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libraryofgage · 7 months

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PJO Steddie Part Three

Part One | Part Two

I hope y'all are ready for some backstory in this bitch hfdjsk

Anyway, we learn some more godly parents, but one remains a mystery for now.

Also, if you like my writing, maybe consider commissioning me! I have, like, student loans hitting harder than I'd like, so I've opened commissions on ko-fi. You can read more about prices and such in this post.

Anyway, hope you have fun reading! And, as always, if you see any typos no you didn't ;)

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Getting to Athens, Tennessee, had required a mix of bus rides, a single divine taxi ride, and a pair of knock-off winged shoes that Eddie should probably put out of their misery before they get him killed. Getting back to camp, thankfully, only requires the van Steve and the kids use to get around.

Said van, at first glance, looks like a hunk of junk. It seems to have stepped right out of the 80s, its paint is faded and scratched with dents in more than a few spots, and the wheels look about two tiny potholes from popping. As they get closer, Steve pulls a key ring from his pocket, and Eddie notices that it's a physical key and not one of the wireless fobs.

When they get inside, though, the whole van is transformed. The seats are made of the softest leather Eddie has ever felt, there are seven in the back for all the kids to be comfortable without arguing about space, and the sheer number of cup holders is enough to bring Eddie near tears. "This is fucking metal," Eddie says, practically melting into the passenger seat as the kids buckle up in the back and Steve starts the van.

"I got it after we outgrew my BMW," Steve says, shrugging as he checks on the kids and Eddie before pulling out of the parking lot.

"Steve says it's a surprise gift from our father," El pipes up from the back.

"Yeah," Dustin says, his voice excited as he leans forward and pokes his head between Steve and Eddie, "Cuz he doesn't know he bought it!"

Steve snorts and pushes down the bill of Dustin's cap as he heads towards the highway.

"So, is Zeus your dad, too?" Eddie asks, twisting around to look at El.

"No. Steve and I share a human father," El explains.

Even without looking, Steve can feel Eddie's confusion. "I try not to think about how I came into being," he says. "Just know our father seems to be a bit of a slut for Greek mythological figures."

"Wait," Eddie says, waving his hand, "does that mean Zeus was, like, a woman? Is Zeus your mother?"

"No clue. Like I said, I prefer not to think about it," Steve says again, shooting Eddie a look.

And Eddie drops it despite his growing questions. When a gorgeous boy tells you to stop asking about the impossibility of his birth, you shut up and listen.

A while later, as Steve is about to drive over the Tennessee state line and the kids doze off in the back, Eddie glances at Steve and shifts in his seat. His leg starts to bounce, his fingers drumming against his knee, as he tries to figure out which question to ask first. Eventually, he ends up blurting out, "So how did you manage to not die?"

Steve blinks and snorts, stifling the rest of his laughter so he doesn't wake the kids. He glances at Eddie, an amused smile tugging at his lips. "Well, how much of the story do you want to hear?" he asks.

"All of it." Eddie wants to know everything about Steve. How has he kept all these kids alive and for how long? When did they start traveling the country like this? When did he learn about his heritage? What does he like? What does he hate? Does he believe in fated love and love at first sight?

Okay, that last one can probably wait a little longer. Like, two more days, at least.

Steve hums softly, tapping his thumb against the steering wheel as though he's trying to decide where to start. "I didn't know about Zeus until I was eleven," he finally says. "I only learned then because my dad couldn't figure out any other explanation for how lightning struck on clear days whenever I was angry at other kids."

"Didn't you have to deal with monsters?" Eddie asks.

"Yes. And no." Steve frowns, rubbing the back of his neck. "You know how in all those stories Zeus will change his form to get with all those women? Like, he'll become whatever he needs to get what he wants."

"I'm familiar, yeah."

"It's a little like that, but I don't change my form. I guess I change my vibe? I can make monsters think I'm the son of a lesser deity. It got even easier when El came along because monsters don't target her."

"Why not?" Eddie asks, perking up some. If El has somehow figured out how to make herself invisible to monsters, maybe other campers can learn, too.

Steve grimaces, and Eddie immediately pushes back the urge to push for more information when he says, "It's...complicated. Let's not get into it right now."

"Okay," Eddie says, flashing Steve what he hopes is a reassuring smile when Steve glances at him. "When did you meet El, then?"

"Five years ago now, when I was fifteen. El's mother showed up, dropped her off with me, threatened me with death if she ever got hurt, and then left. El was, like, just eleven at the time, and our dad was no help. He just shrugged it off and gave me a bigger allowance to care for her."

"Was he not around?"

"No. He...travels. We haven't spoken to him in four years. He hasn't tried speaking to us, either. Despite me literally being Zeus's kid, he can't exactly show me off or anything. And El...well, he can't take her to any functions, either."

Eddie nods, pushing down the urge to ask why. But Steve said he doesn't want to talk about it, so Eddie instead asks, "And what about the rest?"

Steve hums, merging into another lane. "Well, El and I stayed in place for about a year. Then we saw some weird snake monster dragging Will around like a road snack. We saved him, but I almost died. It was my first fight, you know? But I lived, obviously, and El and I agreed to take Will back to his hometown. School was one break anyway, so we just did a road trip in my BMW. We ran into Dustin and Mike along the way. Dustin had made these, like, mechanical wings, and Mike was goading him on to give them a try. We got to the cliff right as Dustin jumped off."

"Wait," Eddie says, holding his hand up to pause Steve's story. "Are you telling me the kid just...decided to recreate Icarus?" he asks.

"Yeah, pretty much. He thought he could actually succeed since he's so much smarter," Steve explains, getting an amused grin as he thinks of it. "Anyway, didn't work, obviously. Dustin fell but managed to catch himself on the cliffside, Mike was yelling his head off but not actually doing anything, and El just took off running toward them. Which meant I had to run toward them, too. So, Will is trying to calm Mike down, El is practically dangling herself over the cliff, and Dustin is lamenting the loss of his wings."

"How'd you rescue him?"

"I just climbed down myself," Steve says, shrugging like it's no big deal. "I had him get on my back and climbed up, chewed both kids out for doing something so dangerous, and then asked if they needed a ride home, which is how I found out they'd run away and were just wandering."

"Half-bloods running away is pretty common," Eddie says, sinking down in his seat as he watches the trees rush by in the darkness. "A lot of us don't feel understood by our human families, or we don't want to endanger them when monsters track us down."

Steve nods, gripping the steering wheel a little harder. "Yeah, that's what Dustin and Mike said, too. I couldn't just leave them alone, so I invited them to come with us. Mike and Will get along really well, and Dustin is a little shit, and it's good for El to have friends her own age, so it all worked out."

"That still leaves out three whole kiddos," Eddie says.

"Well, Lucas and Erica we met in Will's hometown. Their dad and Will's mom had found each other and, like, bonded over having demigod kids. When we brought Will back, we met Lucas and Erica at this, like, barbeque thing to celebrate him being safe. And their parents ended up suggesting that we continue the road trip so the kids could be around others like them before school started again."

"Usually," Eddie says, fiddling with one of his rings, "parents go two ways. They either get really obsessed with keeping their kids safe to the point they're never let out of the house, or they completely ignore and reject the godly influence. But it sounds like their parents weren't doing either of those."

"Having each other helped. There was someone they could turn to when they felt doubt or just wanted to complain. When you're isolated, though, you just do whatever you think will keep you going, even if it might hurt the people you care about."

"You put that...really well."

"I've had a lotta time to think about it," Steve admits, frowning slightly before sighing and continuing with the story. "Anyway, we met Max and her brother a few towns over. It's...not a great story, actually. Her brother was a dick, like, massively horrible. He had a lot of problems and took way too much after his godly father in terms of anger. We ended up fighting because of how he treated Max and it didn't end great, but Max joined us and that's when I realized we needed a new car because the kids were piled on top of each other in the back. We got this conversion van in the next town with my dad's credit card, and we've been traveling ever since."

It's a lot to take in, and Eddie can tell there's a lot that Steve is leaving unsaid, but he doesn't call him out for it. "Okay, so, the whole not dying thing?" he asks.

Steve snorts. "Well, when you're chaperoning a gaggle of demigods, you get good at fighting off monsters. We've also had some...help along the way from a few goddesses, though."

Eddie perks up, looking at Steve like he's an alien. "You got help from goddesses? Which ones?"

"Sometimes, I'll pray to Hestia and she'll direct us to a motel with vacancies that'll be safe for the night. Or, uh, Demeter. I'll pray to her and fruit will grow on some trees or something. Hecate treated us to lunch once, said she found us amusing, and thanked me for the entertainment. Nike, Lucas, Max, and I have all played basketball together. I mean, she smoked us, no question, but she's part of the reason this van can run a few more miles without any gas. Hera helped once, sorta."

"Hera helped you? Hera? The goddess notoriously known for hating children of Zeus? That Hera?"

"Yeah, kinda surprised me, too. But, I mean, she's also the goddess of motherhood or something, right? And all she really ever wants is Zeus to be faithful. I don't think it's too much to ask, and I can't imagine the bullshit she goes through because of him. Anyway, we were getting attacked by this hydra, and I was really struggling to protect the kids. I mean, those heads were practically tearing me apart. And then she just, like, walks up and flicks her hand and the thing is gone. She told me to do better and then, like, disappeared. Not the weirdest thing that's happened, but it's up there."

And Eddie is starting to understand how they're not dead. It's just Steve. Like the prophecy was just Steve. Somehow, he's managed to get himself into the good graces of several goddesses and get their help. It's not entirely unheard of to get a god's favor, but having so many just be genuinely interested in you is unthinkable.

Eddie gets it, though. Steve fascinates him. He's like a magnet that Eddie doesn't want to fight. "So, uh, the kids," Eddie says, trying to keep his mind from lingering on Steve and just how incredible he is, "Who are their parents?"

"Lucas and Erica are kids of Aphrodite."

"Oh, does she like you, too?" Eddie asks.

Steve frowns, looking like he's just been reminded of something sour and gross. "No, we're not on good terms," he says, his voice a little frosty, and Eddie's mouth is suddenly dry.

"Good to know," he manages, his voice a little strained.

"Anyway, Dustin is a child of Athena. Max's mom is Nemesis. Will's dad is Morpheus, and Mike's dad is Plutus. Which has worked out well for us, actually. He keeps finding money on the street whenever we really need it."

"What about El?"

"El's mother...is complicated. We don't really talk about her," Steve says, his words soft and pleading, and Eddie immediately zips his mouth shut, winking conspiratorially at Steve when he glances over.

Then he unzips his mouth and says, "You know, you're pretty metal, Stevie."

Steve laughs, quickly slapping a hand over his mouth and glancing in the rearview mirror to make sure the kids are still sleeping. When he sees that they are, he relaxes a little. "I've never been called metal before," he says, glancing at Eddie.

"Well, that's a shame. I'll be sure to tell you whenever you're being particularly metal, big boy."

"Big boy?" Steve asks, amusement clear in his voice, and Eddie suddenly worries that Steve doesn't actually like the nickname but it trying to play it off.

Unfortunately, the problem is that Eddie has never been one to filter himself. So when Steve calls him out for the nickname and he panics, Eddie's knee-jerk reaction is to say, "Oh, would you prefer something else? How about pretty boy? Sweetheart? Gorgeous? Handsome?"

Even though it's dark out, Eddie can still see the blush that spreads across Steve's cheeks, the way his fingers tighten on the wheel until his knuckles turn white. He's getting flustered, and Eddie feels himself getting flustered, too, at the idea that it's because of him. He suddenly wants to see what else he can say or do to make that blush spread, and he wants to know just how far it spreads beneath the collar of Steve's shirt.

"Just, uh, whatever you prefer, I guess," Steve mumbles, keeping his eyes resolutely focused on the road and missing Eddie's surprised expression. He does, however, sneak a glance just in time to see the surprise morph into an unbridled grin.

"Sure thing, sweetheart," Eddie says, leaning back in his seat and looking forward to spending the rest of this road trip discovering what makes his Stevie tick.

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Tag List! There is still room, I think lol

@mugloversonly, @mentallyundone, @hairdryerducks-blog, @carriethesaint, @lunabyrd, @weekend-dreamer7, @farfaras, @littlelady03, @my-tears-are-becoming-a-sea20, @mogami13, @a-little-unsteddie, @itsall-taken, @queenie-ofthe-void, @tinyplanet95, @littlebluejane, @hangoversandhandgrenades, @rabbitwhoeatsstars, @bisexualdisastersworld, @steddieinthesun,

@paintgonewrong, @sadcanadianwinter, @deehellcat, @blanketlicker, @angrydonutdestiny, @booksareportal, @fallingchemicaldiscos

#steddie #steddie fic #semi divine steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #percy jackson au #the party #my writing

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static-sulker · 7 months

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Okay, so I’ve been drawing an unholy amount of blood weave in between my homework recently that has given me a new headcanon. Gale cannot stop himself from infodumping or over explaining about literally anything. Like, not even JUST magic. It could be about like migration patterns of like hook horrors. He can does this for a WHILE if hes not interrupted. He especially does this about his times with Mystra and does NOT have a filter. He also struggles to think internally at times about things, leaving him to mutter constantly if needed. The responses are normally mixed when hes in speech mode. Astarion? hates it. But it grows on him after awhile. Like, first few days of camp, he gets pulled into a deep rooted explanation of conjuration magic and its benefits. He practically tunes him out the moment he starts talking. Mainly from constant practice of just letting people talk themselves into his charms back when he was still a slave to Cazador. But as time progresses, he finds himself actually seeking out Gale for "One of your silly history lessons" during a long rest. It's comforting enough to keep his mind off of things. This is one of the many things that make Astarion start to fall for Gale. Full stop.

Karlach LOVES it in the way a child likes talking with a parent about adult topics. She has NO idea what he is saying at times, very few topics actually giving her some background grasp on it, but she is happy to lend an ear when he needs to speak out his thought process. She originally begins to do this in order to get him more comfortable, seeming to be a bit out of his element. She doubles down when she finds out about the orb (especially during the first week or so after Elminster

Lae'zel thinks its fucking stupid for about 80% of act 1. Just a weird human not knowing when to shut up. That IS until she finds herself on the end of a ramble about old battles against elves and dwarves long before the events of most of their lives (he had to study it when he was an apprentice) and Lae'zel finally gets to sink her teeth (haha Astarion moment) onto a conversation about old war tactics.

Shadowheart finds it a bit strange, but never intrudes. She is a good listener and knows when and where she should speak off somebody when they get to have their big talks. She is the kind to at most play a devils advocate for his debate styled moments, just to keep his brain pumping. Gale lives for that type of shit. So Shadowheart lets him have it. In summary? Gale Dekarios would be the one who would make slideshows about his hyperfixations and present them to his roommates.

#gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #baldurs gate gale #baldurs gate three #astarion acunin #baldurs gate astarion #baldurs gate karlach #karlach cliffgate #baldurs gate wyll #wyll ravengard #baldurs gate laezel #lae'zel #baldurs gate shadowheart #shadowheart #is the tism showing #or maybe me deeply projecting onto Gale #either work #bloodweave

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earthstellar · 7 months

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Earth Music on the Lost Light: Human Music That Cybertronians Like

we know for a fact that the Lost Light has access to human media, primarily movies, TV shows, and music-- and we know they generally seem to fucking love most of it, or at least find it interesting

but what would everyone's tastes be, in regards to Earth music?

time to talk about music for a long time!!! strap in, enjoy some tunes

we already know Cyclonus has impeccable taste and enjoys some of the best jams the 80s had to offer.

I can't help but imagine Rodimus being given a media archive of Earth tunes to approve for the Earth Dance would only result in chaos

(it's not like he would say no to anything, he absolutely blanket signed it all, it's just an obligatory thing-- or Ultra Magnus tells him it is, solely to keep him away from Important Captain Things that he would rather handle himself or hand off to Megatron, lmao. the shit that really needs to get done)

and this is how Rodimus discovers the somewhat questionable yet amazing genre of "mid-90s underground techno rave mix tapes"

(somewhat related, I still think Testarossa might as well be Rodimus' theme song, although it's not a 90s track and has more of an 80s synth vibe)

Rodimus would love that "computers are the future, fuck yeah let's make Digital Cool Future Music" mid-90s shit, there is no way he would not. it has the exact energy level that appeals to him and is also cheesy and weird and chaotic. and has like 500 different sub-genres, so his selection is endless, lmao.

he would probably find it cute that this is what humans imagined to be the peak of "digital sound" at the time. like lmao this was the best humans could do when asked to create music that sounds like it was made by robots or other mechanical space future cyber lifeforms--high concept!!! he would probably find it interesting and endearing. this is what organics think non-organic music is like!!

anyone acting as DJ at Swerve's on any given night would be so, so mad that Rodimus keeps requesting shit like "DJ MASSIMO ITALO DISCO BEST RAVE TUNES LIVE FROM LONDON 1995" or "DJ ARMPIT SLUDGE FEST HOUSE-RAVE-DRUMS N BASS SET 1996" for them to play, lmao

not individual tracks. the whole album. entire mix tapes of random, somewhat questionable mid-90s techno house rave bullshit.

that having been said, that good ass early 90s trance techno might send him into a spiral depending on his mood at the time, lmao (it's been known to happen)

but at the same time I can imagine him sharing tracks like Solar Quest - Space Pirates with Drift and they'd both just sit there and jam out, but quietly, thinking about shit while sitting in a port window next to each other (this was peak sleepover party techno, Back in My Day-- many deep conversations were had while listening to stuff like this, lol)

Drift would probably find some of Rodmus' recommended stuff to be pretty good for meditation-- although once he finds out about the human drug culture involved and certain concepts of experimental consciousness etc. that surrounded techno/rave and other related genres, it might cause him to pull back a little bit

(until he finds out about kandi culture, in which case, Drift would love the idea of hand-made unique bracelets and sentimental trinkets being made and exchanged at warehouse shows purely out of Good Vibes and Love for Fellow Beings and it turns out actually he fucking loves this shit, a chill vibes based "expand your mind" kind of music subculture appeals to his Spectralist sensibilities and he likes sharing tunes with Rodimus in return)

Drift picking tracks on his own would likely lead him down more of a classic rock road, but more of the chill side of things, more of the folksy type of classic rock -- I can see Drift really enjoying Spirit in the Sky - Norman Greenbaum or California Dreamin' - The Mamas and the Papas. or like, Incense and Peppermints - Strawberry Alarm Clock.

I mean, Drift might even go Full Earth Hippie and end up liking Green Tambourine - Lemon Pipers, lmao. in fact I am fairly certain of this.

I can see Drift loving Aquarius/Let The Sunshine In - The 5th Dimension. the whole vibe would probably appeal to him.

he'd quite possibly also like I Need a Dollar - Aloe Blacc, but it hits him in a place that still hurts to think about. so it's in rare rotation.

meanwhile Ratchet would probably be fine with classic rock too, like the good Dad Rock shit, just a lot of tracks from the 70s/80s -- a couple tracks he and Drift could probably agree on would likely lean more into the experimental/psychedelic rock side of things, like White Room - Cream or something like Wheel in the Sky - Journey

Rodimus tries to troll Ratchet by recommending Old Time Rock n Roll - Bob Seger, but joke's on him because it turns out Ratchet loves it, lmao

Swerve would go all out on classic bar jams for the evening playlist. Chill, good shit like Do It Again - Steely Dan.

Megatron would love Sinnerman - Nina Simone; He'd send it to Drift in a command crew level secured data packet, and they would both feel the hell out of this song. They don't need to talk about why. They never mention it to each other.

Megs would also probably love These Old Bones by Dolly Parton (mostly due to the lyrics, rather than the upbeat tune, but he would find it relatively relaxing), as well as 9 to 5 (of course), and similar music. Country from back in the day when country music was more about the struggle of poverty and the working life of rural people. Country music from back when songs told all the untold stories. He can respect that.

He'd listen to You'll Never Leave Harlan Alive by Patty Loveless and it would get him right in the fucking spark. Megatron is the Cybertronian equivalent of an Appalachian miner, god dammit. He understands.

Megatron would also like Johnny Cash; He would overthink Ghost Riders in the Sky and it would depress him, partly because it reminds him of Seekers... sigh.

I think he'd also like Cold War - Janelle Monae. He'd be way into good lyrics; What's being said in a song matters most to him. "This is a cold war, you better know what you're fighting for..." Indeed.

anyway I like thinking about what jams Cybertronians might like from their available selection of Earth tunes

#long post #transformers #maccadam #maccadams #idw drift #idw 1 #idw transformers #mtmte #lost light #idw ratchet #idw rodimus #idw swerve #idw megatron

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in1-nutshell · 2 months

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Hi, again! I want to try mixing Generations this time. This one have a human Buddy that is very tired and VERY done, but selfless human that keeps reincarnated to different Transformers universes everytime they passed away. They have no idea why this is happening - no idea what's causing this. Human Buddy is knowledgeable and very experienced of the Cybertronian wars. They are skilled at healing humans and Cybertronians. I have no doubt that there will be alot of confusion on how Buddy knew how Cybertronians work and why Buddy is never suprised about the Cybertronians existence. Everytime Buddy sees their Cybertronian friends counterparts for the first time, they looked at them blankly and say, "I'm getting too old for this.", despite they don't look old, Buddy can feel aging mentally. Characters - Bumblebee Movie: Bumblebee, Rise of the Beasts: Optimus Prime, Shattered Glass: Soundwave, Earthspark: Megatron, and IDW: Prowl. Please and thank you. Have a nice Day/Night.

Buddy is so tired of getting flung all over the place and occasionally gets scared by their friends new frames or universes rules.

Hope you enjoy!

Human Buddy gets reincarnated in different universe with Bumblebee from The Bumblebee Movie, RotB Optimus Prime, SG! Soundwave, TFE Megatron and IDW Prowl

SFW, Platonic, tiny bit of angst, Human reader

BB Movie/ RotB/ SG!/ TFE/ IDW

The Bumblebee Movie: Bumblebee

Bumblebee and Charlie were startled at the sudden 15-year-old at the opening of the garage door.

The kid looked at Bee then at Charlie before entering and closing the door.

Before Charlie could say anything, they introduced themselves as Buddy.

This introduction was one of the rockier ones that Buddy had to endure.

“Listen! I know this is going to sound weird, but Bee here—”--Buddy

“Bee?”--Charlie

“Well, his full name is Bumblebee—”--Buddy

“I named him that!”--Charlie

“Shush!”--Buddy

“Don’t shush me, you’re like 15!”--Charlie

Buddy slapping their hand on their face.

“This is going to take a while…”--Buddy

It took a bit to explain about their reincarnation to the two of them.

Charlie was a bit skeptical, but the number of details they were putting and the genuine concern they had for her and Bee seemed to put out the fears.

Bumblebee on the other hand, completely trusted this new human and what they said.

Sure, he was still trying to piece things from his past, but everything else seemed to check out.

He does try and ask Buddy the best he can about the other universe they had been a part of.

Buddy is sitting in Bee while Charlie takes a nap in her room.

Buddy gently pats Bee’s wheel hearing some sad whirls.

“You know… I knew a version of you who also didn’t have his voice box.”--Buddy

The whirls stop.

“He lost it to Megatron back on Tiger Pax. But he was one of the best scouts I ever met, and I’ve been around.”--Buddy

Buddy gently puts their head on Bees wheel.

“You’re doing a great job Bee.”--Buddy

Bee whirls happily making Buddy chuckle a bit.

Rise of the Beast: Optimus Prime

Buddy, now an 80-year-old, stood in front of the small group of Autobots, humans, and Maximal with their hands on their hips.

They honestly got worried for a second that they weren’t going to see any of their friends at this age they spawned in.

But just as they were taking a stroll by the docks and nearly got smashed by a flying tire, they found their family again.

“Hi!”--Buddy

Everyone freezes.

“I would have thought you took your whole ‘robots in disguise’ thing a bit more seriously Prime.”--Buddy

“… Who’s that?”--Mirage

Buddy adjusts their glasses a bit.

“…Mirage? Oh, it is you and—SWEET PRIMUS WHAT HAPPENED!?”--Buddy

Buddy hurriedly moves to Bumblebee’s fallen body.

Optimus tries to move in between them and Bee.

“Move it Prime! Let me look!”--Buddy

“How do you know my name?”--Optimus

“I’ll tell you if you let me look at your scout!”--Buddy

Optimus moves a side and lets Buddy take a closer inspection.

Mirage bends over to Noah and Elena.

“Are you guy’s psychic too?”--Mirage

“No!”--Noah

“No, I’ve just been tossed from dimension to dimension all the time and have picked up on a few things.”--Buddy

Mirage is about to say something else when Buddy throws a wrench at his helm without even looking.

“Learned that from Ratchet.”--Buddy

It was a bit harder to talk with this Prime than others they had the pleasure of meeting.

Mainly it was because of his wariness against humans, which Buddy completely understood and didn’t push Prime on the subject too much.

Optimus did ask from time to time about his other alternatives and how they fared in the war.

Buddy tried their best to tell him about the other Prime’s, but they did get upset when they saw him try and mimic some of their styles.

“Prime, we need to have a talk.”--Buddy

“About what exactly.”--Optimus

Buddy gesturing at him.

“You. This. All of this. You’re not acting like yourself.”--Buddy

“I am—”--Optimus

“I mean your authentic self. Listen, I know this is absolutely terrifying. I’ve been through this war almost, if not longer than you have. I lost count a long time ago.”--Buddy

“What—”--Optimus

“Shush!... Optimus, you shouldn’t have to change yourself to fit into a mold of another. You’re the best you in this universe and nothing is going to change that. You have a team, a growing family, that loves you for who you are. Don’t change that. Now, yes improvements are necessary here and there but that’s a part of growing up. So, stop trying to act like some one else and lets find out how to stop Unicron.”--Buddy

Optimus smiles at them tiredly.

“Thank you, Buddy,…”--Optimus

“Anyways you have a mellowed version of Primal on your side, if that’s not an added bonus I don’t know what is.”--Buddy

“A mellowed version?”--Optimus

Shattered Glass: Soundwave

Soundwave was moving some crates to the main room when something warm attached itself onto his pede.

He looked down to see a human hugging his pede.

“Umm… hi? How did you get in here?”--Soundwave

“It’s been a while since I’ve heard your voice Soundwave.”--Buddy

Soundwave looked at his cassettes who were just watching the interaction.

“…Who brought the elderly human to the base?”--Soundwave

“Hey, I’m just 60! I’ve been 104 one time.”--Buddy

“Excuse me you’ve been what.”--Soundwave

Once Buddy was through with the explanation again Soundwave was ecstatic.

He had heard of reincarnation before, but to see someone actually remember their previous lives was exciting!

He wants to know everything about his other alternatives and the outcomes of the wars. Maybe they could help them beat the Autobots once and for all and peace can finally be restored.

“So, you’ve met different versions of us?”--Soundwave

“Like I’ve said before, yes.”--Buddy

“So do you have a favorite?”--Soundwave

“Not really.”--Buddy

“Why?”--Soundwave

“… You have to let go of that thought if you want to stay sane for the next universe that needs you. It’s nice to remember but you can’t keep your head in the past.”--Buddy

“I’m… I’m sorry to hear that…”--Soundwave

“Its not all bad… it’s a pain to reintroduce yourself for the millionth time and earn trust and all. But if it means getting to have moments with my friends, from the ones who keep on dying to the ones who seem immortal, I’ll take it.”--Buddy

“I hope I’m your friend in the next universe you go to.”--Soundwave

Buddy looks at him sadly.

“I hope so too.”--Buddy

Earthspark: Megatron

None of the Autobots or Maltos were prepared to see the random 10-year-old stare at them wide eyed and drop their juice box as they ran over to Optimus and Megatron hugging their pedes.

“Finally! It’s been a while since I’ve seen a good Megatron!”--Buddy

“What?”--Megatron

“Who let a 10 year old in the base!”--Dot

Buddy taking notice of the new badge on Prime and Megatron before face palming.

“Primus… This is another shadow government things again…”--Buddy

This universe by far took the record for bots believing their story of reincarnation.

Buddy looks like they are going to pass out when they hear more about the Terrans as they are furiously scribbling things in their book.

Megatron does feel a bit weird that Buddy hangs out with him so much than the children or other Autobots.

He tries his best to refrain from asking about his alternatives…

But he does let one question slip out…

“You have met other versions of me who stayed with the Decepticons? How did—”--Megatron

“Terrible. Most Megatron’s I knew that went against Prime didn’t exactly end up with a happy ending. Not even in the universe were things were the opposite.”--Buddy

The what universe?”--Megatron

“Doesn’t matter now. I say you should focus more on what here with you now than the ‘what if’s’ and questions your alternatives did.”--Buddy

“Ohh…”--Megatron

“You have a lovely family and great friendship with Dot, Megs. The last god Megatron I knew didn’t have what you had, but the family he formed helped him have some sort of closure and redemption others tried to deny him.”--Buddy

Megatron gently pats Buddy’s head.

“You are wiser beyond your years Buddy.”--Megatron

“You get wiser when you’ve been doing this for years.”--Buddy

“…How long—”--Megatron

“Hey, look at that cow! Imma go touch it.”--Buddy

IDW: Prowl

Prowl had just got back to his habsuite with his new data pads when he saw a human child on his berth.

The child looked at him wide eyed with some tears prickly around.

Prowl scooping up the child.

“Who are you and what are you—”--Prowl

The child grabs his digits and hugs them as tightly as they could.

“You’re here… you’re here…”--Buddy

Prowl looked at them gently patting their back as they started crying.

“It’s been so long since I last saw you I was beginning to think that… Oh Prowl…”--Buddy

After Buddy was finally able to calm down, they explained their situation to Prowl.

Something that he refused to believe.

It wasn’t until Buddy pulled out the book with their notes that he realized they might be right.

Prowl is wary around Buddy, still plagued with the reminder of Spike Witkicky in his processor and keeps Buddy at arm’s length.

He is set on not getting attached to Buddy.

Too bad for him, Buddy has spent years knowing how to befriend Prowl’s for years and while they are a bit rusty, they know that it’s only a matter of time before they worm their way into his spark.

“Spike sucks.”--Buddy

Prowl freezes for a second.

“What are you talking about?”--Prowl

“Most Spike Witwicky’s, and most Witikcky’s, I’ve met in general are just the worse. There was this one universe where he brought SOUNDWAVE into the Ark after just getting attacked by him earlier that day!”--Buddy

Prowl snorts a bit while looking in disbelief.

“Are you serious?”--Prowl

Buddy looks at him in the optic.

“Like a heart attack.”--Buddy

“…are there more stories like that? Or about my alternatives reaction to that?”--Prowl

Buddy gives him a toothy smile.

“I swear when that Prowl found out he looked like he wanted to bang his helm on the table then flip it into oblivion.”--Buddy

#transformers x reader #maccadam #human buddy #bumblebee movie #rise of the beasts #transformers shattered glass x platonic reader #tfe x reader #idw mtmte #idw tf

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buckybarnesb-tch · 8 months

Text

Mikaelson’s Party Pt.1

Warning: This is a Human A/B/O fic you are about to read, it contains Omegaverse Dynamics as well as mentions of Non-Con and abuse.

Read at your own risk

Their parents had gone on vacation for their 25th wedding anniversary and that weekend as Mikael had wanted to take his wife on a couples retreat for older Beta couples, It was the perfect time for Elijah to decide to throw a party. He’s a Sophomore in college and the campus was only 15 minutes from his house giving him the perfect place to have people over, nearly his whole class as well as Freshmen coming, his Beta Katherine having talked him into it as Elijah wasn’t a rule breaker but he would do anything for his mate. The house was packed, drunk college students everywhere and despite his attempts, he couldn’t get his siblings to stay upstairs. Rebekah was making friends with popular Beta girls, Kol was completely stoned with some burn outs in the backyard and Klaus was enjoying his night, watching drunken idiots do stupid shit. Thanks to Klaus’ Alpha status, something he was alone with in his family full of Betas (Betas taking up something like 80% of the population, Alphas at 19 and Omegas at less than 1), most of the kids left him alone or just gave him the odd stare. Alphas weren’t as common as they used to be but there were still plenty of them, though most of them tended to flock together, Klaus however was just happier alone. As an 18 year old Alpha that hadn’t yet found his mate he was always the odd one out, at school and at home, being alone was just more comfortable…even if he secretly hoped he would have a mate that wanted to be around him all the time. Often he even indulged himself in dreaming of finding an Omega mate to spend his life with, though he had been teased about that at a young age, his own family having a good laugh about the impossible idea.

Elijah had joined some of his friends in an intense game of beer pong without a care in the world, having already hired a cleaning crew to come the next morning and make sure everything was back in place. If nothing else, Elijah always thought ahead.

Klaus’ night took a turn somewhere around midnight as he refilled his drink at the make-shift bar, seeing some football players in the corner, laughing at something. It wasn’t until he heard a girl screaming at them that he moved closer, seeing a beautiful girl trying to shove their hands off of her body as they pulled at her shirt, clearly all drunk beyond belief. His body froze before he could step in, her sweet scent washing over him though it was mixed with something bland that he couldn’t place, the scent rushed through every nerve ending in his body sending a buzzing vibration through his extremities, up to his brain and almost violently into his cock. It was as he felt the growl build in his chest and explode out quite loudly that his body listened and moved again, the entire room freezing and looking at him now.

‘That’s enough!’ He snarled, moving between two of them and grabbing the girls hand, pulling her towards him. The largest one grabbed her arm tightly, holding her back from moving away.

‘Who the fuck are you? Get lost kid-‘

‘What the Fuck did you just say to me?!’ He growled, his chest now releasing a constant threatening noise as he glared at this moron Beta who would Dare challenge an Alpha, younger than him or not. ‘I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt that you’re just drunk as fuck here, first of all I’m not a kid! I’m 18, I’m Elijah’s brother, this is my house, and despite being drunk myself I still know better that to be molesting a girl at a party while she screams “no” at me. Shove it up your ass and let her go. Now! Or you’ll be wishing you weren’t so God damn stupid when you wake up in the ER next week!’ No one moved for a moment and Klaus could see the girl wincing as his grip got tighter before he rolled his eyes and let go.

‘Whatever man, the ugly bitch is a fucking prude anyway. She’s all yours.’ With that, they were gone and Klaus held the girls hand, pulling her after him gently and getting a cold pack from the freezer before guiding her down the stairs to his room, unlocking the door that he had ensured no one could get into.

‘Come on in, no one will bother you down here. It’s also relatively sound proof, so at least that God awful music stops.’ He joked as he tried to calm her as he could smell her fear, sitting beside her on the couch and wrapping the ice pack around her arm.

‘Thank God, I thought there was no escaping it.’ She giggled, still stiff and uncomfortable but the sound made him smile. ‘Thank you for helping me, they’re these frat jerks who have been fucking with me since the start of term…never thought they would do something like that though.’ Klaus could tell she had been drinking but she also wasn’t so drunk she wasn’t thinking straight which was a comfort for him at the moment, seeing how she held his hand so tightly that she felt something between them too.

‘Why are they bothering you?’ He wondered and she sighed, leaning back into the couch.

‘I have classes with them and I’m quiet, honestly I think it started as a dare to go out with the shy girl who never talked to anyone. When I ignored all of them, they got more…pushy…they started following me around and teasing me. I guess they thought since it wasn’t on campus they could do what they wanted, and assholes mixed with alcohol is a terrible combo. Eventually they’ll get bored and find some other poor Beta to bother but until then, I ignore them.’ Klaus couldn’t explain why this upset him so much. He felt a rage bubbling up in him that was wild and angry, he hated men that tried to force themselves on women of course, he found it disgusting but his anger was white hot and he wanted to go kill those assholes who thought they could harm this girl…his girl…his Omega.

The thought rushed through his head at 100 miles an hour but as he took in her scent again he knew. He had never smelled an Omega before, never being close enough to one not on suppressants, but he knew. ‘I’ll kill them. I will slaughter them for touching you Omega.’ He pressed his lips to the back of her hand, not moving any closer as he wanted to give her space, not knowing how she was feeling right now as she was clearly tipsy and from the bland smell trying to cover her scent, she was on suppressants too. Klaus only smelled through them because she was his mate, and an Omega cannot hide their full scent from their true Alpha.

‘Please don’t hurt me?’ She whispered, clearly nervous but unable to hide her interest in his scent as she leaned almost subconsciously closer to his neck.

‘Hurt you? Never…you’re my Omega. I…I want to be a good Alpha for you, I’ve been looking for…I’ve been hoping for…fuck!’ He didn’t know how to say what he wanted to, not knowing what would upset her and what wouldn’t.

A moment later, after wracking his brain for something to say to relax her he felt the couch move as she pushed herself closer to him and held onto his arm with both of her hands. ‘What have you been hoping for?’ She looked at him so sweetly and while he could still feel her discomfort, she wasn’t as scared as she had been and he relaxed himself a bit.

‘I’ve been hoping to find my mate…Beta, Alpha, Omega, it didn’t matter to me, I just wanted someone to…love? I-I feel like I’ve always been alone, my family doesn’t understand me, they think I’m just some stupid Alpha who’s never going to amount to anything, and I always wanted you…someone with that perfect scent who would be the best person for me. I was really starting to think-‘

‘-you didn’t exist…me too.’ She admitted, shyly looking up at him and Klaus tucked her hair behind her ear with his free arm that she wasn’t holding. ‘My family always made me feel useless. My two brothers are Alphas and my dad was so proud…then he gets an Omega daughter that he has to hide, has to pay money for medication to make sure I’m safe and…honestly I don’t think he really cares what happens to me, none of them do.’ Klaus could feel her pain and he wondered for a brief second if she could feel his, answering his own question as he knew she could, holding her hands in his own and staring straight into her eyes. ‘I hoped I would find an Alpha who wanted me as badly as I wanted them…’

‘I do…I really do. I-‘ he cut himself off, taking a breath before leaning in and giving her several seconds to pull away if she wanted to, pressing his lips to her soft ones and feeling as if fireworks were exploding in his body. Not just his stomach but his brain, his arms and legs, everything felt on fire in the most wonderful way possible and he loved it. Suddenly she moved, pushing him back against the couch and climbing into his lap, allowing him to hold her to him tightly, their lips molding together passionately. Her fingers pulled at his blond locks and his hands squeezed her waist before she suddenly ground her body down against his, his cock already painfully hard and needy. ‘Wait!’ He gasped and she pulled back, fear in her eyes but he just smiled. ‘I’m Klaus by the way.’ He introduced, finding hilarity in the fact that names hadn’t been important when they already felt they knew everything about each other.

‘Y/n, nice to meet you Alpha.’ She giggled and he groaned.

‘You’re killing me Omega.’ He tugged her back into their harsh kiss before hoisting her up and moving them to his bed and crawling over her, lips traveling down to her neck while she pulled his shirt over his head and just as she moved to grab hers he caught her hands.

‘What’s wrong?’ She asked, worriedly.

‘You’ve been drinking…we both have, I…I can’t do this while you’re drunk.’ She looked at him, stunned and in clear disbelief. ‘Stay…I’ll lend you some clothes and if you still want to tomorrow then I’ll mark you for everyone to see…I don’t want to hurt you Y/n.’

She paused for a second before nodding her head. ‘I understand…I would rather we both remember it too.’ She joked, kissing him again and moving to sit up. Klaus grabbed her a clean shirt and some boxers for her to wear, turning around as she changed before feeling her arms around his naked torso. ‘You’re really sweet, you know that, right?’ He shrugged, brushing it off but she stopped him as he sat on the bed, her standing between his legs and making him tilt his head to look up at her. ‘I mean it Klaus. Anyone else would have happily fucked me without a second thought…I always worried that’s what would happen to me anyway-‘

‘I will never let anyone else touch you! You’re safe Omega-‘

‘I know. I feel safe with you…you’re a good person Alpha. Fuck whatever your family has to say to you, you’re perfect and they need to get over themselves.’ She straddled his lap and kissed him again, hugging him tightly and snuggling into him as he pulled the blankets over the both of them and flicked off the lights, nuzzling his nose into his Omegas neck and happily allowing himself to drift off to sleep with her in his arms.

Waking up the next morning was comforting for the both of them, Y/n had buried her face into Klaus’ neck and he had his arms wrapped around her body firmly. As he woke he brushed her hair from her face and she blushed, yawning deeply before squeaking and jumping up. ‘Gotta pee!’ She exclaimed and he chuckled, checking the time and seeing that it was only 7am. Y/n fell back into the bed and snuggled back into his body, pulling the blankets around her snuggly and Klaus could instantly see her urge to nest as she was finally so close to her Alpha and not overwhelmed by the effects of alcohol.

‘Hold on.’ He told her, hopping up and opening his closet door to reveal several large blankets and a few pillows that he tossed onto the bed for her as well as a huge comforter. She instantly began fixing his bed just the way she wanted it and he was fascinated, never having seen a real nest before. Some Betas do it and they’re taught about it in school but every nest builder is different and seeing another couples nest is considered very rude. It’s personal. The idea of that was nice to Klaus, knowing no one else would ever see their nest was a wonderful thought. ‘This is wonderful Omega, it looks incredibly comfortable.’ She grinned, nodding her head.

‘Snuggle Alpha.’ She grabbed his hand and pulled him into the intricately molded nest and it truly was incredibly comfortable. Klaus held her body to his chest tightly, his instincts to keep her close to him-especially until she is marked-feeling overwhelming. ‘Can we just stay here forever?’ She asked suddenly and he smiled.

‘I think I would much prefer having our own place where my brothers and sister can’t walk down here and pound on my door whenever they want…would-I mean, would you want to live with me?’ Y/n raised her eyebrows and he could feel her asking him if he was stupid. ‘Right, well my father left me everything when he died a few years ago. There’s a house about 20 miles away that…I mean if you wanted to-‘ She took his face into her hands and kissed him hard, excitement swirling through their as of yet incomplete bond and if this is how strong it is already he can’t imagine what he will feel from and for her once it is and Klaus has never been more happy. ‘I’m going to take care of you Omega, everything you’ve ever wanted, you’re gonna have it!’ He grinned, leaning close and kissing her neck right over her scent gland which cause a sound to trill from her throat that Klaus had only ever heard of…his mate was purring. ‘That’s the loveliest sound I’ve ever heard Princess.’

‘Really? My family always thought it was annoying.’ She tried to play it off but he could see that it really bothered her.

‘I love it Omega, I want to hear it forever. You’re mine now, not theirs, whatever you want is yours.’ Klaus held his mate close and snuggled into the nest with her, drifting back to sleep fairly quickly, the both of them completely content for the first time in their lives.

There will be a part 2 of them moving in together and a smutty HEA🥰🥰

Part 2

Klaus Mikaelson Masterlist

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b-imbou · 1 year

Text

honey baby (SPOILED!)

Ran Haitani x f!reader | Rin Haitani x f!reader

Genre: smut & angst Notes: christening my new blog with a new series! I got inspired while listening to Kali Uchis’ TO FEEL ALIVE EP. The series is set in the 80s but the era isn’t really a huge part of the story. And it’s also set in Italy! There will be some dark content but all warnings will be added accordingly. Happy reading! Warnings: cheating, oral sex, possessiveness, masturbation. Words: 11.7k

Another gift from your daddy.

You’ve been getting a lot of those lately. You’ve been working under Mitsuya since you moved to The Amalfi Coast three years ago. But who paid for your travel costs and air fare? Papà. Who continues to subsidise your living expenses? Papà does. Suya often teases you, calls you spoiled. You are. Always have been, and you think you always will be.

Papà shouldn’t mind.

What use is being rich if he can’t give his baby girl anything she wants?

Papà wouldn’t mind.

What else would drive him to work so hard but providing for his favourite daughter?

Papà doesn’t mind.

His favourite daughter is his only daughter, after all.

He was willing, albeit a little hesitant, to allow his pride and joy to fly across the globe and set up a new life for herself overseas. You have daily phone calls with him. More often than not, the conversation is nothing of importance. Simply asking and telling how your days are. He visits, sometimes. One of the reasons he was prepared to allow you to move to Italy was that he had a valid reason to visit. He’s able to spend some time with his treasure and tend to one of his many businesses while he’s in the country. It makes him feel powerful. To be in the presence of men under his employ and offer a more hands on approach.

Your papà writes letters, though those are more cryptic. He relies on you from time to time to keep him informed on his businesses while he doesn’t have a physical presence in Italy.

“Diamond earrings, tch. You are spoilt.” Mitsuya smirks. “Spin for me, baby. Don’t be shy.” he instructs his client standing on a pedestal before him. He isn’t sure why he hired you considering you don’t do much actual work. But at least you’re good company and a good model for his clothes.

Your papà loves Mitsuya. He checks in with him whenever comes to Italy. He’d quite like it if you married a man like Mitsuya. No, not like him. Him. Just him. But whenever your father brings it up you can both barely conceal your amusement. You’re friends. Just friends.

“Aren’t they to die for?” you muse, sighing dreamily as you admire yourself and the twinkling jewels in the mirror in front of you.

You’re sitting crossed legged on a stool by the cash register, a pen in one hand and your chin resting in the other. The sound of your pen scribbling on the alabaster sheet of paper before you is positively deafening. Mitsuya is trying to keep his composure in front of his client; but she’s smiling as she notes the growing annoyance on your boss’ face. There is a clothes pin between his teeth that he’s clenching for more reasons than one. Resting on the balls of his feet as he works on the pure white wedding dress in front of him.

“Is that your papà you’re writing to?” he asks begrudgingly. You shake your head, not looking at him as you smile down at your whimsical writing, remembering to dot the I’s in your letter with hearts instead. He loves that.

“Careful, bella. People will talk if you keep secrets about men. They’ll think you’re sleeping with un mafioso.” the woman getting her wedding dress adjusted tells you in whispers. It piques your interest as well as the attention of Mitsuya, who scoffs a little before resuming his work.

“No way, signorina, her papà would have her taken back to the states if that were true. And… just, look at her. She’s a pain in my ass but she’s a good girl. Too good to get mixed up with a mafia man.” he explains with purpose, a small laugh punctuating the final few words of his sentence.

You look up from your letter, plump lips pulling into a rosy, red smile as an expression of truth. It’s enough for Mitsuya and the bride-to-be to leave you to your own devices. Finishing off the final words of your letter before kissing a crimson mark into the paper. You spray it with your favourite perfume before sealing it away like a it’s government secrets into a secure envelope. And you’re just such a romantic. You tie it all together with some string and secure a loose, dainty flower from the floral display sitting atop the checkout counter to it all. You write amore mio in the bottom right corner in small and gentle letters that you hope he’ll be able to read.

“Scusi, mi scusi, Mitsuya—”

“Si?”

“Can I go for a break, per favore?” you question. He shakes his head before instantly grinning as his eyes find yours.

“Whenever you come into work, your whole shift is a break!” he reminds you. It makes your cheeks warm and an evident bashfulness arises from within and paints your whole exterior. “Go, go away. Only if you buy oranges for me. I’m craving citrus.”

“Si! Thank you, Suya.” you beam at him, picking up two wicker baskets from beneath the counter and walking by him and the client before exiting into the sweltering sun.

You take your time, as you often do, walking slowly as to let the sunshine melt into your supple skin. It always makes you feel like you’re going to live forever, living this life. Taking it easy on the Italian Coast and doing as you please.

It suits you just fine.

There are familiar faces on your journey to the market; faces that can’t help but light up as they notice yours. Exchanges of ‘Ciao’ and ‘Ciao bella’ are swapped between you and each person you can’t help but greet upon seeing them. There’s no mistaking it, not from anyone.

You’re in love.

Like your father, everyone expects you and Mitsuya to be a perfect match. Though it couldn’t be further from the truth. Admittedly, when you had met Mitsuya on arrival to Italy, there was no denying an attraction between the two of you. You slept together, once… twice… five times, deciding you get along better as friends and more than happy to keep it that way. Your father would be broken to discover you aren’t as innocent as he believes you to be, but he doesn’t need to know. He’s halfway across the world, so whatever you get up to is more or less going to be taken to the grave with you.

“Ciao!” you greet the fruit grocer as you look carefully around the market. He smiles when he notices you. It isn’t lost on you that he has a crush on you, he has from the minute he set his sights on you, but your heart belongs to another.

“C-Ciao, bella. Can- um, can I help you with—?”

“Suya wants his citrus fix, Hakkai. Would you be able to fill this basket with oranges for me, please?” you politely ask, a soothing sounding tone emanating from your lips. He nods, gratefully. You’re so kind to him. Not because you want to lead him on, you’re just a kind, sweet soul. And Hakkai, bless him, he’s so shy. No matter how lovely you are to him, he doesn’t seem able to acquire any newfound confidence to talk to you. If anything, you think it might have made him worse.

“Yeah, o-of course. And, the, uh— o-other basket?” he manages to stumble out his sentence as he looks down at the wicker currently housing your love letter. You pick it up, holding the beautifully scented correspondence betwixt dainty little fingers. It’s brought closer to your chest, your heart. You smile shyly as you hope he doesn’t interrogate you over it.

“It’s a gift. So, I’ll let you fill it and make it look nice for me.” you tell him. He nods, stepping out from behind the counter with Mitsuya’s basket first.

He doesn’t normally do this. Fill the baskets of customers for them. But you didn’t know that when you first visited him for a basket of peaches all of those years ago. And, really, how could he say no to a pretty little thing like you?

Neither of you speak as he works, so you merely observe. You wish he had even a modicum of social skill. Mitsuya claims he’s real talkative when they spend time together, but how can that be true? Trying to converse with Hakkai is like trying to pull teeth from the gaping maw of a great white. Watching him do something so regular, so normal and mundane, is making you feel somewhat like a perverse voyeur.

You’re saved, thankfully, when an elderly woman who you’re familiar with greets you. She takes a seat on a nearby bench, and you feel inclined to join her. You talk for a little while as you keep allowing your vision to alternate between her and Hakkai.

“Are those diamonds in your ears, bella?” she queries, reaching her hand up to feel and caress your earlobes. You don’t mind, though. The apples in your cheeks swelling tenfold with pride as you consider all of the compliments you’ve received on them today.

“Si,” you grin, tucking your hair behind your ears for her to study them both properly. They’re glittering even more in the sunlight. Enough to blind anyone who looked directly at them if they weren’t careful.

“A gift from that wonderful papà of yours?” she wonders. Your lips pout but quickly form a smile, eyes twinkling with mischief as you hold her gaze and consider your answer.

“From my daddy,” you tell her. She clutches her heart and exhales yearningly at your response. Her eyebrows become a slight more angular as she uses her free hand to take yours.

“He is a good man, that papà of yours. If only I were thirty years younger.” she tells you, it makes you giggle. Your papà is a handsome man, and happily married to your mother. You don’t blame the elderly woman for having a crush. He’s ridiculously charming and well-to-do. He dresses smart and oozes confidence, earning the respect of any and all he comes into contact with. “Your grocery boy is waiting,” she points. Your head swivels to face him and he awkwardly waves when you notice him standing beside two baskets filled to the brim with fruit.

“Oh! I’m sorry, I need to pay for those. It was nice catching up with you.” you smile, waving goodbye as you walk over to Hakkai. “How much do I owe you?” you ask him.

“I-It’s fine. I’ll let Mitsuya know next time I see him…” he tells you, rubbing the back of his neck stiffly, unable to keep eye contact with you more than a few seconds. You ask him if he’s sure, and he insists. “Yeah, uh, he can take it out of your pay cheque or something, right? It’s okay, really. What’s a few Lira, anyway?”

You walk around the stall to give him a chaste kiss on the cheek. It’s walking a fine line between platonic and romantic, easily leaving room for the affection to be misconstrued by the poor boy. To you, it was nothing but an act of gratitude. You smile at him, waving a delicate goodbye as you continue your expedition, with no idea you were being watched the whole time.

It’s impossible to keep a low profile in such a tight-knit community. Though in this area of town it would be difficult to explain to anyone why you’re on this particular doorstep. Your heart beats quicker and quicker as you stand and wait. A young couple noticing you and gasping. They call to you, ‘Bella! It isn’t safe, here, come away from there and come with us!” with a prominent begging tone behind the panicked words.

You smile, easily, shaking away their offer with an almost flapping hand gesture. It’s all you can do to assure them that you’re fine, as well as speaking the words. And, of course, they’re too terrified to argue your naivety and risk sticking around a second longer.

The door swings open aggressively, with such a ferocious violence to make your dress billow around you as it follows the bracing breeze created from the wooden entrance.

“Amore mio, I’ve told you time and time again not to come here. Haven’t I?” and there he is. The objection or your affection. The recipient of your fruit basket and the romantically written letter you wrote all for him.

“I know, ‘m sorry. I wanted to see you, Ran! Wanted to say thank—”

“Come in before anyone sees you, come.” he demands, ushering you inside. Just as he’s about to close the door behind you both, a large palm flattens against it and pushes it open wider. “Rindou.” your lover responds to the brazen sound of his brother’s heavy hand connecting with the splintering wood. He comes inside as well, a usual intense glare on the younger sibling’s face as he walks by you.

Ran looks at you from the corner of his eyes, intending to focus more on his less than savoury roommates whilst in your presence. He looks at you properly, however, when you subtly clear your throat. He watches you raise the wicker basket you got for him with the love letter on top. He points to a console table for you to set it down on, and you look between him and the tabletop before sighing gently.

“Actually, Ran, they’re um—”

“Don’t tell us you brought two baskets of fruit and you’re hoarding them both for Haitani?” Sanzu questions you. Your gaze drops to the ground, he isn’t the leader, but somehow Sanzu has managed to solidify himself as the scariest member of the group.

“Leave her alone, Bastardo. My sweet bambina didn’t do anything wrong.” Ran interjects, pulling your body into his side, towering above you as his hand rubs roughly up and down your arm.

“Tch,” Rindou scoffs, leaning against a wall and garnering the attention of yourself and the other three men in the room. “Your little signorina put her lips on the grocer.” he announces, making you realise he had been hot on your trail likely since you left Mitsuya’s boutique.

“Scusi? Are you fucking kidding me?” Ran’s voice booms throughout the room, prompting Rindou and Sanzu to smirk at each other while Takeomi opts to retreat to the balcony for a cigarette instead. “You’re fucking the market grocery boy, is that a joke?”

“N-No! Not at all. Rindou, you’re making it sound awful. I was saying thank you, s’all. He picked all of the fruit for me and told me I could pay later!” you defend yourself to each man in the room despite having no reason to. You didn’t do anything wrong. You carry yourself with confidence over to the coffee table in front of Sanzu, placing the fruit basket and removing your letter to Ran from the top. “Help yourselves. This basket is for my boss.” you inform them as you walk back to Ran. He’s visibly irritated and his compassionate embrace has become rigid and uninterested.

Rindou swaggers from the hallway to the couch and rifles through the fruit basket. He picks up a juicy looking red apple, throwing it in the air once and catching it quickly as he brings it to his lips. Teeth emerge and a satisfying crunch pierces the skin, apple juice drooling ever so slightly down his chin.

“That basket was for you… and so is this,” you speak gently to Ran as you hold your letter out to him. You want so badly for him to take it, but he does nought but stare. “Can we go to your room?” you wonder, meekly, hoping he’ll soften as he normally does when you make yourself sound a might smaller.

“I told you not to come here. I’ve told you, so many times.” he replies. You gulp, carefully, nodding at your wrongdoing and outright defiance. His brother and Sanzu are looking over as they continue to eat the fruit you brought. Rindou has even put his glasses on. They smirk each time you look over, their presence is making every word you want to say evaporate from your tongue.

“Please?” you request, looking at him with pleading eyes. He nods, casually, lacing his fingers with yours after taking your love letter in his free hand.

You’re guided up the stairs and into his bedroom. The creamy curtains waving loosely from the outdoor breeze coming into the elder Haitani’s sanctuary. The sun is pouring through the open balcony door and kissing each and every object in his room with a grazing warmth. The Amalfi Coast air often consists of a lemon and jasmine flowers laced with the smell of the salty sea. Ran’s room was no different with only the addition of his natural scent intertwined with the hickory and sandalwood cologne he’s so fond of and his signature cigars.

He loosens his tie and kicks off his shoes, not even bothering to deign you worthy of his gaze just yet. Your heart tears in two when you watch him toss your carefully crafted letter onto the bed like it’s nothing. He lights a cigar with a silver lighter kept in the inner breast pocket of his blazer, walking out onto the balcony to smoke. You can only hope the fresh air and tepid breeze will offer him some perspective and clarity on what has transpired.

“Look,” you smile, slowly approaching and yet again tucking your hair behind your ears to flaunt your diamonds. “They’re beautiful. That’s why I came, daddy. Wanted to say thank you for my new earrings.” you tell him, truthfully. He smiles lazily, flicking some ash over the railing before taking another drag.

“You’re beautiful, baby. My pretty girl, they suit you.” he replies. You’re holding his hand again now, he recognises you’ll want his full attention and quickly stubs out his cigar, hoping to salvage it later. You pull him anxiously back into his room and to sit on the edge of the bed beside you. Your body rotates so that you can better face him. His legs spread a little as he rests on his elbows on the plush mattress beneath you both. “Well?”

“Well? Well… what, daddy?” you question. He obnoxiously sucks his teeth and shakes his head so quickly and minimally you would have missed it had you blinked. “I don’t understand—”

“Course you don’t. Pretty little head’s just filled with daddy, si? How good to you I am and how much you love me.” he declares. You nod, agreeing, despite it not being the whole truth. He likes to dumb you down, but you know it isn’t true. You’re more agreeable and mean more to him when he sees you as a little clueless and with no purpose in life outside of him. You don’t mind, though. You love him, after all. “I buy diamonds for my love, and all I get is a thank you? I think you can do better for me, baby,” he insists, his fingers reach up to tuck a fallen loose strand back behind your ear and lets his fingers trail and trace your jawline. His hand settles as his finger and thumb pinch the soft flesh of your chin and force you gently to better face him.

“Of course not, daddy. The fruit was s’posed to be all yours. And I wrote you… this,” you explain as your fingertips pad around on the bed searching for the letter you worked so hard on. You smile when you feel it, picking it up and practically shoving it in his face. “Please read it, daddy. You’ll like it, I’m sure!” you encourage him. He takes it from your hand again and inspects it like an art critic. His features soften and he can’t help but simper at the sight of your precious penmanship writing amore mio for him so microscopic he almost missed it.

“I’m sure I’ll love it, bella.” he nods concurring with you and recognising the lengths you’ve gone to with your little craft project. “But these are diamonds, bambina.” he reminds you. You nod, giving him your full attention as he talks. His fingers sensually caress your right earlobe as he inspects the jewels worth more than your life dangling from them.

“I love you, daddy. I wrote such nice things for you; I love you and I’m so grateful for the diamonds.” you express. His fingers begin to wander again, now playing softly with your hair, allowing his digits to smooth over the top of your locks as if you were his pet. His good girl. You suppose that’s exactly what you are. “Is it, my body? Do you want to make love to me, daddy?”

“In a sense, si.” he smiles. “Your body is of greater value than any diamond. I’m not in the mood to make love, baby. You’re meant to be thanking me, not the other way around.” he reminds you.

“My… would you like my mouth?” you suggest. He nods, finally, you got it right.

“Yes, my love. Your head is what is wearing the earrings, so you’ll thank me by sucking my cock. Let daddy fuck your face, mm?” he suggests.

Instantly, you’re nodding; you slip down from the bed and onto the uncomfortable tile beneath. He leans towards his plump pillows, picking one up and helping you place it beneath your knees. You watch him with a wanton dazzle in your eye as he takes his time undoing his belt. It makes him smirk, watching you wait so patiently and adoringly for him to pull his cock out.

It springs free, and your jaw lowers hastily; the expression not going unnoticed by Ran. His breath is heavy when he allows his cock to spring free. You’re hesitant to make a move without his say so, ever the obedient good girl. You wiggle on your knees, looking pensively between his dreamy lilac irises and his pink blushing cock. Only when you hold your stare with his, and flutter your long lashes at him, he nods his head at you. Go ahead, the gesture implies.

Oral sex with Ran Haitani is as much of a pleasure for you as it is for him. It’s a romantic, teasing dance in which you vow to make him feel good and that he trusts you to do as you’re promising. You take your time slowly rubbing his shaft and caressing his sack with the pads of your fingers, and even this simple beginning is enough to rob him of an almost imperceptible moan. They take hold, spread fingers guiding his tip into your mouth before slowly wrapping your plush lips around him.

And you’re cheeky, it’s something he loves about you.

You’re unable to refrain from teasing him to start, only encasing your lips around the tip before pulling off of him and pouting. Looking up at him like a sultry little harlot; the pout displayed on your face is to tell him that you miss it. You miss his cock as if you aren’t the one who pulled away. And you do it over… and over… and over… making out with his swollen cockhead each time.

With every painful neglectful pull from him, you return, taking more of his length into your mouth. He’s big. The biggest cock you’ve ever had, not that the number of those is particularly substantial. You’ve never been able to take the entirety of Ran inside of your mouth. And he’s never made you feel bad for it. You suck his cock like you were the person who invented it, so full of love and fervorous desire.

Your eyes flutter shut as you take him, getting lost in your own little perfect world that no one but you and he occupy. The sound of you sucking his veiny manhood fills the room with an obscene suctioning. With each suck you enact, tiny lustrous moans escape you. Ran makes a noise not too dissimilar from a gasp when he sees a lewd spit string attach his leaky tip to your puffy lips. He allows himself to groan in appreciation when you drool around him, your saliva drooping and connecting with the floor beneath you.

He looks down at you with a heavenly stare when you eventually open your eyes again, only doing so because you wanted to see how he’d react to you willingly taking his throbbing erection deeper into your welcoming mouth, tumescent lips protruding around him.

“Baby, heh, your diamonds are swinging while you suck my daddy cock.” he laughs lightly. You pull away completely while looking up at him, a wide smile overtaking your face. You had felt their movement but didn’t think Ran would have commented on it. It’s only fair they give him as much of a show as you are, given the small fortune he spent on them. The two of you share a laugh before you return to him.

You house him perfectly in your mouth, sucking him in completely. And he’s got such a messy cock, now. What, with you licking and laving all over him the way you are. The sticky sound of blowjob lips making a sodden state of his drippy, aching length is deafening. You begin to kitten lick at his weeping slit, looking up at him with lust-filled lidded eyes.

The corner of your mouth leaks, garnering his attention. A sinful mixture of your spit and his pre glinting in the sunlight flooding the room. It’s enough to earn another moan from him, making you want to work harder. You suck his cock at an ever so slightly increased pace while moaning around him, the noise gratifying him into throwing his head back.

Your mouth opens wide for him enough to look down and see your tongue, using it to lick the underside of his tip. Drool spills from your lips and onto the ground again in the process, holding your mouth open a bout too long. Lazy, loving eyes close once again as you continue, truly beginning to lose yourself in the moment.

Your head turns so that you can run your cute, desperate tongue along the left side of his cock to the base. Slowly… slowly… slowly… and then it returns back to the tip at the same painstaking pace.

“Such a little tease, bambina… Good girl,” he praises, smirking at the way your thighs squeeze at the compliment. You receive him past your lips once again, moaning around him. “Good girl, good fucking girl. You look so pretty like this, baby.”

You begin to suck, mewling with each and every bob of your head. Your diamond earrings move in tandem, an item so respectable and grandiose now laced with such salacious connotations for him. Whenever you move your head and they follow suit, he’ll remember that you’re his good little cocksucker.

And you are good.

He wouldn’t have hung onto you otherwise. He wouldn’t be buying you diamonds and defending you to his roommates if you weren’t a perfect cock whore. Despite only being able to take a little more than half of him, you’re still so damn good. You never fail to make him cum, never fail to make him feel good.

Your cheeks hollow around his tip, keeping there for a moment more than necessary as you bat your eyelashes at him. Like your mouth isn’t stuffed open wide with his heavy, cherry tip. And then you pull away with a dramatic pop. Ran can’t help but moan at the sound. You come back to him with your jaw hanging low and tongue pressed into the underside of his tip yet again. A copious amount of drool pours from you, enough to make a dripping sound when it connects with the floor tiling. He grunts at each sound you make. Every drop of salvia and string of spit that you create because you’re losing yourself to worship him. His cock, his pleasure, just him. You lick the tip tenderly, puckering your lips around the head to physically kiss it.

You love it.

You love his cock and everything it can do for you.

He still doesn’t pressure you to take anymore of him that you can handle into your mouth, somehow moaning more. Enjoying it more and more with each guzzle and sucking sound you produce and every romantic gaze you offer him.

Ran’s hand reaches down to cradle your head. His fingers run through your hair as you consume him, you’re almost too distracted to notice his hand is on you. The angle of your head alternates a few times to better satisfy him. Your spit slicken cavern is perfect for him. Every suck is composing a boisterous amount of noise. And Ran can’t help but moan loudly, loud enough to make pride bloom in your beating heart. And he’s moaning because he has done this to you. His cock has turned you into a slobbering, slippery mess. He almost can’t stop himself from moaning, carrying on when he sees you quicken the tempo once again. You angle your head just enough that he can see your cheek bulge with his delicate desire.

His free hand reaches down to hold himself from the base. Your mouth immediately opens to form a large ‘O’ shape. He guides his cock around your lips as if he’s applying a lipstick the shade of precum to them. More drool waterfalls out from your swelled lips while his large veiny hand guides himself from tracing around your top lip to smearing across your tongue again and again.

You murmur a mewl in anticipation. Entirely desperate to be stuffed with his cock and thank him in the way he desires for his oh so generous gift. He pushes his cock straight into your mouth and pulls it out just as suddenly, leaving you almost begging desperately for more. He repeats it, leering as you begin to lean forward to chase his cock for another taste rather than be teased a second more. You sink halfway onto him, but he slips his cock out again and urges you to follow.

“Daddy…” you moan, so whiny and needy for him as you follow after all. His broad palm holds your head in a very guiding manner, helping you find your way back to him. He wants his cock to return to its rightful place in your mouth. Your cheeks hollow again, sucking rapidly and pulling away to make the loudest squelching suctioning sounds you can, the pair of you can’t help but moan at the eroticism of it all.

You don’t pull away anymore, sucking and sucking as best you can. He sees how hard you’re working, how badly you want him to cum. But you’re being removed from him carefully.

Ran knew before you did that you weren’t breathing properly; you gasp as if you’re lungs are physically clawing to drag oxygen back to them. The loss of Ran’s cock is a crushing loss, you know he doesn’t care for whining, but you can’t help yourself. But you cease when you’re returned to him, thanking him by taking a little more of his length than you had previously.

Ran moans in sympathetic appreciation, hand lingering to brush your face, hold your chin, feel your throat.

His cock slides out of your mouth and rests on your cheek. He holds you assertively by your chin and leads you back to where he needs you; and you’re looking up at him as though Ran Haitani is everything. He holds you carefully, helping you along in what you’re more than capable of doing yourself. But you don’t mind. Why would you mind extra attention from daddy when he’s being so sweet? More slickness is formed inside of your drenched cavity, making his light thrusts sound even more scandalous.

“So wet, baby. Sounds like I’m fucking your little pussy.”

You moan for him and his naughty love language, head lolling from the feeling of contentment. Neither of you can help the raucous desperation you’re emitting into the afternoon air. His hips thrust a slight more urgently, fucking himself gently into your mouth. He moans passionately as he cums inside of your mouth. His cock visibly pulsing and twitching as he deposits his cum onto your tongue.

Your own volume lowers and slows, as does your performance. And for a moment, you still. Looking up at your daddy with a shimmering stare. His cock still pulsating in your mouth, his sack emptying all it has to offer to you. He holds your chin in his hand as though it were made of glass.

“Keep going, bella.” he commands.

Your head bobs and your earrings shake, allowing your lovers cum to dribble out of your mouth as you follow orders. A low, breathy ‘Ohhhh’ falls from him when he bears witness to it. His fingers travel from your chin to the side of your face, and then lets go completely.

Your mouth widens, allowing him to see all of his cum settled on your tongue. He’s sucked into you again, moving your head along him fast enough for him to force his cum to pour out of you. He watches on in amazement as you kiss the sides of his sensitive tip, coating it in cum. Two thick strings of cum ooze and connect to him, too heavy to remain and falling to the ground.

Spit and sperm bubble at the corner of your mouth as you lick and slobber all over him. You kiss down the left side of his cock, taking your time to show love to his cock with gentle affection. You smother the base in soft pecks, tickling him only enough to warrant a heavier breath and his abdomen to clench. He watches as you opt to carefully move to his cullions, lapping and gargling them into your mouth, all while holding eye contact with Ran.

“Doing so good, bambina.”

A strained moan exists you as you lick, cum dripping from your chin and attaching to his sack and keeps the two of you linked as you alternate between giving your attention to his cock and balls.

A long, heavy string of cum dangles from his cock. You gather it on your tongue from the bottom and bring it back to his length, massaging it over his cock. He holds the base again as well as your chin, wanting to be sucked a little more.

But if you’re a tease, daddy is worse.

He removes his length from you at a slight angle, echoing a bawdy pop as it leaves you. Ran smears his messy cock around your open mouth again, cum permeating your tongue and spilling from your mouth yet again. You keep your eyes closed as you feel him move his cock around your face. Your tongue begins to swirl, your only hope of searching for him with your eyes shut.

Ran pushes past your lips again, giving you the opportunity to suck. But, for once, you’re the one to remove yourself. It comes with a shocked, almost amused, gasp. You’re realising how much cum is cascading from you both. He holds his hand out to cradle your cheek, your head tilting to the left to meet his hold.

More cum gushes out of your mouth once you suckle on his tip. A thick, white creamy string of cum dangles from your chin. You resume making out with his heavy tip and hear your daddy chuckle above you.

You’ve dribbled some cum onto one of his fingers.

You move your attention from his cockhead to his fingers, wanting to get your daddy’s fingers nice and clean. He leers as you take them into your mouth, only his middle and ring fingers. Every inch of your daddy is so perfect, even his fingers between your lips is enough to make you moan.

“Messy girl,” he states. He had noticed another dollop of cum drooping from your chin. He takes his fingers from your mouth and scoops it up, fingering it back into you. “Such a good little sucker. Thaaaaat’s it. Nearly done baby, back to my cock now.”

He steers your face with the pads of his fingers back to his aching tip. You hum around him, making an even bigger mess of the two of you. You suck him as loud as you can knowing how it makes him leak and flutter when you do. You’re winding down, now. Hollowing your cheeks one final time to offer him one last lascivious pop, bobbing your head a handful of times before you calm.

You kiss his tip like it’s so heavenly delicate. A few feeble pecks before coming off entirely. The two of you an unseemly mess, completely covered in spit and cum.

“Thank you, bambina, you did so well for me.” he informs you, reaching into his pockets, eager to attempt to reignite the flame of his cigar.

You help yourself up, dusting off the pillow you’d been using to protect your knees before returning it where it belongs. It upset you to see he was more enraptured by his Cubans than your letter. He, once again, had cast it aside in favour of pursuing his own enjoyment. There’s a difficulty in understanding why he wouldn’t want to read a love letter you poured your soul into. You pick it up, carefully, holding it sweetly between your fingers without making eye contact.

He side eyes you, watching you without seeming to care about what you’re doing. And that is when you decide to leave his side; walking to the balcony to stare out at the view instead. There is a temptation brewing fiercely inside of you.

You want to throw the letter.

You do, but not really. There are tears in your eyes being fought back with a vengeance as you hope to God they won’t spill over. What’s the point of hanging onto it? He doesn’t care about it, not enough to read it. He’s happy enough with an afternoon delight of mind-blowing head. He doesn’t care about love.

Blood frosts in your veins as you feel his presence behind you, looming over you as you know he does with so many of his other victims. He’s paralysing you. You’re unsure how your daddy, who you know to be sweet and gentle, is able to instil you with so much fear without doing anything.

He walks closer to you, his arm brushing yours as he stands by your side. You observe him take a few final drags of his cigar before tossing it over the balcony. There’s a snicker from him when you yelp as he snatches the letter from your hand.

“Did I upset you, sweetheart?” he asks. You gulp shallowly, unable to respond as you watch him take a better look at your letter. “Ah… ‘amore mio’, hm? Did daddy make you sad for not reading your letter?”

You nod, a little dumbstruck. He holds your chin between his forefinger and thumb, tilting your head down to kiss your forehead. His left leg raises to rest on his right thigh while standing, pulling a knife from his garter belt attached to his sock. He slices the rope you tied around the envelope, making sure the flowers didn’t fall to the ground. Instead of discarding them, he tucked the flower stalks behind your ear and admired how your face seemed to blush in the evening sun.

He takes the letter from the envelope and brings it to his face, smelling your floral perfume infused into the paper. Ran unfolds it, but before he reads, his head sags. It’s as if he is disappointed in you.

“I don’t want you to see that fruit grocer again.” his statement coming across more as a subtle command. You mange to prevent yourself from scoffing, knowing it will only pour gasoline onto the flames.

“He’s my friend. He’s best friends with my boss, Ran.” you remind him. And at that, he does scoff. “I’m sorry I overstepped, today. It was just a friendly kiss! But there’s no way I can avoid him.”

“Your papa is a very rich man. As am I. You don’t need some little job when we can give you anything you want.”

“My papa would skin you if he knew we were screwing, remember. I like my job… I’m sorry, Ran. But I promise I’ll… I’ll make sure to keep things more respectable between Hakkai and I.”

Ran’s eyes roll gradually up into his head before returning to normal. He doesn’t offer a response, instead unfolding the letter to read what you have written for him. It’s a slow read, taking his time to read each and every word you’ve written. He smiles a lot as he does, making you fill to the brim with pride.

“Hm… ‘I’d do anything for you’, interesting.” he quotes. You keep quiet, not wanting to be reprimanded because what you had written was a lie. He finishes the letter and folds it back up, tucking it away nicely into the envelope. His hand holds the crown of your head before he bends down to kiss your forehead once more. He keeps eye level with you, not letting your head go as he decides to speak. “I don’t want you to see him, my love. Don’t good girls do anything their daddies ask?”

“I’m… sorry. It’s just, this isn’t something that’s possible.”

He nods, accepting your words. The letter is tucked into the inner breast pocket of his blazer for safe keeping. And then, before you can register, his hand is holding yours.

He’s guiding you out of the room.

“W—”

“You have to go. Clean yourself in the bathroom and then go home.” he instructs. You can’t say a word before he’s shutting you out. Literally. He doesn’t slam the door in your face, but he may as well have.

And now you are crying, running across the hall to lock yourself in the bathroom and shield the sound of your tears by running the taps on full blast. You look at yourself, eyes red raw and stinging from tears. And you can’t help but feel used. You’ve been used like a whore and tossed aside. It doesn’t take long for you to wash your face and tidy up your appearance.

The flower he’d placed behind your ear has fallen into the sink. You wish you never came here. You wish you never gave him that God damn letter or any of your time. In that moment, a temporary flash of red blinds your vision. You douse the flowers with water from the taps on the highest setting until they’re being swallowed by the plug hole, never to be seen again.

It doesn’t make you feel the least bit better.

You lightly dab your face with a towel and then decide to take your leave. When you leave the bathroom, you spy Mitsuya’s basket of oranges outside of Ran’s bedroom door. You huff, picking it up and trudging down the stairs.

“Ahhh, is the mob princess going home?” Rindou laughs at your expense, earning approval in sniggers from Haruchiyo and Takeomi.

“Yes, I’m leaving. Try not to follow me this time.” you bite back. Instantly you duck as Sanzu picks up a plum from your gift basket and throws it like a baseball at your head. A mirror shatters behind you, the reflective glass smashing by your feet.

“Watch your fucking mouth, princess. Just because your papa is in charge don’t go thinking you’re untouchable. We know how to clip people without leaving a trace.” he eerily reminds you.

“I’ve told my papa should anything to happen to me that you be the first person he suspects. He doesn’t like you, y’know?” you inform him. His teeth grit at you as he growls like a beast.

The commotion summoned Ran from his bedroom, who rushes to your side when he sees the broken mirror at your feet.

“Bastardo. Fucking dick. How many times have I told you to leave her alone?” Ran snipes at him. He only has himself to blame, of course the rest of his roommates were going to be crueller to you without him there. “Rindou, walk my baby home.” Ran insists. His request is denied in the form of his sibling flipping him off.

“I can walk home by myself, I walked here by myself.”

“See,” Rin speaks without looking at either of you.

“No, you walked here with Rin keeping an eye on you. So, my bratty bambina and little shit brother, do as you’re fucking told for once in your lives.” the two of you find yourselves ducking again as Rindou decides to hurl a peach at you both. More of the mirror breaks and rains around you. “AH! Dickhead!” Ran yells when he stands back up. He rushes over to his little brother and punches him in the face.

“Fuck sake.” Takeomi grunts.

Rindou punches him right back, both of their chests heaving with rage. Lavender eyes engage in a staring contest that has more at stake than just competitive loss. Ran grabs his brother by the shirt, pulling him up and throwing him to the ground. You shake your head, turning on your heel to leave so that you don’t have to witness anymore of this sheer nonsense.

“Ah, fuck!” you shout, realising you’ve been pelted with fruit on your bicep. Sanzu. You make eye contact with him, menacingly shaking his head at you. Warning you. Forbidding you from leaving the building without permission.

You watch for a few minutes as the Haitani brother’s continue to fight each other. They’ve broken the coffee table due to Rin pushing his big brother so violently he fell into it. Ran took a cheap shot, kicking Rin in the balls, forcing him to collapse to the ground. The two continuing to punch and kick the shit out of each other in the debris.

“Just fucking take her home!” Ran yells, punching his brother’s cheek.

“She’s your bitch, why don’t you?!” Rin responds, returning the same punch to Ran’s opposite cheek.

“Because I asked you, fucking little shit. And she’s not a bitch! Don’t fucking call her that!” he angrily replies. He wraps his hands around Rin’s neck and applies enough pressure to have him kicking and gasping, his whole face becoming as red as a cherry.

“Fine—! S-Stop, I’ll do it—!” Rin manages to choke out.

He lays in the broken remenants of the coffee table for a while as Ran falls backwards to sit against the couch. Both of them fighting for air, chests expanding dramatically with every inhale. After some time, Ran stands to his feet and offers his brother a hand up. They smirk at each other before Takeomi and Sanzu stand beside them. The other brother’s slapping them upside the head to put an end to the dramatics.

Rindou pushes his glasses further up the bridge of his nose and then he looks at you. Both brother’s approach, Ran kisses you on the lips one last time before bidding you farewell. He retreats to his room and leaves you to the devices of his roommates.

“Be a good girl!” he calls to you, shutting his door with a soft click.

Rin smacks your ass and guides you out of the door.

Looking at Rindou Haitani from behind makes you feel unusual. The inverted black and blonde hairstyle that he and his brother share is enough to make you believe you might be looking at the elder sibling, like you’re intoxicated and out of your own head. There’s two of him. An ever so slightly shorter Ran is walking ahead of you. Hands in his pockets and effortless swagger in his steps. Cigarette smoke lightly twists and spirals into the evening air, spinning until it ultimately dies in the breeze. You hear a noise spill from him. A grunt or a ‘hm?’ quiet enough to be a trick of the mind. But you know you heard it when he turns around. Round glasses helping you remember he isn’t your lover, not even close.

He's the younger brother that loathes you.

He grabs the fat of your upper arm flesh, pulling you closer to him. Rindou bends over so that he’s eye level with you. It’s another disparity from the Haitani that you fell for. The Haitani that you love with everything that you have. When Ran bends down to talk to you, to look intently into your eyes, it’s loving. He’s a good daddy, he cares about you, he worships you. He wants to protect and adore you, making you feel small and oh so cute makes you love him even more.

Rin, however, is intimidating. He isn’t scary in the way that Sanzu is, but he still manages to send a chill down your spine. There’s lingering undertone of mania hiding behind his dull, heavy eyes. He always looks so tired, but the smile is what gives him away. Lumbering eyelids can’t hide what a garish smile presents.

Anger. Insanity. Impatience.

“Walk ahead of me or beside me. Not behind.” he instructs. You scoff, picking up the pace as you decide you’d rather drop dead than walk by his side. It prevents you from seeing the way his face sours as his eyes roll at your petulance. “Am I so bad?” he wonders, knowing the answer that is already bulging from each and every braincell you possess.

You ignore him, instead. You’re a smart girl – smarter than anyone gives you any credit for. Why would you say something that could antagonise him when you can keep schtum and get back home without being bothered?

“Rindou, go home.” you tell him.

“Hah?” it isn’t enough to stop him in his tracks, but he certainly slows. He looks down and notices the way your hand is holding the basket full of oranges for your boss. Trembling fists as you take a tighter grip of the handle. “Are ya that scared of me?”

“’m not scared.” you protest.

“Oh?” he snickers. “Then why are you shaking like a fuckin’ leaf, piccola?” the volume of his amusement raises as you stop walking. Your shoulders drop and you can barely stifle the sigh that you want to exhale.

“I’m not scared of you, Rindou. It’s chilly tonight, s’all.” you fib.

Of course you’re scared of him. You know how much he hates you and would prefer you to be tossed over the edge of the docks with cinderblocks bound to your feet. Wouldn’t anyone be scared if they were you? To be loathed by every single member of the most prolific gang in The Amalfi Coast save for one, you wouldn’t wish that on your worst enemy.

“Bullshit. It’s boiling, one of the hottest nights we’ve had so far.” he laughs, as though your lie was so outrageously stupid. You suppose it was. “’m not gonna hurt ya. Your fuckin’ daddy scares the shit out of me. Think he’d rip my insides out of me while I’m still breathin’ and feed them to his dogs.” he smiles, it’s not quite a joke as the possibility is very real. But he knows he won’t hurt you, so that particular fate is not one he’ll ever meet.

He catches up to you, his hand settling in the small of your back as he attempts to push you further along on your journey. Your steps follow his, walking in tandem with him as he escorts you home. The smoke from his cigarette wafts in your face; a scent that has given you a pavlovian response to think of Ran whenever it invades your senses. An inhale that you had intended to be discreet becomes obnoxious as you allow the gorgeous, cancerous scent fill your airways. He hears a familiar sound. The sound he coaxes from many a woman when he has the time and the funds for one of life’s simple pleasures. Though he doesn’t think he’s ever heard it so softly. A meek, wanton moan as you imagine your lover. The things you have done and will do with Ran Haitani. All while he smells of burning tobacco and covers your body in nicotine kisses.

Rin smiles.

You’re quite cute, aren’t you?

He stays at the bottom of the stairs, observing each step you take up to your own house. You don’t want him here anymore. You don’t want him to watch you or to wait around while you let your guard down in the safety of your own home. But he isn’t leaving. He’s staring as you put the front door key inside the keyhole. He doesn’t stop when you lower the handle and open the door.

What is he waiting for?

“Did you need something, Rin?”

“Go inside and lock the door.”

You can’t help but smile. It’s a soft smile, though. Your features filled with warmth from the pink and orange sky and the fading yellow sun. The apples of your cheeks are swelling as you try to stave off your little smile turning into a fully-fledged grin. It’s sweet, really, that Rin is being so protective. You know it isn’t for your benefit, it’s for his brother.

He knows his brother is sweet on you. He knows how crushed he’d be should anything happen to you. So, by default, your safety is a high priority of Rin’s, too. Although… it probably helps that your father would have them all killed if they let anything happen to you.

“Get home safe. Goodnight, Rin.” you speak. His brows furrow, like you spoke a foreign language he’d never have any hope of understanding.

“Huh?” he sounds, the perplexity that he’s experiencing bleeding into his voice. “What did you say?”

“I— goodnight, Rin?”

“Before that.”

“Um… oh! Get home safe?” you wonder, what could be so perplexing about such a simple sentence?

“Ah, no one’s ever said that to me before.” he chuckles. “You really give a shit about me and my safety? Or are ya just sayin’ it?”

“Rin…” you exhale. “I love your brother, a horrendous amount, actually. He loves you… of course I give a shit about you. Contrary to what you might think, I actually like you. All of you Bonten boys, even though you don’t much care for me.”

He drops his cigarette to the ground and extinguishes it with the bottom of his shoe. When he looks up from the squished cigarette, there is a look in his lilac irises that you’ve never seen before. Empathy, maybe. A little bit of sorrow might be in there too, his gaze boring into your own and seemingly unable to break away. It’s intense, neither of you finding any words to say. His eyes fixated onto yours as the uncomfortable silence floods the atmosphere around you.

Rindou is the one to turn away first. His eyes squinting and teeth gritting for a split second before his lazily cool and calm exterior returns to him once more. He tilts his head in the direction of your front door, a silent instruction for you to head on inside.

“Go on.” he speaks, so mildly, the sentence could almost be drowned in a sea of the crickets singing their night-time chorus. “I’ll get home safe… goodnight.” he smirks.

“I’ll be seeing you… g’night, Rin.”

Your heart pounded a million beats per second when you closed the door behind you. You hadn’t expected Mitsuya to be awake. He’s lying on the couch, his back against the armrest with a glass of merlot on the tiled floor beneath. One of his knees is almost at his chest, his sketchbook resting against it as he sketches away calmly. His glasses seated at the end of his nose make him look so wise. You’ve never known anyone so relaxed and at peace when truly in their element.

“Sorry I—” you stop yourself, unable to continue when he looks up at you with such a positive warmth diffusing from him. He isn’t mad, he’s never mad at you. But still, you know you owe your boss an apology. “I’m sorry I didn’t come back to work, and I’m home so late. But… I have your oranges.” you inform him, bringing the basket to him and leaving it beside his glass of wine.

“It’s fine, bella. Grazie.” he thanks you, peeling one of the many oranges you’ve gifted him with. As he places an orange segment into his mouth, he turns his sketchbook and shows it to you.

“Oh, Suya… This is beautiful.” you smile, astounded by the stunning and complex design. He nods, the gesture filled with gratitude and appreciation. “Now I see why you’re in such a good mood! Is this going to be a new dress you fill the boutique with?”

“Nope,” he shakes his head, swallowing the orange piece in his mouth. “The most glamorous woman I’ve ever seen came by the boutique not long after you left. She told me she wants a one-of-a-kind dress for her wedding day, and that money is no object.” he beams, utterly ecstatic over the prospect of what this one client could do for his boutique.

He sits properly on the sofa and allows you to come and sit beside him as the breaks down his vision for the extravagant wedding gown. It’s so nice to see him like this, so truly fulfilled by what makes him happiest in life. You rest your head on his shoulder as he carries on talking, though your focus begins to waver.

Flurries of blonde and black hair invade your memories. It wouldn’t worry you, normally. What could be so bad about thinking heart-fluttering thoughts about Ran Haitani? But that’s just it. You can’t bring black on blonde on black to the forefront of your mind. Instead, the opposite. Blonde on black on blonde. Why? Why? Why can’t you get his lethargic lids out of your mind? His violet vision studying you like a he had seen a mythical creature in the very flesh. His hands gripping into your arm, violent skin so much softer than you would ever have thought. No one ever telling him to get home safe, so filled with anger and pain the very statement bewildered him.

Oh, he wants to be adored.

You’re fucking his brother, though. Aren’t you meant to be in love with his brother? So, then, pray tell, why are you thinking of Rindou as opposed to the one you’re actually screwing?

“She’s coming tomorrow.”

How did you manage to fabricate such a tall tale about a monster like Rin Haitani? He is a monster. But, you suppose, every member of Bonten falls under that illustrious title. Each and every member has blood on their hands. They are all cruel, cold, calculating. But for whatever reason, Ran softened for you. He let you in and allowed himself to love you and to love you in turn.

So stop fucking thinking about his brother.

“She said her fiancé is some hot-shot businessman.”

Overthinking such a simple thought will lead to your undoing, the death of your rationale. For once, just this once, you have seen a man you loathe in a different light. A man who puts the fear of God into you, in a way you never thought you would. He isn’t anything. He isn’t anyone, to you. He is only, and will be nothing more than the brother of Ran Haitani. He is not a man you should be fantasising about. Imagining what your children would look like and how you’d feel in his arms. Whether he’d kiss your body as softly as Ran or comfort you just as sweetly. Would he appreciate your love letters and thoughtful gestures more than Ran had, today?

“I think she’s marrying a mafioso, but that’s just me.” Mitsuya continues, unaware that you haven’t listened to a word he’s said since you sat down. “You hear me?”

“Hm?”

“Why don’t you go to bed? You look like you’ve had a hard day. I want you working extra hard tomorrow since you ran off today.” he informs you light heartedly. You stand up, and then bend down so that you can give each other a kiss on the cheek before you retreat to your bedroom. You knew he’d be spending another few hours lying on the sofa and sketching his design to absolute perfection.

You suppose you should be sick of the sight of Mitsuya. Considering you live with him and work with him, you’re barely out of each other’s way. But, alas, it doesn’t bother you at all. He’s the kindest person you’ve ever known and you’re happy to be sharing so much of your life with him and have him do the same. Of course, your papa would have happily funded a place for you to live alone if that had been what you wanted. But living with Mitsuya makes you feel safe. You can’t imagine coming home to a dark house and no one to keep you company. His mere presence makes you feel that much more secure.

And knowing that there is no chemistry between you makes you feel that much safer. It means that everything he does for your benefit isn’t disguising any ulterior motives. Why would he try and seduce you when you’ve already slept with one another? He just cares about you. It’s really that simple.

And that is why you have no qualms about sleeping in your room naked. Rindou was right, after all. The heat is sweltering. Fuck. Rindou. You’re cursing yourself for letting him penetrate your thoughts again.

It isn’t this deep. It shouldn’t be this deep. It’s not as if you have a crush on him. It’s not like you even like him, really. A slither of a somewhat vulnerable hidden layer in the younger Haitani has you positively reeling.

You can’t deny what’s beginning to occur at the apex of your thighs. The slippery slickness that Ran can summon from nought but a look in your direction. He can make you wriggle and squirm in no time at all. But Ran isn’t here. He’s barely even on your mind.

You can’t touch yourself and think about Rin.

You can’t.

But you are. Thinking about how he’d manhandle you and make your naked body his plaything. His fingers deep in your pussy while his lips latch around one of your breasts, causing you to cream more juicy goodness for him to use to his advantage. All while whispering obscenities to you, specific language that your papa would put a bullet between his eyes for using in reference to his baby girl.

It's intoxicating.

Picturing your fingers weaving between lustrous locks as you attempt to stable yourself and just be with him. Experience him. Have him douse his cock in your slippery offering before pushing deep inside until you feel positively full.

The sex would be so dirty.

So filthy.

And you cum. You cum and you keep on cumming as you cover your mouth with your free hand, knowing you’ll scream out in overflowing ecstasy and chanting a mantra you absolutely shouldn’t be. And that, you know for a fact, because it’s the only thing repeating in your mind like a broken record.

Rin.

Oh… Rindou!

“Rin…” you huff, desperate to fondle your own breast as you ride out the last remnants of your high. The fat of your thighs are so silky, completely sodden with your arousal. Your chest swells as your breath does all it can to recover to its natural rhythm. Your bliss surges through your body, aftershocks plaguing you as you continue to lightly tickle your clit.

When you finish playing with yourself, you assume a comfier sleeping position. Eyes feeling as heavy as Rin’s often appear now that you’ve made yourself orgasm, a sure-fire way to propel you into a paradisical slumber. You’re exhausted. Your mind is drained. And yet, your internal monologue can’t help but bully you.

How can you live with yourself? How will you sleep at night? Your poor boyfriend… You basically cheated! And you’re such a bitch. Of all of the people in the world, you touched yourself over his fucking brother.

You just came thinking about Rindou Haitani.

“Fuck,” you mutter.

You wake up late, unsurprisingly. Mitsuya has already left for work, the area he’d been working in last night now completely spotless. He’s so neat and tidy, just a generally wonderful housemate. There’s no trace of him, you wouldn’t have even known he was there if you hadn’t seen him for yourself.

The day is warm, as most are, prompting you to wear another little dress. It’s light and airy. White is your usual colour to wear, knowing it’s the best colour to wear in the searing sun. You leave your hair down and only apply a little bit of mascara. You’re late enough without doing a full face of makeup. Mitsuya is kind and understanding, but you’re sure even he will have his limits. You doubt he’d be pleased to see your face painted to perfection when you were meant to start work two hours ago.

He greets you warmly when you venture inside. The basket of oranges you got for him is placed on the corner of your desk, he and the woman he is chatting with each enjoying one each. Both of them are laughing and smiling, you can only imagine what is so funny.

“Bella, this is Signorina Gianna. The client I’m creating a unique design for.” he smiles, taking her hand in his as a sign of gratitude. She holds her free hand to her chest and returns his smile almost bashfully. She’s beautiful. One of the most beautiful women you’ve ever seen. You wonder if she might be a famous model, perhaps that is how she can afford to treat money like it’s nothing at all.

“I’ve heard wonderful things about your dresses, Mitsuya. I trust you to create something beautiful for me.” she tells him. She’s making a good decision, you think. No one knows how to capture the beauty of a woman through the artistry of clothes better than Mitsuya does. You can feel the love, preparation and adoration he pours into each and every inch of the clothing he makes. “My fiancé wants me to be the happiest I can be so he assured me that money wouldn’t be a problem on any scale.”

“That’s so exciting,” you tell her, taking an orange and sitting at the cash register to continue conversing with the pair in front of you. “tell me about him!” you insist, earning a chuckle from her.

“Tsk. Behave yourself, don’t be so rude.”

“Haha! It’s fine,” she assures him. “He’s so beautiful. Very work oriented, he owns his own business. We’ve been together for five years. I started thinking he’d never propose, but, here I am! He said he’s ready to commit to me properly and… he wants to start a family with me.” she grins from ear to ear. It’s obvious how in love with him she is. The happiness of others rubs off on you so easily. Especially when it comes to romance, you’re such a romantic.

“Ah! So respectable, wanting to make you his wife before having children. I like that.” you tell her. She nods, agreeing.

“It’s very important to both of us that we don’t have children out of wedlock. And I know the babies we have will be gorgeous, like their papa! Would you like to see him?” she asks you, earnestly. You can’t say that you aren’t intrigued, hopping off your stool and standing by her side. She begins raking through her bag as she searches for a photo of him. “This is us a year ago in Venice!” she explains.

“He looks familiar… is he from here?” Mitsuya questions.

Their conversation turns to white noise. He looks familiar. He looks really fucking familiar. You can hear your heartbeat in your ears. You can’t decipher whether you’re boiling or freezing. Your body suddenly perspiring at an alarming rate while an inexplainable chill in the air has you breaking out in goosebumps and shivering as if you’re in the North Pole.

“So beautiful…” you mumble. The look on their faces tells you that you��ve fallen a few conversations behind. The bride-to-be doesn’t know what to say, and Mitsuya isn’t sure how to recover the discussion they were having. Your eyes are dripping wet, sorrowful crystals inhabiting your lash line. “I need to… go.”

“You just got here!” Mitsuya almost yells at you.

“J-Just for a minute… I don’t— I feel sick.” you caution him. An eyeroll that is so quintessentially him is offered to you. But of course, it is always followed by some sincere kindness. A quick nod and tilt of his head in the direction of the door.

You don’t walk, but it’s not quite a run either. Not until you’re outside and out of their line of sight. A hand flies to your stomach as you try and keep your sickness inside. You’re fighting a losing battle, though. Knowing there’s nothing you can do to prevent the rising wave intensely rolling through you. You create a makeshift ponytail with your hair, realising you’re powerless to stop it. It’s humiliating. Vomiting right outside of your place of work. Where so many people recognise you. Know you. A man offering you a napkin and a woman handing you a bottle of water.

“’m fine, really. Grazie.”

You’re far from fine.

What a familiar fucking head of hair her future husband possesses. What an interesting style that you just so happen to recognise. It’s such a coincidence that her fiancé has dyed blonde and black hair. There are only two people you know in Italy with hair that colour. That style. And, fuck. Why has this happened to you? Of all the people in the world. Of all of the boutiques in the world, why did she have to come to this one?

But, more importantly…

Why is Ran Haitani fucking you if he’s marrying someone else?

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