cushioning her fall. The darkness was so complete that she had to blink furiously to even be sure that her eyes were open.

She took stock, fumbling at her hip until she found the Sheikah Slate. It lit a soft circle of light at her touch, but the screen fizzed and crackled, displaying only glitched swirls of color. Broken ribs, concussion, sprained knee, she estimated as she maneuvered dizzily to her feet and retrieved her sword from where it lay nearly engulfed in malice some feet away.

“Link?” She whispered, acutely aware of the monsters they had encountered in the past months and unwilling to alert them to her present vulnerability. She swung the slate’s light across the rubble-filled ground, but her companion was nowhere to be seen. Ganon’s corpse was also absent, presumably still lying in the cavern above her.

Recalling her last sight of Link sent a stab of pain through her chest to join the throb of her ribs. The image of his anguished eyes and furrowed brow as he put aside everything to lunge towards her was imprinted indelibly in her mind. Was he still up above? Had the malice— she forced her mind away before she could complete the fatalistic thought. She had watched Link die once already, and the idea of losing him again was enough to make her breath shorten into panicked gasps. Come on Zelda, you held your own against Ganon for one hundred years. You can crawl out of a damn cave. She retrieved and lit her torch, then limped around the perimeter of the hole, leaning heavily on her sword.

It didn’t take long before she was certain that the floor above had collapsed into a nearly exact copy of the one holding Ganon’s body. The geometric carvings on the walls were the same as what she had seen in the moments before everything went wrong, and a single exit led to a path descending away and down. With no clear way up into the abyssal darkness, and no ability to teleport thanks to the malfunctioning slate, she had no choice but to venture into the tunnel, unaware of the eyes observing her retreating form from the darkness beyond her torch’s light.

It was impossible to know exactly how long she spent wandering, but Zelda came to time her rests with the regular shaking of the earth around her. Despite her newfound mistrust of the tunnels’ structural integrity, the walls and ceiling held strong around her. She fell asleep each rumbling with the spirals of the wall etchings spinning behind her eyelids.

After one such rest, she awoke with a sudden revelation dredged from the free association of her dreams. It was a memory, something Impa’s grandmother had told them when they were children. She had spoken of an ancient civilization, the Zonai, that had disappeared mysteriously long ago, leaving only ruins and secrets. Link had already mentioned that the carvings appeared Zonai in origin, resembling places he had seen in his travels, but now Zelda remembered Gran’s words. “The Zonai were not simply to be feared for their fierce prowess in arms. They were also brilliant magicians with technical advances rivaling even our best Sheikah technology. Had they not disappeared, our world would be much changed from how it appears today.” Then Gran had pulled a carved stone out of her sleeve and shown it to the children. She ran her finger along its swirls in a series of swoops, and when she finished, the entire thing began to glow an eye-searing turquoise. The young and bright-eyed Zelda had oohed and aahed, but the rather more battered young woman in the present bared her teeth in a wolfish grin and heaved herself stiffly to her feet, sweeping the light from the sad remains of her torch across the patterns that had haunted her for months.

There! she spotted a central swirl, one that all the others in the area seemed to radiate from. It took a few tries to emulate the pattern she had seen over a century ago, and she began to question herself, her mind inevitably returning to familiar paths of self-doubt. When she was almost ready to give up, the spiral lit. With a flash and a smell of ozone, radiance spread outwards, spilling into every line of the carvings until Zelda was blinded.

The earth began to shake more strongly than ever, knocking her to the ground. She curled into a protective ball as chunks of wall and ceiling crumbled around her, her stomach lurching in equal parts fear and motion sickness. After what felt like an eternity, the world calmed. The bedraggled princess pushed herself to a seated position with a groan, blinking purple afterimages from her sight. The lit carvings had settled into a calmer glow, and because of this it took her a moment to realize that a pinprick of natural light now shone at the far end of the tunnel.

Heart leaping, paying no mind to her shrieking knee, Zelda set off at a run towards freedom, her excited thoughts jumbling with ideas of newly collapsed walls forming impromptu exits. She was so quick that only reflexive bracing of her feet and scraping of her hands on the tunnel walls were able to bring her to a gut-wrenching stop as dislodged stones ricocheted over the edge of an impossible precipice.

Wind whipped her hair as she stared in utter disbelief down, down to the familiar landscape of Hyrule far below. She was in the sky.

***

Link had eaten some pretty terrible food in the past year, but after a week of clumsily cleaned mushrooms boiled with rice, he almost preferred his more dubious gastronomical experiments. At least those had some zest to them.

Although his arm was slowly regaining strength, his dexterity was lagging far behind. Stringing a bow was still out of the question, and the one time he encountered a boar in the woods, he had been mown down in humiliating fashion before he could even swing his blade. The mushrooms and occasional carrot were a far less likely source of embarrassment.

The entire loss of his right arm would almost have been easier to cope with than his present state; the energy pouring into the ancient tech and the rot constantly trying to push onwards through his body made even the shortest climb, swim, or even run into an exhausting task. Swinging a blade with his left hand was one thing: getting knocked out after falling out of a tree was another.

Besides the draining tech and the gnawing corruption, there was a third issue with his arm that Link couldn’t quite piece together yet. He had absolute faith in Purah—despite her eccentricities—and when she told him that she had added the Stasis Rune to his arm, he had no reason to doubt her. However, when he activated the rune to halt the fleeing boar in a last-ditch attempt at meat for dinner, it failed to stop it at all. In fact, the animal actually began running backwards, nearly pummeling a dumbfounded Link a second time.

He wasn’t sure how Purah could have made such a glaring mistake, and he honestly couldn’t picture a time when making his opponent move backwards would help him do more than get a second to breathe. Once he had found Zelda, he would have to go back and ask the scientist about it. Full but not happy about it, Link rolled up in a horse blanket and fell into a fitful sleep.

He was awoken by an agonizing buzzing sensation in his right arm, as though it was being continuously electrocuted. The entire limb, from fingertip to shoulder, was shining turquoise like his own personal monster beacon. His horse whinnied and pranced in distress as Link shook his arm like a man possessed. If he hadn’t been so preoccupied, he would have noticed the ground vibrating beneath him, but by the time the glowing light and electric tingling subsided, everything was calm again.

Now thoroughly awake, the perplexed hero broke camp and led his mount back to the trail in the false dawn. It wasn’t much further to the edge of the Great Plateau, the only thing keeping Link from reaching it the night before being his newly abysmal stamina. But as he trudged up the last rise, he was sure he had gotten turned around in the half-light. Nothing looked right. The ground was churned up and littered with boulders the size of houses, and whole landmarks had shifted and changed.

The sun broke over the horizon as Link crested the hill. He was overlooking the very same vista he had first seen without comprehension or recognition after the healing sleep, yet the view could not have been more different. The plains and forests in front of Hyrule Castle were simply...gone. The ground was carved out as though miners had been hollowing the earth for centuries. After taking in this sight, ice water freezing his heart, Link’s eyes followed the progression of destruction to the foot of the castle itself. At first, the reappearance of malice clouds encircling the base obscured the truly bizarre unreality of the situation.

The entire castle was floating several hundred feet above the ground.

Slowly, unbelievingly, almost unwillingly as though fearing what he would see, Link lifted his gaze to the sky. Far above, higher even than Vah Medoh had flown, floated hulking islands of earth.

He sat down hard, gulping back the frustration that closed his throat. His princess was further out of reach than she had ever been.

#legend of zelda #breath of the wild #breath of the wild 2 #link #zelda #botw #botw2 fanfic #botw2 #botw fanfiction

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violetnotez · 4 years

Note

hello!! i came here to ask if i could request a fluffy deku x reader? basically, deku is having a conversation with todoroki and the reader is just sleeping on demi’s lap while deku is stroking her hair like a cat? thank you!!

Omg I’m so sorry this took so long to write!! nevertheless I hope you like this!

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Touch Me With Your Heart

Midoriya x reader

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 1693

Warnings: None!

MASTERLIST

———————————————————

As hard as you tried, you couldn’t keep your eyes open.

It had been a tiring yet fun day with Dekusquad, all of you deciding to go shopping at the local stores near UA High.

You had had fun with all your friends, acting silly and, for once, like teens. The whole day you had been laughing, your hand permanently glued in Izuku’s as you shopped for new clothing and tried yummy sweets.

During the day, Uraraka has spotted a sign stating there would be a outdoor Movie night out in the large grassy area on the side of the shopping mall. She instantly showed the group the flyer, her big round eyes making it impossible to say No to her pleas to go. You had to admit, though: that it sounded like an adorable way to end the night with a movie under the stars.

Shoto, Izuku, and Iida also agreed, allowing you two to drag them to the lush green space as twilight began to fall.

Izuku’s hand was still in yours the whole way, his thumb rubbing against the side of your palm. You smiled, sneaking a glance at his complexion-he was so handsome, his green locks as unruly as ever from frequently trying on different clothes (something you had to forced him to do), his emerald eyes seeming to glow under the dimming sunlight.

He looked down, your smiling face making his cheeks blush. His freckles became starkly noticeable, a cheesy grin spreading across his face. Izuku honestly loved when you looked like him like that, like he was the only person you had on your mind.

“Everything alright sweetheart?” He asked, “Are you tired?”

You smiled lazily, feeling the dull ache on the palms of your feet. Even though you two had only been dating for a month or so, you and Izuku had known each other ever since the first day of UA. Izuku could read you like a book, and you the same for him-but you still tried to pretend you were fine.

“Nope!” You beamed, mustering some energy out of your body. “Never been better,”

You began to swing his arm in your own in a skip, trying to convince him quietly that you were fine. You knew Izuku too well- if you showed any type of discomfort or tiredness, he would insist on you two going back to the dorms and calling it a night. As much as you would love to snuggle up to Izuku right now and fall in sleep in his comfy embrace, you didn’t feel like ending the night just yet. You had had too much fun with all your friends today, and it just didn’t seem fitting to end it now.

He gave you a worried look, not truly believing your words. “You sure? Because if you feel tired we can always-“

“Nope!” You cut off his words, “I’m fine, I promise,”

He sighed, knowing full well you were too stubborn to reason with.

“Alright...but if you want to leave, just tell me and-“

“There it is!” You two heard Uraraka gasp, her finger pointing at a giant patch of grass a few paces away. A giant white tarp was displayed at the end of the field, people already milling around and finding seats to watch on the red checkered blankets that were laid out.

“In order for us to get a proper viewing, we should hurry-it seems like people are already taking spots,” Iida instructed, your head nodding in agreement.

“Then what are we waiting for? Let’s go!” You smiled. You broke out into a jog down the small hill, the group following suit.

———————

Even though that quick jog had woken you up slightly, the heaviness of fatigue had hit you once again. You all had found a spot to settle in quickly, only to realize that the movie was not starting for another hour.

Since it was her favorite movie they were about to play, Iida had taken Uraraka to buy some concessions to burn off some extra excitement. That left you, Izuku and Shoto to sit idly and wait.

You were too tired to stir up a conversation, instead deciding to just listen in on Shoto and Izuku’s conversation about hero agencies. To be honest, it wasn’t the most intriguing conversation, so you opted to people watch while you waited for the movie.

It was becoming extremely hard to keep your eyes open-you were laying your shoulder against Izuku’s, your hand in his. Your thumb was soothingly tracing the scars on his hand, something you've been doing ever since Izuku had felt comfortable enough to let you hold his hands.

Midoriya was surprisingly very self conscious of his scars-he knew he shouldn’t be, but it felt like it was a constant sign of his weakness. His body still wasn’t able to fully master One-For-All, a reminder he wasn’t quite ready to step into the legendary role All Might had given him.

But to you, you saw the scars as strength: he had come so far from being the scared little boy from his past. He was barely an adult and had been in more deadly situations than he could count on his hands, but No matter what circumstances he was in he was still optimistic and determined as ever, and that’s truly what made you love him so much.

Izuku grinned warmly, cherishing the soft caresses your fingers were leaving on his skin. It took him awhile for him to get used to your constant affection, but now he was accustomed to it and absolutely adored when you touched him like this.

The sun was beginning to set though, the warmth of Izuku’s body against your own making your breaths softer as the darkness lulled your eyes to close. You tried to fight the wave of sleep trying to overtake your body, your hand still laced in his as you decided to close your eyes for just a moment-

“Uh, Midoriya,” Shoto interrupted Izuku’s sentence about the top hero agencies in southern Japan, pointing at your slumped form.

Izuku gave him a quizzical look, wondering what the problem was until he saw what Todoroki was referring to. You had fell asleep on his shoulder, your head nuzzled into the crook of his neck.

His cheecks flared red, Izuku secretly happy no one could see his evident blush under the moonlight. He had assumed your cuddling into his shoulder was you just trying to get warm, not because you were exhausted. He chuckled slightly-you really were the most stubborn person he knew.

Izuku gently shifted his body, his hands guiding your sleeping head into his lap. He tried his hardest to not wake you up-but to his surprise, you stayed completely asleep, only shifting slightly to cuddle up comfortable into his lap.

He would be lying if he didn’t say the sight of you sighing as you snuggled sleepily into his leg wasn’t the cutest thing ever.

His heart swelled as he pushed a piece of fallen hair away from your face, beginning to then pet your head as he continued his conversation with Shoto.

More and more people had filled the park, many of the seats taken by families, friend groups, and couples. The movie was bound to start soon since night had fallen, people beginning to sit into their spots and get comfortable as they awaited for it to start, soft conversation filling the park.

Uraraka came bounding back, 2 bags of popcorn stuffed under each arm as Iida tried to balance soda cups and candy in each hand.

“Y/n, you’ll never guess what we found, they had popcorn that was flavored like-“ Uraraka began excitedly, until her eyes fell upon your sleeping form. Her eyes softened, a smile forming on her lips.

“Fell asleep, huh?” She asked Midoriya, putting down the popcorn to help Iida with the concessions.

“Yep! She was acting pretty tired when we were walking over here…” Izuku smiled down at your sleeping form, continuing to pet your head to keep you asleep.

“Would you like to take her back to the dorms? I’m more than willing to give you both a ride back,” Iida offered, but Izuku kindly dismissed it.

“Oh thank you Iida! But, I think it’s best we stay-I have a feeling she wouldn’t be too happy if I missed the movie because of her.” He grinned, already knowing that was exactly you’d say if he did actually take you home.

“Very well then-just tell me if you change your mind,” Iida nodded, turning to Uraraka as she politely shushed them as the movie began to start.

————————

Halfway during the movie, your head rolled up, your eyes heavily lidded and your hair slightly disheveled.

“Y/n!” Izuku gasped quickly, bringing his calloused palm to your cheek.

“Go back to sleep sweetie, it’s okay, you’re tired-“

“Wait-did I fall asleep?”

Izuku grinned, rubbing his neck as a blush began to form again. “Yes, you fell asleep by accident on my shoulder, so I put your head in my lap-“

You smiled, the sweet gestures of your boyfriend making your heart swell.

You then tried to look to the side to see the screen, hoping to maybe stay awake if you got invested in the movie. Just as you tried to look, a sharp pain blossomed on the side of your neck, a grunt of pain slipping out of your lips.

“You okay?” Izuku whispered, his eyes wide with concern.

You sighed, groggily rubbing the place where it hurt. “Yeah, just-kink in my neck I guess…”

“Oh…” Izuku breathed out, his hands on his chin as he tried to think of a quick solution.

“Do you want to lie down instead?” He asked quietly, his voice low and sweet.

You nodded your head quickly, wanting nothing more than to cuddle with Izuku. You still didn’t want to go back home-the night was just too peaceful, the midnight sky clear as a comfortable breeze softy blew.

You wrapped your hands around Midoriya's neck instantly, feeling a chuckle rumble in his chest. One arm wrapped around your waist as the other gently guided your bodies to the ground.

You laid there for a second, listening to his strong heart beat as his chest fell rhythmically. He was so safe and so warm-

“I love you ‘Zuku.” You whispered sleepily, cuddling into his warmth as sleep began to wash over you.

Izuku blushed harder than he had before, his hand petting your head as his chest swelled.

“I-I love you too y/n.”

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#bnha #bnha x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #izuku x reader #midoriya x reader #mha x reader #bnha izuku midoriya x you #bnha imagine #bnha izuku x you #bnha izuku x reader #bnha imagines #mha izuku x you #mha izuku x reader #mha imagines #bnha midoriya x you #bnha midoriya x reader #bnha midoriya #deku #bnha deku x reader

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vventure · 4 years

Text

Change - Atsumu Miya Must Die, Ch. 1

Series Mini Mlist: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Pairing: Atsumu Miya x fem!reader

Genre: Angst (only lightly this part), Fluff

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: none for now

Summary: Atsumu Miya is a player; dating three girls from three different friend groups so they don’t find out. What happens when they do, though? And how does [Y/N] play into their plan for ultimate revenge?

A/N: This is only the first chapter, so it’s a little dull, I’m sorry! Ahh okay, welcome to my little idea that wouldn’t get out of my head. I’m really excited about this project, and I hope you guys will be too! This fic is HEAVILY inspired by the movie John Tucker Must Die, and I just felt like breaking mean ole’ Atsumu’s heart (huehuehue). I’m not sure how many parts there will be for this, but I’ll definitely make a masterlist for it when the time comes.

Taglist: @for-ests @writeiolite - message me if you want to be added!

“Atsumu Miya, there’s only one guy out there for me…” Your recorded voice blared from the flat screen in the bar as his college volleyball team and dormitory friends watched intently.

Heart racing, you frantically ripped your body from Atsumu’s arms and ran to where the TV was plugged in, cutting the power.

You didn’t make it in time, and those words you’d recorded so many months ago, before your plans were ruined by ‘Tsumu’s affections, made the room fall silent: “...and you are not...”

Whipping around, you locked eyes with the man you’d made fall in love with a fake version of you, and who you thought maybe you actually felt something for.

“What’s this?”

“I can’t believe we really just moved to Hyogo for a man,” your arms were crossed and your jaw was set as you addressed your sister Ami while riding with her to the boyfriend’s apartment. This had been a point of contention for months between the two of you.

Since the loss of your parents, Ami became your guardian. You were pretty attached to each other, and so when your sister told you that she was planning to move to Hyogo to live with her boyfriend of six months, you felt compelled to move with her. Her decisions surrounding men had always been questionable, and this was no different.

For two months while preparing to move, you’d argue every day over small things and big things alike. You didn’t do the dishes right after finishing dinner? Fight. You wanted Ami to physically meet the man she was moving in with before the move? Fight.

And to make things worse, her resentment for being saddled with a hormonal teenager to take care of in her early twenties was showing through. It hurt for you to realize her resentment towards you, no matter how much she told you she loved you and that she didn’t resent you.

Could you really blame her? Maybe a little; you were always more of an adult than she was in your shared life, and she probably resented more that she had to be a grounded adult instead of a flighty party girl.

“It’s not like this was out of nowhere, [Y/N],” your sister grumbled, shooting you a glare and pulling you from your thoughts. “Plus, you didn’t have to move, you had a place in Miyagi.”

“That’s a lot of traveling for holidays, and you know I have to keep my eye on you.”

“I’m an adult, I think I’m fine by myself,” Ami said. “You better not cramp our style while you’re staying with us.”

“So sue me for wanting to keep the only family I have left close,” you spat, looking away from your older sister. “I’ll be in the dorms in a week, resent me as much as you want until then, you’re really good at it.”

“Whatever,” she said, her attention completely leaving you as she pulled in front of a tall, sleek apartment building. This was way nicer than the one you’d shared in Miyagi, and your jaw dropped at the sight. What kind of guy was Riku anyway?

A tall man ran from the main door of the apartment building as Ami flung the car into park and jumped out without turning it off. You’d never seen her move this quickly as she ran and leapt into the arms of her boyfriend, his strong grip able to swing her around like a rag doll.

Pulling the keys from the dash, you stepped out and slung your bag over your shoulder. You thought your legs might give out after the long drive, but you willed yourself to stand and give Riku a guarded smile.

“Welcome, welcome!” He boomed, pulling you into a tight hug before picking up your bags and lugging them towards the front door. “I’ve already gotten a lot of the packages you sent, and I made sure to set up [Y/N]’s room so she’d be comfortable.”

“Rikuuu, you sweetheart,” Ami gushed, pulling his body to hers so she could plant a sloppy kiss on his lips. She’d driven the entire way from Miyagi to Hyogo and her exhaustion was showing. “So thoughtful.”

There was only one week until you could move into your dorm. One. Week. You could deal with their infatuation for one week, right?

Riku’s apartment, well-- Ami and Riku’s apartment-- was cozy. Small touches that your sister had sent through the post were littered around the main living area and it brought you a small feeling of comfort and home as you took them in.

On the coffee table sat the misshapen mug you’d made during high school ceramics. On one of the walls was a picture Ami had taken of the backyard you’d shared during the time your parents were still around. He’d even displayed a picture of you and your sister on high school graduation day. Ami had worked hard to make your life normal during the last two years of high school, and her pride over your accomplishments showed so clearly in the sunny picture.

“This is a really nice apartment,” you said, turning to look at Riku as you spoke. “Thank you for letting me stay for a week.”

“Of course, [Y/N], anyone important to my boobear is important to me.”

His pet name made you want to gag, but you swallowed it and spoke again, “Where will I be sleeping?”

“Down the hall, first door on the right,” he said, handing your bags over. “Rest a little and we’ll get something to eat. I wanna show you guys my favorite restaurant!”

Making your way down the foreign corridor, you came upon an open room that had a small bed, bedside table, and dresser. It was plain, but honestly you didn’t need it to be anything fancy. Most of your things were still stacked in boxes off to the side of the dresser in anticipation of being moved into the dorm with you, but one of the boxes was cut open, and some of its contents had found their way to the dresser top and bedside table.

A framed picture of you, Chikara Ennoshita, Hisashi Kinoshita, Kazuhito Narita, Ryuunosuke Tanaka, and Yuu Nishinoya sat on the dresser. It was taken during their final volleyball game of high school, and even though they were sweaty and emotional they agreed to take a picture with their closest friend who was always there to support them. Next to that was a framed picture of Noya and you swinging in one of the parks near school, faces split by massive smiles as you enjoyed the childish pleasure of weightless glee.

Riku had made good choices for decoration, you’d give the stranger that.

You missed these goofs already; Chikara always checking on how you were doing in college and making sure you were eating healthily and drinking water; Kazuhita texting you to make sure that you weren’t too stressed and you were taking care of yourself mentally; Hisashi coming by to take you out for boba, showing you the latest memes he’d acquired; and Yuu and Ryuu dragging you along to parties, which you always ended up enjoying no matter how much you complained about them.

Your heart ached at the memories of your friends no longer a short bus ride or walk away. 12 hours was a lot of distance between you all, and it was finally hitting you that this was not Miyagi anymore. What if you didn’t make any friends here?

It was already your third year of college, and most of the people in your classes would likely already have friend groups. How weird would you look when you moved into a dorm with people who likely knew each other?

With a sigh, you flopped face-first onto the bed and willed the fresh cotton scented bed covering to suffocate you. What if your friends from Miyagi didn’t care about your absence. You let out a half-hearted wail imagining Chikara blocking your number, irrationality taking over your brain.

“[Y/N]?” Ami’s voice drifted through the open door as she looked for you. “We’re gonna go get something to eat now, actually. Riku is hungry and I think I am too.”

She thinks she is? You rolled over and sat up to look at her.

“Y’know, Riku seems really nice. I don’t think you have to, like, change yourself for him or whatever you usually do for the guys you date,” you said while swinging your legs over the edge of the bed to stand.

Ami just rolled her eyes and rejoined Riku in the living room. You were fast on her heels, slipping out of your house shoes and putting on your sneakers.

“Alright!” Riku said with a smile. “Let’s go get onigiri!”

184 notes · View notes

murdertrialimagines · 4 years

Text

THH Girls + Chihiro Trying to Surprise F! S/O!

“Ok so I have an idea for a request, can you do the THH girls(including Chihiro, because he is amazing boi-) trying to surprise the reader(female because y e s g a y-)?”

Okay, last request before I open up for more! :3 Story under the tag!

Sayaka Maizono

Sayaka was never nervous to perform, always more than excited to shower her fans in her group’s talent

But whenever you were there, she was a wreck

She always felt like she did terribly, despite magazines and blogs raving of her topping performances

But now, she was a disaster

It should be a normal concert, at least as far as you knew

But Sayaka knew her own secret; the song she was about to debut specifically for you

After finishing what was supposed to be the last song, Sayaka took the mic

“Thank you all for coming out tonight! All of you probably knew this was the last song, but I actually have a small surprise!”

Fans screamed as you looked on from backstage, your face visibly confused

But as the lights dimmed and Sayaka’s voice filled the air, you knew exactly what was going on

Soft instrumentals you swear you’ve heard before, a tune you’ve heard your girlfriend humming for weeks

And the words-a heartwarming reference to you relationship, all of your favorite memories compressed into one song

None of her fans knew of you, yet they could feel the love and personal feelings Sayaka sang with

And as the song ended, she looked slightly your way, her teary eyes reflecting yours

The song become the number one love song of the year, playing on every station

Yet only you knew the true meaning behind it

“Did you like it?” Sayaka asked in the limo on the way home

You nuzzled into her neck, placing a kiss on her collarbone

“I could never ask for a better girlfriend, Sayaka.”

Kyoko Kirigiri

This was never the detective’s strong suit

She was silent, calculated, praised for her intellect and swift thinking when tracking criminals

Yet as she stared down the isle, she gulped as the challenge before her loomed like a case that could never be cracked

Valentines Day

Kirigiri was never one to be soft, but for you she would, as she put it, ‘Do all of the love stuff’

Speaking of love...what did you want?

She wandered down the shelves, hands reaching for stuffed animals and chocolates, only to pull away last second, her thoughts conflicting

She has an empty cart for nearly the last hour, and she knew time was running out

But time was running out much quicker than she expected, as she heard your voice just a few isles over

“Aoi, look! Let’s go see the cute bears!”

Eyes slightly widening, Kirigiri spun around to hide, promptly knocking into a display of chocolate boxes

She cursed as the boxes fell on her, the sweet avalanche burying her

As she tried to get up she felt hands removing the boxes, muffled voices outside of her confines

“Are you okay?!” Light as the box in her face was removed

She stared, as your own eyes caught hers in surprise

“Kyoko?” You asked as you helped her up, Aoi lending a hand

“Yes?” She tried to avoid the situation, brushing herself off to busy herself

“What were you doing? I thought you had class today?”

With your eyes still staring at her, she simply picked up a nearby bear, shoving it into your arms.

“Valentines.”

Your wide stare turned into a laugh, dropping the bear in turn for a hug

“You’re so cute! But don’t worry, I already have something planned.”

And she much preferred your idea, spending the day in an escape room with just you and puzzles, her two favorite things.

Aoi Asahina

Asahina had asked you to come to the mall with her this day, and as you had nothing else planned, you agreed to go

But as she distracted you in the ride-share car you two took, you realized the usual thirty minute drive had long exceeded that time

‘Uh, Aoi? We’re in the outskirts of town, is this a different mall we’re going to?”

She only hummed an ambiguous response, eyes still on the road, and topic still on the new cute bakery by the school

You watched as the towns turned from tall corporate buildings to smaller townhouses, the air smelling fresher by the mile

Before long, you had fallen asleep as the warmness of the sun provided the perfect napping environment

“Y/n, wake up! We’re here!”

You opened your eyes, wincing at the sudden light

“Where are we?”

You stood up from the car as Asahina popped the trunk, taking out her bags and thanking the driver

Sand...unbrellas...children...

“The...ocean?”

“Yup!” Asahina chirped, continuing to pull beach necessities from the trunk. “The perfect day for a swim, dontcha’ think?”

Before you could register what was happening, Aoi dragged you to the bathroom, got you both into swimsuits, and rushed you into the water

You had to admit, the water was very relaxing

And that proceeded to an entire day of just you and your girlfriend spending time swimming, having water fights, and munching on snacks

And as the sun set you both laid on towels, watching the horizon

“Hey Aoi?”

“Yes babe?”

“Don’t you have a paper due at midnight?”

“Aw, crap!”

Toko Fukawa

Nothing ever went right for Toko, did it?

All she wanted was to have a cute candlelit dinner with you in the comfort of your own home

Totally not to gain inspiration for her next book

Yet the roses, died the second she brought them home

And whilst fretting over the flowers, the food, steak and veggies, burned to a crisp

And to top it all off, Toko found a bug, and in jumping away from it with a shriek, bumped into the table and knocked over the candles, lighting the tablecloth on fire

You were at the store when the phone call came

“Hello,” You asked, ending the catchy ringtone

“Y/n, I need help! The table cloth is on fire-”

“Wait, what? Toko, what’s happening?”

“I already called the fire department but they said-AUGH THE BUG HES BACK-”

The call ended quickly, following a crash on the other end

Conveniently, sirens flew by the store you were in, and you sighed, walking out of the store and towards your home

Stepping in the house, you caught the scent of smoke, as well as Toko, covered in soot along with the table

“I wanted to surprise you...” Toko shuffled over, pulling you into a hug

“Well, this is certainly a surprise...” You chuckled

Taking Toko’s hand, you placed a soft kiss onto her forehead, just as the firemen marched in

“C’mon, let’s get takeout.”

The writer turned bright red as you walked outside

“H-hey! I didn’t say you could do that!”

Sakura Ogami

A calm day with Sakura was rare

She was always training, or sparring others to continue boosting her title

She had told you that she had away training today, and asked if you would come with

You agreed, and around noon, you two set off for the location of the event

“Sakura, are you sure this is the right area?” She asked, standing in the open area surrounded by stores. “The only martial arts related thing I see is that children’s dojo. PLease don’t tell me you’re fighting kids.”

Sakura chuckled, taking your hand. “You’re so oblivious sometimes, Y/n. We’re not training today.”

“Huh?”

Before you could get a response, Sakura lightly tugged you along, pushing you into a cute restaurant

“Today is for us. To relax together.”

“But your training-” I lied.” “Oh.”

Not complaining, you sat down at a nearby booth, swinging your legs as you two ordered your lunch

You two talked, relishing in having a moment of peace together for the first time in weeks. Simply sitting together like common girlfriends do

Yet that was sharply ended as thuds of palms against the nearby window startled you both

“Look! I told you it was Sakura Ogami! She’s the best fighter ever!”

A kid, donning a gi, was soon surrounded by other children all dressed the same, cooing at your girlfriend

Smiling, you both stood up and walked outside, greeting the kids

Enjoying their presence, you two went back to their dojo, and you watched as Sakura taught the kids new moves, all of the teachers honored to work with her

This may not have been the surprise planned, but it was certainly one you cherished, as it was with Sakura, the way it should be

Celestia Ludenberg

Dating Celeste meant extreme elegance surrounding you 24/7

Fancy dinners, shows, and galas every week

And of course, this meant showering you in gifts, from simple roses to expensive jewelry and clothes

You had told Celeste that she did not need to do this, but she said she did not mind, as her pool of money was ever growing

Plus, she liked to see you blush

Today was like any other, you had been browsing the streets when Celestia shot you a text

‘Dinner tonight, meet at my place. I left an outfit at your door. C.L.’

This was typical, her bringing you to a fancy dinner, along with providing clothes that complimented the establishment’s ambiance

You were nearly finished on your walk anyways, so you decided to catch a cab and head home

At your door as promised, was a small box. You picked it up, and after unlocking your door, headed inside

Setting down your belongings you opened the box, surprised as the simplicity of the clothing. A simple black skirt and blouse

It fit like a glove, you realized as you put it on, and headed to Celestia’s, shooting her a quick heads up

When you got to her house, you were surprised to see no driver on the street, and the lights on in the house

Before you could even knock, the door swung open, revealing Celeste in simple yet elegant clothing

“Ah, Y/n! You’re finally here.” She gave you a warm smile. “Come in.”

Stepping inside, you gasped as you saw a tasty looking dinner placed upon her wooden table

“You like it? You seem quite shocked.” She giggled as she picked up a glass and handed it to you. “I love showering us in fancy stuff but you seem to enjoy simple treats as well. So, as such, I made dinner, just the two of us.”

“Celeste, this is amazing! You made it yourself?” “Well, gambling isn’t the only thing I am good at. Now, eat up!”

Junko Enoshima

When Junko got a girlfriend, men and women around the world went crazy

Headlines with the smallest of info on you made top money, people desperate for the fashionista’s love life

However, Junko did not want you to be revealed by anyone but herself

And so, she dragged you out of bed bright and early, not telling you what was happening

“Just a nice day out!” Was all she would say

First stop was breakfast, where you two ate delicious meals prepped by top chefs

Then a nail salon, then a boutique, till you two were dolled up

And then she took you to ideal destinations, monuments, parks, zoos, and cute bakeries

You two had stopped at an ice cream parlor after an aquarium visit, each of you resting your legs while eating scoops of the store’s frozen treat

“Junko, dear, I appreciate all of this so much, but surely there is a reason for this? I mean, I would understand one place, but this day has been so expensive!”

“Don’t be so coy, sweetheart!” Junko gave a sharp laugh, taking a small bite of ice cream from her cup. “I just got a HUGE bonus from last weeks shoot, so I thought why not bring my adorable girlfriend on a trip she deserves?”

Blushing at Junko’s compliment, you took a bite of your own treat, silently agreeing to just enjoy the rest of your day

The next day you woke up to your phone beeping sporadically, buzzing on the bedside table

Turning it on, you were bombarded with photos of you and Junko, all smiles as you went about the events of the previous day

‘For my Ultimate girlfriend, Y/n’ said each photo posted

Clutching your phone to your chest, you sighed, warmth spreading through you

God, you loved this woman

Chihiro Fujisaki

It was your birthday, but the day seemed to have cursed you, as you had many exams, all one after another

Luckily for Chihiro, he had the whole day to surprise you

He had gone to the store the previous day, hiding all of the decoration and supplies in an unused kitchen cupboard

And the second you left for the day, it was go time

Taking all of the decorations out, Chihiro for to work, stringing up streamers and balloons, all in your favorite colors

He also made a cake, your favorite flavor mixed with funfetti, and a cute picture of your favorite animal made of frosting on the top

Setting out the cake, Chihiro got a text saying you were on your way

He sat down on the couch, the cake lit up on the coffee table

Hearing your keys in the door, Chihiro prepared the saying

“Happy birthday!” “Chihiro?” You gasped, looking at the festive room that greeted you. “What made you do all of this?”

“Well,” Chihiro got up, standing closer to you. “I wanted to celebrate your birthday...but I knew you would probably be to tired from your exams to go out so I wanted to something more mellow, unless you are too tired for anything and would like to-”

He was cut off by you giving him a peck on the lips, engulfing him in a hug

“Chihiro, it’s perfect.” You placed a second kiss on his cheek, causing him to glow red

“Wait, why do you have a bandaid on your forehead?”

“I fell off of the stepladder”

“Chihiro!”

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kingkatara · 3 years

Text

Girl Meets Waitress: Opening Up

Disclaimer: I don’t own Waitress. I don’t own Girl Meets World. This is a fanfiction written just funsies.

Looking around, seeing the same things every day brings

Maya woke up to darkness every morning. Her eyes peeled open after a mere six hours of sleep and were met with nothing. For a split second, there was only darkness in front of her, around her, within her. It was then that she and the world had their daily battle of wills, the war over who would break the stillness first and stir the other into motion. And always it was Maya who surrendered. Her eyes would adjust to the low light and a hot puff of breath would warm her face, still partly under the covers to avoid that first shiver of a New York morning that was always chilly no matter the season. She sat up in bed and surveyed the smoking battlefield of her bedroom, taking in her losses from the night before and wondering which of them would show on her face for the rest of the day. Beside her, the world’s weapon lay dormant, harmless unless she were to challenge the demands for peace. If she came quietly as the world beckoned her, he would slumber on. She didn’t look at him as she swung her legs over the bed and tapped her toes against the smooth hardwood floor beneath her. Her white flag of surrender was the tug on the long curtains that shielded the sunlight from shining into the apartment through the wide window on her side of the bed. This was her cry out into the world that she would not fight. And then the day would begin.

Wake up, use the toilet, brush the teeth, comb the hair. Put the hair up. Makeup over the dark circles and fading yellow-green lump above the eyebrow. Panties, bra, uniform. Socks, then shoes. Purse. Nametag out of the purse and on the uniform. Every day, the routine was the same. There was ease to it, but it would be a lie not to admit that it was also repetitive. She didn’t know what her life was supposed to be like, but she couldn’t help feeling that it wasn’t supposed to be like this. It was as though there was some missing ingredient that she had long ago forgotten to include in the recipe, which always left the dish edible, but unsatisfying. A ritual she had not shared with anyone in the six years of living in her Lower East Side apartment was that the last thing she did before giving in to the reality of her life was standing at her window and waiting for the first rays of light to peek over the buildings in her neighborhood. She never watched the sun fully rise up into the sky. She simply waited for it to appear and then raced it to work. She never won.

The ride across town on the subway would have been daunting at best for a tourist, but for a born New Yorker like Maya, the odd little scenes playing out right before her eyes, even as early as six in the morning, were just as natural to the routine as tying her shoelaces. On the way to work, swaying gently along with the subway car, Maya would pull out her sketchbook (which wasn’t a sketchbook at all, but a pathetic server’s pad on which she took down her orders) and mimic the likeness of what she saw and sometimes, on her lowest days, what she felt. Today, there was a particularly amusing picture of an eccentric woman with some sort of hat, though Maya couldn’t quite bring herself to call it that. It was tall, a violent shade of purple, and topped with hot pink feathers. These feathers were of great interest to a small little girl, whose mother, wearing the scrubs of a nurse, was snoozing against the window of the subway car. The little girl was standing up on her seat, using the handrail for balance, and blowing on the feathers of the woman’s hat. The woman gave no indication of noticing this invasion of personal space and was instead muttering to herself about some sort of building with her name on it. The two of them were immediately transcribed into her notepad in short, quick lines of ink.

From the subway, she made her way through the streets of the Lower East Side, weaving in and out of passerby with an expression that was as equally bored as it was underground. She didn’t look up at anyone and instead chose to keep her eyes down on her white sneakers. The less she looked open to communication or interest, the greater chance she had of making it to work having avoided any unwanted attention—because yes, some men really were in the mood before seven in the morning. Then finally, there was the diner. Where her life played out day by day, where the routine really began and always finished; the diner was more of a home to her than her own apartment, which, of course, wasn’t really hers at all. But the diner? It was the closest thing to belonging that she felt since being held in the arms of her mother so many years ago. She entered through the door in the back of the building that led to the kitchen.

“Is it a woman thing?”

“Excuse me?”

“The being late. Every damn day. Is it a woman thing?”

“Oh, shove it up your—”

“Good morning! Who’s ready to start the day?”

Of course, no home was complete without its inhabitants. Maya supposed she could have had it much worse when it came down to the universe selecting her partners for this life thing. She didn’t hate the people she worked with every day and she guessed that they didn’t hate her either. With that being said, however…These partners were no picnic either.

There was Zay Babineaux, the cook. All Maya knew about him was that he was from a small town in Texas and he came to New York when he was a teenager. He still had a slight drawl to his snarky voice, the stubborn southern streak within him that refused to be beaten down by the hustle and bustle of the north. He never offered any detail into his personal life, like why he chose to be a cook or how he ended up at the diner, and Maya never asked. When he wasn’t flipping pancakes on the griddle, he could be found grumbling to anyone who would listen (and that was exactly no one) about how nothing in his life made sense and why women were the reason for that. Though he was technically her boss, he and Maya had an ongoing feud over who should be giving who orders within the unhallowed walls of their place of employment.

Riley Lawrence was a young woman of thirty who was made up of sunshine and daisies. She married her high school sweetheart right on the heels of graduation and went to NYU for a degree in political science. A year into law school, she dropped out to start working at the diner in order to care for her husband, Charlie, who had suffered severe brain injuries in a freak bus accident. Though all of her dreams were now wasted, she still smiled like sunshine in the rain and danced like a daisy in the wind. It was for Riley’s sake that squabbles between Maya and Zay were quickly put to bed—neither of them had the gumption to disappoint a soul like Riley’s, who had endured so much already and never uttered a single complaint.

“Me. Thirty minutes ago. Why are you women always late?”

“Perhaps it’s because we know you can’t afford to fire us.” The newest addition to their band of misfits was Isadora, who for some reason allowed them all to address her by her ridiculous surname: Smackle. Even her nametag introduced her as such to the customers. She was a twenty-three year old grad student living the dream that Riley had once chased and for that reason, Maya and Zay tolerated her. It wasn’t that she wasn’t likable; she was nice enough. It was just that Maya had never met anyone who was more tightly wound. Smackle had a particular way of doing things and though the diner had never been cleaner, more organized, and more efficient than when Zay took her on, Maya simply didn’t appreciate changing her way of doing things just to fit Smackle’s compulsive need for order.

“Actually, I can. I don’t own the place. I just run it. I wouldn’t lose anything but the weight of carrying this business if I had it my way and kicked you three to the—"

“Business? It’s a diner. And it didn’t miss us for the fifteen minutes that we were late. But it will miss us for thirty if you keep us from actually doing our jobs with your whining.”

“Alright, you know what? Get out of my kitchen. Get out.”

Snickering, Maya led Riley and Smackle through the swinging door that led into the dining area. Though Riley sighed unhappily as they left Zay to his dramatics, the girls easily fell into their habitual duties for opening up. Riley got to work on the register, counting bills and setting up the front desk. Smackle wiped down each table and sorted the condiments in whatever order made sense to her otherworldly brain. Maya got to work on the pastry display case. The first thing she did every shift was rearrange it so she could display her creation of the day, which was dreamt up sometime before going to bed every night and arriving at work each morning. What made all the elbow grease she put into the job worthwhile was found underneath the diner in its basement: the bakery. Each dessert, particularly the pies, was made from the imagination of her mother. Every dressing coating its recipe, particularly the cakes, was designed from Maya’s. Serving the sacred combination to the diner’s patrons, who had no idea that they were seeing into the very essence of her being with every bite, was the most gratifying thing Maya got to experience in a montage of diner meals that left her secretly hungry for something more. In another life, perhaps Maya would have liked to be an artist. But she was living in this life and if she couldn’t be that, she supposed being a waitress that got to bake the cakes was the next best thing.

“What’s the special today?”

Maya’s fingers twitched towards her apron’s pocket where the sketch of her subway ride lived frozen in time between the pages of her server’s pad. She was planning on using it as inspiration for some kind of cake resembling that crazy old woman’s hat, but Riley’s hopeful expression was especially sweet this morning. Her brows lifted in the direction of her hairline ever so slightly, creating the barest traces of wrinkles that were not yet etched into the still youthful skin across her forehead. Her lips parted in a preciously premature smile of delight. Maya never wanted Riley to know the harsh truth that she did, that hope was for suckers, and so she never let Zay put Riley’s pie on the menu even though it was continuously requested by the regulars. As long as it wasn’t on the menu, Riley still got to hope every morning, for just a minute or two, that that would be the day that her pie was the special of the day.

“Why, Aren’t You a Peach Polka-Dot Peach Pie, of course.” Maya painted on an indulgent smile and admired how Riley beamed sunlight at her.

“Peaches, you shouldn’t!”

“Too late, I already did. Today’s a good day to serve everyone a little Riley, I think. I know I could use a little of whatever it is you got.”

“Well, I’m happy to share.”

“Go check the stock downstairs and make sure we have enough kosher salt. We were running a little low the last I checked and I don’t think Zay is ordering new stock until tomorrow.” Riley abandoned the hostess station where she was organizing the trio’s sections as if they ever changed and raced downstairs into Maya’s sanctuary.

“When am I going to get a pie made for me, Maya?” Smackle asked without accusation, just curiosity.

“Maybe it’s not a pie. Maybe it’s a cake. Or a cookie.” The blonde answered thoughtfully, to which Smackle snorted and shot her a grin from across the room.

“I am at least a brownie by now, thank you very much. How did Riley end up with a peach pie anyway? Because she calls you Peaches?”

“Nah, she calls me peaches because that’s what the pie is.” Maya explained, “I don’t know, she’s just so nice. It kind of threw me off when we first met, being New Yorkers and all. When she learned about how I make the desserts and dress them up, a peach pie is the first thing I thought of when she asked me what kind of dessert she would be. The polka-dots came later when I thought about how she dresses out of uniform. That’s what makes it Riley.”

Smackle hummed in understanding. “And what makes it yours, with that kind of personal touch. No one can bake like you can, huh?”

“No one but my mother. I just try to do it like she would.” Maya answered with a casual shrug and brushed her hands against her apron as she finished up with the display case. Smackle was obviously done with the condiments as she had moved on to adjusting the number of napkins at each table. Maya regarded her for a moment. She wasn’t sure how to say so, but the spectacled girl had unwittingly stirred a feeling of warmth in her chest at the astute (and the very gracious, at that) compliment—the kind of warmth that spread slowly, like a pie crust in the heat of an oven. So she said nothing at all. Maya got through each day by watching the people she saw and jotting her notes down into her art, be it on the dish or on paper. She had never considered that Smackle might do the same. Dimly, she wondered where her coworker took her observations. Perhaps a scholarly notebook; that was presumably what a good NYU student like Smackle would use in her classes at school. Or maybe she just kept it all in that great big brain of hers. It probably was time for Smackle to get her own dessert by now, wasn’t it?

Without Riley around to peer over her shoulder and ask questions, Maya pulled out the server’s pad from her pocket and flicked through its pages until she found her sketch from the subway ride. Some of her glimpses into inspiration never quite revealed their whole picture and without that, she couldn’t transcribe their stories into a cake. Maya had a gnawing ache deep in her gut that this lady and her crazy hat were one of those torturously brief peeks into something special that she would only ever wonder about for the rest of her life. Sighing, she walked over to the hostess stand, tore the sheet from the pad’s binding, and slid the sketch between the thick cardstock page of a menu and its plastic cover. This was the eulogy of all the subway sketches that never went on to become something more. The idea of one of the diner’s patrons finding it out of the blue and seeing what Maya saw, even if it was only for an instant, was exactly what Crazy Hat deserved. She deserved the chance to connect with a stranger who was not looking for her and make them wonder just like Maya did; if she was lucky, that stranger could do something to tell her story more truthfully than Maya ever could.

Riley had returned from the bakery downstairs. “I think we should have enough to get through the day!” She announced joyously, waving a carton of the last of the kosher salt they had left over her head just to show them she was sure.

“Great, but why did you bring it up here?” Maya chuckled, sliding the menu back into the stacks that would be passed around to the customers throughout the day. Riley’s smile faltered for just a second as realization came to her. As quickly as it left, her smile sprung back into place as if it was never gone, albeit the accompaniment of sheepish awkwardness was an endearing new factor in Riley’s sunshine.

“I…I just…I’ll go put this back.”

“No need.” Maya offered her a gentle look of reassurance, the expression well-rehearsed for the times that Riley, feeling especially Riley, looked to her for permission to go on exactly as she was. She did this as though Maya would ever want her to change. “I should probably get started anyway before the morning rush gets in. There’s some crust defrosting in the fridge, but I’ll have to make the filling from scratch. I’ll just bring it back down myself.”

“Well, then get to it! I want my pie!” Riley pitched her the kosher salt that was not even in the same vicinity as her direction, which Maya had to scramble to catch in an almost cat-like maneuver. Smackle made a move to shoo her away in jest, but she was already hurrying along down the narrow spaces between tables to get a move on. She skipped the stairwell leading to the bakery and headed straight for the single bathroom in the back of the building.

She couldn’t get the door open fast enough and she still had to find the dexterity in fingers that were not so nimble as they were when baking to lock it. The kosher salt was forgotten, carelessly thrown to the floor and forced open upon impact with the ground. Hard flakes of it dug into her bare knees as she dropped and flung her head into the waiting toilet bowl. It was the fourth time this week that Maya had emptied her insides at work. She didn’t think that anyone had noticed this theatrical display of her stomach’s hysterics, but if it went on, it would be impossible to keep hidden. She didn’t want to deal with that intervention, because that’s exactly what it would be with those two goofballs for coworkers, and she certainly didn’t want to have to deal with Zay. She didn’t want to deal with any of this, not at all. She didn’t know how. All she knew was the diner, the customers, the girls and the cook. The desserts. All she knew was being a waitress. If Maya added anything more to her plate, it would not be a matter of whether she would break, but when.

#girl meets waitress #girl meets waitress chapter one #girl meets waitress opening up #lucaya #lucaya fanfiction #lucaya fanfic #smarkle #smarkle fanfiction #smarkle fanfic #rilay #rilay fanfiction #rilay fanfic #maya hart #maya hart fanfiction #maya hart fanfic #kingkatara #thekingkatara

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moonstone-blues · 3 years

Text

A Spark By The River - Chapter 9: Red And Blue

“Jesus, Blue. You look like hell.”

“Thanks.”

River chuckled as she sniffled. She had dark bags under her eyes, her skin was pale, hair dishevelled and a red nose.

River and Piper had met up a few streets away from Diamond City. After a rough night, River and Nick decided to split up to try and find a fusion core. Nick would look in the more irradiated places and River would go with Piper to try and find one amongst the ruins of the city. Nick still wasn’t comfortable letting River go alone and while he didn’t exactly trust Piper with the details of the case, Codsworth was busy helping make Sanctuary more comfortable for the settlers there and Preston was busy trying to set up some sort of line of communication.

Once Piper heard that there was a chance she could get herself in the story, she didn’t hesitate to grab her bag. River was concerned about Nat but Piper assured her she would be fine on her own for a bit. And if she needed anything, Arturo was only around the corner. He didn’t always agree with Piper but he couldn’t say no to helping a kid.

Piper nudged River with her elbow as the two began to walk.

“I didn’t get much sleep.” River admitted with a shrug. She had tried but it just felt… Wrong. Knowing she would wake up and Jack wouldn’t be beside her… She couldn’t. Not yet.

“Nick keeping you up with all his nagging?” Piper joked, using her hand as a puppet and pretending to talk.

River giggled, shaking her head. “He’s been nagging me to get some sleep."

"I remember when he used to do that with me.” Piper thought back.

As they navigated through the streets, River noticed that Piper was less careful than Nick, only occasionally ducking behind something when a noise was heard. Whether that was because of River or just their normal strategies, River didn’t know.

Footsteps sounded. They were slow. River quickly ducked into an alleyway, pulling Piper beside her. The footsteps became quicker. River could guess it was an animal by the sound of two feet hitting the ground at once. A blur of green whizzed past. Piper recoiled.

“Mutants.” Piper whispered to herself.

“Those big green men?” River questioned.

“If they have a hound out, there’s probably one close by.” She explained.

“They have dogs?!” River exclaimed in a quiet voice. More things she didn’t know about them, great!

“You can get a zoology lesson later, we need to go.” Piper turned around. Upon looking down the alleyway, it branching off at the bottom, she groaned.

“I should really scout out this area more.”

“Is there anywhere specifically we need to go?” River questioned walking down the alleyway.

Piper followed her, trying to come up with a solution in her head. “West would probably be best but I don’t know which path-”

“That one.” River said, pointing to the one on the right.

“But won’t that take us back the way we came?” Piper asked, looking down it.

“For a bit.” River nodded. “But it will make a ‘U’ shape taking us back up. The alley ahead leads to a dead end and the one on the left goes back to the same road.”

Piper blinked in astonishment.

River smiled sheepishly as she began to walk down the alley.

“Hey, you spend hours navigating alleys with Nick.” River chuckled.

“Okay, maybe a little nagging from Nick is okay.” Piper admitted with a defeated shrug. “But don’t tell sixteen year old me that.”

It was River’s turn to be astonished. “You knew Nick at sixteen?"

Piper raised an eyebrow. "How long do you think Nick’s been in Diamond City?"

River shrugged as she carefully stepped over a fallen trash can. Piper and her had to hold their noses at the putrid stench of it’s rotten contents. When they were a good enough distance away, River responded.

"I don’t know.” River shrugged. “I know he was there when the Mayor’s daughter went missing…”

Piper’s face lit up. “He told you the 'beep’ story?"

River laughed, nodding. "Can you imagine it?"

"Oh I would give anything to have been there at the time.” Piper grinned. “That was about two mayors ago.”

“Oh wow. A long time then.” River stated.

The two made their way around a corner, spotting a small playground just ahead. The two looked at each other before walking ahead.

“Ugh I hate these places.” Piper shivered as she opened the, surprisingly still working, gate and walked into the park. “How did kids used to play here?"

"Believe it or not, not everywhere used to be an apocalyptic Wasteland full of raiders and green feral dogs.” River joked, walking up to a climbing frame that looked like a spaceship. She poked her head inside.

“Well it was also full of weird space monkeys.” Piper shrugged.

River tried to pull her head out of the spaceship but she accidently hit it on the top, not realising how small the entrance actually was. She let out a pained yelp as she held her head, carefully pulling it away. She rubbed her head as she turned to Piper who was stifling a laugh.

“Space monkey?” River said through her winces. She then realised what Piper meant. “Oh! Jangles the moon monkey!” She exclaimed. She double checked her hand to see if there was any blood. Couldn’t be too careful.

Piper snickered as she raised an eyebrow. “Jangles? Moon Monkey?"

"Yeah, he was a TV show character, I think. There’s toys of him, too. I was thinking of getting Shaun one but their faces are just…” River cringed. “Besides, they cost thirty dollars."

"So… He wasn’t an actual space monkey?” Piper questioned, leaning against an old slide, hearing sticks and leaves crunch under her feet.

“Moon monkey.” River reminded. “And no. He’s just a character.”

“And I thought I had pre war times all figured out…” Piper shook her head with a sigh. A thought suddenly hit her as she looked back up at River.

“You know a lot about pre war times, right?” Piper asked, a grin beginning to form on her face.

“I did live there all my life.” River said plainly. This wasn’t new information to Piper. Seeing Piper’s full grin was a big give away of what was going through her mind.

“Another paper?” River chuckled.

“Perhaps…” Piper said suspiciously. “The ghouls I manage to talk to don’t really go into detail. Besides… you’re relatively fresh.”

River smiled, giving Piper a side glance, seeing the reporter smirk.

“If you’ve seen any old posters, probably like that.” River simply told her.

“So… Space monkeys?” Piper teased with a laugh.

River gently pushed Piper, not helping herself as she giggled along. Once Piper reegainedd her composure, she took a deep breath. “Okay, I’m sorry. But seriously, what was it like?” Piper genuinely asked.

“Well… ever hear of the ‘American Dream’?” River began walking towards the swings.

“Kinda. I’ve seen a few pictures with that on. But I don’t get it. They’re all just families having dinner.“

“That’s kind of the point.” River examined the swing, checking if it could take her weight. She continued.

“Families being happy, just living their life. No worries, no stress. Everyone has equal opportunities and has the same value of life.”

“Sure sounds like a dream.” Piper rolled her eyes, sitting on the swing, not checking if it was safe herself. “How did people possibly believe that could happen?”

River shrugged, carefully sitting on the swing. She gently began to swing back and forth. “It was a way to distract people from the war. So much was going on. Everyone was clinging to what was left of our country. And that was the American Dream.” River sighed. “Maybe if we all weren’t so focused on a pretend picture perfect life, we could’ve been more prepared…” River clenched her fists. She quickly relaxed, softening her facial expression.

“Sorry… I guess my husband’s feelings on this rubbed off on me…” River chuckled. “He was a military man.”

“Like the Brotherhood?” Piper asked.

River hesitated. “Kind of…”

“But without the super mutant and ghoul bloodlust.” Piper added. “Oh, and don’t forget the ‘will literally kill people for technology’ mentality.” She shook her head. “Anyway, got any specific details? Like your life?” Piper asked.

“My life?” River raised an eyebrow as she stopped swinging.

“Well, yeah. We still don’t know each other that well.” Piper explained. "Promise this one’s not going in the paper.”

“Well I was kinda middle to high class, I would say.” River thought back to her childhood. “Had a loving dad, a money obsessed mom and a boy crazy little sister.”

“You had a little sister?” Piper questioned, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah. The age gap wasn’t as big as you and Nat though. We only had four years between us.” River began to gently swing once more.

“Were you close?”

River chuckled. “Sometimes. One minute we would be laughing and close as ever then the next we would be at each other’s throats.” She then sighed, a look of shock suddenly appearing on her face. “God… the last thing we did before the bombs was fight…” She stopped on the swing, it now fully sinking in. “Shit…”

“You didn’t know.” Piper leaned over and put her hand on River’s shoulder.

“I just hope that she got to her vault in time…” River leaned back.

Though, that may have been worse for her, considering what the Vault had done to River. Maybe Jane’s vault was better…

She looked back to Piper who looked back, expectantly. River continued. “Anyway, yeah. Born and raised in Boston. Went to D.B Technical High School where I met my husband, went to college, university and eventually married. I had just given birth to Shaun a few months before the war. He kind of occupied most of my time.” She explained.

“I’ll bet.” Piper chuckled. “Harder than growing up with a little sister.”

“But before Shaun, I practised law.” River smiled, thinking back to her law degree that had managed to survive the nuclear war.

She wanted to wait until she had time to examine and fix her house but as her foot nudged the cracked glass encasing the degree, she couldn’t help but proudly place it back on display.

“A lawyer, huh?” Piper thought. “And… what was justice like back then?” She hoped it was even a slither better than what McDonough was 'enforcing’.

“It was a bunch of power hungry bastards locking up anyone they didn’t like or who got in their way.” River replied with an annoyed huff.

“Shit.” Piper chuckled. She knew it would be too good to be true. “So, not much has changed then.”

River defended herself. “I made sure everyone got a fair trial. They didn’t get rolled over by the system.”

Piper smirked. “Guardian of the downtrodden, huh?”

“That sounds like a new title for a paper.”

“Maybe.”

River laughed, getting up from the swing. She pretended to swing a sword.

“Trial by combat. I rocked up thirty kills in my day.” She grinned. Of course, she had done many more court cases but who was counting?

“Huh. Always wondered why pre-war courthouses had all that gladiator equipment just lying around.” Piper stood up herself.

“It doesn’t matter now, though. The American penal code burned up along with most of Boston…” River tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

“I have an idea.” Piper said, beginning to walk.

River followed, not knowing what to expect.“Oh God, what?”

“You know all about law.” Piper began.

“Where is this going?” River cautiously questioned.

“Diamond City is pretty bad when it comes to managing the law. Maybe next election you could… you know…”

River shot her a look.

“Y’know… after you find your son, of course.” Piper haphazardly added.

River carefully stepped around the fallen pieces of gate on the opposite side of the miniature park. “Where will you get your source of satire without McDonough then?”

“I’ll probably find some scandalous secret you want to keep buried.” Piper shrugged, moving on ahead. “Maybe you’re hiding some dirty little dungeon.”

“Ha ha.” River rolled her eyes. “So, any idea where we can find a fusion core?” She asked, looking around. The tall, decrepit apartments toward over the two as they gazed up.

Piper had a thought. “Fusion cores are pretty rare… we can either spend days searching every single building which are probably full of ghouls or we look in the only place that you can be certain to find them…” She groaned at her conclusion. “The Brotherhood. Well, we can’t exactly waltz onto their ship and politely ask for one of their precious fusion cores like squatters.”

River sighed, walking on. Everything was quiet. Eerily quiet.

“You okay if I put some music on? Shouldn’t be too loud.” River asked, holding up her pip boy.

Piper nodded.

River was about to select the Diamond City Radio but she noticed a new radio channel present on her pip boy.

“Military Frequency AF95.”

Piper walked behind River and peeked over her shoulder, her curiosity evident.

“-s Scribe Haylen of Reconnaissance Squad Gladius to any unit in transmission range. Authorization Arx. Ferrum. Nine. Five. Our unit has sustained casualties and we’re running low on supplies. We’re requesting support or evac from our position at Cambridge Police Station.”

“That sounds bad.” River said, tuning out the channel.

Piper nodded her head, agreeing. “Speak of the devil.” River raised her eyebrow in confusion. “She said she was… Scribe? Yeah. That’s a rank in the Brotherhood. Just leave it. They’ll be fine on their own.”

River rolled her eyes, checking her map. They weren’t that far away…

“Brotherhood or not, they need help.”

Piper watched as River continued to walk well into the city.

“Blue! You can’t just- They- Ugh!” Piper finally gave in, reluctantly chasing after River.

River navigated the streets of Boston carefully. Piper groaned as she squeezed herself in between a truck and a brick wall, sucking in her stomach as she tried to keep up with River.

“Nick warned me you were a runaway, but I didn’t think you were-” She took a deep breath as she moved away from the truck, following River up the main road which happened to lead into a large, open area. “-This bad.”

River chuckled, turned around. She rested a hand on her hip with a smirk. “What can I say? I’m-”

Piper glanced to the side as she heard growling. “Feral!” She pounced forward, pushing River down as a ghoul flew past them.

River yelled in pain as her head hit concrete. She looked ahead and saw Piper over her, smiling nervously.

“Sorry.”

River opened her mouth to respond but quickly stopped, pushing Piper away, raising her pistol and shooting a ghoul looming over her.

“Apologize later!”

Piper quickly stood up, while River scrambled to her feet, readying themselves. A few more ghouls were beginning to surround them as they had decided to check out where the loud noises were coming from.

“So much for being careful…” River muttered to herself. It was still going to take her a while to get used to safely navigating the city, no matter how much she had already learned.

The ghouls began to run. River and Piper backed up quickly. River looked around, spotting a nearby diner.

“Up there!”

River climbed onto a rusted old car, making sure Piper was following. She carefully balanced herself as she walked across a fallen lamppost. From the way they pounced carelessly and stumbled round, River could guess that they wouldn’t be elegant or coordinated enough to follow them. She managed to hop on top of the diner, thankful that it had managed to hold her weight. Piper was close behind, but so were the ghouls. She was only a couple feet away from the diner when a feral ghoul from below had jumped up, clawing at Piper. It caught her foot, causing her to lose her balance and fall off.

“Blue!”

River lunged forward and grabbed Piper’s arm, using all of her strength to try and pull her up. The ghoul was strong, however, it’s claw saught on Piper’s coat. Piper swung her foot, trying to shake or kick the ghoul off of her. River reached for her gun only to realise she forgot to holster it. She glanced behind her and saw it a few feet away, just out of reach.

“Dammit.”

She turned back to Piper, thoughts and decisions flying through her head.

“Piper, do you trust me?”

“What?”

“Do you trust me?”

“Why?”

“Sorry!”

River quickly let go of Piper, letting the woman fall with a short scream. She dived for her pistol, quickly grabbing it. She scrambled to the edge of the diner roof, spotting Piper trying to fight off a snarling, snapping ghoul. She winced, holding out what looked like the bumper of the car they had climbed on top of. She pressed it against the ghouls chest, keeping it in place, futilely swinging at her. River readied her weapon, took aim and then fired, piercing the ghoul’s head.

The gunshot alerted the couple other ghouls who were still trying to figure out how to reach their dinner on the rooftop. Not only that, but even more ghouls had started to emerge from the different buildings surrounding them. Piper chuckled nervously as she watched the dead eyes glare at her. She waved.

“Nice fer-”

River grabbed Piper’s raised arm, trying her best to hoist Piper up. Piper climbed onto the lamp post once she was high enough, letting River relax. Piper cautiously joined her. There was a moment of brief peace for the two before Piper reeled back, punching River in the shoulder.

“Ow!”

“I could’ve died!” Piper growled.

There was a pause. “But you… didn’t?” she shrugged. River had to admit her plan was absurd. Guess she was starting to get used to wastelander ways.

Piper opened her mouth to argue back but stopped herself, folding her arms.

“God, I see why Nick wanted to split for a bit.”

River let out a breathless chuckle, still panting. Piper raised an eyebrow.

“What?”

River took deep breaths. Piper gasped.

“I’m not that heavy!”

River finally gained her breath back and laughed. “Come on, let’s check our bullets and see if we can pick the rest of them off…”

After the two killed the rest of the ghouls, they carefully climbed down from the diner. They both cringed at the smell. Seemed like even people who were used to this could never get over the smell.

Piper covered her nose as she carefully made her way around the ghoul corpses. She took in her surroundings. “College Square. Explains why it stinks this much.”

River tilted her head slightly, confused. “Because of all the teenagers?” She chuckled to herself before realising Piper might not get the joke.

Piper raised her eyebrow at her before pointing away from them, her expression now serious. “No, because of that.”

River turned to where Piper was pointing and gasped.

During their fight, she didn’t notice… The dozens of decaying human corpses strewn about. A lot had been half eaten. And they had clearly been dead for a while.

River took a few steps back, feeling sick to her stomach. This was a massacre. Piper continued on her way, face screwing up as the smell became too much.

River quickly followed her. “All those people…” She mumbled.

“Raiders.” Piper stated. “You can tell by the gear.”

“Those ferals couldn’t have killed that many people.” River only counted about ten feral ghouls. She understood they could be vicious but no way they could cause that much carnage.

“The rest must’ve gone into the city.” Piper said in agreement. “I know they’re evil people who did horrible things but being eaten alive by ferals?” A shiver ran down her spine. “I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy.”

River nodded. “Yeah.”

As they neared the exit of College Square, they could hear gunshots. They carefully approached, seeing more ferals rushing towards a barricaded police station.

“That must be it.” River pointed out.

“Yeah, the Brotherhood look like they’ve got it all under co- Blue?” Piper looked beside her to see River gone. She turned back to see River had moved ahead, hiding behind a wall before taking shots at the ghouls.

Piper groaned. “Nick, you owe me big time for this…”

It seemed like the majority of ghouls were dead. A few bodies were around the station with the others obviously back in College Square. That explained why there weren’t that many the two had to deal with.

Piper ran forward but nearly tripped up when something grabbed her leg. She whipped her head around and yelped, seeing a legless ghoul clinging onto her. It wasn’t long before a bullet pierced it’s skull. Piper shook the arm off and ran towards River who was being surrounded by a small group of three ghouls. She stood there, watching them. And just before they were about the pounce, she quickly moved out of the way, letting the three ghouls attack each other. However, she wasn’t aware of her surroundings and ended up tripping over some debris from a nearby building. She fell to the ground only to be rushed at by another feral ghoul. She stuck her leg out, letting the ghoul run into it. She kept the ghoul at bay as it swung for her. She tried reaching for her pistol-

It was gone.

River groaned as she spotted it practically right underneath the tangle of ghouls just ahead of her. She really needed a bigger gun she wouldn’t lose.

She could hear Piper dealing with her own set of ghouls and it didn’t seem like the Brotherhood were going to leave their fortress.

The feral attacked whatever it could, scratching and sinking its nails into River’s leg. She bit back a scream as she desperately felt around for something- anything!

She didn’t take her eyes off the ghoul. Her leg made sure it’s head couldn’t reach down to bite her but that didn’t make her any less terrified.

She wasn’t going to end up like those raiders.

River eventually felt something sharp stab her hand. She gripped it tightly and let her leg drop for one second as she plunged the sharp thing into the ghoul’s head. It struggled for a moment more before falling limp. River took a deep and shaky breath, looking at the small, jagged pipe she had used as her weapon, sticking out of the now dead ghoul’s head. She stood up only to wince in pain as she put weight on her left leg. The battle seemed to be dying down but it wasn’t over. Luckily, the trio of ghouls she had previously escaped from seemed to be dead so River could quickly snatch her pistol back up. It took a few shots but eventually it seemed like the ghouls were all down.

River panted, her leg feeling weak. Piper jogged over.

“Blue!”

“Please tell me a scratch isn’t going to turn me into one.” River said, slightly limping as she approached Piper.

Piper shook her head. “No, but you should definitely get that looked at.”

“First, let’s make sure the Brotherhood people are okay.”

“Oh yeah, I’m sure they’re all struggling in their impenetrable tin can suits and their fortified base.” Piper said with an eye roll. River shot her a displeased look. The two then made their way into the barricade.

There were three people outside the police station. A man wearing power armor covered in grime, a woman who was giving medical attention and the man she was giving it to.

“Are you guys okay?” River asked.

The man in the power armor turned to her. She would never get used to the height and sheer power that radiated from the suit alone, let alone the hardened soldiers that wore it. He reloaded his weapon.

“We appreciate the assistance, civilians. But what’s your business here?"

"We heard your distress signal.” River explained with a small smile. “We were close by so we thought we should help.”

“Don’t drag me into this.” Piper whispered under her breath.

The man raised an eyebrow. “Close by? You’re not from a settlement, are you?”

“Don’t answer that.” Piper quickly spoke to River.

River looked back at the woman then to the soldier. She wanted to help but she also had to be cautious. “Why do you want to know?”

He didn’t answer.

“We’ve done our good deed, let’s go.” Piper whispered, trying to rush River.

River sighed. “I’m from up north west. I… came out of a vault. Vault 111.”

“A vault Dweller? Most people wouldn’t admit that.” He finally spoke.

“Now can you tell me what you’re doing in the area? Not everyday you see someone wearing mint condition t-60 power armor.” River looked the man up and down. Even her suit wasn’t as clean. The Brotherhood didn’t seem like any other group in the Commonwealth.

“You know about power armor?” The man said, shocked. Most wastelanders had never even heard of power armor, let alone pick out a specific model.

River hesitated for a moment. “My husband was around power armor a lot while he was in the line of duty.”

The man smiled for the first time. “Ah, it’s good to know we have the assistance from an ally of the Brotherhood of Steel.”

“Well, not-” River tried to explain.

“If I appear suspicious it’s because our mission here has been difficult. Since the moment we arrived in the Commonwealth, we’ve been constantly under fire.” He looked to River, smiling. “If you want to continue pitching in, we could use an extra gun on our side.”

Piper was slowly shaking her head, eyes narrowed. River sighed, trying to ignore her objections.

“I want to help but I don’t like the secrecy. Who are you?"

"Very well.” The man stood, proud. “I’m paladin danse.” He gestured to the two other people behind him. “Over there is Scribe Haylen and Knight Rhys. We’re on recon duty, but I’m down a man and our supplies are running low. I’ve been trying to send a distress call to my superiors, but the signal’s too weak to reach them.”

“The distress call we found.”

“Correct.”

An unsure voice made River turn her attention to the woman, Scribe Haylen. “Sir, if I may?"

"Proceed, Haylen.”

“I’ve modified the radio tower on the roof of the police station, but I’m afraid it just isn’t enough. What we need is something that will boost the signal.” She explained. Her eyes then fixated on River’s leg. “You’ve been injured!"

River looked down at her leg before looking up at Scribe Haylen. "Just feral ghoul scratches, it only really hurts when I walk.”

“Despicable creatures.” Danse spat. “Haylen, take her inside. See what you can do.”

“Yes sir.”

“What about me?” The other man who hadn’t yet spoke loud enough for River to hear cried.

“I’ve done all I can, now you need to rest.” Haylen told him. “Come on.” She gestured for River to follow her.

“We’ll tell you about our mission once we’re inside.” Danse explained, walking to the entrance of the police station. He helped Rhys up before taking him inside.

Before River could move, Piper grabbed her shoulder and whispered.

“Blue, this is crazy!”

“I know, what I’ve heard of the Brotherhood isn’t good but this is my chance to get a fusion core.” River explained. “You said it yourself: we either spend what could be days going through every ghoul filled apartment or we can get one straight from the Brotherhood.”

“What do you even need this core for?!” Piper questioned.

River paused, confused. “Nick didn’t tell you?"

Piper threw her hands up in the air with a groan. "No! Do you think he tells me anything about his cases?!”

River sighed. She thought for a moment. She didn’t want the Institute to get a whiff of their plan…

But she did kind of owe Piper for dropping her in front of a feral ghoul.

“I need to use power armor to go into the Glowing Sea.” River began.

“The Glow- Why?!"

"There’s an Institute scientist who went rogue. He can help me find a way in.”

Piper’s confusion and annoyance turned into a child-like glee as her mouth stretched into a grin.

“You’re going to talk to. An Institute. Scientist?” She asked slowly.

“You can’t tell anyone.” River warned. “I can’t let the Institute get to him first.”

“My lips are sealed.” Piper 'zipped’ her lips shut to emphasise her point.

“Also I’m kind of bleeding out a little so I need them to patch me up.” River pointed out with a shrug.

“Come on.” Piper pulled River’s arm over her shoulder and started to walk, making sure she didn’t put much weight on her leg. “Let’s get you a fusion core.”

#fallout #fallout 4 #sole survivor x nick valentine #nick valentine x sole survivor #sole survivor #nick valentine #Piper Wright #paladin danse #scribe haylen #knight rhys #a spark by the river #asbtr #Sorry no Nick in this one!#Wanted to establish some of River's other friendships #Nick will have his own chapter in the future #also #This is my longest chapter!

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