#The LAYERS of rudeness in this one ask are unreal | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

womicatly · 6 days

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Synopsis: You met in college, when Geto introduced you, he has philophobia, despite this he was madly in love with you.

Painting. Gojo Satoru x f!Reader

Content. MDNI. fem!reader, enemies-to-lovers, philophobia, creampies,oral (fem), swearing, spitting, pussy-slapping, female and masculine masturbation, pregnancy quote, explicit content,big cock, fingering, smut, anything else I may have forgotten.

There he was, a disheveled mess of feelings, he looked at you as if only that could calm the pounding heart in his perfectly sculpted chest, oh that man was a vision of the gods, a feast for the eyes.

The man was panting, you knew him better than anyone, he was insecure, fearful of any decision he had made.

— "I think I'm in love with you [Name], it scares me" — the words reverberated through the vast immensity of the dark and starry night, there was a wide layer of stars visible that night, although your vision was purely fixed on the white complex in front of you— "I know this came up suddenly, but I've been spending my early mornings awake, you've been on my damn mind for a long time, I need you to stop this." — the man reinforced the epigraph, he was panting, perhaps from the arduous race to get there before you fell asleep.

You were friends, college brought you together like nothing else would, Suguru introduced you when you were still in high school, you never separated after that, you were like flesh and nail, you got along like no one else, you shared the same humor and understood each other, despite that, none of the scenarios you shared could be considered profitable when in general you were completely tied to the weight of insecurities held back like prophecies.

You had drifted apart a long time ago, you didn't even know where you were, this feeling had been taking over you more and more, you had changed, you were no longer the reckless and impulsive children of 7 years ago, you were different now, you were mature, aware of your own actions, thinking about it brought you anguish, you no longer knew people you used to cling to like a puppy.

You came back to reality when your heart pounded, an inevitable reaction made only for him. A long time had passed, but you were still susceptible to glimpses of love. You were really a fool, believing like a theist believes in his God, like a prognosis dictated by some prophet.

— "What are you doing here, Satoru?"— your voice sounded tremulous, embroidered with the lines of longing and pain. You longed for him to understand your emotions, even though he was here, standing at your door like a curse brought by your past while the clock made its second complete turn.

— "Why are you asking me something you know the answer to? Are you expecting to receive a different answer? I already told you why I'm here"— the sentence sounded rude, exactly like when he started to move away from you. Well, after all, Satoru was still the arrogant egotist you had known.

You laughed, although the taste was bitter, as much as a lemon, your words sounded treacherous to your own feelings, you wished he would come back and apologize for his actions unworthy of pride or words of exaltation — "I see that you are still the same man I knew, childish like a child, do you still think it's nice to yell at your parents or have you passed that phase?" — A deafening silence permeated the entrance to the house until a deep sigh escaped through your half-open lips — "If you came to test my patience and tell me lies, I ask you to leave, I don't feel like dealing with you now"

His lips curved into an indecipherable expression, since he became impassive and stoic with you it was unreal that you could interpret the expression that took over the platinum-haired man's face — "Is that what you think of me? That I'm at the door of your house desperate only for lies?"

— "What?"— the voice sounded broken again, the displeasure of the memories made itself present in your exhausted brain again, your eyes threatened to tear up, although you refused to admit that you were both cut from the same cloth and that you were as proud as Satoru.

— "Did you really think that? Listen carefully."— He approached, swallowing hard, he really didn't want to throw the confession at you, but for some reason, he was simply unable to keep it to himself, repeating next — I'm in love with you.

They were direct and clear words, impossible not to understand, any observer in the background noticed the man's apprehension, his palms were sweating, he didn't know how to deal with things like love, he was a man of one-night stands, but such a name was a mask for the absolute truth: he was afraid of love.

— "Are you crazy? The Satoru I know isn't like that, who are you and what did you do to him?"— The words had a hint of humor, as if trying to alleviate the stress that was sneaking up the small stairs of the small apartment's initial passage.

— "Don't pretend to know me, we haven't seen each other in 7 years, [Name], you know that very well and you know what? I've been going crazy all these years thinking about you 24/7 and it's been like hell, even though I'm addicted"— The statement made her cheeks genuinely burn, probably because she was would be painted a pastel pink shade at that moment.

— "But... you've never dated, not that I know of at least."— Your voice sounded curious at the same time as it reflected on the situation. You had never considered the idea of having your feelings reciprocated years after all the misunderstandings.

— "Yeah, because I don't want to deal with that romantic crap. Being alone seems simpler. I don't understand how people fall in love, how they have the energy to care so much about another person to the point that it consumes them."—Your voice was like that of an unstable little boy.

— "What are you doing here then?"—You asked, trying your best to prohibit the understanding thoughts that were incessantly arising in the deepest part of your brain. Maybe Gojo suffered from philophobia?

Satoru's gaze fixed on yours at the simple question. He looked away as his expression turned into a mixture of irritation and sadness. “No matter how hard I try, no matter how much I say, you’re still on my mind. I can’t have a moment of peace without you popping into my head.” Satoru clenched his fists as his gaze lingered on your lips, the sight of them, parted, stirring lustful desires in the man. You were the epitome of fascination, even when all you did was exist. Although he wasn’t a watchful man, no matter what you did or didn’t do, just the sight of you would be more than enough to make him want to pray. Gojo stood in front of you, his presence overwhelming. Before you could protest, he stepped forward, and with one swift movement, he pushed you into the house, closing the door behind him with a soft bang. The sound echoed through the silent apartment, but all you could focus on was the closeness of your body to his. His blue eyes shone with an almost dangerous intensity, and you felt a shiver run down your spine as you realized how close he was.

— "Satoru, what are you...?" — Your voice trailed off, choked by the sudden intimacy of the situation. Your back met the cold wall of the room, the shock of temperature contrasting with the heat emanating from his body, now mere inches from yours.

Gojo smiled, but it wasn't the provocative smile you were used to seeing. This one was different, loaded with something darker, more carnal. He raised his hand, long, pale fingers closing around your chin, tilting your face so that your eyes met his. — "Do you really think you can keep avoiding me? Do you think you can run away from me, [Name]?"

Your breathing quickened, the tension in the air becoming almost palpable. His scent was intoxicating, a mix of freshness and something indescribably masculine, that made your body respond instinctively. You wanted to push him away, tell him this was a mistake, but your words were lost when he leaned in, his lips hovering close to your ear.

“You have no idea what you’ve done to me,” he whispered, his voice low and husky, making your senses light up. The touch of his warm breath on your skin made you close your eyes for a moment, trying to gather the strength to resist his overwhelming magnetism.

Gojo pulled back just enough for your gazes to meet again, his fingers still holding your chin with surprising firmness. His eyes swept every detail of your face, as if he was absorbing every nuance of your expression. Then, almost as a punishment, he leaned forward, his lips touching yours with a deceptive softness.

It was a kiss that began almost as a question, exploring, testing your limits. His taste was intoxicating, and before you knew it, you were responding, your mouth moving against his, as if the long-suppressed desire was finally finding an outlet.

The kiss deepened, his fingers now sliding down your neck, pressing lightly, as if he wanted to feel the accelerated rhythm of your pulse. Your hands, once hesitant, now held his shoulders, as if seeking some kind of anchorage in this whirlwind of emotions.

He pressed his body against yours, your hips meeting in a perfect fit, and you felt the hardness of his body against yours. It was a closeness that made your heart beat wildly, and a heat spread through your body in a way you couldn't ignore.

"Why do you fight it?" he murmured against your lips, his voice husky, full of desire and frustration. His eyes were fixed on yours, so close that you could see the conflict in them, the fear mixed with the desire. "Why keep pretending you don't feel the same way?"

You opened your mouth to respond, but any words that were about to come out were lost when he kissed you again, this time with more intensity, more need. It was a kiss that made it clear how much he wanted you, how much he was willing to ready to break down any barrier you put between you.

Your body reacted despite any rational thought, your skin crawling with every touch, with every movement of your lips against his. The wall behind you seemed to be the only thing keeping you upright as he explored your reactions, every touch of his fingers, every press of his body against yours, sending waves of heat that threatened to consume you completely.

You knew you were on the edge of a dangerous precipice, where the lines between reason and desire were quickly blurring. But in that moment, with Gojo Satoru so close, so real, so irresistibly tempting, it was hard to remember why you had ever wanted to run away from this.

Gojo didn’t seem to be in a hurry, but the urgency of his movements revealed the pent-up desire that was building up between the two of you. His mouth moved with precision over yours, alternating between soft kisses and teasing bites on your lower lip, enough to make you gasp involuntarily. His fingers slid down her neck, down the line of her collarbone until they found their way under the collar of her shirt, where her skin was most sensitive. The touch of his fingers against her bare skin sent a shiver through her body that made her shiver, an immediate and uncontrollable response. The sound of her ragged breathing seemed amplified in the silence of the room, as he explored her every reaction with the confidence of someone who knew exactly what he was doing. Gojo wasn't just a natural tease, he was a man who had mastered the art of seduction. And at that moment, he was determined to disarm her completely. "Holy shit, when did you dominate me like this, princess?" he murmured, his lips hovering over her jaw as he traced a path of kisses along her neck, each one slower and more deliberate than the last. The sound of his low, husky voice in your ear made your body react treacherously, your head tilting to give him more access, even as your mind screamed that this was wrong.

But when Gojo spoke, there was no room for regrets or doubts, only for the overwhelming feeling of shared desire. — "I spent so long trying to ignore this, [Name]. Trying to pretend that you weren't inside my head, that it wasn't you that I wanted... But here we are, and now that I'm here, I won't stop."

His fingers found their way to the curve of your waist, where he pulled you closer, making your bodies meet in a pressure that was both intoxicating and unbearable. With every movement, with every touch, it felt like he was burning down your defenses, one by one, until all that was left was the raw, undeniable truth: you wanted him as much as he wanted you.

You could feel the tension in his body, the muscles in his arms tightly defined, as if he was holding himself back with every fiber of his being to keep from going too far, too fast. But even in that control, there was a palpable danger, a promise that if you made one false step, he would take everything he was offering.

— "Satoru..." — His name escaped your lips, a mix of warning and plea. Your mind was struggling to maintain some sense of rationality, but your body was in complete betrayal, moving involuntarily in response to him, seeking more of the touch that was setting you on fire inside.

Gojo lifted his head, looking directly into your eyes, and what you saw there was the perfect combination of desire and vulnerability. He was exposing something he had probably never shown to anyone: the depth of his feelings, the fear of love that haunted him, and the way you broke all his resistance.

— “I know I shouldn’t be doing this,” he admitted, his voice deep, almost regretful, as his fingers traced the contour of your waist, slowly moving up your back. “But damn, I can’t fight it anymore.”

With that last confession, Gojo leaned in again, capturing your lips in a kiss that was both desperate and possessive. There was an intensity that went beyond physical attraction, it was the kind of kiss that spoke of years of repressed desire, of emotions he’d tried to stifle but that were finally escaping his control.

His fingers tightened around your waist with palpable need, and you felt his heat seep through the thin layers of fabric that separated you. It was as if each touch was a silent promise of something more, something you hadn’t explored yet but that you both knew was about to happen.

He pulled away just enough to look at you, his blue eyes dark with desire, his lips parted as he fought to control his breathing. — "Tell me to stop," he said, almost as a challenge, but also as a plea. — "Tell me to stop, and I will. But if you don't don't tell me, [Name]... I won't hold back."

Your heart was pounding in your chest, and for a moment that seemed to last an eternity, the world was reduced to the heat of his body against yours, the intensity of his gaze, the closeness of his lips. It was a decision that you knew would change everything between you.

But when you opened your mouth to speak, the words that came out were not the ones he expected.

"I don't want you to stop," you whispered, and that simple admission seemed to set the last of Gojo's restraint ablaze.

He didn't wait any longer. His lips crashed down on yours with renewed ferocity, and this time, there was no hesitation. His hands slid over your skin with the urgency of someone who had waited too long, and as he pulled you even closer to him, you knew this was going to be the best sex of your life.

The air around you seemed to grow thick, charged with an almost tangible electricity as Gojo's touch grew more intense. intimate, more needy. He didn’t hesitate as he slid his hands over your body, his long fingers exploring every curve, every contour, as if he wanted to memorize the feel of your skin against his.

The sensation was incendiary, each touch making your skin burn as if he were tracing lines of fire on you. When he pressed his body against yours, you felt the weight of his desire, the palpable urgency in his movements. His hands, once hesitant, now moved firmly, one hand gripping the base of your spine, pulling you against him, while the other moved up your back, pausing just long enough to unbutton your shirt with a precision that could only come from practice, but the impatience in his fingers betrayed his haste.

When the fabric slid down your shoulders, exposing your skin to the cool air, the sensation was a stark contrast to the heat of his body pressed against yours. He let out a husky sound of approval, his blue eyes becoming almost predatory as he took his time to admire the sight of you, partially undressed before him. But he didn’t just stare for long. In one swift movement, Gojo leaned down, his mouth finding its way to your neck, where he placed hot, wet kisses, his tongue gliding teasingly over the sensitive skin.

Every touch of his tongue, every press of his lips, sent waves of pleasure radiating throughout your body, making your legs tremble. It was an addictive sensation, and you found yourself unable to resist, your fingers burying themselves in his white hair, pulling him even closer, as if you needed every shred of contact between you to calm the flame he had lit.

“Satoru…” His name escaped your lips in a shaky whisper, his voice thick with need, with desire. But before you could say anything else, he interrupted you, lightly nibbling on your earlobe, eliciting a soft moan from your lips.

His response was immediate, as if every sound you made fueled the fire inside you. He pressed his hips against yours, and you could feel his hardness against your body, undeniable evidence of his desire. The sensation was overwhelming, making your heart beat even faster, as if it were about to explode in your chest. Your bodies were so close that the friction between you became almost unbearable, each movement generating a new wave of pleasure that seemed to burn under your skin.

Gojo seemed to be delighting in your every reaction, his lips moving along the line of your shoulder, down your collarbone, while his hands explored more intimate territories. He slid one hand down, past the curve of your waist until it stopped at the edge of your high-waisted denim shorts where his skilled fingers began to unbutton the fabric, moving with a mixture of eagerness and haste, as if time were both an enemy and an ally in that moment.

The sound of the zipper being pulled was muffled by the pounding of your heart, but the anticipation that followed was almost unbearable. When he finally slid his hand inside the fabric, his cool fingers meeting your warm skin and the soaked fabric of your panties, the sensation was so intense that you let out a ragged gasp. Gojo's hand moved with surprising familiarity, as if he knew exactly where to touch to pull every sigh, every moan from your lips.

He pressed you against the wall, his lips never leaving your skin, moving back to the curve of your neck as his fingers explored the heat of your body with a slow, teasing rhythm, each touch making you writhe beneath him. It was as if he was reveling in prolonging the moment, keeping you on the edge of the precipice without ever letting you fall.

“You’re so… perfect” he murmured against your skin, his voice husky and thick with desire, his eyes closed as he held you close lost in the feeling of you beneath his fingers. The inside of your pussy swallowed his fingers in a fucking delicious way, the wet noises echoing through the room like a prophecy — "I never thought I'd be here, doing this... But now that I am, I want to keep going until you can't move properly."

You gasped as he pressed his fingers a little deeper, exploring your every reaction with an almost scientific knowledge, as if he was mapping every sensitive spot on your body. The sensation was almost overwhelming, and you found yourself holding him tighter, your fingers digging into his shoulders as your head fell back, your lips parted as you tried to breathe.

— "Satoru... please..." — Your voice came out as a sigh, a plea that you barely knew how to complete. All you knew was that you wanted more, needed more, and he seemed more than willing to fulfill that desire.

— "Fuck, fuck, holy shit, girl, that mouth of yours is going to kill me, be quiet, please" — Gojo whispered against your skin, a satisfied and almost arrogant smile, before capturing your lips again in a deep and passionate kiss, as if he were sealing a pact between you. At the same time, his fingers moved with more determination, more intensity, eliciting from you a response that could not be described as anything other than pure pleasure.

Your eyes met his, full of silent provocation. You could feel the weight of his desire, like an electric current between you. When your hands finally moved, it was as if time had slowed down. Your fingers slid slowly down his firm chest, tracing the outline of his god-sculpted muscles through his shirt, feeling the texture of the fabric before boldly moving to his warm, bare skin.

You heard the soft sigh that escaped his lips as your fingers began to explore the line of his abdomen, moving up to his chest, while your eyes never left his. There was a glint in your eyes, something that said you knew exactly the effect you were having, and that you were enjoying every second of it.

— "Satoru..." — Your voice came out as a seductive murmur, full of unspoken promises. — "You always thought you were so in control, didn't you? But look at you now..."

The provocation was clear, and his reaction was immediate. He growled low, his eyes shining with a mix of frustration and desire, but he didn't pull away, instead, he let himself be guided by your hands, his own movements becoming less controlled, more desperate.

You slowly lowered one hand, your fingers tracing a dangerous trail as they explored lower, passing along his waistline until they found the button of his pants. The touch was light, almost ghostly, but enough to make his muscles contract in anticipation.

— "You like this, don't you?" — You whispered, a smile playing on your lips. — "You like to see me like this, taking the reins." He tried to answer, but his voice failed when you opened his pants with a quick gesture, sliding your hand inside to touch the warm skin that was waiting for you, he was hard as hell. The ragged sigh he let out was music to your ears, and you reveled in the feeling of having him under your control, even if only for a moment. Your hand moved with a gentle firmness, your fingers exploring, pressing the glans as you caressed the skin with care and firmness. And he shivered, his body reacting to the touch with an intensity that made pleasure ripple through you, feeding the flame inside your own body. — "Hold on tighter," He said as he moved his hips, fucking your grip around his cock, one of his hands going to yours, guiding the strength with which you should hold him while the other continued to move in your wet pussy. —You don't order me around — You said, your gaze focused on his blue eyes that seemed to beg you to become obedient at that moment.

Your own hands began to tremble slightly as they explored, pressed, drawing sighs and moans from him that made your own body feel empty despite his fingers moving inside you incessantly.

— "You're... unbearable..." — He murmured, his voice hoarse as he tried to regain control, but you just smiled.

— "Just enjoy it, Satoru..." — You whispered back, your voice full of promises and moans that you could barely suppress despite your great effort.

As you continued to tease him, you felt a wave of pleasure rise through your own body. His touches became more intense, your own legs trembling as he finally reacted, pulling you towards him with an urgency that made you gasp. He was on the edge, and so were you, each touch, each movement building the tension until it became almost unbearable. You were so fucking close to cumming that you barely noticed when your fingers left the hardened flesh to scratch his back with a force that made them remain there like temporary tattoos.

When you were on the edge of ecstasy, your body already trembling, he stopped. His fingers, which had previously moved with precision and intention, now remained still, leaving you adrift in a sea of unsatisfied desire. The shock of being interrupted at that moment was so intense that you let out a groan of frustration, your body still trembling with the need for something more, something he was deliberately withholding from you.

Gojo looked up, a dangerous and provocative glint in his blue eyes. He knew exactly what he was doing, and the satisfaction in his smile showed that he was enjoying it.

"Not so fast, princess," he murmured, his voice husky and full of desire. "I want to enjoy every second of this, every second of you."

Your breathing was ragged, your heartbeat was racing, and the heat in your body felt like it was about to consume you completely. But he wasn’t in a hurry, and his ruthless control only increased the desire you felt.

Gojo pulled his fingers away from your pussy, but he didn’t pull away from you. Instead, he moved down slowly, his hands exploring the path he was about to follow with his mouth. The heat of his breath was a prelude to what was to come, and you felt every muscle in your body tense in anticipation.

“Satoru…” Your name escaped your lips like a pleading sigh, but he only smiled, his lips brushing your skin with a torturous lightness.

“Only I can make you feel this, can’t I?” he whispered against your skin, his voice a combination of trust and lust.

You didn’t have a chance to respond before you felt the heat of his mouth replace the touch of his fingers, he spat on your pussy, the cold saliva came into contact with the warm, wet skin due to the natural fluids of his own body, he gave a few light slaps there smiling at you, his lips and tongue exploring every inch of your pussy. The sensation was overwhelming, a wave of pleasure that left you gasping, gripping the sheets tightly as he worked you with a dedication that seemed inconceivable for a man like him, who never allowed himself this kind of intimacy with any other woman.

Gojo was a man who did this casually, but something about you had the power to break his rules, to make him want to taste every part of you, to make him want to prioritize your pleasure over his own. The way he moved, alternating between soft kisses and firm licks, made you feel like you were being devoured by a fire that only he could light.

Every sound you made, every sigh, moan and tremor of your body, seemed to feed him, intensifying the way he explored you. He held you tight, keeping you in place as he slowly brought you back to the brink of ecstasy, but without the rush of before. Now, he was in complete control, and you were completely at the mercy of his will.

Your body began to arch involuntarily, the need growing again, but this time he didn't make you wait. When you felt the pressure building once more, he intensified his movements, his lips and tongue working in perfect harmony to take you to the peak of pleasure you so desired.

And when it finally happened, when your body could no longer resist and gave in to the pleasure he was providing, it was as if every part of you had caught fire. Your body contracted, the explosion of sensations tearing a scream from your lips, as he continued, taking you deeper and deeper into this spiral of ecstasy.

When everything finally began to calm down, you realized that he was still there, his lips still gently brushing your skin, as if he wanted to savor every moment, every reaction he had drawn from you. The satisfied smile he gave you as he climbed back up to meet your eyes only confirmed what you already knew: he had savored every second.

When Gojo finally pulled away, his eyes met yours, and there was a dark intensity there, something that went beyond the usual teasing. He slowly climbed over you, his body pressing against yours, creating an unbearable tension. Every movement was calculated, every touch felt charged with lust.

“You’re so selfish, you know that?” he murmured, his voice husky and full of desire. His eyes glittered as he leaned closer, his lips almost touching yours. “Don’t you think I deserve to feel that too?”

You barely had time to respond before he shifted his hips, positioning himself between your legs. Anticipation built inside you, the heat of the moment heightened by the way he held your hips firmly, keeping you in place as he prepared himself for what was to come next.

“You don’t know how long I’ve waited to fuck that dirty pussy of yours…” he whispered, leaning down so his lips brushed yours shell of your ear. — "How many have fucked you?"

You felt his body pressing against yours, and the sensation of his size, hard and aching, brought a mixture of excitement and apprehension. He was big, and the idea of what was about to happen sent a shiver down your spine.

— "Cat got your tongue, princess?" — He asked, his voice full of teasing, but also with a touch of genuine concern, he didn't even care that some man had entered there before him, he knew he would make you feel much better than any other son of a bitch could dream of doing.

He began to enter slowly, the pressure intensifying as he advanced. Your eyes closed instinctively, and you felt his body moving carefully, despite the obvious desire to simply lose control. He was trying not to hurt you, but the feeling of fullness was overwhelming, making you gasp as you tried to adjust to his size.

— "Slow down..." — He murmured, his hips thrusting forward and backward in a slow, controlled rhythm. — "I don't want to hurt you... But you're making this so hard."

Each movement was a mixture of pleasure and slight pain as you adjusted, but soon the pain began to fade, replaced by a wave of pure pleasure. He continued to move forward, filling you completely, until your bodies were completely joined, and the feeling was almost unbearable, so good, if it had a name other than pleasure, it would be heaven.

— "You're going to satisfy me too, aren't you?" — He teased, moving slowly, with a control that seemed ready to unravel at any moment. — "I want you to feel how much I want you... How much I need you."

Your body reacted to every movement, each thrust of his causing waves of pleasure that reverberated throughout your being. The combination of intimacy, desperate desire, and growing pleasure was almost too much to bear, but you didn't want him to stop. In truth, all you wanted was more.

When he finally found a rhythm that was both slow and deep, something inside you ignited again. The pleasure grew in you, and each thrust of his brought you closer to the edge, each word, each touch, fueling the fire that burned between you. He was completely in control, but at the same time, he was giving in, moving with a need that was almost palpable.

And when he lost the control he was fighting so hard to maintain, his movements became faster, more intense, causing you to come undone under his cock, it was something almost transcendental. The feeling of him inside you, the way he filled every part of you, was like nothing you had ever experienced.

Gojo mumbled unintelligible words, losing himself in the sensation, he had completely surrendered to you, just as you had to him. Satoru watched your body, arched beneath him, seeming to radiate an ethereal, almost intangible beauty. The contrast of your skin against his, the sheen of sweat on your forehead, the way your hair fell messily around your face, all contributed to an image he would never dare forget. As he moved inside you for the last time, he felt your body tighten around him. The heat of your pussy enveloped him, and the feeling of you cumming because of him, losing yourself in the pleasure, was enough to make him cum. Your face was taken over by an expression of pure ecstasy, your lips parted in a silent sigh, your eyes closed as you gave yourself completely to the moment. To Gojo, it was as if he was witnessing something divine, something that only he had the privilege of seeing and feeling. Every little tremor, every involuntary movement of your body as you clenched around him, intensified his own pleasure. He let out a deep groan, almost a growl, as he surrendered to his climax. Your body tensed, muscles tensing as he released all the pent-up tension, filling you with hot liquid, each wave of pleasure reverberating through him in an overwhelming way. His eyes remained fixed on you, taking in every detail, etching the image of you into his mind.

The moment he finally reached his peak, he felt you tighten one last time around him, the heat and pressure nearly taking his breath away. The intensity of everything that was happening, the pleasure, the intimacy, the mystical beauty that you radiated, made him let out a guttural sound, deeply satisfied and at the same time reverent, as if he were thanking you for this moment.

He held himself there, inside you, feeling the last waves of pleasure wash over him, each second prolonged by the deep connection that you shared. And as your bodies finally began to relax, he couldn't help but look at you, admiring the sight of the woman who had the power to transform him completely, that had made him want to savor every part of her, body and soul, that had made him fall in love.

As soon as he took his own cock out of you, he smiled seeing his own cum dripping out of you, he ran his thumb through the liquid injecting it back into your pussy "What do you think about having a baby?"

#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk gojo #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #jujutsu gojo #gojo smut #gojo x y/n #satoru x you #jjk satoru #satorugojo #gojou satoru x reader

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creativepawsworld · 2 years

Text

Everything But You - Part 2

Pairing = Cillian Murphy x OC

Summary = Brianna attends the concert of The Son’s of Mr Green Genes. She can’t decide is it the music she likes or the lead singer?

Warnings = Language, Grammar, Implied cheating, 90s Cillian...

Word Count = 2917

Saturday came around a lot faster than I had expected and I was incredibly nervous. In a blind panic, clothes were flying over my shoulder, landing in a pile on the floor behind me as I tried in vain to find something to wear but I had nothing.

I felt ridiculous. I didn’t know this guy, I knew nothing about him but here I was struggling to find an outfit that would hopefully impress him and have his eyes solely on me for the night.

After doing some research I discovered the band was named after a song by a man Frank Zappa, who was a rock musician. Connecting some dots in my head, I went on to assume that the band Cillian played with was also rock. A genre I was excited to fully explore, but only through him.

“We don’t even like rock music Brie, why are we going to see a rock band instead of going to the club with Billy and Marion?” Aoife asked from her spot on my bed, her blusher brush pointed towards me.

I had invited Aoife around to get ready at my house before telling her that we weren’t actually going to the club, instead we were going to the Taphouse bar to see a band. Keeping it as vague as possible.

“Because I want to see this band Eef.” I huffed, ready to throw my entire wardrobe in the trash. My hand came up to my forehead pushing the hair back while wiping away the thin layer of sweat. “Try something new. I’m going to law school, it’s time to expand my interests.”

“Fair. But why are you struggling to find something to wear?” She asked, a sly smirk growing on her face as she flopped herself down on the bed, placing her hands under her chin as she lay on her stomach. “Does this have anything to do with a certain blue eyed stranger by any chance?”

“Wha?” I asked avoiding eye contact with her, sticking my face in the remaining clothes hanging in my wardrobe. “No, no…no, well maybe.”

“AHHHH spill.” Aoife squealed, kicking her legs frantically in the air. Her hands slapping softly off the duvet in excitement.

“He came up to me at the bar last week.” I blushed biting my lip at the fond memory that had been plaguing my dreams. “We talked, flirted I think, then he asked me to come see his show.”

“AHHHH I love it, I love it. I have to call Billy, this is more important than the club.” She squealed so loud that only dogs would be able to hear her.

“Noooo.” I whined turning around to face her, rushing forward to take her phone from her hands. “It will be less awkward if there was only one of you.”

“Rude” She scoffed, pushing herself up of the off the bed so that she was sitting back on her knees, hands resting on her lap, a hurt look crossing her face.

“I didn’t mean it like that. Look Eef, I’m nervous. Really freaking nervous, please don’t make it worse.” I pleaded, tossing her phone back onto the bed, turning back around to face the mess I had made. “Help, meee.”

“Okay, okay move” Aoife instructed standing to her feet and pushing me aside gently with a soft smile on her face. “I’ll fix this.”

******

After my breakdown, Aoife had sorted an cute outfit for me, a tight red mini skirt that covered my ass and upper thigh pairing the outfit with a matching red spaghetti strap top which show just a little belly. Sexy but passable enough to be believed I wasn’t trying too hard.

The band themselves were amazing. Their style wasn’t just rock like I had predicted. It was a blend of genres hip hop, rock even a bit of funk. it was different, but I actually liked it.

Watching the band was unreal each member seemed to love what they were playing but Cillian. Cillian was totally immersed in the songs, to a point where he was losing himself to his music. A true artist in my eyes.

Catching Cillian’s eye towards the end of his set, he dedicated their last song to the ‘beautiful girl he met at a club last weekend’.

Blushing I bit my lip as he threw a wink in my direction while Aoife decided to scream the loudest I had ever heard her scream, hitting me in the side with her elbow constantly.

“Pffpt, did he get hotter over the week?” Aoife almost moaned in my ear when the set finished. She was gripping onto my upper arm, squeezing it tighter as I watched the band tidy away their instruments.

Nibbling on the end of my thumb I nodded my head, allowing her to pull me over to the bar. We ordered a few bottles of beer for the boys before finding a table in the middle of the bar, hoping that they would us through the crowd that had began to form.

“You must be Brianna, Cillian hasn’t stopped talking about a brunette bombshell he met at some club the other night.” A male voice suddenly spoke in my ear.

Turning to face the mysterious voice I noticed the other guitarist of the band. He looked similar to Cillian only much younger. His blue eyes also did nothing for me but he was definitely related.

“I’m Paidi, Cillian’s younger brother and rhythmic guitar of the band.” He introduced himself, thrusting his hand towards me. Accepting it I shook his hand asking the man his age if he didn’t mind, he just seemed incredibly young to be at a bar. “Between you and me, I’m 14. I’m supposed to be heading home but just wanted to meet you first.”

“Oh my god you are so young.” I gasped, wide eyed.

“Age mean’s nothing when you got the skills.” He spoke confidently, puffing out his chest to appear larger.

“The only skill you have is putting a woman to sleep now bore off before ma comes in ‘ere looking for ye.” Cillian’s strong Irish brogue spoke, my thighs involuntary clenching together at the smoothness of his voice.

Looking over my shoulder, he was much closer than I anticipated, standing right behind me, a Guinness in his hand. Creating some distance, I ushered Aoife with my hand, taking the seat next to her to let the brothers talk.

“Come on Cill…”

“Come on nothing, get.” The older brother sounded off. With a loud huff of frustration, Paidi bid his farewells stomping off through the crowd just as the other band members made their way to the table.

“All these beers and they drink Guinness, you could of said!” Aoife scolded, slapping my now bare thigh. The mini skirt I was wearing had ridden up as soon as I had sat down.

“How was I supposed to know?” I defended swatting her hand away, so I could try and pull the skirt down. Feeling a hot gaze, I looked over at Cillian who’s eyes were set on my exposed skin, an sinful look twinkling in his eyes.

“You spoke to him.” Aoife countered back scooting over on the chair, waving me to follow creating room for Cillian to slide in next to me. Not having to be asked, he slipped in, thigh brushing against mine as his arm went along the back of the booth behind me.

“So you talked about me?” Cillian smirked, grabbing my attention. He had placed his pint on the table, moving around so his full attention was on me as the other two band members, conversed with Aoife.

“Well you spoke about me”

“Ahhh but I’m not in a relationship.” The cheeky smile returned to his face, his eyes lighting up at the thought of being on my mind.

“Well no, I guess not.” I defended weakly, scooting away from him, only to have him follow.

“You look fucking stunning by the way. Couldn’t keep my eyes off of you.” Cillian complimented, leaning in close to my ear. His lips barely touching against the outer shell as he spoke.

Revealing in the warm tingling feeling of having him so close. My eyes fluttered shut, my head tilted to the side, exposing my neck. My thighs squeezed together to satisfy the dull ache that was building while my bottom lip fell behind my teeth to stop myself from moaning.

“Thank you” I breathed turning to face him, gasping slightly at the closeness. All I could see was his eyes. His beautiful bright blue eyes with the small specks of gold and green.

“BRIANNA” I heard the voice of the last person I was expecting to see, he never came out with me, ever.

Jumping away from Cillian, I almost ended up in Aoife’s lap, panic coursing through my veins as I stared at Andrew. I could only imagine the thoughts going through his head at what he just witnessed, but nothing happened.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, my ass sliding across Cillian’s chest as I tried to move past him, something he did not help with, in fact the smirk on his face told me he rather enjoyed it.

“Billy told me you were here, who the fuck are they?” He asked once I reached him, his head gesturing towards the boys from the band.

Glaring at Aoife for telling Billy, I collected my thoughts before answering. Andrew was already pissed off with what he had seen, I did not want to say the wrong thing and make things worse.

“They are friends, their band was playing tonight and we came to support them. Nothing happened, we are just friends.”

“Right.” He scoffed, glaring towards Cillian who was sitting back in his seat, long arm stretched out so his hand could clasp around the base of his pint, a cocky pout on his lips as he listened to the conversation.

“Can you stop?” I asked Andrew, rolling my eyes at his behaviour towards Cillian.

In our two years together I had never seen him act like this. I have never given him a reason not to trust me, yet here he was acting as though he had walked in on me sitting on Cillian’s lap sucking his face.

“Come on man, take a seat there is plenty of room. Enjoy the night.” Cillian spoke up, with a smirk as he offered Andrew the seat opposite him and next to the bass player Casey.

I could sense the tension building in Andrew, he was absolutely seething under the surface, with a clenched jaw he glared towards Cillian, throwing him a tight smile before shaking his head.

“Nah man, can’t. Some of us have actual work to do.” Andrew spat, through a tense jaw, pushing past me causing me to stumble on my feet slightly but I managed to catch myself before I could fall.

“Don’t you dare go after him.” Aoife yelled at me but ignoring her words and screams of my name, I gently pushed past the other people inside the bar following Andrew outside, determined to fix this.

“Andrew, wait.” I called after him, reaching him just as I left the building the cool air nipping at my bare arms immediately causing me to shiver. “Andrew?”

“What? What do you want Brie?” He demanded, turning around abruptly causing me to jump to a stop.

“Why are you acting like you just walked in on me kissing Cillian? We were only having a conversation.”

“That close?” Andrew demanded, his chocolate brown eyes wide with rage. “You were practically on his lap.”

“I was not, Jesus. We couldn’t hear each other over the noise in there. Stop making this out to be something it’s not.” I scoffed, wrapping my hands around my upper arms to try and shield myself from the cold.

“You always do this. Disregard my feelings for your own.” He pointed an accusing finger at me, getting right in my face.

“I always do it? Andrew I am lucky if I can spend five minutes with you. You are always studying or working. You make time for your friends more than you do for me.”

“For fuck sake Brie, I am building a career not messing around with stupid past times like dancing or playing in a band. I am actually doing something with my life.” He brushed off, waving his hand in dismissal as he turned his back to me.

“What did you just say?” I asked, biting on the tip of my tongue, praying I had heard him wrong but when he turned back to face me the look in his eyes told me all I needed to know.

“I just meant that….”

“Oh I know what you meant, fuck you Andrew.” I spat, turning away from him. He knew how important dancing was to me. I had told him multiple times, how it helped me feel close to my mother.

“Excuse me?”

“Fuck you, I’m done. We’re done.” I repeated turning back to face him, his eyes widened in shock at my words but I couldn’t have felt more free. The words felt liberating as they left my tongue.

“Whatever” Andrew brushed off waving his arm, ready to walk away, just like that, like the last two years meant nothing to him. “Welcome to her mate, fucking trash.”

Glancing over my shoulder, I saw Cillian standing with his friend Casey at the corner of the bar near an alleyway, a cigarette in Casey’s hand. Fighting back the tears, I offered a small smile, wanting the Earth to swallow me whole at the thought of them witnessing what just happened.

“Have some fucking respect man and watch your mouth.” Cillian answered back stopping Andrew in his tracks.

It had all happened so fast.

One minute Cillian was by Casey in the alleyway the next he was in Andrew’s space squaring up to him, both men puffing their chests as they glared the other down. Cillian was smaller compared to Andrew’s 5’9 stature but it didn’t deter him in the slightest.

“I call things how I see it mate. She is fucking trash and your in for a world of disappointment.” Andrew goaded, using his chest to bump into Cillian’s.

“Think the only disappointment here is you mate.” Cillian snapped back, his body not even moving as Andrew’s brushed against his.

“Cillian, come on he isn’t worth it.” I tried to intervene, shoving my shoulder into Andrew’s chest in hopes to push him away but he was solid and wouldn’t move.

Both men were glaring, each man waited for the other to make a move but neither one wanted to be the first. Just as I tried to move Andrew again, he knocked into me with his elbow knocking me off my feet and onto the ground.

“What the fuck man?” Cillian barked, placing his hands on Andrew’s shoulder pushing him back slightly to create some space. “You alrigh…”

Cillian’s words were cut off with Andrew’s fist colliding against the side of his cheek. He was taken by surprise, stumbling over his feet, almost falling to the ground only managing to save himself at the last moment, fingers barely touching the ground.

A new found rage appeared on Cillian’s face as he launched himself forward, throwing his right hand into Andrew face, catching his lip just right that it busted open, prompting Andrew to lift his hand to examine the damage.

There was a moment where the Earth seem to stand still before both men were attacking one another, arms and fists were swinging at each other, screams had erupted from girls who were leaving the bar, not expecting to walk out and see two men fighting.

“Andrew, Cillian stop” I demanded, shouting at the two as I stood to my feet.

I was about to move forward and try to break up the fight when the bouncers from the bar appeared, one grabbing Cillian the other Andrew, both men shouting profanities at the other as they were dragged apart.

I could feel my heart beating in my chest as I looked on, a deep arousal setting in my between my legs as I looked at Cillian. His longer hair, clinging to the sweat of his forehead, his chest puffed in and out as he calmed himself down, pushing out of the bouncers arms.

Sparing a glance at Andrew I felt sorry for him. His lip was bleeding, his perfectly styled blonde hair was ruined and his face was as red as a tomato but I didn’t want to run into his arms and make sure he was okay, I wanted to run to Cillian’s.

“Well excuse me, I would be on the floor right now at the thought of two men fighting over me, Holy fucking God.” Aoife’s voice surprised me, appearing next to me, her arm wrapped around my shoulder.

“It’s not funny Aoife” I muttered, my eyes continuingly glancing over at Cillian who had his hands raised towards the bouncer, promising him nothing more would happen.

“Who you going to choose?” Aoife asked as it seemed like both men were hanging around waiting, waiting for me to choose between them.

“No one let’s just go” I shook my head.

“Brie, Brie…” I heard Cillian call but I chose to ignore him. I needed to clear my head and get away from what just happened.

I needed to go home.

Taglist

@stars-of-scorpio @lovemissyhoneybee @peakyscillian @cillmequick @forgottenpeakywriter @lyarr24

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy fanfic #cillian murphy fanfiction #cillianmurphy #cillianmurphyfanfiction #cillianmurphyfanfic #90scillian #90scillianmurphy

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starsoakednight · 1 year

Text

have to rethink this for a while. want to stop time or rewind myself and hope to grow into something sweeter. a flower that blooms open at the first sight of the sun. or the moon. i don’t think i will grow myself into much if i keep myself boxed in. this hard ground is no one’s planting sight. and i keep thinking of all the things i could have done. the make belief tea with a sip of my witticism. my smile with all its teeth. maybe something familiar for the future? now, i’ll just be someone indifferent. someone thankless and that is the word that just kills me inside. this not-mine truth. but how can i expect people to know me through my layers when i never shed them off? this is too unfair a task to ask of someone. but it all feels so unreal. outside its nightly-dark and silent. its past midnight. and i wish my heart was as spread open to intimacy and letting go as the earth. i want to be so open, i want to be everywhere. i wish i could be everywhere. like the sky- welcoming, open and itself and everywhere. anyone can look at it and through it. the sky hides nothing. these half formed ideas i jam aggressively into my impossibilities box and sob as i shut back the lid. always, it’s the same everafter. there is no turning back of the pages because you are bound to see the same old story in different places. its just sad. i don’t have another word. it’s guilty and thankless and selfish and rude. all things i told myself i would never be. but i mostly feel just sad about it. that’s all.

#spilled thoughts #spilled ink #journal #my writing #prose #personal writing

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yeojaa · 4 years

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stay gold.

pairing. jjk x f!reader. rating. explicit. tags. blond!jk being a good boy? idk. that’s literally it. wc. 3k. beta reader. @hobi-gif, ofc. author note. this was meant to be pwp but i cannot shut up so here is this mess that is neither pwp nor something with a legit plotline. 🤠 blame blondie.

Having a content creator boyfriend is fun. Usually.

You get to go on cool trips, he gives you all of the random shit his sponsors send him, and you get to preen like a cat that ate the canary when his DMs blow up with hundreds of messages.

Sure, there are the downsides. All his stupid pranks - the ones that piss you off when you’re trying to do your makeup, the ones that have him dunking ice cubes on you while you’re in the middle of a shower - and his perpetual recording, camera glued to his hand and if not that, then his phone. There are the rude comments - the oh, that’s his girlfriend? He could do better was a common one - and the long hours he spends editing, holed away in his office; the beyond inappropriate packages he gets in the mail, thongs and other things that he immediately tosses away with a reassuring tilt of his pretty head.

You don’t mind it though. He enjoys it, thrives on it, and you’re there to support him.

But you’d never expected this.

This Adonis standing in the doorway, freshly styled strands pushed back from his forehead, glimmering gold falling across his eyes. He looks, for lack of a better word, unreal.

(You’re not often speechless. Can’t be, when you’re dating someone like Jeon Jungkook and everything he does either makes you laugh or infuriates you. Boring isn’t a part of his vocabulary and you’ve learnt to keep up with his antics over the years.)

(Still, this comes close, stealing all the air from your lungs.)

“Hey, baby.” It’s his usual greeting, offered without hesitation as he crosses the threshold and tosses his keys into the catch-all by the door. Kicks off his chunky sneakers and peels his sweater over his head, effectively tousling the tawny threads.

He’s so handsome it’s outright disgusting, leaving you gaping up at him from your post on the couch. Gives you very little to work with as he shimmies down the hall, grabs an apple off the kitchen island, and then not-so-gracefully plops himself down beside you.

You still haven’t found your words by the time he takes two gigantic bites, flesh crunching between his teeth, big doe eyes sparkling like he’s stepped right out of a Disney film.

“D’you like it?”

Did you? Well, obviously.

You’ve never imagined Jungkook blond. He’d gone through a phase in college, colours of the rainbow rotating through the ends of his hair. Brown, red, orange, blue. You’d loved each hue but this was something else entirely. (Different even from the two months he’d spent as full-on ginger, committing far too hard to his Haikyuu!! Halloween costume.)

This version of him is steeped in some twisted fantasy, a dream crafted by years of bedtime stories and happily ever afters. It screams Prince Charming and has you reaching for him before you know what you’re doing, threading fingers through the surprisingly soft silk that curls over his ears and looks so lovely next to the silver of his piercings.

You mean to be gentle, to comb delicately through flax but fuck. He looks so good you want to devour him. (You can only imagine your face - a lovesick puppy brought home from the pound.)

There’s still apple in his mouth, juice tracking down his chin because you’re really making it quite hard for him to chew when you’ve got him like this, two hands on either side of his face, holding him in place. Inspecting him like a piece of meat as he peers at you, deceptively innocent and amused. “That’s a yes?”

An answer comes in the form of a kiss, of limbs rearranging and settling directly into his lap. Knees wide, chest to chest, you can’t even be bothered by the sickly sticky feel of his skin, the way his hands are too cold to be creeping up beneath the hem of your - his - shirt.

(Where had he put the apple? You know it’s not finished, two bites in and left to roll all over the rug. You’ll give him shit for that later, when you’re not so distracted.)

“You look like Barbie,” you mumble against his lips, into the warmth of his mouth. You ignore the way he laughs, swallowing it down with a pass of your tongue and too much spit swapped, a string of saliva caught between you when you come up for air.

Somehow, you’re still lightheaded, all your thoughts framed into the familiar silhouette of the boy beneath you. Cherry red lips - your fault, from all your biting and teasing and the balm you’d applied earlier - and blond hair. Who would’ve known that was your weakness?

(Deep down, you know Jungkook as a whole is the issue. That it’s your stupid handsome boyfriend with his lopsided smile and bunny teeth, dimples and that scar on his cheek. This is just a new layer to be explored, another reason you love him added to the Jungkook Best Boy jar that sits front and centre in your mind’s eye.)

“Don’t say that,” he groans, equal parts reproach and affection, palms resting where they belong, nestled over your spine. Long fingers toy with the soft cotton of your thong, brushing over the seamless material with small repetitive motions.

You realise then his hands aren’t the only things heating up.

The two of you have an understanding, an abiding awareness of the boundaries of your relationship and the roles you take on. Best friend, occasional sucker for the sake of a TikTok, lover.

He knows how much you hate your dirty laundry being aired - does his very best to never post anything that might be misconstrued, ensures he only ever portrays you in a good light because the internet could be cruel. (Even if he argued with you in the quiet of your home, he’d keep you safe outside of the four walls.)

You know how he needs his quiet time but that sometimes, a night out was unavoidable, a part of his life he - and by extension you - couldn’t always say no to. (Even if you were achy and tired by midnight, glaring down at your phone as he made his rounds, exchanged contact details and rambled about shit that meant nothing.)

He’s learnt to make your eggs the way you love them: soft in the centre, covered with too much pepper. He never washes your clothes in hot water (not after The Great Sweater debacle) and he always makes sure not to use your special memory foam pillow.

You kiss him goodnight without fail and play with his hair until he falls asleep; you bury your face against his chest when he’s had a long day, signing your love with the felt-tip of your lips. You bring him fresh cut fruit when he’s been working for more than three hours and wash his hair when he’s stressed.

Knowing each other was easy; loving each other was like breathing.

This, though, is different. New. Special.

He’s never been like this before, glazed over in the eyes, patience wearing thin. Sat so well, picture perfect beneath you and cornsilk crown lighting his entire expression up like a halo, he’s ethereal.

“Baby,” he whines, grits through his teeth as you roll your hips that much slower, the glide impossibly smooth thanks to the lychee watermelon lube he’d received to his PO box. (One of the items you hadn’t thrown away from that package, together with a handful of other toys that’d come in handy over the months.)

You’re shameless, soothing a hand across his cheek, thumb slipping past his lips. (You ignore the noise of indignation, meet it with a twinkling laugh of your own.) It sweeps over his tongue, pressing down in tandem with the second sound - one that echoes out of his chest, a growl that pitches into a whine and makes your ears buzz. “Hi, baby.”

“Stop teasing.” It’s practically begging - or as close to it as Jungkook will get. It draws a smile and another pass of your thumb, gliding across his gums to slot against the interior of his cheek. You’ve got him fishhooked, immobile, even as he glares up at you.

(He’s so, so handsome. Looks utterly out of it even as he tries to harden his gaze, coerce you into doing what he wants with that stare that makes your heart lurch pathetically in your chest.)

“You don’t like this?”

You know he does - that he loves being pampered. That he’ll rarely ask, instead pouting at you from wherever he sits until you turn to putty under his gaze and smother him in all the love you have to offer.

“I do. I just—” The rest of his words don’t come, stolen by a gasp when you grind against him, swollen head of his cock bumping against your clit. He’s making a mess of you both, back arching, hips rising, hands fisted into the sheets even as he chases friction like a dog does its tail. The warmth between your legs is so close he looks as if he’ll lose his mind, rutting against your cunt like just the right angle might get him what he wants. “Fuck, baby.”

“I’m trying,” you retort, mouthful of teasing that only earns you another glare, some poor semblance of one as he bites into the webbing of your hand, bucks up impatiently.

“Please.” He tries again, a different tactic this time, all sugar-spun sweetness. Strawberry shortcake rather than sour cherry pie, so eager to get what he wants that he’s not above pulling out all the stops. A hand risen from the sheets, digits decorated in ink swimming over your skin, sinking into the meat of your thigh.

(He doesn’t push though. Knows you’ll pull the moment he does.)

“Please?” An echo chamber, endlessly teasing, and a ducked head, lips finding the sweat-slick column of his throat. Just one drag of your tongue has him crumbling further, careful composure slipping with each swivel of your hips, the edge of your teeth. There’s nothing but desperation radiating off him, demand choked back when you drift lower, tracing over his chest, teasing him in the ways you know best.

It’s all so unnecessary, drawing out what he wants until he’s a goner, three seconds from combusting beneath you. You’d give him anything he ever asked for - offer it all up on a silver plate, a meal fit for a king. This is just fun, different and exciting.

You relent with a minor adjustment, settling yourself against him, face dropped into the crook of his neck. “Slowly.”

He repeats after you, uncertain and hopeful; his hand falls further, warmth descending to pull you close, hold you still. As much as he needs this - needs you - he loves the slow burn just as much. The stutter of his pulse gives him away, erratic beneath your touch. He’s a thousand miles above the clouds, floating on cloud nine; every second passed is another tingle of his toes, a tightening of the coil in his stomach.

When he aligns himself against your core, pre-cum pearling over his tip, he does exactly as you’ve asked. Sinks into you at such a leisurely pace you wonder if you might be the one who splinters apart, shatters into a million tiny pieces at the way he splits you open.

“Good?” Jungkook asks so nicely it’s impossible for you to say no, to deny him this tiny bit of reassurance.

(Maybe it’s the way he looks, crowned in glittering gold, painted by Fra Angelico. Or maybe it’s how his smile spills like sunshine, a peachy pink horizon dragging over the apples of his cheeks, burnt red like their namesake.)

(Whatever it is, it’s everything you want, packed perfectly and pouting.)

“Good boy,” you purr, breath hitching once he’s sheathed to the hilt, seated so deeply within that you swear you can feel him in your throat.

You’ve never felt so full before - close to overflow, taunted and taxed by ridges and veins, each flex of his hips that drives him somehow further within your fluttering walls. So full you might burst, that you can’t possibly hold yourself together when he begins to move, fucking you tenderly, as if he can feel the weight of the moment.

There’s something happening. A shift in the air, in the axis of your planet that revolves around him. It falls on its side, spins wildly out of control, and you’re emotional. It’s not just his hair - that gilded crown he wears, heavy heavy heavy like aureate coin - or the impossible dark of his eyes - blown out, an entire galaxy devoured by the supermassive black hole that is his pupils. It’s the things you can’t see, the pieces beneath skin, soft and jammy, the tongue-tart sweetness.

(The thing with Jungkook is that he doesn’t let go, refuses to fully submit, always so careful to regulate his voice when things get to be too much. He’ll blink back his tears, stifle a sob, even as his breath disappears from nothing but a delicate brush of his chest.)

You take his vulnerability as a treasure, hold it close and craft a chest for its home, promise to keep it safe even while you're the one who poses the most danger. When it’s your teeth and tongue that eviscerates the soft of his flesh, makes him keen and gasp, heart pounding like hooves, beat imprinted against, under, into your palms.

When he begs you to move - manages the request in a broken articulation that makes you giggle - you give, swivel your hips in a figure eight, an infinity of motion that never ends.

You take all he has to offer and sing your praise into the wet of his mouth. Lick over teeth and gums and trade spit for love; know there’s only more where that came from, that the fountain begs to overflow as he finally - finally - breaks that much more, gripping your hips gentle as can be. Hands soothe up and down, an unspoken plea in how he thumbs your hip bones, taps hopefully over the small of your lower back.

He doesn’t need to speak for you to hear him.

It’s more than a kiss forming against your skin. It’s a confession of adoration, sealed by the frame of his mouth, cemented by the sting of his teeth. It’s I love you without saying it, plastering the pecks along your spine, placing them safely in all the spaces you’ve created for him.

It’s also an apology, because he’s just torn your castle to pieces, shattered your entire fantasy into smithereens.

He hadn’t expected you to react the way you had, rolling off him as if he hadn’t just been chasing the sweet bliss of release, splitting your walls and making you wail above him. It has him pouting, utilising the one thing that melts you down like candle wax.

“Baby,” he whines, reaching for you, needy and horny and so hard he imagines all the blood has rushed from his head straight to his cock. Everything spins when he moves with you, scrambles across the California king to paw at your hip.

He’d been so good for you - wasn’t that enough?

“Don’t,” you grumble, searing his insides with just one look. (It shouldn’t be as hot as it is.)

“But—” A plea punctuated by groping hands, eager as always, smoothing over the swell of your ass, flesh squeezing between knuckles. He’d normally let this go - fuck into his closed fist in the shower after he’s done something to cut playtime short - but he can’t help it now. He’s been on the edge for so long, lit up in neon that demands to be seen, heard, felt.

“Don’t dye it again.”

Oh?

That has him reeling, laughing, such a stupid grin across his face. It devours everything else, spearing dimples into place as he pulls you against him. You can feel his smile forming against your skin, the wet drag of his tongue as he sucks a welt into the sensitive spot of your shoulder.

“You wanna play with Barbie, baby?” It’s such a stupid line - utterly sophomoric and riddled with teasing and yet the delivery has you shivering in his arms, equally childish huff splitting your lips.

Jungkook doesn’t listen to you often - not about silly things like this - but he figures he can, just this once.

“I won’t,” he chirps, sneaking another kiss, stamping another smooch. It’s working exactly as he wants, stilling your protesting limbs as he cages you to him, slips his hand back where he most wants to be. The glide is perfect, a mixture of arousal and fruity lubricant; he slips a finger in without resistance, grinding his palm against your clit.

“R-really?” Of course you don’t believe him. He messes with you too often, plays too many pranks. (He deserves that.)

His promise comes too easy, driven by how nice you feel, how pretty you sound when he presses another digit in along the first. The scissor of his fingers is languid, exploring for the spots that make you breathless as he hums a noise of affirmation against your neck; he fucks you open as if he has to, as if you aren’t already dripping, eagerly sucking him in. “Really.”

“Put it in then, Ken doll.”

He laughs - and then he does. In bed, with your knee hooked over his, pace slow and sure and sinful. In the shower, bent over with his hands bruising your hips. In the kitchen for a late night snack, another apple in his mouth and your hands in his hair.

Maybe blonds did have more fun.

tag list. @neverthefirstchoice @youwannabelostandnotbefound @codeinebelle

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all-about-seggs · 4 years

Text

Sultry Blues-

Rating: ❌18+, Explicit❌

Pairing : Gojo Satoru x Insecure! Fem Reader

Word count: 2.5 k

Warnings: Trigger warning for insecurities (not specified), Body Worshipping, a bit of food play, cunnilingus, Semi-public sex.

The faint sounds of ringing bells from the shrine was still in the air as you made your way to the inner structure of the prestigious Jujutsu academy. The path to the meeting room was straight and lined with stone carvings which gave the entire place an ancient look. You had a lunchtime date with your boyfriend, who would, hopefully be on time so you could be on your way.

This place always made you uneasy, not because of the dangerous connotations it brought in everyone’s lives but it was the people who freaked you out the most. To you, each one of the teachers as well as the students looked like some characters straight from a book, elegant, strong and perfectly capable of doing things normal people like you could only read about. Not having enough confidence on yourself physically or mentally worsened every time it dawned on you that you were dating the most perfect being of them all.

Perplexing wouldn’t even began to describe your state of mind when Satoru first took interest in you, sure looks or status didn’t meant anything to him but even in terms of personality you never thought the two of you would get along, so much so that you would become such an irreplaceable part of each other. But you knew his feelings for you did nothing to stop the ache in your heart when you saw him getting ganged up on by a bunch of women. Women attractive than you, smarter than you and definitely stronger than you.

This was exactly the place where all those kind of women lived making you feel even more of an outsider in his world. Not wanting to cause Satoru any worries you tried to psyche yourself up by picking up your pace only to be met with a hard shoulder to your cheek.

“I’m sorry! I wasn’t looking”, you looked up at the stranger, she was tall, her sturdy figure seemed like she was also a sorcerer but her ID pass was tucked on the breast pocket of her coat along with her youthful face indicated she was a student, you squinted to see that her name was Lisa and as you were about to apologise when you saw her sneer at you.

“ Ugh… outsiders. Don’t you know how to walk properly? Or did you not learn that in your no name school?”, her condescending tone took you aback.

You knew you didn’t exactly belong here but she wasn’t cutting you any slack for being a civilian either. You wanted to ask her why was she being so rude but your queries were cut off as by the girl.

“ No need to explain yourself I already know who you are, I’ve seen you following Gojo- San like a lost puppy a lot of times, seriously it’s like you don’t even have a presence without him.”, with a pause you finally thought her pointless berating would come to a stop but she went on.

“ He has a reputation to uphold here so don’t go around embarrassing him with your airheaded and average looking face”, now with THAT she crossed the line but as much as you wanted to give her a comeback all you anger turned into self loathing in a matter of seconds and you stood there dumbly not being able to defend yourself from the onslaught of verbal attacks that even you partially agreed with.

Not even bothering to look at her when she passed you thought about her mean words that were half untrue. You knew dating a popular guy would include more that just a little bit harmless envy of girls. At this point you’d be lucky if you didn’t get attacked by one of your boyfriend’s fangirl. But, It wasn’t about Satoru anymore, you thought. It was about how you were letting the jealousy of his superficial admirers who didn’t even knew only knew his name and face. Before you could delve more into your darkening thoughts you heard a cheery voice call out to you.

Bag at hand, which probably contained some sort of dessert you saw Satoru gleefully making his way towards you. It took you a few seconds to plaster a believable smile to your face so you could greet him normally.

“ Wow I can’t believe IM the one who had to wait around this time”, placing a tiny kiss on your nose he pulled you in for a hug, his warmth seeping into you put your mind at ease and help you distract yourself from the horrible encounter before.

“ The meeting was pointless and even the snacks turned out to be lame”, whining a little he waved the bag in front of you. A convenient store vanilla sponge cake with a packet of strawberry sauce was right in front of you and honestly if it were you, you’d probably eat it without question but knowing his love for quality sweets it was understandable why he’d complain.

“ Well actually, with the right toppings and modifications even convenient store packed cakes can taste top class!”, thinking about all the ways you’ve experimented watching diy food videos you started thinking up of ways to serve it to him.

“I see, that’s a good idea and I think it’ll give us some headstart for our date wouldn’t it?”, saying that he gestured you towards one of the buildings that lead to the back exit.

Walking hand in hand Satoru came to a stop which seemed like a closed off gate that was not in use anymore.

“ Why are we here? I thought the back exit was the other way around?”, confusion painted over you face you turned to face your mischievous partner.

“ you said you’d help me eat them, and I think it’s a pretty good place, don’t you?”, stepping closer he urged you to take a look around. The area didn’t have any benches, buildings or even people around and the only sound you could hear was the birds and the small artificial streams of river that flowed a few steps away from the closed off exit.

If Satoru was insinuating something you started to get the hang of it and you soon felt you face get hotter. The afternoon sun did nothing to help you cool down as you struggled to make sense of the situation. His hands were all over your body, caressing, pinching and feeling you up.

“ What’s wrong? Not up for it in semi public style?”, his breathy voice got lost in the crook of you neck where he inhaled your scent, “ you know nobody’s gonna come” with a slight push, he pinned you againt the vine-covered gate, “Except for you”.

“what the- WAIT! It’s still so bright out here not to mention we’re in PUBLIC Satoru!”, wide eyed you try to grab at his hand that was halfway done unbuttoning the top of your blouse.

“Do you want me to blindfold you?”, throwing these words nonchalantly he started licking every bit of exposed skin he could find from your ears to chest.

His mouth made contact with your covered breasts and without bothering to remove the piece of clothing he latched his mouth onto your hardened nipple to give it a gentle bite. Holding back your own moans you placed you hands on his broad shoulders, a feeble attempt at stopping him.

“How would THAT resolve anything?!” already half naked, your retorts seemed like pathetic excuses even to your own ears. It wasn’t until you heard a sharp rip that you realised your underwear was no longer on your body anymore. With a horrified look you saw your unusable underwear in Satoru’s hand.

“ I don’t think you’ll be needing these anymore my sweetness because I want to see ALL of you”, dangling the fabric from his long fingers he made a show of tucking it in his pocket. Hiking your skirt up with one hand he caressed the soft flesh with his thumbs.

“I knew you had no sense of danger but this could even get us arrested”, your reasoning seemed to fell on deaf ears as your boyfriend, already half way down on the ground, pulled his blindfold down with ease. Looking at up at you with his ethereal turquoise eyes that lied beneath strips of heavy white eyelashes, this part of his face was something you couldn’t see all the time.

“You’re beautiful……”, the genuine nature of his words felt unreal when compared to his everyday frivolous self, “at least I’ve always thought so”.

All the voices in the place except for his, got drowned out by the throbbing of your heart in your chest when he kneeled right in front of your crotch. The warm smile on his lips contradicted with his tantalizing actions but he enjoyed it precisely because of that.

“Open your legs a bit more y/n, I need more space to eat”, with his haughty smirk back he exposed more of your pussy with his fingers and dribbled the strawberry sauce over it until it started trickling down to the ground underneath it.

“This looks like a good dessert, waaay better than the one I was offered before”, making one last smartass comment he threw the now empty packet away and your sugar coated pussy was soon met with Satoru’s soft, warm tongue as he buries his face in it. His tongue worked it’s way beneath the layer of your pussy hair and down to the soft flabby skin underneath. Your natural slick combined with the dressing sauce tasted even sweeter in his mouth, the pleasant hums falling uncontrollably from his mouth made you wetter.

All the blemishes, scars and your self imposed flaws started melting into something more complete and unbreakable in its nature when you felt Satoru touching you, feeling you and tasting you from the inside and out.

His warm hands firmly gripped your thighs to lap at the soft peak in between. All the sensations his tongue was providing you made your vision turn black and your body heated up to the point of burning. The broad daylight and your exposed form added to the fear of being found out but your trust in your boyfriend outweighed everything so you let him have his way.

“ Hmmm, yeah y/n…”, the exaggeratingly loud slurping of his mouth came to a stop as he looked up at you, his pink lips glistening even more when he spoke, “Even this cheap stuff tastes better when I eat it directly from you”.

You were a panting mess, already having lost the ability to make coherent words you kept you eyes on Satoru as rose to his feet.

“ Let’s move on to the next part shall we?”, after smoothening out your skirt of you he held out his hand and your need for release took over all rhyme and reason so you put one of your shaking hand in his. The next few moments were confusing as a white light enveloped both of your forms and by the time your vision returned you found yourself in an unknown room.

The place itself was nothing out of the ordinary, some books, a cupboard and a vanity. The single bed near the curtained window was properly made. It was clearly not Satoru’s room but the neatness of the place also suggested that it wasn’t an unused room either.

“ Hey we’re are we?”, you question the white haired male when he casually made his way to switch on the lights.

“Don’t worry we’re still in the academy premises, you wanted to finish this right? And I didn’t wanted to go another second with hearing your pretty voice, so you can scream now,” his voice dangerously low, he held your arms in both of his hands and guided you to the single bed in the corner.

“ and I didn’t meant that as a request”, flat on your back you had no time for further questioning as your exposed cunt got filled to the brim in a single thrust. The stretch made you cry out and remembering Satoru’s previous warning you didn’t bother covering your mouth. The light in the room was enough for him to see all of you, even if he had all of you memorized at the back of since the first time.

Your twisted face that you’d consider ugly was nothing if not arousing to him from the kneeling position of his at the edge of the bed, endearing even at how the side of your eyes well up everytime he fucked you so hard, the creaking of the bed acted as a proof of his brutal pace that threatened to break the furniture.

Each powerful thrust of his made your entire body lurch from its position, your juices flowed endlessly down your thighs, on Satoru’s cock and down to the sheets. Your voice ricocheted off the walls and gave life to the entire building.

Having your orgasm cut off before, the anticipation that had build up made your upcoming release feel even ore intense. Your walls started clenching around his shaft, already feeling waves of ecstasy you waited for it to reach its peak.

“ Y/n...Come for me”, in between his grunts he placed on of his hand on the side of your head, lowering himself till your noses touched. Breaths intermingling, you came with a loud cry of his name. Euphoria spreaded through both of your bodies making a gush of liquid come out of your pussy when Satoru pulled out, both of your mess soiled the sheet.

Few minutes of silence passed by as a fully clothed Satoru sat beside you, stroking your head until you calmed down.

“ Hey y/n?”, abruptly his cheeky tone filled the room and you looked up at him questioningly,

“ Wanna take a pic? ya'know, as a momento”, the odd question made you come to an obvious conclusion, which now seemed obvious considering your boyfriend’s not so secret rebellious nature and with how much of a brat he can be it was nothing short of hilarious.

“ It’s Lisa’s room isn’t it?”, barely controlling your laughter you tried to pry an answer out of him, the soothing motion of his hands never coming to a stop he took out his phone with another.

“ Yeah, it is, I’d say it’s an excellent way of showing her our ‘bond’ dontcha think?”, his cringey answer made you burst into laughter. The first real smile he’d seen on your face since you got here was something Satoru wanted to be a constant thing, always there when he wanted to see it just like a still photograph.

Bending his face down his lips softly met your forehead and before you could open your eyes back up you heard the click of the camera go off.

“ Heh, so how is it?”, propping yourself up on your elbows you tried to peak at the screen but it was pulled out of sight just as quickly.

“ It’s perfect”, with a warm smile that reached all the way to his eyes Satoru put his phone down before peering into your eyes, “and it’s mine”.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jujutsu kaisen smut #smut #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #gojou satoru x reader #gojou satoru #jjk oneshot #jujutsu kaisen scenario #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo smut #my writing

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zeldas-cigarrette · 3 years

Text

Jealousy. (request)

I was wondering if I could send in a request for a Farah Dowling x female student( legal age of course) this is my first time requesting for her so it’s a bit cliche and simple but would you be able to do a fix where Farah gets jealous of the reader like someone flirts with the reader and Farah gets very riled up and is even cold but she softens at the sight of reader and there’s a lot of sexual and emotional tension and eventually there’s a confrontation and feelings come to light? ♥️

I hope you like it sweetheart:) And I am so so sorry for the long wait !! (It’s probably not quite what you wanted but I tried???)

for @suckerformadamsatan ✨

Alfea was a wonderful new opportunity for a new start and you integrated well in your first couple of months. It had been strange at first, you just found out that you’re a fairy and the next logical step was to bring you to Alfea. Though it was strange for a while, you adapted pretty quickly. Farah Dowling, the Headmistress, mesmerized you from the very beginning. Her whole presence radiated power and even though you thought that she wasn’t very fond of you, you were proven wrong one particular day.

The sun was swallowed by thick layers of grey clouds, which seemed to have a lot of water saved in them. It was almost certain that the whole otherworld; Solaria, wouldn’t have a dry spot in a few hours. You spent your break in the cafeteria, listening to Bloom, Terra and Aisha talk about some big stuff coming up. You were distracted by Farah, who was talking to Saul on the other side of the room. She looked beautiful, flawless. You wanted to get up and kiss her right in front of all the people. But it was inappropriate, highly. Also, she wouldn’t even feel the same and be embarrassed about the whole thing. What you didn’t know was that Farah did take a liking to you. She felt drawn to you and every time you were focusing on your magic in class, she couldn’t take her eyes off of you. It was a strange feeling in the woman’s gut, she had never dared to fall for a student. She swore to compose herself and be careful with her looks.

You fantasized about how her hand would feel on your hips, holding you close. It was top secret, though you always could tell Musa, you didn’t allow yourself to think about her when you spent time with your friend. As hard as it was, you managed to store your thought deep down in your brain, unable to read them for everyone around you.

The room was filled with a hint of thyme. Everybody seemed to be chatting or eating their lunch, so you felt safe to dedicate some of your thoughts to the woman in the corner. Farah’s hair was done up in a way you couldn’t quite wrap your mind around. „What do you think about it?” Aisha’s voice tore you out of your state. You had no clue what she was talking about, so you just stared at her with big eyes. „Y/n, did you even listen?” Terra asked, eating her last piece of potatoes on her plate. „No, I’m sorry could you repeat it maybe?”

„We were thinking about going to the party tonight and we were wondering if you’d join us,” the earth fairy energetically repeated and was expecting a yes. Since you weren’t really much of a party girl, you had to politely decline. Big crowds, loud music; never was your thing, never will be.

The bell rang and a bunch of people made their way to the classrooms. Bloom and Terra didn’t bother to move, while Aisha shoved pieces of apples in her mouth. A tap on your shoulder made you avert your gaze from the leaving students and made you focus on the person who wished for your attention. In front of you appeared a tall guy, brown curly hair. „Can I help you?” you raised an eyebrow. You had never seen him before. „I’m Brian,” he cleared his throat, „I watched you for some time.” His eyes widened when he realized what he’d just said, „I didn’t mean it that way, I just find you entrancing and I wanted to ask if you’d like to go to the party with me tonight.”

You gulped, you hated telling people off. You were sure what you wanted and what you didn’t but sometimes you failed to communicate it correctly. Moments of silence lingered in the air and you felt the stares of the girls on you. It was awkward, to say the least. „I’m sorry…” you forgot his name. „Brian,” he added seeing that his name wasn’t present in your head. „I’m sorry Brian but I don’t really like to party that much so,” you weren’t sure if that was convincing enough. He nodded. Since you wanted to escape this awkward tension as quickly as possible you got up from the chair, gathered your things, and were about to rush out of the cafeteria. Not even halfway through the door, you got held back by a hand on your wrist. It was him again. You internally rolled your eyes but kept a friendly face. „How about we just go for a walk then, in the moonlight?” his voice was soaked with sugar.

If you had been at a loss of words you could’ve stopped him from rambling on. „And I can pick you up at nine and we could also have dinner before.” Slightly, you shook your head before you found the right words, „I think you’re a good guy, but I’m just not into guys you know? So no, I don’t think I’d like to do this.” A sad expression spread on his face but he seemed to acknowledge it. The boy turned around and quickly walked away. It must’ve been awful for him, you thought to yourself. Still, you made your way out of the cafeteria to head for your next class. You saw the last few students in the hallway scurry to their rooms when a hand on your shoulder made you stop immediately. It has to be that Brian guy again.

—♡︎

Farah watched the whole thing happen from her position and she felt her blood boil from the scene that was offered. It took her a long time to figure out what was going on, every time the older fairy saw you; something in her stomach twirled (in a good way). Brian seemed to be persistent although she could see that you clearly didn’t enjoy his presence, Farah felt a hint of jealousy creeping up in her. She wanted to be the one asking you out, holding your hand. She let Saul talk without showing him a hint of interest. When she saw you rushing out of the room, the fairy saw an opportunity.

—♡︎

„God Brian, didn’t I tell you to leave me alone?” it was almost anger that filled your voice. As you turned around, you almost choked on your own saliva. Her features weren’t easy to read, you had no idea what she was thinking. The little wrinkles around her eyes were soon gone when she unclenched her jaw. „In my office!” It almost scared you, have you been that rude just now? Nonetheless, you followed her, looking down on your feet. Arriving at her office, the older fairy pulled you inside almost hectic if you hadn’t known better.

Farah had both of her arms braced on her hips, inspecting every little detail of you as if she had never done that before. „What have I done?” you asked shyly not knowing what trouble you now caused. „Actually…” Farah began and hesitated, „nothing?” It was remarkable that not even the headmistress knew what was going on. „So am I allowed to leave?” no doubt you enjoyed her presence but that was awkward. While waiting for an answer, you studied your surroundings. A huge wooden desk stood in the middle of the room, paperwork, pencils, and other things you couldn’t quite make out covered the top. The room was barely agleam, only a thin ray of sun threw a slight light in the room. A few lit scented candles took the job and made the room glow in a crimson-like shade.

„I have to confess something,” Farah’s voice sounded almost as if she was afraid. As if the whole situation wasn’t weird enough, she had to confess something…? Her eyes scanned you for approval before she just went on. The fairy turned around to now face the wall. „Well,” the woman drew in a long breath, „I was jealous?” It sounded like a question. „About what?” that was quicker than you had intended to. Her head quickly jolted in your direction. Silence between the two of you settled again. Realization hit just a couple of seconds after, it was about what happened with Brian. „He was flirting with you and I- I just…” she stuttered. Farah’s features softened when she saw the slight smile tugging on your lips. You walked over to her, thinking about if this was right twice, and took her hands in yours. A delicate smile graced her lips and that was when you knew it was mutual. Farah’s right hand went up to your face to cup your cheek, she pulled your face closer until her lips landed on yours. The kiss was in sync, it felt unreal; like heaven.

What you didn’t know was that Farah had spent nights thinking about you, thinking about what could go wrong. She had scolded herself for having those feelings for a student. At that moment every doubt was forgotten. She had lightly pushed you against her desk, letting her hands roam around on your body. Of all the times you stood close to her you never realized how heavenly she smelt, like a field of lavender.

—♡︎

It didn’t take long until the two of you became inseparable, you spent almost every minute with her (except when you had to be in class). You knew she could easily get jealous. Every time someone talked to you, she had this look on her face that made your heart skip a beat. She was so afraid of losing you to someone younger than her. The little „I love you.”’s before you went to sleep every night, they reassured her that you wouldn’t leave.

#sapphic #fanfiction #fanfic #farah dowling x reader #farah dowling #fate the winx saga #eve best #gay #love is love #wlw ship #wlw love #x reader imagines #fluff #angsty #middle aged actresses

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boop-le-snoot · 4 years

Text

PARTY FAVOURS I CHAPTER 24

first time reader click here

TWs/Summary: The party, finally. Nerds be nerds. They're all dorks tbh. Booze and partying. Clint is a disaster. Natasha is a queen. I beg for comments from y'all cuz I'm short on serotonin 🥺🥺🥺💚✨

This is a Spotify playlist I made for the first half of the party. Sets the mood 😌

The party was booming, the room was flooded with a large amount of people dressed in various extravagant outfits. It was enough to sweep my eyes over the crowd only once to take notice of the thought and money people had put into their outfits. I hardly noticed any cheesy "angel/devil" or "sexy cat" ensembles, my eyes caught on gemstones and feathers and floor-length gowns instead.

First Avenger to catch my eye was Thor - only because the people surrounding him barely held back from drooling. Hell, I did a spit-take: the usually graceless giant stood casually posted at one of the snack tables, wearing silver robes embroidered with tiny sparkling gemstones; a sleek, angular crown rested atop his head, his blonde hair was longer, lighter and straight. One look at his ears and the realisation struck me: Thor was Thranduil, the Elven king. It made sense since Peter had the thunderer hooked on the Lord of the Rings movies a couple of weeks ago...

Both Loki and Wanda cleaned up no less nicely. The Witch was wearing a midi dress, airy and soft, in pastel tones that brought out the natural rosiness of her cheeks and the scarlet undertones glimmering in the strands of her hair. Unlike me, she chose to wear a sparkling tiara, which Loki had created after a short debate - it was an intricate material illusion meant to last for at least ten hours.

Loki himself was a work of art: dark and macabre fantasy painting. I could barely tear my eyes away from the pale, tall man clad in dark green silks and brocade. The candlelight threw shadows on his angular face and his sharp cheekbones stood out more than ever: twenty minutes I spent on convincing him to let me put make-up on his face paid off spectacularly. Flickering lights toyed with the emeralds and forest greens of the shiny silk of his vest, giving Loki an ethereal glow. His eyes shone crimson red, making nearby people throw equally startled and appreciative looks.

As for myself, the stares I got were no more and no less than I expected. The dress I'd been aching to wear fit me perfectly, earthen tones, hand-embroidered blossoms and delicate golden threading. The layers of my skirt were just voluminous enough to give me the extra airy, floating walk, the medium-height platforms of my shoes lightening my step. The ropes securing them to my legs were decorated with flowers so delicate they looked real.

The peak of my outfit took an arm and a leg in bribery of the resident sorcerer-turned-vampire, but in the end, even Loki himself could hardly look away from his creation. An hour of research and some serious magic voodoo shit was what it took for the fluttering fairy wings to sit between my shoulder blades. I felt them as an extension of my own body, and whilst flying was definitely out of the question, I could flicker them and felt the delicate brush of Wanda's fingers as she admired the translucent, blue-green, marble-patterned sheen of pure, concentrated magic.

In hindsight, I should have simply bought a set of pre-made wings and asked Loki to enchant them to move on their own. Hindsight... I wasn't good at that. So, in this moment, with the wings syncing up with my jittery nerves, the shiny traitors shook with the force of stares directed at our little trio. There was an absurd amount of gorgeous people and breathtaking costumes, yet even then, we stood out like Mona Lisa in an indie art gallery. Muted 'woah's and 'oh-my-gods' traveled across the room, turning even more heads towards us.

"And you wanted to wear Walmart," I weakly chuckled in Wanda's direction, seeing her wide eyes and Loki's arm rapidly wrapping around her waist, catching her a brief moment before she stumbled. The trickster looked unimpressed and bored for all the world to see, but to me, the slight twitching of his eyebrow told me he wasn't feeling that much different from us girls either.

"Brother!" Thor gestured us over with a drink in each hand, parting the crowd of people easily.

Noah, et tu? I had no choice but to swallow my unease, hoping my concealer and highlighter did their job and my face hadn't lost the sublime glow I was aiming for. For a girl like me, the Fae aesthetic wasn't easily achieved: naturally, I wasn't innocent, I wasn't playful... However, I was mischievous. Plenty of that.

Spotting a semi-familiar face in the crowd of partygoers, I gave the man a lopsided grin and a wink without actually taking note of who he was. Tonight, I would be a fairy. I would play.

"King," Wanda mock-bowed with a laugh, carefully embracing Thor. Even Loki did a brief, composite left-handed tilt with a slight smirk.

"Where's the rest of the gang?" I giggled, immediately making grabby hands for the nearest brightly coloured, fruity concoction that fell into my eyesight. Being sober at a party was not something I had planned to be: first drink went down like water as Thor explained the whereabouts of our various friends.

"Steven and James are with Lady Natasha, there is a knife-throwing contest outside on the patio," As soon as those words left his mouth, Loki immediately perked up, not-so-subtly turning his torso towards the large open area.

"Go," I ushered him. "Win us something, good sir," With a chuckle of my own, I grabbed Wanda by the hand for both of us to give a chaste good luck kiss to each of Loki's cheeks. He smiled as I threw a tiny amount of sparkles at him, shouting "GOOD LUCK!" to his retreating back.

"Princess?" I heard a curious voice pipe up behind me, an arm carefully wrapping itself under my wings. Said arm jerked as the sensitive matter of my wings fluttered away from the touch, shivers running down my spine and making me shuffle in place awkwardly.

"Tickles," I breathed out, voice pitched.

Tony's utterly perplexed face came into view as he gave me an open-mouthed once-over. "Darling..." He cleared his throat. I had managed to rob Tony Stark of his words! "You look... Exquisite." His eyes critically surveyed the amount of make-up and glitter on my face before he lifted the inside of my wrist, touching his lips to the pulse point for two long seconds, stealing my breath away with the simple, intimate gesture. It was by far more powerful than having to get glitter out of his beard if he'd kissed me on the lips, or even on the cheek.

"Congratulations, you've caught a Fae," I grinned mischievously, my own eyes widening at the amount of tiny little details on Tony's costume. Delicate, moving clockwork gears and metals interwoven with dark brown, harsh leather; he wore a tophat decorated with a pair of glasses and both his arms and harnesses had moving details of polished, dull-grey chrome. It was unreal, like Tony had stepped out of a Steampunk graphic novel, like he'd just got done filming the Wild West movie. "Nerd," I affectionately brushed my fingers - glitter-free hand - along the handlebar mustache he'd grown out.

Tony spoke over Thor's laughter, pressing himself closer to me, this time careful around my wings. "Do I get to make a wish?"

"Don't be rude, Tony. The Fair Folk should be treated with politeness and respect," Bruce's amused voice signaled his arrival before I even saw him. His costume and Tony's complimented each other: whereas Tony the wngiy obviously was some sort of inventor, Bruce was a doctor, or perhaps, a chemist. Instead of moving gears, he had an array of brightly coloured vials attached to a gold-and-green embroidered belt, and a single monocle replaced his usual rectangular glasses. The scientist gallantly raised my palm to his lips, fighting a smile of his own. Utter nerds! "You're the most beautiful thing in this room, Princess. Everyone can't take their eyes off you," With that, a brief, bright flash of green blinked in his eyes and then I knew, Bruce and Hulk would be on my back, watching out for me wherever I would decide to go.

The knots in my back, in my stomach, slowly began to unwind, the feeling accelerated by the warmth of alcohol sitting low in my belly. I was happily sandwiched between my two men, chatting with Wanda and Thor, nibbling on the spooky treats that Tony's catering services had provided. They were delicious.

Sam appeared, dragging a flushed Clint in tow. The archer had evidently gotten well into his drinks, seeing as he was holding a horn in one hand whilst the other still barely held onto his head. Despite the costume fail, he seemed to be having the time of his life.

"We need glue," Sam announced, smiling in our direction. "Well, hello, ladies," Briefly, abandoning his bird bro, Sam kissed a giggling Wanda on the cheek and wrestled one of my hands from Tony to peck it, too. "My, my eyes have been so blessed!"

"What are you?" Wanda asked the man curiously, pointing at his... a sort of toga, brown leather shoes that looked more like hooves and a crown of... grapevine?

"Dionysus," Sam mock-bowed, "And this is my Pan. Who happens to be a lightweight and enjoys annoying witches that can throw knives with scary precision!" The man announced, annoyed, whilst Clint just drunkenly giggled as he was helped by Thor - the Asgardian-Elf was doing something to the archer's headdress and putting the wonky horn back in its place, hands steady despite Clint's swaying and squirming.

"Classy," I toasted Sam. "Who's the knife-throwing witch?"

"Natasha," He grabbed a drink of his own. "She went as Yennefer, both fossils are Witchers and Pietro is Jaskier. He looks like a proper court jester in that purple... Thing," The dark man was giggling, too, somewhat tipsy.

"The Ass of America could fit his sizeable rear end in leather pants? How much KY jelly did they use?" Tony snorted mockingly as all of us laughed. I remembered seeing an interview with Henry Cavill and his troubles regarding the leather pants - Tony's question was valid and you can fuckin' quote me on that.

"Man, don't ask me. I've already seen more than enough of him and Barnes in the supply closet," Sam winced, downing the remainder of his drink in one go.

"And what were you doing in the supply closet, Wilson?" Natasha was absolutely breathtaking in the black mesh dress. Pietro next to her looked like a masquerade attendee - in a good way. He had gone with the video game version of Jaskiers outfit and was a bright addition to or our mostly black and pastel coloured party.

Sam grumbled something unintelligible, striking a conversation with Pietro and Clint, pulling the rest of us into it one by one. People came by and went, saying their hellos and asking to take pictures - the party was attended by mostly SI and trusted SHIELD employees with the exception of a few B-level celebrities Tony knew personally, no press was allowed beyond their designated area so all of us could afford some degree of frivolity.

Steve and Bucky - oh my God their costumes were tight - shared kisses and heated glances over the tops of our heads. Bruce's hand snuck under the highest part of my skirt, caressing my legs and Tony's soft pecks on the top of my head filled me with the warmest sense of adoration. Loki, being the gentleman he was, had won both me and Wanda each a stuffed spider which we gracefully accepted, thanking the trickster with a dance.

Or three. Wanda went first, eyes sparkling and smile ten miles wide as she soaked up the admiration, the envious stares of the people in the room. The witch looked simply stunning, she was glowing, and Loki next to her shared the sentiment wholeheartedly - a small grin decorated his face, eyes kindest I'd ever seen them. In that moment, Wanda truly was a princess.

Three and a half drinks in, I swayed gently to the music, unbothered by the smile creeping on my face as I watched the two magical people dance and mingle. "You're as smooth as Tennessee whiskey..." Singing along was a pesky habit of mine that manifested itself after a certain amount of liquor circulated through my system. It wasn't like I was a bad singer - my parents had made me take music classes until I was sixteen - but it was generally an embarrassing moment nonetheless. In that moment, I didn't give a damn. "You're as sweet as strawberry wine..." Trust Tony to pick the kind of music I actually knew and liked.

A flash of purple and my glass was snatched out of my hand and promptly downed. Shamelessly grinning, Pietro gave me a look with that cocky tilt of his lips, blonde hair in utter disarray. "That your work?" He nodded towards the dancing couple, giving the empty glass to Bruce who was now watching my swaying with a careful eye.

"My and Loki's," I replied dryly."Thank you," Pietro replied sincerely. "Wanda needed this," Briefly looking me over (fuckin' glitter! I was missing out on so many hugs!), the blonde settled on squeezing my hand between his own. "May I steal your lady for a dance?" He addressed Bruce, seeing as Tony was immersed in a conversation with some dude dressed as Marty from Back to The Future. IT department, maybe?

"You may, but no funny business," Bruce looked godly in his outfit with the stern expression: eyebrows drawn together, lips pursed and irises having just a tinge of green. Hulk watching me added an unexpected sort of spice to our interactions. It made me feel...

"Let's go, Printsesa," Pietro unceremoniously dragged me to the dancefloor, all but stomping over other people's feet, shoes, tails and various other accessories. Boys will be boys... And we danced, and we laughed - until Loki and Wanda floated over to us, promptly swapping partners with fluidity I didn't expect from either of the twins. I watched Pietro spin Wanda with a smile as the Witch shrieked and cursed at her overenthusiastic brother.

"How's it going, Lokes?" I addressed the resident vampire, placing an arm on his shoulders. Tall ass bastard.

"Better than I expected," He admitted. "Although I cannot say I appreciate intoxicated Midgardian males."

"Nobody likes drunk dudes," I rolled my eyes. "I've lost count how many faces I've punched and balls busted at parties. They just don't learn."

"Oh, indeed, you're a fighter, little one. How could have I forgotten?" Loki teased me, doing an elaborate twirl to narrowly avoid the slap I was aiming at his chest. Tall, cheeky bastard.

I definitely should have put salt in his tea sugar.

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is0gild · 4 years

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Ice Cream and Fire Oven Pizza - Chapter 17

Pairing: Elsa x Lea/Axel || Side Pairing: Riku x OC

Summary: Modern AU. She's an introvert ball of nerves who works at Ice Palace, a mall food court ice cream shop. He's the outgoing, sassy goofball who works at the Pizza Planet across the way. Hilarity, snark, and fluffy romcom hijinks ensue.

Word Count: 12,131

FIRST CHAPTER || PREVIOUS CHAPTER || NEXT CHAPTER

Credit for super friggin’ cute and super friggin’ amazing cover art goes to the super friggin’ talented ky-jane here on tumblr!

Day three of Operation Boyfriend But Shh Not Really and so far, so good.

Though the thought of this triple date had my inner recluse curling up into the fetal position, I'd manage to convince myself it actually was a good thing when you really thought about it. One, it gave me more practice for trying to do this whole couply… thing I was trying to do. More practice meant I'd eventually, hopefully be more comfortable with it all, as well as less chance for screw-ups in front of my parents when the dreaded but inevitable weekend with them at last came. Two, we were trying to maintain this image of being boyfriend and girlfriend in front of everyone else at the mall. And boyfriends and girlfriends went on dates. What better way to be seen going on said dates than by going out with other actual couples? And three, we couldn't forget about the person the Duke had hired to tail Anna originally and could quite possibly still be keeping tabs on me now. If they were still out there lurking, it was important that they, even more so than anyone else,see me dating.

It was still kind of weird to think about - that an actual, real life PI or whatever had been surveilling me constantly for who knows how long and I'd had no idea. It felt so surreal. Unreal even. But the Duke was absolutely that crazy and I wouldn't put it past him to still have someone keeping an eye on me, looking for any cracks in the story, any slip-ups or mistakes. I'd have to start paying attention more when I was out and about, see if I could figure out who it was, spot any faces that seemed to always show up everywhere I went.

But then, even if I did identify a likely culprit, I would have absolutely no idea what to do with that information once I had it. Even if I marched right up to them and told them their cover had been blown so they may as well scram, the Duke was just insane enough and rich enough to keep hiring new people to do the job instead.

...jeez, I was really starting to sound paranoid now, wasn't I?

With my luck, it'd turn out the Duke no longer had anyone following me after he'd confronted me in the food court.

Best not to think about it too much, because honestly? It'd get me nowhere.

Sighing, I banished the thoughts from my head as I watched the buildings blur past my window from the backseat of Riku's silver Ford Focus. The three of us were on our way to the restaurant now and Lea, Kairi and Sora were going to meet us there. My hand anxiously smoothed out the creases of my outfit - a dark magenta sheath dress with long sleeves and a hemline at the knees. It had a tastefully low v-neckline and a double layered skirt, the top layer made of a shimmering gossamer material. Nice, but nothing too fancy for our "nothing too fancy" date, to use Kairi's words.

Per Lea's request, I'd also worn his leather jacket. It made sense, after all. Nothing screamed "dating" more than one half of a couple wearing their other half's clothes, so it certainly helped maintain the facade. His boy scent still lingered on it, even though he hadn't worn it in a couple of days now, given it had been in my possession. The smell was somehow both soothing and butterflies-in-the-stomach inducing at the same time. It was an odd mix of emotions, to say the least.

I felt a buzz in the jacket's pocket. Pulling out my phone (gosh, it was so weird having one again after going so many weeks without) I checked my notifications to discover I'd received a text.

Well, speak of the devil.

Still cant believe u didnt lemme come pick u up

Shaking my head with a small snort, I tapped out a reply to Lea.

It just made the most logical sense for me to ride with Riku and Rayne since we were all coming from the same place.

Rayne suddenly cried out happily, drawing my attention to her as she clapped and bounced in the front passenger seat. "Ahh, I'm still just so excited for date night! Good food, great company, hot hubby," she slyly pinched Riku's cheek, which he endured with dignity as he drove. "What more could a girl ask for?"

He chuckled as he shifted the car over into the turn lane. "You make it sound like I never take you out."

"You know that's not what I mean!" she playfully smacked his shoulder. "But with the baby on the way, I don't know how many more of these I'll have! This is one of my last chances to enjoy freedom! Jesus take the fucking wheel, hallelujah!"

I felt my phone vibrate in my hand again and I looked down at it.

I know not this logic u spk of

I felt a tiny smile pulling at my mouth as my thumbs typed.

Don't worry about it. Tis beyond your mortal ken.

"I just hope no one's drinking tonight," Riku snerked as I watched those three dots bounce at the bottom of my screen. "Don't need you dancing on any more tables, thank you very much."

"Your face dances on tables!" Rayne shot back, sticking her tongue out at him.

"That doesn't even make any sense."

"You don't even make any sense!"

Rude. Ill have u know I had half a mind 2 drive ovr n get u NEway, logic b damned

My smile turned a touch wicked.

I'm impressed. That's half a mind more than you usually have.

"Here we are!"

My head shot up as I heard the engine shut down. I hadn't even realized we were in a parking lot. I hadn't even realized the vehicle had stopped moving.

As I looked out my window again, I heard Rayne saying, "Have I mentioned how happy I am we're doing this?"

"You may have said something about that once or twice." I could hear the smile in Riku's low voice.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see her leaning over towards him, her hand coming up to run slender fingers through his long, ashen strands. "Yeah, but maybe I should show you."

"Maybe you should…"

And that's when I, being the absolute clueless, blissfully naive little fool that I was, chose to turn and fully look at them, just in time to get a front row seat to their little game of tonsil hockey. I blushed, threw up a hand to block my line of sight and made a tiny noise of disgust in my throat. "Ugh! You know you're not the only people in the car, right?"

Rayne pulled away to smirk back at me. "Well, other people can shoo," she flicked a dismissive hand in my direction before grabbing Riku by his collar and yanking him over for a deeper, more passionate kiss. Ding, ding, round two!

Squeaking, I fumbled with my seatbelt until I heard the click release, threw my car door open, stumbled out and slammed it shut behind me with a huff.

Oi, that was the main drawback to this group date plan. We were going to be around actual couples, and actual couples actually, ahem… snogged. Rayne and Riku were going to be bad enough, but let's not forget Sora and Kairi were along for the ride too and I'd seen firsthand how gross those two could be as well. Mark my word, this night was going to have more than its fair share of uncomfortable moments with those four around, being all besotted and smitten and other such rot. But I would survive this and make it through to the other side. Somehow.

Sweeping my braid forward over one shoulder, I glanced up at the building before me now. It bore a colorful banner over its entrance that read Fuente Del Oro. A local, family-owned Mexican restaurant, or so Rayne had told me. I could already tell this was going to be a very different experience from the types of restaurants my ex used to take me to for our dates. Those restaurants had all been about the look, the prestige… you didn't go to any of those places for the food, you went there to be seen, to give off an air of importance. Those places were… dull. Lifeless. This place before me now, on the other hand, was… nice. Colorful. Vibrant and full of character. Not elegant or frilly, but warm and inviting. And the aromas that I could smell coming from it, even all the way out here? Delicious.

I was actually kind of looking forward to this.

Phone still in my grasp, I looked back down at it and frowned.

No message back from Lea yet.

A giggle suddenly echoed out across the parking lot and my eyes snapped towards the source. It didn't take long to spot Kairi a few vehicles over, squirming and laughing in Sora's arms as he hugged her from behind, blowing raspberries against her neck. They were standing with a very familiar redhead who was leaning against a very familiar black muscle car. Said redhead had pulled his hair back into a ponytail again and was dressed in a snug, black tee with a second shirt on underneath, red and black horizontal stripes running down its full-length sleeves. His slim, dark jeans made his already long legs seem even longer and he was sporting his bright red Converse. He had his phone in hand in front of him, but it wasn't the phone he was looking at. Our eyes met and a grin tugged at one corner of his lips.

Suddenly, whatever boldness that I had felt behind the safety of text on the tiny, glowing screen in the palm of my hand had abandoned me and I felt a small pang of anxiety pierce my chest.

But I rallied.

Alright, Elsa, pep talk time. You can do this. You've been mentally and emotionally preparing for this since yesterday. Let him throw at you whatever fluffy, sappy moves he decides to today, all in the name of pretending to be your boyfriend. You can take it.

Shields raised and at full power, captain!

Inhaling and exhaling slowly, I pocketed my mobile and started making my way over to those three. Probably hearing my footsteps against the asphalt, Kairi and Sora looked over at me as I approached and greeted me with waves. I gave them a shy smile and returned the wave as Lea held his phone up, turning the screen towards me and showing the last message I'd sent him as he tsked, "Brutal. You wound me, madame."

I stopped a few feet away from him, my smile twitching wider. "You like it."

"True. What can I say, I've always been a bit of a masochist," he hummed a low chuckle, slipping his phone into the back pocket of his pants. His head tipped to one side and he stared at me for another second, then his eyes crinkled as he stretched a hand out towards me with a soft, "C'mere."

I bit my bottom lip, hesitating for a heartbeat before moving another step forward to take his offered hand.

"Lookit you," he whistled, closing his fingers around mine and leading me into a little twirl. "Digging the look." He then gently pulled me against him, drawing my arms up to hug his neck before slipping his hands beneath the jacket to wrap around my waist, enveloping me in his cinnamon scent. "Didn't get a chance to say it the other day, but my jacket suits you."

I rolled my eyes up at him, doing my best to be impervious to our sudden closeness. I wasn't succeeding. "Not really. It's too big."

"Yes really," he insisted, bowing his head slightly towards mine. "It looks way better on you than it ever did on me."

"Where's Riku and Rayne?" Sora interjected and I turned my head to look at him.

"They-" my words tripped over my tongue as Lea pressed a tender kiss to my temple.

Critical hit, captain! Shields down to thirty percent, but holding!

Ignoring the heat rushing to my face, I did my best to regather my scattered thoughts. "They, uh… they're back in the, uh… the…" Drat, what was the word again? "...car! They're back in the… the car."

Sora pulled a face. "Swapping spit, no doubt."

"Oh-ho, we'll see about that! C'mon, Sora!" Kairi cackled with an evil gleam in her eye, slipping free of her boyfriend's hold to instead grab his hand and pull him behind her as she ran off towards Riku's car.

"Seriously," Lea spoke up again, his voice hushed as I slowly returned my gaze to his. "Pretty sure I've lost all claim to that jacket. It belongs to you now."

My eyelids drooped. "That's not how that works."

"Sure it is." He rested his forehead against mine and I could feel his thumb rubbing light circles against the fabric of my dress just above my hip. "You don't choose a leather jacket, it chooses you. And trust me, that one has definitely picked you over me."

I gave a soft snort. "I'm giving it back to you after tonight."

"Don't you dare," he chided, his breath warming my lips. "You'll hurt the jacket's feelings."

"Stop anthropomorphizing the jacket." I was fighting a smile now.

"Make me," he murmured, something in his voice causing my insides to do that whole warm, fuzzy, squishy thing.

And the academy award for best leading actor in the role of Elsa's boyfriend goes to this guy right here.

But had to say, I thought he might be overdoing it a bit. I mean, Sora and Kairi weren't even around anymore to hear any of this. And if we were being monitored by someone under my great uncle's payroll, they certainly couldn't hear it either. I suppose Lea just… really liked getting into character?

Clearing my throat, I unclasped my hands from behind his neck and shifted them down to his chest in an attempt to push myself free of his grasp as I whispered, "We, ah… should probably go speak to the hostess now."

However, his hold on me didn't loosen, his arms remaining firmly secured around my waist. He didn't say anything, just continued to grin down at me. His eyes became hooded as they flicked down to my lips now, making my heart skip a beat.

What was he-?

A sudden loud yelp ruptured the air around us.

Rayne.

Followed by an annoyed yell of, "Goddamnit, Sora! Kairi!"

And that would be Riku.

The two delinquents in question blurred past us and towards the restaurant's front doors, whooping and snickering and razzing their tongues back at their victims climbing out of the Ford Focus. "We'll grab us a table!" Sora called quickly at the same time Kairi shouted, "See ya inside!" Then they both disappeared through the entrance with Rayne and Riku hot on their heels.

I heard Lea sigh. Or maybe he didn't. It was so soft that it was fully possible that I imagined it. Then he released me, slipping one hand into mine and jerking a thumb towards the restaurant with a lopsided smile, "Shall we?"

I stared at him, feeling the night air cool my warmed face. Then I gave a tentative nod and let him lead me inside.

The others hadn't made it far past the doors and we stepped in to find Riku doling out Sora's punishment: death by a thousand noogies. Sora was smacking his cousin's arm and trying to wriggle free, but to no avail. Apparently Kairi had gotten off with only a warning for she was standing off to one side with Rayne, both cracking up as they watched the boys. I looked past them, taking in the restaurant. Strings of fairy lights hung from the ceiling intermixed with strings of multi-colored papers, each bearing cutouts depicting various imagery. The walls were painted with murals of fantastical, mythical creatures of various shapes and sizes with wings and prismatic fur, feathers and scales. This place was absolutely beautiful.

Once the roughhousing had finally settled down, we all approached the hostess, an extremely tiny, extremely old lady wearing a name tag that read Coco who seemed far more interested in napping than greeting new customers. However, she woke up long enough to squint at her list and find our reservation before calling over a man to seat us. He led us through the restaurant and to a large booth in one of the back corners, leaving menus, chips and salsa on the table before flashing us a warm, genuine smile and saying he'd be back to take our orders in a minute.

I started shrugging out of the jacket, feeling Lea assist me before folding it over his arm and gesturing towards the booth with bow and a, "Lady's first." Smiling at him, I took a seat and scooched towards the middle. Lea wasn't too far behind, sitting close enough for our knees to bump against one another. He tossed the jacket on the back shelf of the booth before draping his arm across the top of the cushioned seat behind my head. Rayne took the spot to my left with Riku of course beside her, and on the other side of Lea sat Kairi and Sora. The waiter came back after giving us a little time to peruse the menus and he gathered our food requests before dashing off again.

"So Ray," Kairi piped up, popping a heavily salsa-laden chip into her mouth, "how's the preggers-life treating you?"

"Really well," she nodded contentedly, one hand going to her tummy. "The jellybean's happy and healthy so far and I've just started barely showing in the past couple weeks. No weird food cravings yet, thank god, but those are supposed to be right around the corner."

Sora leaned forward, propping his chin in both hands and beamed, "Do we know yet if I have a lil nephew or niece on the way?"

"We're cousins, Sora. Nephews and nieces would only be if we were brothers," Riku corrected with a wry curve to his lips.

"We don't know yet," Rayne shook her head, "but I'm about four months along now, so hoping to find out at our next appointment."

Lea had shifted his hand to dangle down so he could idly twiddle my braid between his fingers. I could also sense his gaze on me, causing a bit of a flutter in the pit of my stomach. Reminding myself he was just playing a part and it wasn't real, I resisted the urge to squirm and instead pretended not to notice, directing all my focus into reaching for a chip to dip into the salsa.

"Well whatever the wee monkey turns out to be, you can bet Auntie Kairi and Unkie Sora will be here to shower it with all the love and kisses!" Kairi cooed.

Riku twitched and frowned. "I just said that isn't how it-"

"Shush, hon, they're just teasing you now," Rayne poked his cheek with a laugh before looking back over at Kairi. "And you? How's the new gig over at Mickey's going? You've been there, what? About a week now?"

"Mm-hm! It's been a lot of fun working the jewelry counter. Oh sure, there's the occasional asshole customer, but turns out I'm really good at killing them with kindness."

Riku kicked Sora's foot under the table, "What about you, ya freeloader? Any prospects yet?"

He shrugged with that big smile he seemed to always have permanently glued to his face. Just looking at it was starting to make my cheeks hurt. "Couple of interviews coming up, so we'll see!"

Smirking, Riku said, "Can't wait to hear how you screw them up this time, knucklehead."

"Hey!"

Kairi turned to look our direction now. "So what's new and exciting with you two, hm? Lea, you just had that big test, right?" Silence was her answer as I went for another chip. "Lea? Hello, earth to... ah-ha, there!" She rocketed up to her feet, slamming one hand down on the table and pointing the other right in Lea's face. "Lost puppy look!"

"Hm, what now?" he jolted, his hand jerking away from my braid to lay across the booth backrest once more. "Lost pup-? Bah, I told you already, there's no lost puppy look. You need to get your eyes checked, princess."

She scoffed, plopping heavily back down into her seat and smugly take a sip of her soda. "Please. You were bad at hiding it when you guys were dating in secret, and you're even worse at it now that it's all out in the open."

"What's the deal there anyhow?" Sora cocked his head at me. "There's all sorts of wild rumors flying around the mall, like that you're runaway royalty from some far off country just living off the lam now."

"What?!" I blanched, gawking in disbelief. Doing my best to recover with a tiny, awkward laugh, I hastily said, "No, nothing quite so, ah… dramatic. My parents, they're… well off, to be sure, but certainly not royalty. And not from so far away either. Just Arendelle, which is only about an hour north of here."

Chewing on her straw, Kairi eagerly leaned in closer, "I'd love to hear the story of how you two met!"

I stiffened.

Fudge.

Welp, add that to my ever growing list of things I should have thought about in advance but failed miserably to do so. I fiddled a chip between my fingers as I tucked in my bottom lip. Shoot, what was I supposed to tell her? It's not like I'd gotten any better at lying in the past few days since my visit with Father. In fact, I'd been mostly skirting by since then by dodging questions and letting people fill in the blanks for themselves so I didn't have to. Heart thudding in my chest, I opened my mouth, not quite fully sure yet what was going to come out.

"Last summer," Lea was quicker. "In another city."

"Oh, during that big cross-country road trip you took?" Rayne asked him as she leaned into her husband who slung an arm around her shoulders.

Lea tapped his own nose, "That'd be the one, Raindrop."

Kairi gasped, "You two met in a foreign city? How romantic! That's the dream!"

"You have to leave the country in order for it to be a foreign city," Riku shook his head.

"Cram it, you knew what I meant!"

"It was like one of those scenes straight outta a movie," Lea planted an elbow on the table, rubbing a curled finger over his smirk as he watched me out of the corner of his eye. "There I was, just strolling along minding my own business, smack dab in the middle of a jam-packed city street. But then the crowd parted and there she stood. The most gorgeous creature to ever walk the face of this or any other planet in all the cosmos."

Cue my face turning all new shades of red never before witnessed in the history of human eyesight.

Jeez, laying it on a bit thick there, Lea, don't you think?

"So whatdja do?" Kairi pressed, eyes bright and on the edge of her seat. "Sweep her off her feet right then and there?"

He snerked, "Shit no, I walked headfirst into a lamppost."

I smothered a grin behind my hand as the rest of the table erupted into laughter. Sora reached over to punch him lightly in the arm, "Smooth, ya stud. What city was this anyway?"

"Corona," I was the one to answer, surprising myself. Suddenly self-conscious with all eyes turning to me, I quietly added, "I was there for part of my vacation last year."

"By yourself?" Rayne quirked a dubious eyebrow at me. She knew this story was as made-up as my current relationship status was. I could only assume she was trying to poke holes in order to help us solidify this little tale that was being spun so we'd be more prepared for the next time we had to tell the lie.

The thing is, the best lies have a grain of truth to them. I really had been in Corona last summer. "No, I was taking the trip with Anna. We were actually staying over in Traverse Town, but had planned to visit Corona for the day to enjoy a festival there, since it was only a short train ride away. However, Anna disappeared with a guy before we could go. I'd really been looking forward to this festival though and didn't want to miss it, so I took the train over on my own."

"Wait," Kairi slapped both hands down in front of her, eyes widening. "Are you talking about that big lantern festival they do every year?" At my nod, she squealed. "Lucky! Punzie has shown me pictures in magazines, it looks so goddamn pretty! Oh man, I've always wanted to go! Hint, hint," she shouldered Sora, who just chuckled and scratched the back of his head.

"It was actually right as they were launching the lanterns that I saw her," Lea said, folding his arms atop the table now. "She was wearing this cute sundress. White with a lil diamond patterned hem. Split sleeves that were all flowy. Hair down and dancing in the slight breeze." Wow, he was really selling this. He'd even nailed that whole far away look in his eye, like he was seeing something the rest of us couldn't. "And the way those lanterns lit up her smile as she watched them float up, I knew my lowly mortal self was in the presence of a goddess. Knocked the wind right outta me."

"As did that lamppost," Rayne sniggered.

"As did that lamppost," he agreed with a chuckle.

Totally enthralled now, Kairi breathed, "So what happened next?"

"Yeah, what did happen next?" I grinned over at him, the barest note of a challenge to my tone. To the others, it probably just sounded like I was teasing him since obviously I was already supposed to know this story. But now I was almost as invested as Kairi and was genuinely curious where he'd go with it next.

The corners of his eyes crinkled as he looked over at me and he leaned back, propping his elbows up on the back rim of the booth and once more slipping an arm behind my head. "Well after the lantern bit was over, I watched her get onto her train heading back to Traverse Town. So I did what any self-respecting, red-blooded, utterly bewitched male would do: I followed her."

"Stalker," Riku singsonged.

His wife smacked his leg, "Hush, it's sweet!"

He snorted, eyelids drooping, "Yeah, so sweet, the dumbass left his car behind in Corona."

"Psssh, I just took the train back for it later," Lea brushed off. "Anyway, when I found her on board, I sat across from her and worked up the nerve to strike up a conversation."

Rayne looked at me. "You? Talk to a handsome stranger on a train?" She squinted, repeating for emphasis, "You?"

"Heh… what can I say? He can be very charming," I smiled down at my drink, swirling the ice with my straw.

"Even with all of my roguish charm and devilish good looks though, it wasn't easy," Lea laughed. His hand had drifted down to start toying with my braid again. "But she warmed up to me eventually. By the time we arrived at Traverse Town, I was completely smitten. A total goner. She still needed more convincing though, so I managed to persuade her into joining me for a night out on the town. Luckily for me, Traverse Town has a very active night life that goes on for hours long after most other cities have gone to sleep."

"Yeah? Like what?" Sora burbled out around a mouth full of chips, making Kairi giggle as she put a hand over his face to hide it.

He pursed his lips to one side, looking up at the ceiling, "Oh, nothing too exciting. Few odds and ends here and there though… wandering around a record store… a café with a palm reader… a street poet at one sidewalk corner, a belly dancer at another, some stargazing in a park…" Now he smirked over at me, "A carnival with a kiss at the top of the ferris wheel."

A mock gasp from Rayne, "Scandal! And you with a fiancé, young lady!"

I looked away, suddenly feeling guilty and flustered over something that hadn't even really happened. "...ferris wheels can be very enchanting."

And my streak of helping the lie along while not actually lying myself successfully continues!

"And then, and then?" Kairi insisted impatiently, just eating this whole bit of fiction right up.

He chuckled and shrugged, "Just mostly a lot of meandering the streets and talking. We were out all night and watched the sunrise together. Eventually, she had to go meet up with her sister so they could move on to another city for the next leg of their lil vay-kay. But I didn't let her leave without agreeing to meet with me again in a few months."

Kairi was slackjaw now as she whispered, "And did she?"

"Mm-hm!" he hummed happily. "And from there, we kept meeting up, our little get-togethers getting longer and more frequent over time."

"Then what?" She was relentless.

A wolfish curl tugged at one side of his mouth. "What else? I slowly seduced her until she fell helpless into my bed, hungry for the pleasure only I could give her," he waggled his eyebrows.

Of course I'd chosen that exact second to be taking a sip of my drink. And of course I promptly spluttered and choked on it. "Excuse me?" I coughed, laughing incredulously as I elbowed him in the gut.

He gave a pained grunt, but grinned and snagged my hand before I could retract it, pressing a kiss to my knuckles. "I mean that in the most gentlemanly and respectful way possible, of course," he winked at me before looking back over at Kairi. "From there, I convinced her to run away from her family and ditch her two-bit, loser fiancé to be with me. And the rest, as they say, is history!"

"Wow!" she sighed dreamily, slumping back and fanning herself. Then she blinked, "Wait…" A gasp. "Oh my god! You swore off dating about a year ago, which was last summer! Was it cuz that's when you two met and it was love at first sight?!"

"Huh. The two certainly seem to line up perfectly, don't they?" he chirped. He'd rested my hand back down onto the table, his on top of mine, threading our fingers together.

Our waiter popped up again just then. "Your food will be just another moment. In the meantime, please allow us to entertain you with some music." He then turned, clapped his hands twice and called out, "Miguel!"

Out charged a boy in his early teens wearing a red hoodie and lugging a guitar that was white, etched in swirly patterns, and nearly as big as he was. He flashed us a smile huge enough to rival one of Sora's and without further preamble, started strumming away and singing. The kid was actually really good too!

Kairi clapped in delight and Rayne cooed over how adorable he was. Sora gaped in awe at the boy's obvious talent while Riku just grinned, digging into the chips. As I watched him perform, I couldn't help but feel Lea's eyes on me once more instead of on our little musician. I shifted in my seat, slipping my hand free of his and bringing it up to tuck some bangs behind my ear, hiding the growing warmth I felt in my cheeks behind my fingers.

At this rate, I didn't know how I was going to survive fake dating this guy for the rest of the evening, let alone for two more weeks.

"Where do you think you're going?"

Lea's hand closed around mine, stopping me in my tracks. I glanced over my shoulder at him, then back towards where Rayne and Riku were climbing into their car across the parking lot. "With them?"

"Ahhhnt," he made a buzzer noise, grinning. "Wrong! Would the contestant care to venture another guess?"

I gave him some side-eye, feeling one corner of my lips turn up. "...with you?"

"Bingo!" He started walking towards his car, gently tugging me along with him. "I was already so rudely denied my god-given right as the boyfriend to pick you up from your place. No way am I missing out on giving you a lift over to the movie theater. Same goes for driving you back home later tonight, so better make your peace with it now. It's happening."

I felt my smile twitch a fraction wider as I fell into step beside him. "I suppose being my chauffeur is quite the honor and privilege. Wouldn't want to take that away from you."

"Glad that's settled then," he gave a chipper nod, unlocking the front passenger door of his vehicle and holding it open for me as I got in. As he then jogged over to the driver's side while I buckled in, there was a loud meep meep of a car horn and I looked up just as a hot pink Jeep blurred past where we were parked - Kairi and Sora, it seemed, going on to the cinema ahead of us. I waved at them just as Lea had settled in himself and started the engine.

"So," I began once we were on the road, resting my temple against my knuckles with my elbow propped on the window sill, still grinning as I watched him out of the corner of my eye, "you took a road trip last summer?"

He gave a low hum of confirmation, reaching over to turn down the volume on the rock oldies station coming through the radio. "Decided to have one last big adventure before I really buckled down and started taking school seriously. Did a lil soul searching, that whole shtick."

"Ah." My gaze focused on the road ahead once more and I hesitated for a second, gnawing on my lower lip. "...that was a nice story you told. About how we met."

Lea chuckled, leaving one hand on the wheel while moving the other to lay atop the headrest of my seat. "Liked it, didja?"

"Oh definitely." Now I hid my growing smile behind my hand, trying to keep a straight face. "Though I have to admit, I think I was a bigger fan of the original movie adaptation."

I watched him visibly stiffen. "The…?"

Tapping a curled finger to my chin, I muttered, "What was the title again? Before Sunrise, I believe?"

He snerked, then broke out into a full laugh. "Crap, ya caught me. Yeah, I may have borrowed from the plot there a tad."

"Just a bit," I shook my head at him. "You're lucky Sora and Kairi haven't seen the film."

"Kinda surprised you have," he turned the car down a road that would take us towards the mall. "Pretty sure it's older than you are."

"Nothing wrong with old movies," I shrugged before wrinkling my nose at him slightly with a tiny smile. "Kind of sappy though. Wouldn't have thought that'd be your kind of movie."

Looking my way, he smirked, "What can I say? I'm a sappy guy. And hey, at least I didn't steal everything from that flick."

"True. The stuff before the train was all you."

"You helped," Lea pointed out as he pulled up to a stop sign. He then tapped his index against the steering wheel a couple times. "...outta curiosity, why'd you say Corona? Out of all the other places you must of visited on your trip, what made you pick that city?"

As the car accelerated once more, I tilted my head in thought. "Don't know really… I guess I just felt it would be a nice place to meet someone new in. That'd it make for a good story." I paused, watching some tail lights streak past us. "...the lantern festival really was beautiful. Have you ever seen it?"

Lea shook his head as he glanced up at the rearview before shifting lanes, "Nah. Had plans to on the road trip, but something else came up."

"A shame," I sighed wistfully. "You missed out."

"Wouldn't say that," he murmured, a warm flicker in his eyes. "'Sides, there's always next time."

"Suppose that's true," I nodded. "Nice touch, by the way, describing the dress I was wearing. I think I might even own one that's pretty close to it." Don't think I'd been wearing it in Corona though. But I couldn't really remember. It had been over a year ago after all.

He laughed again, fingers combing his scalp before returning the hand to my seat, now on a spot next to my ear. "Well, I did help you pack your clothes from your old condo just a couple days ago. I probably saw it then."

"Good point." That made sense. It would have been too much of a coincidence if that'd actually been what I'd had on that day. But now… should I be worried that I hadn't really been in that dress? What if someone found out the mismatch in the story? No… no, that was just me overthinking things again. Even if the tale ever reached the ears of the Duke's goon, it's not like they could go back in time to fact check. "Just one more thing now." My eyes narrowed at him, at odds with my grin. "Might want to edit the ending a bit."

"Which part?" he asked a touch too innocently, already turning us into the Dusk Town Center parking lot. "Running away to be with me? Hasn't that been the story all along?"

I rolled my eyes at him. "Try a little before that."

Wouldn't have thought it possible to both purse one's lips and smile at the same time, but Lea proved me wrong in that moment. "Hmm… oh! Well, figured wooing you over the course of months sounded more believable, but if you think it works better as weeks or even days, then-"

"No no. Little after that."

"Well then, now you got me stumped cuz I know you just couldn't possibly be talking about the absolute masterpiece that was the slow seducing, helpless bed falling, pleasure hungry part."

A snort. "Why yes, actually, I could be talking about that and in fact am."

"But that's the best part!" he protested, turning to park in a space right next to a familiar Ford Focus. "It's the heart and soul, the very essence of the story! The pièce de résistance, the crowning glory."

With a good natured scoff, I unfastened my seatbelt as the car shuddered into powering down. "Well decrown it because you're dropping that bit."

He lifted his chin slightly and gave a dignified sniff, "I am a storyteller, El. An arteest. You wouldn't ask Leonardo da Vinci to remove the smile from the Mona Lisa."

Well someone had a high opinion of himself. Which honestly came as zero surprise. I fixed him with a dull stare. "Drop it or your jacket gets a giant, sticky stain before the night is out." And with that, I opened my door.

Lea scrambled out of the car and rushed over to join me on my side just as I slammed the door shut behind me. He had the decency to only spend a couple seconds looking mildly miffed at having been denied the opportunity to open and hold the car door for me before his frown melted into a smile once more. "Jeez, blackmail? Never thought you'd stoop so low. But eh," he shrugged, "jacket's black, it'll be fine."

"You're failing to see the big picture here," I crossed my arms as I waited for Rayne and Riku to get out of their own vehicle. My guess was they were probably going for another round of Seven Minutes in Heaven in there. Smirking at Lea, I elaborated, "Because then I'll wash it."

"Egads," he mocked gasp, splaying a hand against his chest, "the horror."

My smirk curled wickedly. "In a washing machine."

As my roomies finally vacated their car (faces flushed, I might add), Lea actually paled. "But it's dry clean only!"

"That's right," I said smugly and turned to walk away. "So nix that line or the jacket gets it."

"You fight dirty," he muttered as he caught up to me, slipping his hand into mine. However, he was grinning.

Huh. That wasn't what I'd been expecting. IE the face of a man who'd just suffered a crippling defeat by my hands.

I narrowed my eyes up at him. "You certainly seem pretty happy about the impending, inevitable demise of your jacket."

Now the grin was joined by a dimple as we walked. "Well, it's just that in order for you to make good on your threat, you have to take my jacket hostage. Meaning you're gonna hafta keep it after all." His head dipped down closer to mine as he swung our hands slightly. "I count that as a win for me."

...well crud.

Score one for Lea there.

Shrieks and giggles suddenly erupted behind us before Sora tore past us towards the mall's entrance with Kairi riding piggyback. Rayne laughed and tugged Riku into a stumble behind her so they could catch up while Lea and I continued to take our time, bringing up the rear.

We made our way through the food court and over to Cinema XIII. The manager with long, silver hair that I'd seen there last time was present again, off to one side where he was setting up a huge cardboard display for the latest Star Wars movie. I watched him scowl and fiddle with the lifesize lightsaber cutouts as our group purchased tickets from a blonde chick with a weird hairdo that kind of resembled antennae. As we'd approached, I could have sworn I'd seen her boredly cleaning her fingernails with a small knife, but there was no sign of the blade by the time we'd reached her register. Perhaps my eyes had just been playing tricks on me.

Tickets for our whodunit comedy flick in hand, we then moved over to concessions which was being worked by that same teen with the emo haircut that I'd also spotted here a couple weeks ago. He hardly glanced up from the book he was reading as Riku and Rayne ordered snacks and drinks from him, Sora waiting in line behind them with Kairi still latched onto his back.

"Alright, whatcha want? My treat," Lea asked as he watched the flat screens hanging behind the counter scroll flashy ads for crisp, buttery popcorn and fizzing, bubbly soda.

I blinked. "What?" Then I frowned at him. "Oh no, not happening. You already paid for dinner despite my multiple protests. I'm not letting you buy me candy too."

We were only fake dating after all, and I wouldn't even want to make a real boyfriend pay for everything!

"But it's my right as-"

I put my finger to his lips, silencing him as my eyelids drooped. "Enough with playing the boyfriend card already. You're having too much fun with that."

He puckered up and planted a tiny peck on my fingertip, sending a small jolt straight to my heart as I quickly jerked my hand back. He chuckled, "Just tell me what your fave candy is."

"Shouldn't you be able to guess?" I arched an eyebrow, stubbornly ignoring the way the tip of my finger still had a slight tingle. "Isn't that like your special gift or whatever?"

"Only with ice cream," he lightly corrected.

"Right," I crinkled my eyes at him. "How's that coming along again?"

His shoulders bobbed up and down. "It's a process."

"My turn!" Sora suddenly proclaimed loudly in front of us, dropping Kairi off his back and spinning around to get behind her.

His girlfriend gasped, "Sora no!"

"Sora yes!" he cackled, jumping onto her back, arms hugging her shoulders tight and legs wrapping around her waist as her hands automatically shifted to grasp beneath his knees. To her credit, she managed to stand for three whole shaky seconds before collapsing beneath her boyfriend's weight into a tangled heap on the floor with him.

Ah, to be young.

Never mind the fact that I was pretty sure I was only like a year older than them.

With a soft snort through my nose, I glanced back at Lea. "Well, while you keep processing, I'm going to go find our seats."

I turned to go, but he pulled me back with the hold he still had on my hand. "C'mon, just lemme buy ya something small," he insisted as he hopped over the Sora/Kairi knot that was still trying to disentangle itself, forcing me to gingerly step over the two of them as well.

Shaking my head with a sigh, I said, "Why won't you just let it go?"

He beamed. "Cuz what schmoopsie-poo wants, schmoopsie-poo gets."

Oh no he didn't.

"Uh-uh, no. Veto. You are not calling me that," I jabbed a finger into his chest.

There was a sly gleam to his eye. "Tell me what candy you want or I won't stop."

"You wouldn't dare."

"Wanna bet?" he flashed a toothy grin as we stepped up to the counter now that my roommates had stepped off to one side, already munching away at their newly purchased sweets. "You'll think you died and went to schmoopsie-poo heaven."

I gave a small huff and looked away. "Small price to pay. Not budging on this."

"Fine. You've forced my hand." He turned his head to the concession worker, slapping his palm down on the countertop and proudly declaring, "I'll have one of everything, my good man!"

"What?! No, no, stop, he's joking," I hastily told the cashier, who froze mid-ringing the order up as he gave us a flat look with the one blue eye not hidden behind bangs. To Lea, I whispered, "What do you think you're doing?"

He shrugged, grin not faltering. "Figure ya gotta like at least one of 'em."

I stared at him. Then my shoulders slumped and I hung my head, grumbling, "...Junior Mints."

"You heard the lady," he chirped to the theatre employee. "And throw in a small popcorn and large Kupo-Kola too please!"

Once the junk food was acquired and paid for, we moved out of the way to join Riku and Rayne as Sora and Kairi bought their own goodies. While we were waiting, I opened up my candy and reached inside, retrieving a minty, chocolate-coated treat and popping it into my mouth.

"Can I have one?" Lea asked beside me.

I gave him a blank look. Then I glanced down at his hands, otherwise occupied with a full soda cup and a bag practically bursting with popcorn. Digging another Junior Mint out and holding it up between us, my gaze met his once more. "Say ahh."

Face brightening, his lips parted wide.

I inserted it into his nostril.

He blinked a couple times, then snorted which had the byproduct of dislodging the Junior Mint. "Okay, guess maybe I deserved that for being a lil pushy about getting you the candy."

"You most certainly did," I said matter-of-factly, eating another one. A pause while I slowly chewed before swallowing and mumbling, "...but thanks for doing it anyway."

"Heh. Don't mention it."

Kairi and Sora rejoined us then, arms piled high with sugary delights. Jeez, all that on top of the gigantic Mexican dinners they'd both devoured less than an hour ago? One had to wonder how the two of them managed to stay so skinny.

It didn't take long for us to locate our theater and when we entered, all the lights were dimmed for the trailers that had already started to play. We quietly found our seats close to the middle of the auditorium and we settled into them, Lea to the right of me and making up one end of our group while Rayne took up my other side, the rest of the gang to her right. It seemed the cinema had recently renovated with new, barely-used cushiony sofa seating, the kind that reclined.

As I pushed the button that popped out the chair's footrest and made myself more comfortable, I caught a glimpse of the others. Half way through a strand of red licorice, Rayne flinched when Riku was suddenly in her face and chomping down on the other end of the candy. Grinning, he took a few more bites, bringing their lips closer together until he could give her a smooch before pulling away, looking quite pleased with himself as she blushed and snerked, giving his shoulder a light shove. Kairi was tossing Milk Duds towards Sora's open, awaiting mouth and rewarding him with little kisses every time he successfully caught one.

Worrying my lower lip between my teeth, I glanced towards Lea out of the corner of my eye as he crunched away on some popcorn. Should we be acting all… couply right now? Like the others were? I mean, it was a dark theater… did we really need to keep the act up in here too? Would anyone really notice? Then again, I'd noticed our friends being all sickeningly cute and I hadn't even been trying to, my eyes had just wandered. So maybe it wasn't such a stretch to consider the two of us were also possibly being observed, even in here.

My gaze flicked down to the armrest I shared with Lea. It was wide enough for both our arms to lay on it side by side, elbows touching. He wasn't holding my hand at the moment, instead just resting his about an inch away from mine. Which, now that I noticed, actually felt a bit weird, oddly enough. I guess I was starting to get used to it. But perhaps I should look at this as an opportunity for some more practice. An exercise in me being the one for once to initiate a display of affection. I seriously couldn't get away with him being the one to start it all the time, right? Surely, I had to act like I liked him too.

Which, to be fair, I kind of did.

Even if it was a secret.

But now I had to wonder how does one go about, ah… what was the term? ...making a move? I'd never had to do it with my ex. I'd never particularly felt the urge, nor had he ever really encouraged me to have more initiative in that area. He'd always been the one to take charge and that seemed to be the way he'd liked it. It seemed to be what was expected of our relationship, by him, by my family, by the world of upper society that I had lived in for so long. But I was no longer in that world. Things were different here. I was different. And I needed to show that to my parents. And one way I could show that was by doing this.

So then… exactly how do I do this?

...well I suppose I could start by moving my hand in the general direction of his. Seemed simple enough… right?

Gulping and holding my breath, I slowly, oh so very slowly started reaching for his hand. As my fingers crept closer, the pounding in my ribcage grew louder and louder. A hairbreadth away from skin contact, I hesitated, what little courage I'd mustered already dwindling. But after a second, my face hardened. I needed to do this. For the sake of Operation Boyfriend But Shh Not Really. For the sake of a continued future free from my parents' control. With a newfound resolve burning in my chest, I pushed on.

My pinky barely brushed against his knuckle.

Nope! No way. Mm-mm, not happening!

I snatched my hand back, blushing furiously.

The blush of a failure. Pathetic.

However the touch, no matter how light and brief, hadn't gone unnoticed. Lea glanced my way, his head tipping slightly. Then he smiled, shifting his popcorn out of his lap over to his right while moving the soda from the cupholder between us to the one on his other side. Then he lifted the armrest separating us, folding it back between our chairs before slinging an arm around my shoulders and pulling me close so my head was pillowed by his chest.

I tensed for several seconds before relaxing against him, clearing my throat and, if possible, blushing even harder.

Well then.

Guess I no longer needed to worry about us not looking couply.

Even if I hadn't been the one to initiate.

...tomorrow. I would do a better job tomorrow.

As the last of the trailers ended and opening credits for the movie began filling the big screen, Lea ducked his head down next to mine. I could feel him grinning against my ear as he whispered, "This boyfriend model comes equipped with all the latest technology, including hilarious movie commentary. Would you like that feature enabled now?"

I leaned my head back a bit as I turned to look him in the eye. He cocked a playful eyebrow at me. Feeling one corner of my lips tug up, I whispered back, "Commentary on."

"You got it."

I was not disappointed.

"Is this really totally necessary?"

"Oh absolutely. Your uncle's spies could be anywhere, ever vigilant and watching at all times."

"Even here? In the parking lot for my own apartment?" I frowned dubiously.

I could feel him nodding against my hair. "Especially here. I'll have you know I've seen at least three cars pass us already, each one more suspicious and shady than the last."

Date night had been a rousing success, if I did say so myself. We'd had a good time with friends, dinner was amazing and delicious, and the movie had been excellent. But as everyone knows, all good dates (even the fake ones) must come to an end. And at the end of every date, some sort of goodnight ritual is often at the very least customary, if not absolutely essential. Traditionally, this usually takes the form of the infamous goodnight kiss. However, since I'd already taken any sort of liplock completely and one hundred percent off the table, Lea had instead opted for a hug.

One… extremely and uncomfortably long hug.

...okay, that was a lie. It wasn't uncomfortable at all. In fact, was actually quite nice. Pleasant, even. Ten out of ten, would recommend.

We stood next to his car at the moment, my apartment building just a few yards away. After he'd parked and we'd both climbed out, he'd pulled my arms up to wrap around his neck, his hands once again finding their way under the leather jacket to encircle my waist, hugging me close as he'd rested his cheek atop my head. And so we had remained for quite some time now.

Kairi and Sora were no longer with us, having parted ways back at the mall, but I could see Rayne and Riku off to one side near their own vehicle, enthusiastically taking part in some cuddle time themselves while they waited for me. Which actually I really appreciated. Without their added presence here, I'd probably be getting a lot more awkward a lot more quickly about The Hug That Would Not End.

That said…

"We've been at this for at least five minutes now. Wouldn't you call that a bit, er.." I shifted my feet, resisting the urge to squirm, "...excessive?"

His hold on me didn't budge. "Gotta be convincing. 'Sides, we're obviously still in the honeymoon period of our relationship. You know, when the couple takes forever and a day telling each other goodbye a thousand times before actually leaving. Otherwise known as the No-You-Hang-Up-First phase."

My brow furrowed. "I thought that was only made-up for TV. Real people don't actually do that, do they?"

"Yup," I felt another nod. "Trust me, I'm an expert. I know these things."

I squinted off into space. "...haven't you only ever done one night stands?"

"Shush, I said trust me on this," he murmured.

And shush I did. I suppose I could look at this as a sort of… endurance training? Get me more used to his hugs so I'd be less awkward about them in public? Make them seem more natural? Yeah, okay. This might be good for me. Let's see how long I could keep this up.

...answer? Not long.

Tentatively trying to pull away, I began, "Alright, maybe we should-"

"One more minute," he insisted, squeezing me tighter and shifting his head down now to instead nuzzle against my neck. His nose was cold and his breath tickled against my skin, making my cheeks warm. Welp, so much for not squirming.

Huh. He really seemed to be taking this whole pretend boyfriend thing very seriously. This was some extreme dedication to the role.

And there my insides went all over again, doing the whole warm, fuzzy, squishy thing. Alright, just breathe. Deep, calming breaths. Remember: Conceal, don't feel.

...maybe just focus on the concealing part. The not feeling part was already a lost cause.

"Ya know," Rayne's voice suddenly piped up nearby, causing me to jump, "maybe you two don't have to say goodnight just yet." Lea straightened up, loosening his grip on me just enough for us both to turn our heads to see she'd joined us. Gracing us with a sly smirk, she said, "I mean, if you want to really drive this date home for any eyes that might be prying, Lea could always, ya know..." her eyebrows bounced as she leaned in closer to whisper conspiratorially, "stay the night."

"What?!" My face erupted into blistering heat, the likes of which would've put the Sahara Desert to utter shame. "N...No! Absolutely not! How could you possibly even-"

She laughed, her finger booping my nose. "Relax, you silly goose. Of course he'd only sleep on the living room sofa! S'not like your grunkle's minion would have x-ray vision into our home."

Oh.

That's what she'd meant.

Well of course that's what she'd meant. It's not like she'd ever really suggest…

Actually, no, this was Rayne we were talking about here. I honestly wouldn't have put it past her.

She elbowed Lea in the arm, "So whaddya say, stud?"

He smiled, removing one hand from my waist to rub at the nape of his neck. "Well, I'd planned on getting some reading done for my classes tonight. But I do have my book bag in the backseat, so I suppose I could just as easily read here on your couch." His gaze shifted back down to mine, "That is of course, as long as you're okay with it!"

My face still recovering from its abrupt and devastating heatwave, I looked down and muttered, "Well, I… I suppose, ah… sure. Okay. I mean, just to keep up appearances… " My eyes flicked back up towards Rayne, "Thanks. I guess that's… actually a pretty good idea."

"Of course it is! I came up with it!" she beamed, planting her fists on her hips and puffing up her chest. Then she turned back to her husband, pressing her lips to his cheek as she linked her arm in his and led him over to the building entrance. Lea at last fully released me, but only long enough to unlock his car and pull out a messenger bag that looked heavy with textbooks. Kicking the door shut, he slung the strap of the bag over his head to hang across his chest before slipping an arm around my shoulders, grinning down at me as we followed the other two inside.

Once in our apartment, he removed the arm while Rayne pulled some spare pillows and bed sheets from the closet, tossing them onto the longest couch for Lea. Then grabbing a water bottle from the fridge, she unscrewed the cap and held her drink up high. "A toast! To Lea's sleepover! May it be the first of many!" she declared before tossing her head back to chug half the bottle.

Riku just snerked, shaking his head while Lea scratched his cheek with a weak chuckle and walked over to drop his bag on the sofa next to the blankets. I squeezed my eyes shut, pressing my fingers between my eyebrows with a soft sigh. Still, she had a point. I suppose it was only natural for my "boyfriend" to stay the night with some amount of frequency. Oh gosh, I hope this wouldn't be too much of an imposition on Lea.

As Rayne recapped the water bottle and put it down on the kitchen table, Riku stepped up to her, taking both her hands in his and pressing their foreheads together. "Hon, why don't we head to bed early tonight?" he asked, tone low and eyes hooded.

"Mmm," she breathed him in, smiling up at him through lowered lashes and nodding, "sounds good." As he pulled her towards their bedroom, Rayne glanced back at us. "Good night, you two! Don't do anything I wouldn't do!" she winked and waved before disappearing through the door, closing it behind her.

Silence followed. It felt strangely sudden and almost deafening.

I slowly turned to look at Lea.

He looked back, giving me a tiny smile.

That's when it struck me.

This was the first time in two full days I'd been alone with Lea. Like, really alone. Not in public, not where we had to put on the boyfriend-girlfriend act. Even when it'd just been the two of us in his car earlier tonight, even then we'd still had kind of been in the relative safety of pretend date mode. Besides, driving around in a car was completely different from being alone with him here, now, in my apartment late at night. Now that there was no more reason for all the hand holding, forehead kisses, and other little touches, things felt… well I wouldn't exactly say wrong per se, but more felt just kind of… off?

Panic was beginning to set in.

My mind was drawing a total blank.

I… didn't know how to be around him now. Not when we didn't have to fake a relationship anymore.

I'd forgotten how to act normal.

I think he could sense it too. The weirdness that had suddenly popped up out of nowhere. His eyebrows knit together, his gaze shifting about for a couple seconds. Then he opened his mouth to say something.

"Good night!" I loudly blurted out first.

Then I was in my bedroom so fast, you would have thought I'd spontaneously developed the power to teleport.

I slammed the door shut behind me, pressing my spine flat to it, eyes wide and taking shallow breaths through my nose. A few seconds passed where I just forced myself to inhale and exhale slowly a few times, trying to calm down. Then I winced, lightly banging the back of my head against the door.

Good job, Elsa. Way to make things mildly awkward. And for no real reason at all, you useless, hermitic dope!

With a small scowl, I shrugged out of the leather jacket and tossed it onto my bed. Then I unzipped my ankle boots, kicking them off and started pacing the length of my room back and forth, my hands twisting at my braid.

I couldn't just leave things like that. I had to talk to him. I had to toughen up and find an excuse to march my butt back out there. But what excuse?

My feet paused mid step as I glanced around my room for a minute before landing on one of my walls. Not just any wall. The one I shared with Riku's and Rayne's bedroom. Then I lightly tapped one fist into my palm. That's it! I quickly moved to my nightstand, opening the top drawer. Amongst its contents was a plastic baggie of earplugs. Digging out a pair and dropping the bag back into the drawer before closing it again, I then stepped over to my door. I took a second to take a deep breath and gather myself, standing up straighter and flicking my braid back behind me. Then with a firm, determined nod, I turned the knob and pulled, walking back out into the living room.

Lea was sitting on the couch that would be doubling for his bed tonight, arms splayed out wide to either side atop its backrest while he read the textbook that laid open in his lap. He'd pulled his hair out of its ponytail so his crimson locks were once again wild and free and he'd taken off his long-sleeved undershirt, now just wearing the tee.

Looking up at me, he all but leapt up to his feet. "El! Hi! I-" he grunted as the book he'd apparently forgotten was in his lap crashed down hard onto his foot.

I sucked in a tiny breath through my teeth with a frown, taking a step forward and reaching a hand out, "You okay?"

"Fine," he groaned. "I didn't need that toe anyway. It was only holding me back. Just dead weight." He laughed it off as he picked the textbook up off the floor, tossing it behind him onto the cushions before crossing his arms, "So, was there, ah… did you forget something?"

"Yes," I took a little step towards him, then frowned, glancing away. "Well, no…" I started to take a step back before catching myself. Wrong way, dork. "That is to say, sort of… er, I just...hm…" I thrust one fist forward, opening it palm facing up to reveal the earplugs, "Here!"

He stared down at them blankly. Then at me.

"Oh!" I gasped. "Right! Some sort of explanation would probably help." I gave a nervous heh. "So… uh… you know, those two," I gestured with my chin towards my roommates' bedroom door, "well, they just… the look they were giving each other before they went to bed, it's… well, it's a look I'm very familiar with from them. You know the look, the kind that should come with its own Marvin Gaye soundtrack. And those two… when they get going, they can really rattle the old headboard, if you know what I mean." A beat. Then I blanched. "Of course you know what I mean! Right, moving on. So uh… they are not quiet about it and they're definitely not quick. And these walls? They're thin. I'm talking like tissue paper thin. And not even the good Kleenex Deluxe kind of tissue, more like the cruddy, two-bit kind you'd get at the dollar store that just disintegrates if you even so much as breathe on it." Great, now I was just plain babbling. "These walls may as well not even be there for all the sound they block. Or rather, don't block. Then again, if they weren't there, then we'd not only hear but also see-" Wrap it up, girl, wrap it up. "A-Anyway! So just… just take these. You'll thank me later, believe me."

His eyes crinkled and he nodded, plucking them from my hand. "Alright, I'll take your word for it. Thanks."

Good. Okay. Yes, this was going well.

...huh. Though… slight hitch in the plan…

What now? I hadn't exactly thought this far ahead.

Maybe this was enough. I could now just make a graceful exit, leaving things in a better place than where I had previously. Yeah, that sounded good.

I gave him a tight-lipped grin, inching backwards as I pointed towards my room. "Okay then, I think I'll just…" But as I turned, my eyes landed on Rayne's and Riku's door again and I froze and grimaced. "Ah, shoot," I hissed under my breath.

"Problem?" I heard Lea ask behind me.

I shook my head, "I meant to ask Rayne to unzip my dress before she went to bed since the zipper is just where I can't reach and-" I blinked, then glanced over my shoulder at him sheepishly before fully turning to face him. "And why am I even telling you this? Forget I said anything. It's nothing, I'll figure it out."

"I can do it," he tossed the ear plugs onto the coffee table between us before stepping around it.

Waving my hands rapidly back and forth in front of me, I said, "No, it's fine. Really, you don't have to-"

"Don't be silly, just let me help you," he came to stop in front of me.

I tucked in my lower lip. Maybe I was just being silly about this. I mean, what was the big deal? Really? "...o-okay," I sighed, turning my back to him once more and sweeping my braid forward over one shoulder, running my hands down its length a few times. At least my old nemesis, The Blush, had the common courtesy to wait until I was no longer looking at Lea before creeping its way up into my cheeks.

I could sense him taking another step closer to me, could hear his gentle breathing as I felt his fingers undo the clasp at the top of the zipper. One of his fingertips incidentally grazed my skin and I couldn't stop a tiny shiver. Then there was a pause. Like… a long pause. I frowned straight ahead, uncertain. Nothing seemed to be happening. I turned my head slightly, stopping just short of actually being able to look back at him. "...everything okay?"

"Uh… yeah, the uh…" he cleared his throat, "...the stupid thing just got stuck for a sec there, but it's all good now." At last, the sound of the dress unzipping reached my ears. "There ya go, you're all set!"

My hand darted to clutch at the back of my dress, holding it together as I whipped around to face him. My blush? Only seemed to be growing in strength. I started backing away, "Th-thanks… for that. That was really… something. Nice! That was nice. Of you. To do that… for me. I-" I crashed into my door frame and stumbled. "Oops. Heh. Who put that there? Um… anyway…"

And on that eloquent and fully formed note, I dashed into my room, banging the door closed. Then I puffed out a breath, slumping down to sit on the floor as I pinched the bridge of my nose.

Great. Just dandy. I hadn't left things mildly awkward this time. Oh no, I'd only left them mega, ultra, super awkward now. Progress! Superb. Just perfect.

That's it. It's decided. I'm not fit for human contact. I was just going to barricade myself in this room and never come out ever again. Ever. Period. The outside world would be better off without me anyhow. Good bye, people. Hello, sweet sweet solitude. I-

I heard a muffled buzz and my head snapped up. It'd come from Lea's jacket on my bed. I squinted at it for a second. Then it clicked. My phone! I half crawled, half scrabbled over to it, digging into the pocket and pulling it out, swiping the screen.

There was a new text from Lea.

2nite was fun

I blinked, looking over at my door. Then back down at my phone, pursing my lips to one side. My thumbs hovered over the keyboard for a second. Then slowly I began to type.

I thought so too.

I waited as those three little dots hopped in a row.

We shud totes do it again sometime

A huff of amusement escaped through my nose, the tension starting to leave my body.

I'd really like that.

Then I tipped my head to one side, grinning slightly as I tapped away further.

I'm paying next time though.

The dots were dancing on my screen again.

Aight, if u insist. But b warned, Im not a cheap date

Now I actually laughed.

I can live with that.

Perhaps I'd been a bit too hasty. Maybe there was no need to barricade myself in here. Not just yet anyway. I'd hold off for a bit.

At least long enough to see what tomorrow would bring.

Author's Note: Anyone else notice Lea's shirts seem to be getting tighter and tighter every new excuse he has to see Elsa out of his work clothes? I think he's subconsciously putting on a courtship display to present himself as a sexually viable mate xD Ahem, moving on… Fun Fact 1: Fuente Del Oro is a real, Coco-themed restaurant over in Disneyland Park in Paris! Google translate says the name means "Gold Fountain", oooOOooo pretty! I really hope Coco makes it into one of the future KH games eventually! Fun Fact 2: Elsa's dress this chapter is inspired by her purple dress from when she sings Into The Unknown in Frozen 2! Just picture it shorter and more cocktail-dressy. And I know in the movie, that purple dress is a nightgown, but shhh, we'll just forget that part. And the dress Lea described in his "how we met" story? Loosely based on Elsa's Show Yourself dress - again just picture it shorter, more practical and more sundressy xD Also if you haven't heard of it, Before Sunrise is a real movie, not to mention a real SAPPY movie. Kind of slow, but cute. I'd actually never heard of it until I started writing this chapter - saw a gif go by on tumblr of the lead couple from the movie doing something adorable that made me go "oh gosh, that's SO Lea and Elsa!" and had to watch it xD I'm kind of happy it came along when it did though, cuz it gave me inspiration for Lea's "how we met" story :)

Next chapter, what new challenges will Elsa face in her adventures in fake dating? Will she ever be able to work up the courage to initiate a display of affection herself? Just how much of a "not a cheap date" is Lea really? What about his shirts? CAN they get any tighter? Stay tuned!

Thanks for reading, I super duper appreciate it! And an extra BIG thank you to those of you who’ve liked, reblogged, and followed so far, seeing those lil notifications always brings the biggest, goofiest smile to my face!

FIRST CHAPTER || PREVIOUS CHAPTER || NEXT CHAPTER

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withlove-so · 5 years

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My Light, My Dream

An Asheleth Tangled AU fanfiction!

Part 1/?

[Inspiration]

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

—

A/N: (Made this before I decided to make it a series but figured I’d keep it, hehe!)

Hey ya’ll seen this Asheleth Tangled AU @lecheyan did?

Cause I wrote something.

It’s one in the morning and, rather than sleeping, I decided writing a Tangled x Fire Emblem fan fic was the best thing I could do.

I might continue it, or maybe I’ll just make headcanons after, I dunno, I just wanted to share cause I love this AU 🥰👌

— — —

Stop me if you’ve heard this story before. A princess is kidnapped and stored away in a tower. She must wait until a valiant knight comes to rescue her, or maybe even a prince if she’s lucky. Once her savior finally arrives and brings her back to her kingdom, the armor clad soldier and the delicate princess are wed.

Such fairy tales are common place, it gives young girls the chance to imagine their own knight who will come along and sweep them off their feet. However, not all princesses get a knight in shinning armor. Sometimes, the princesses are stolen in the dead of night, with no chance of discovery. The knights could search for years and years, and yet there wouldn’t be a trace. A family would be forced to mourn the loss of their lost love, their one daughter. All because a knight couldn’t find his princess.

Why don’t their stories get told?

No one speaks of the poor lost princess.

The one lost one tragic night.

The one where her loss is mourned the same day, each year.

And she doesn’t even know it herself.

“Mother. Why do those lights always appear on my birthday? Are they for me?”

“If that is what you desire, my sweet little lily, then it can be for you.”

A beautiful, almost unreal woman. Her skin showed no signs of aging, yet her eyes spoke for themselves. She gazed at the young child- her young child- with seemingly genuine affection. As if a child could tell the difference.

The woman stroked the young girl’s soft, light green hair, almost caressing it. She hummed a sweet melody, the same melody she always sang when she brushed the young princesses hair. She paused for a moment, glancing slightly down at the small child, “Byleth, my delightful little rose, please promise your dear Mother Rhea something.”

“What is it?”

“Promise to never leave me. You can never leave your poor mother by herself, do you understand?”

“... Yes, Mother.”

— — —

“Oh you silly girl, you don’t have to listen to that woman. You’re going to be an adult soon, you can do whatever you want!”

“You look more like a young girl to me. Can you even call me that?”

Byleth always felt like something was weird with her imaginary friend. She conjured up Sothis when she was just a child, most likely because she didn’t have any real friends. Yet, somehow, she felt so real. Like she could reach out and touch her if she wanted to.

“But that’s beside the point. I can’t ask Mother to leave.”

“You’re absolutely right. You need to DEMAND her to allow you to leave!”

“No.” The answer was short yet effective. Sothis looked positively cross with her, and she couldn’t blame her. Of course Byleth wanted to leave the tower. Despite all the things Mother said about the “Dangers of the outside”, she only found herself more intrigued by the idea of leaving. The problem was getting past Mother herself. She hasn’t let her leave the tower since she was born, obviously she wouldn’t let her leave just like that.

But maybe, just maybe, if she was lucky, Mother might allow Byleth to go if she accompanied her. It was really the best shot she had of ever seeing the world outside of her tower.

“Oh Byleth! Let down your hair!” The familiar voice of her Mother rang out from the bottom of the tower. Just like clockwork, Byleth trudged over to the edge of the window and carefully put her hair over the edge to allow her mother to climb up.

“Welcome home Mother. You seem well.”

“Of course I am, my little lily, I’m with you after all! Here, I brought you your favorite stew, all the way from the lands of Faerghus! And just in time for your birthday as well.” As she finished her sentence, Mother happily hummed to herself while she put up the rest of the food in different pantries.

“My birthday... Mother, I have a request. For my birthday. Allow me to accompany you outside.”

The reaction was not pleasurable, to say the least. As soon as those words left Byleth’s lips, the food her mother held was crushed in a death grip. She turned her head, her gaze cold, “You want to leave? Sweetie, you can’t mean that. You know what I told you about the outside world, it’s dangerous for delicate little flowers like you. So just stay at home, where you’re safe and lo-“

“Mother.”

“Don’t interrupt me when I’m talking Byleth. It’s rude.” Her tone was meant to sound like she was scolding her, yet it just sounded... threatening.

“Mother. I refuse to stay in this tower. Please. Let me leave, just once.” This wasn’t going how Byleth had hoped, and yet exactly how she expected.

“If I let you leave once, you’ll want to leave again and again and again until you’re never here! You’ll leave your poor, helpless mother all by herself.” She took a few steps toward Byleth, softly caressing her hair between her fingers. She gave a meaningful tug and the few strands she held. “You don’t want that, now do you?”

“... No... Mother. Of course not.”

“Good. Then don’t ever try to ask me that again.” She released Byleth’s hair and resumed her task from before like nothing happened. Even humming the same sweet tune.

“My my... She sure is a handful.” Sothis gave a little tut next to Byleth’s ear, “But there’s still another way.”

“Mother. I think I have something else I’d like for my birthday. Not leaving the tower, of course.”

“Oh, my sweet girl, anything for you! What can I do for you?” Despite her words, her gaze was hard and stern, as if she was daring her to ask to leave again. Luckily, Byleth isn’t so easily taunted.

“Albenian jam. It’s very rare I get to enjoy it, since it’s in another country. I think I’d like to have that. If you’re able.”

“Albenian jam? My my, that’s a long trip. It would take me 4 days just to reach the port. Are you sure? That’s such a long time to be separated.”

“I’m sure. I’ll be 18, I can take care of myself.” Say yes, say yes, say yes!

“Hmm... well, if it will make you happy, how can I possibly say no? I’ll leave as soon as possible, so we can be reunited sooner, my little sweetie. But before I go...”

Byleth already knew what she wanted. Her hand brushed across her hair, and as she hummed softly once again, a light began emitting from the strands.

“Of course, Mother...”

— — —

The loud clambering of feet mixed with hooves was deafening among the people in town. This was a common occurrence at this point, and it was always the same old thief that they could never seem to catch. It honestly made the knights look bad from how long he’s been escaping their grasp.

The familiar blur of blue and gray zipped past the towns people, followed by the pursuing knights, shouting out orders among each other and curses at the uncatchable thief.

By the GODS! I’m going to die. This is going to be my resting grounds, I’m going to die here.

Fearful thoughts ran through the poor boy’s mind, this was the first time the knights had ever gotten so close. One of the knights had barely missed grabbing his arm while he was making his escape. And now they were on horse back. There was no way he could out run that. He was going to have to out smart them.

“You menace! Return what was stolen, or we will be forced to take harsh actions!” A white haired knight, who was surprisingly on foot, spoke directly to the thief.

“As if my punishment wasn’t going to be harsh enough. Thanks, but I’m not sticking around to find out.” The thief took a moment to press his hand on his bag to check if it was still there.

Bingo

The familiar shape of the intricately shaped crown made it easy to identify. As soon as he confirmed it was there, he was quick to climb up the buildings surrounding them. The cavalry was, understandably, furious that their best and only tactic had been bested by such a simple plan. As they ran around town, desperately searching for the thief, he disappeared into the woods, seemingly unnoticed.

Almost unnoticed.

Once in the safety of the trees, he took a moment to catch his breath. The adrenaline rush was still fresh and he could hardly breathe from how fast his heart was pounding. But he got what he was after, and that’s what was important.

He trekked slowly through the unfamiliar woods, spotting a few wanted posters along the way. He sighed, “They never get my nose right. Does it really look that big? I don’t think so...” He shoved the poster into his bag for future reference. At this point, there was no telling where the man was. He was just thankful that he lost the-

A whiny. The clopping of hooves. And a small voice, “What is it Dorte? Did you smell something?”

Fear once again pierced his heart. How had they found him so quickly? He was sure he hadn’t been followed, they couldn’t have. It was impossible, there was a misunderstanding, surely. But he wasn’t going to risk it.

Immediately he began a mad sprint. He wasn’t going to risk being caught over a misunderstanding. He quickly ducked behind a rock, risking only a few peaks to check if he was safe. As the hooves became closer, the thief instinctively sunk back, slowly and-

He fell. He collapsed right through the rock. Wait, that doesn’t make sense. He quickly sat up and looked around, it was a cave, the front part covered by a thick layer of vines. He sunk back a bit more, moving himself completely behind the vines. Just as he did so, a silhouette of a horse passed by, Dorte was it? It looked around for a moment before slowly trotting along. The man let out a small sigh of relief before picking himself back up.

Where was he? He walked into the cave, slow at first. When he saw a light on the other side, he walked a bit faster, wondering what could possibly meet him at the other side.

A tower was the last thing he’d expected to see.

[Next Chapter]

#fire emblem three houses #byleth eisner #ashe ubert #ashe duran #byleth x ashe #asheleth #not an ask #tangled au

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akumeis · 5 years

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♚ “ @praynightfalls ASKED ; “ your aymeric is so visceral & beautifully portrayed and SO LAYERED, backed up with gorgeous prose. how do you do it. v rude. 10/10 an absolute #legend “. // feedback meme.

i’m straight up gonna cry in a minute. you ‘re so nice, bats... bless you. it’s such an honour to share a community with you. && don’t get me started on how beautiful your writing is && how apparent it is that you worked your ass off with leil. any time i see anybody talk shit on ocs, i pray they’ll one day see a blog like yours, realise just how ridiculous they were to imply that ocs are anything but commendable. pure, inspiring creativity. so much hard work. && you did it all yourself ?? that’s unreal.

#⌜♚⌟ ┈ 𝖊𝖍𝖚𝖊 𝖋𝖚𝖌𝖆𝖈𝖊𝖘 𝖑𝖆𝖇𝖚𝖓𝖙𝖚𝖗 𝖆𝖓𝖓𝖎. ( ooc )#praynightfalls

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gaypasta · 7 years

Text

do you want fries with that?

chapter 10/? Read on Ao3 Chapter Directory

“Can you recycle candy wrappers?” Richie held up a small piece of pink bubblegum wrapper, no bigger than his finger.

“No, it’s usually coated with a thin layer of plastic.”

“Isn’t plastic recyclable?” “Yeah, but not that one - or at least when it’s been added onto paper. I think.”

Richie nodded and tossed the paper into one of the bin bags, the other, which was to be used for recycling - was sitting by Stan, who sifting through a ridiculously huge pile of bottles, throwing the empty vodka and beer bottles into the recycling bin. “Beverly really enjoyed the party, huh?” Richie smirked as he pulled on the elastic strap of a small white bra, shooting it at Stan like a rubber band.

Stan peeled the bra off his shoulder with disgust and folded it, leaning over the bin bag to set it neatly on his pillow, “Yeah, I think she left in a hurry, she left her jacket and purse here too,” Stan glanced over at her waterproof jacket, which was folded neatly on his bed. Not that it had been left like that, Stan had picked it off of his floor and folded it after making his bed. He treated other people’s items with respect.

“Reckon your parents coming home spooked her?”

“Probably, she didn’t expect them to come home to get ready for work and rushed out, or at least that what it looks like.” “Think she went out the window?”

“No, only you do that.”

Richie shrugged, “She would though.”

Stan thought about it for a moment before replying, yes - Beverly probably would. Both her and Richie are as reckless as each other.

Stan dumped an avalanche of beer and cider cans into the bin bag, which resulted in a wince from Richie, who wasn’t expecting the noise. They continued cleaning in peace, Stan methodologically moving from one area to another, picking up cans and bottles and food wrappers and putting them in one of the two bin bags. Next he would check the area for any stickiness, if any soda had spilt on his carpet he would have to steam it - which would prove difficult as the steamer is very loud and there’s no way he would be finished steaming the carpet when his parents got home - even if they were working late tonight. Next, he would pick up any small debris, such as confetti or chips - he wasn't just going to let the vacuum take the brute force - what was he, a monster who wanted a broken filter? Then he would dust, then if applicable, varnish. He wouldn’t go as far as to disinfect, there was no need - although he knew all too well that Eddie would disagree. There’s a reason Stan didn’t even attempt to ask Eddie for assistance.

He glanced over at Richie who - quite frankly - was all over the place. He picked up a crinkled paper bag and shoved it into the wrong bin bag. Then he would move more cans and debris out of the way to dust, then going back to somewhere else that had caught his attention. Richie seemed to find the concept of focusing on one thing at a time foreign, like a toddler just running around the room touching as many things as possible. Stan just shook it off, it was better than nothing.

Stan had let Richie clock out at the same time as him, despite Richie’s shift not being near finished, which caused a mild uproar from Eddie, who looked like he was in the second stage of decomposition. Richie just threw a weiner at him and told him to ‘stick it where the sun don’t shine, buddy,’. A HR nightmare, granted, but Eddie visibly paled and went back to his work, shaking his head at a burnt pan and scrubbing it furiously. Stan presumed he was probably imagining scrubbing Richie’s smug smile off of his face. He’s been there.

They cycled home together, Stan’s dirty apron (Richie insisted it hadn’t even been worn, despite Stan pointing out the ink marks around the pocket) folded neatly in his backpack, alongside his spare apron and the keys to the Diner. Richie kept his apron on for the ride home, the string at the back almost getting caught in the wheel several times. The heavy winter sun threatened to blind them as they cycled down the winding avenues and backstreets Stan had led them, but they had got there - noses bright red and a lot of shivering beneath their coats, but they had got there.

They hadn’t talked much on the way over, Richie did his usual trying to swerve into Stan, but besides that, there wasn’t all that much discussion happening. Richie noticed, but Richie always noticed when there was silence, he always felt an almost compulsive need to fill it.

“So…” Richie’s voice cracked slightly, “Gary’s Mom really did piss in your cornflakes, huh?”

Stan groaned and rubbed his eyes, “Ugh, Richie - I just wanna forget about it.”

Richie shrugged and moved a full bottle of some bright neon liquid out of his way as he scavenged for more empty cans, “I get it though, rude customers can be absolute badgers. Badgers R Us, badger central, breaker-breaker we have a code 4-24 badger breakout - please respond.”

Stan looked up at him in confusion, “Badgers?”

“Yeah like… dickheads, annoying cunts - you get it.” Stan threw a rolled up pair of socks at Richie’s face, it hit his face and fell to the ground unceremoniously.

“No using the C-word in the house, you ‘badger’.”

“Oh, sorry your majesty. Holy place of the Lord, is it?”

“He’s always watching, you know. You’re never safe.”

“Smite me.” Richie kicked the socks back over to Stan, who picked them up and delicately placed them back into his drawer. They were red socks, so they had to go between his black socks and his orange socks. He shifted a few pairs of black socks over to make room so that it would be aligned right, “You should’ve just kicked her out, save the arguing.”

“I couldn’t just kick her out, Richie.”

“I would’ve.”

“Which is why you haven’t got promoted.”

“Fuck off, the world isn’t ready for my unreal management skills. The world would be cowering at my feet, CEOs would be slitting their wrists in fear of losing their companies to me. I’ll be the world’s first ever trillionaire.”

“World’s first ever famous loudmouth.” “Shut up, that’s Gary’s Mom.”

“She’s not famous though.”

“She’s our most famous fussy customer. Mike loves seeing her coming.”

“Our famed bit-terrible person more like.”

“Bitch? Were you going to say bitch?”

Stan flipped Richie the finger and went back to tying off the bin bag he’d filled. Richie huffed and let go of his bag, it hitting the floor with a heavy sound of glass. He found his way to Stan and dropped himself behind him, so they were sitting back-to-back. The warmth from Richie’s back bled into him a little, it was almost therapeutic. Stan could hear the faint noise of a fingernail on tin. It echoed around the room, seeming to bounce on the walls.

“You get too hyped up about what people say, you know.”

Stan’s back straightened, “And how do you suppose that?”

“You’ve been walking around like someone just gutted your cat all day. Just because some square was being a bitch. You’re gonna meet a buncha rude-ass fuckers in your life, Stan - no point being all mopey and woe-is-me when you do.”

“You’re the only rude-ass fucker I know.”

“Har-har-har,” Richie sarcastically retorted, “I’m being serious. Why you gotta let someone like that put you in a mood?”

Stan sighed and relaxed into Richie, hiking his knees up and resting his elbows on them, “It’s just - I don’t know - she was so unnecessarily hostile it was unnerving -” “I know like who the fuck cares if your kid gets diabetes! Let him have the candy!” Richie fisted the air.

“What I was going to say,” Richie lowered his arm, “she was so hostile about you. About the very thought of her son being near someone who’s gay. She spat it out as if she was talking about a criminal or a pedofile - like with that amount of putrid hatred, I just can’t understand it. I get that some people find it unnatural - hell it is unnatural - but so are radios, and planes and cars and no one has problems with those. No one actively hates them or thinks they’re the work of sin.”

“She probably thought she was talking about a paedophile, to be fair.” Stan heard the pop and fizz of Richie opening a can.

“Did you just open a beer?” Stan felt Richie nod his head, his messy hair tickling the back of Stan’s neck, “What do you mean?”

Richie swallowed the mouthful of beer and tapped on his can nonchalantly, as if this was a conversation he needed to put little thought into, “Gay people usually are pedos, that’s what they think, at least. Probably thought we were fattening up her kid because I simply just cannot resist some glorious love handles.”

“People don’t really think that though, it’s not the thirties anymore.” Stan held a little doubt in his voice.

Richie let out a laugh, not necessarily sour but not particularly sweet either, “I’ve been called it dozens of times. Oh, little sheltered one, you have a lot to learn about the cruel mistress we call society.” Stan glanced over at Richie, who was taking another drink of his beer. His movement must’ve caught Richie’s eyes as he lifted his attention from his drink to Stan. “Do you want one? It’s five o’clock somewhere my man. Unless yer en Eireland! It’s alwaes foive o’clack there so it is!”

“If I say yes will you promise to not do that God-awful accent again?” Richie laughed and reached across to a can of beer which had been abandoned by his dresser. Probably from Stan hurriedly clearing out the kitchen and dumping it on his bedroom floor before he was late for work. Richie worked his finger under the ring and popped it open, handing it to Stan.

The pair sat in silence for a moment, in the midst of a half-tidy, half-messy room with the wind dancing through the room every so-often and sending a shiver down the boys’ spines.

“There’s no need to get your knickers in a twist about it, Stan. Really.” Stan sighed and nodded, he knew he was being a little overly sensitive about the entire situation but the way the woman was so overtly disgusted by the thought of someone who was gay or that way inclined was making his stomach sink every time he thought about it. He was a religious man for the most part, sure. And he recognizes that in Leviticus it’s recognized as a sin, but only God and servants of God can judge. Stan has no authority to judge anyone for their sins and neither do the awful people of Derry. “I’m used to it by now. Hell, why do you think this handsome and charismatic devil wound up with you sad sack of losers?”

Stan took a small drink and shrugged, “Always assumed it was because you are the personification of tackiness. Do people at school really know about it?”

Richie shrugged, “At school? Those assholes barely know how to wipe the shit off their own asscheeks nevermind knowing anything about me. They hear rumours and they think a lot of things. Just so happened that this rumour wasn’t completely wrong - not that I’m telling them that.”

“I suppose they do always call us a bunch of queers…”

Richie laughed, “Yeah, I got my head flushed in the toilets outside Gym one day because I said one of the guys off the basketball team had good form.”

“You know what good form is?”

“Not a fucking notion, his ass just looked great.” Stan and Richie had a chuckle at that. Stan felt oddly at ease in his messy room, with Richie’s hair tickling his neck.

“Hey, Richie?” Richie made a grunt in response, grabbing for another beer, “Want to watch a movie?” Richie made another grunt, a happier grunt.

So Stan stuck on a movie while he and Richie finished up the cleaning, it only took about twenty minutes but by then they were both ready to relax. They were lying on the bed, the TV tilted on the dresser so they could see it from their viewpoint on Stan’s single bed. Richie wanted to lie on the floor, but Stan pointed out to him, why would he have a bed if not to lie on? The floor was spotless, all of Stan’s possessions were in their rightful spots and the house had been vacuumed. Richie had taken care in ensuring that the bin bags were in the wheelie bins and that there was definitely no stray cans laying around the house.

There was only one problem, which Richie had been so keen on pointing out, there was still a fair bit of alcohol left. About a dozen cans of beer, a couple stray ciders and a half bottle of what appeared to be an expensive brand of tequila. Richie stares at the collection, longingly throughout a good portion of the movie. Stan rolled his eyes, “You’re not having another. You’ve already had two.”

Richie fell into the bed in a huff, “You’re not my real Dad!”

Stan gave in and reached down for a beer for Richie and a cider for himself - he recognized that this wasn’t something that he would normally do, in fact, Stan wasn’t really one for partaking in drinking at all, but he figured that after a day like that he deserved it. Not to mention that the quicker that this alcohol is gone - the better. Stan knew that Richie wouldn’t take it home as his Mom would probably indulge herself. Stan kind of assumed it was best not to ask - if Richie could’ve taken it home, he would’ve.

Stan watches Richie for a moment, gulping down his drink as if it was the last one he would ever have, dribbles of beer running down his chin and dripping onto his creased t-shirt. His hair was in disarray and his glasses were crooked - as usual. Stan looked at Richie, his messy clothes, his mismatched socks and was expecting himself to have a need to fix it. He was waiting for his mind to try and force him to brush out Richie’s hair and fix his glasses and basically just change his entire outfit, but no. Not today, at least. Today Richie’s wonky glasses were merely as they were - wonky. His mismatched socks were nothing more and nothing less as a bold fashion statement. And the beer running down his chin? Just plain gross.

Stan looked around his room, his door wasn’t just closed right and he could spot a dirty smudge of god-knows-what on his doorknob. The string on his curtain was wrapped around itself and swung left and right with the breeze from his open window. He looked down at Richie’s shoes which were placed delicately beside his bed, the laces were tied wrong and they were facing the bed, not the door. All these things Stan had noticed, but he had to look for them. He found himself seeking out a reason to be irritated, but there was none - because even though all these ticks would have normally sent his mind crazy. He just took them as is. He knew they were there and the existed in the same way the moon does - you can look at it, and see that it exists, but it does nothing more and nothing less than that. Without the moon, we would be simply that, without the moon. The dirt on the doorknob or Richie’s shoes are nothing more than that, just what they are - existing the way that they were meant to.

Stan felt relaxed, for the first time in a while. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was toying with his head. Or maybe it was Richie, who was so content in being unperfect that Stan could stare in awe at him for a week. Stan realised it was beginning to get dark, which meant that it was coming time for Richie to return home before it was impossible to see clearly. The thought of being in his home - which had been previously full of his friends laughing and dancing and having fun - alone made him feel almost scared. He had been left home alone when his parents were working late many times before, but since he had a taste of companionship on those nights, it felt almost too bitter to let them go.

“Richie, do you want to stay over tonight?” The words were out of his mouth before he had really even thought about them. He didn’t really need to though, Richie was always a welcome addition to the Uris household.

“Sure, let’s get hammered.” Well, that wasn't exactly what Stan had in mind, but if needs must.

“Sure, I’m not taking any tequila though.”

“Cool, double tequila shots for Stan, got it.” Richie nodded as he jumped off the bed and waltzed to the kitchen, as if Stan’s home was as familiar as his own. Stan thinks back to the times that his parents had invited Richie over for dinner after the boys were out playing all day. He always wondered why they only ever invited Richie over for dinner - maybe his parents had been more observant of his friend’s homelife than he ever had. The small inkling of guilt was soon washed away when Richie came back into the room with two shot glasses in hand.

He poured them both a shot of tequila and he had hit is back before Stan had even had the chance to smell his own, he really wasn’t a fan of tequila at all - or any spirits at that, but Richie had already downed his - and Stan wasn’t going to break the tit-for-tat rule. So he knocked the shot back and swallowed it as quickly as possible, trying to get the liquid out of his mouth as quickly as possible. He coughed as his throat burned. “That was disgusting. How do people actually like this stuff?”

Richie laughed at Stan’s reaction and mocked him before grabbing himself another beer, “I don’t think anyone actually enjoys drinking it. It’s like coffee - all the adults have basically peer-pressured themselves into thinking it’s good because it’s a thing adults drink.”

Stan scrunched his face up, “Coffee is pretty gross.”

Richie nodded, taking a swig of his beer and putting his attention back to the movie. Stan wasn’t even sure what part of the movie they were at, his attention had been all over the place for the past while. All he knew was, after a good ten minutes or so, he began to feel the familiar lightheadedness that he had felt last night. He only had two drinks though, surely he can’t be feeling the effects of alcohol already?

“You up for another shot, my guy? I know you pretend to hate this alcohol stuff but I know you secretly live for it.” Richie hadn’t even gave Stan time to respond before he was pouring another shot and Stan didn’t even have time to conceptualize what was happening before he swallowed the shot. He just took whatever Richie gave him to drink without question. He swiped a bit of the clear liquid off his lip and hissed as it burnt a papercut he never even knew he had.

“Richie - I think I’m drunk?”

Richie stared at Stan as if he had grown an extra head before his face twisted into somewhere between shock and horror, “Please, tell me you had breakfast this morning because I know for a fact you were too busy for your lunch break today.”

Stan thought for a moment before shaking his head, “No I woke up late.” The world seemed to continue to move slightly after shaking his head.

Richie dragged his hand down his face, before handing Stan back his half-empty can of cider, “That’s your last drink of the night, you lightweight. I’m going to order pizza to help sober you up while I have a smoke before you puke all over the beautiful carpet I spent thirty-five years cleaning. Capice?”

“G-got it.” Stan took the drink and relaxed into the pillow, trying to focus on the blurry moving people on the TV as Richie, clearly a little tipsy himself, clambered over him to get to the house phone in the kitchen. Stan could hear soft thud followed by Richie cursing and calling the coffee table a lot of names. Stan cradled his lukewarm cider as he heard Richie give the pizza order down the phone, listing off Stan’s address with as much ease as Stan.

It wasn’t moments later when Richie bounced back onto Stan’s bed, a smoky air following him. “You were quick,” Stan noted, words slurring slightly.

“I realised I still had enough tequila left for a couple more shots and what sort of fool am I to pass that up, Stan?”

“I guess a pretty big - uhhhhhh- fool.”

“Good attempt there, bravo.” Richie remarked as he lifted the tequila and took a shot directly from the bottle, Stan watched in a mix of horror and amusement - surely Richie was going to puke. Richie hissed as he took the final shot, and Stan swore he saw him gag a bit before he grabbed the cider out of Stan’s loose grip and took a swig of that, swirling it around in his mouth. Richie groaned as Stan told him to put the bottle in the recycling bin - which had already been taken outside. He did as he was instructed, and came back with a red face and less stability in his step. What was it about going out in the cold that made your alcohol hit you like a train?

They lay there for several minutes, Richie draped over Stan’s legs and Stan sinking into the pillows, watching the movie. Stan could see Richie swaying every so often, trying to keep his head balanced on his hand - or maybe it was Stan that was swaying. Either way, someone in this room is most definitely not sober.

The sky was pitch black and there was no sound bar the soft revving of cars driving past and the so familiar static sound of Stan’s hand-me-down television. The movie was coming to a close soon, if Stan remembers right. He wonders briefly what they were going to watch next before giving up on the train of thought - Richie would surely pick something half decent. Stan felt Richie squirming over his legs for a moment before laying still. Stan assumed that Richie was just trying to get comfy on top of Stan’s bony knees. That was until Richie had repeated the action about five more times and Stan finally barked out, “What are you squirming so much for?!”

To Stan’s surprise, Richie shot up like a rocket and looked him dead in the eyes. Stan straightened up in the pillows, wondering what was up with Richie, but he fell back into the pillows when Richie grabbed his face and drove their lips together for the second time that weekend. Stan’s heart starting speeding in his chest as Richie slowly worked their lips together - and after Richie was sure Stan wasn’t going to pull away, he climbed on top of his best friend and held his face, his pinky finger occasionally making contact with his eyebrow.

Stan, although in a state of shock, couldn’t help the fact that he was working his lips alongside Richie’s and instinctively pushing his body up to get closer to him. He felt the softness of Richie’s tongue pass into his mouth and he couldn’t help but give in to Richie’s mouth. The feeling of Richie’s mouth on his, and the closeness of their bodies made Stan’s arms break out in goosebumps. The dizzyingly violent taste of tequila bounced between their tongues and the taste of cheap cigarettes only ceased as a reminder to who Stan was kissing. If the feeling of Richie’s hair tickling his face, or Richie’s fucking knee an inch away from his crotch wasn’t enough - the taste of Richie was dancing along his tongue and into his stomach - not like a fire or a flame - more akin to the soft amber glow of a cigarette.

As Richie moved into Stan - pushing him further into the mattress - Stan could almost push dirty thoughts from his head. Almost. He found himself grabbing onto Richie’s creased shirt for dear life - as if the shirt itself was stealing the oxygen from his lungs. He traced his hands up to Richie’s collarbone and with a touch as delicate as a feather - danced his pointer finger along it. It felt oddly intimate - the knots that were winding in Stan’s stomach only tightened - he was afraid he might choke.

Stan was ripped almost violently from his internal fixation on his best friend, when he felt a soft, tentative nip at his lip. It wasn’t sharp or particularly painful - but it was something. It was a gateway into something a lot darker, a lot drunker and a lot of things that he and Richie were not. Best friends don’t bite each other like that. They don’t leave bruises or anything like that.

Stan jerked from Richie’s mouth and held the spot Richie had toyed with under his finger, looking down at the space - or lack thereof - between him and Richie.

“H-hey, Richie?” Stan’s voice cracked a little unexpectedly and he cringed inwardly at how nervous he sounded.

“What?”

“This isn’t going to make things weird, right?” Richie sat up a bit so he could focus a little better on Stan’s face. Stan could feel his face prickling with heat - he could only imagine that his face was glowing red, which didn’t really help his impression of trying to look cool and collected, “Like - we’re best friends. This isn’t weird at all?”

Richie tilted his head to the side, “Making out with your bro? Nah, totally cool. Best way to spend an afternoon if I’m honest.” Richie caught a glimpse of the utterly unamused Stan and rolled his eyes dramatically, “Listen - simple science. If you make out with me - just for kicks, funsies - whatever - then when you go to make out with someone you actually care about, a girl or girlfriend situation, then you’ll not completely suck. Do you hear the gospel I’m preaching?”

Stan wasn’t completely convinced, “We’re drunk.” Stan murmured, meeting a face of confusion on Richie’s face, “People do weird stuff all the time drunk. It doesn’t mean anything, people shove fireworks up their ass when they’re drunk - it doesn’t make a face on their character though.” Richie stared blankly at Stan for a moment, almost as if he was looking to say something - he didn’t though. He just fixed his glasses and moved back onto his heels, as if to move off of Stan. Stan held him in place though, fingers catching the loop of his baggy jeans.

“I - uh - I mean,” Stan coughed, having a little difficulty finding his words, “We don’t have to stop.”

And like that, Richie moved swiftly back into Stan’s mouth - as if any longer away from it would have physically hurt him. They moved together with a little more confidence, their mouths clashing with a little more force, and small breathy noises escaping into the room from their open mouthed-kisses in harmony with the static of the VHS tape needing to be rewinded. Stan slipped his tongue inside Richie’s mouth and felt Richie’s lips move slightly into the form of a smile, before grabbing Stan’s face with a certain authoritative glee that Stan didn’t dare object to.

He could feel what he could only deduce to be Richie’s boner pressing against his own groin - not intentionally, or so he thinks. Richie isn’t grinding on him or humping him or anything, he’s just moving through Stan’s mouth and brain like a cunning snake, slipping through him and toying with his head. Stan could feel the whispers of his first and only wet dream licking at his consciousness.

He could almost feel Richie sucking marks into his skin and toying with him, playing with him in such lewd ways that he blushes to think that his mind even conjured up the image. He felt an urge for it, to feel Richie against him. It was natural - of course - he was in the midst of puberty with someone lying on top of him - what else would his hormones do?

In his mind, Stan knew he wanted more than that - he wanted to feel intimate with his best friend in a way that would only make sense to him and Richie. No one else on earth had a friendship as inconsistent and riveting as them, and Stan wanted everyone to know. He and Richie weren’t like everyone else - they balanced each other in such a perfect way that Stan knew that it had been nothing short of fate - a cruel fate, albeit when Richie was in a mischievous way, but they seemed to dance around each other perfectly in harmony without any need for choreography.

Stan groaned into Richie’s mouth as he moved his body closer to Stan, the two were almost moulding together at this point - and both of them were nothing more than hormonal messes, needing the touch of each other liked frenzied starved dogs. They were grinding into each other - hoping that the other wouldn't notice, doing anything to relieve the ball of tension in their stomachs. Stan gripped at Richie’s hair and prayed to God to turn a blind eye on his current sinning.

Stan couldn’t take it anymore - he needed more than kissing, his body was on fire in a way that he had never experienced before. Without something more, Stan felt as though he was going to faint. “R-Richie, I need-”

And as Stan’s luck would have it, the doorbell rang throughout the empty home - cutting through the two boys’ moans and exertion. Richie blinked at the closed door, almost as though he had forgotten where he was. He fixed his glasses and attempted to tame his hair, as if Stan’s desperate grappling hadn’t made it frizzy beyond redemption.

“Pizza, it’s the pizza.” Richie laughed, “Cockblocked by pizza - not sure how I feel about that one, to be honest. It’s difficult to be disappointed by pizza.”

Stan nodded, not really relating. He kind of wanted to ring the pizza boy’s neck. Hormones sure are a wild ride, huh.

#stozier #it #it 2017 #it fanfiction #dywfwt #YES its been two months #AND WHAT ABOUT IT

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dressed-up-in-blue · 7 years

Text

The man of flesh and blood (Drake X MC)

Book: The Royal Romance

Pairing: Drake X MC

Words: 2275

Summary: Sick and tired of preparations for the ball, Coleen takes a stroll in the woods and Drake follows her.

Note: So it looks like that’s gonna be my first fic! I really hope you will enjoy it. This scene takes place during the stay in the Alps (Book 1).

The whole day passed off so quickly. The great ball was arranged for today’s evening, so it was obvious that everyone was doing their best to perform well. From the early morning, service was busy with cleaning and arranging the whole Nevrakis residence. Every single speck of dust was wiped off, new decorations were hung all over the palace and even fresh flowers were imported for this occasion. All of the guest seemed to hide somewhere in their rooms, even Maxwell and Hana were gone.

At first Coleen thought it was quite strange, so many preparations just for this one night. She couldn’t understand why it was so important. On the other side, she knew Olivia wouldn’t forgive herself wasting such a great opportunity to show everyone the splendor of her own estate. It was obvious she was doing her best to impress everyone and show the whole world she’s the best in everything. For a moment, Coleen had this impression that this ball wasn’t worth this kind of efforts. But happily it wasn’t her business and she was glad she didn’t have to worry about organizing anything. She was only surprised that no one was trying to give her advices or instructions for such an important event. Maybe it was because of Bertrand’s absence. Usually she would be instructed from the early morning, then it would be the time to choose a fancy, glistering dress and finally all of those “remember”, “don’t forget to” and obligatory small talk about “the Beaumont house” and it’s honor. But honestly? She managed to get used to it. After all of those long weeks she even started to like it and now, when Bertrand wasn’t here in the Alps, she found herself missing his chat.

Finding everyone occupied, Coleen decided to put on her coat and take a stroll in the woods. She wanted to think over all of the recent developments. She changed her clothes and left the house. As she went outside, fresh air hit her with its chill. The weather was just perfect. The sky was covered with all sorts of white, milky clouds, sailing down slowly. The sight of the Alps was just breathtaking, but maybe it was because she’s never seen the real mountains before.

Coleen headed for the woods and after a few minutes she found herself between tall pines, all whitened with the snow. It was so peaceful there, in the forest. She could barely hear a sound. It was only her and the old trees. Such a great opportunity to think about all of that happened last days. Specially yesterday. She knew Olivia’s way of life and her motto was to poison each’s days. She got used to her ratty, rude and insolent remarks, but when she attacked Drake, Coleen felt something strange in her heart. She didn’t exactly know what it was or how to call it, but she definitely hasn’t felt anything like that before. And that was what worried her most. What was it supposed to mean? Was she changing her mind of Drake? At first, when they met, he was so awful. And she even didn’t know why. But there was something in him, she didn’t even know how to call it. But all that she knew, was that she felt different when he was beside her. Of course, she flew to Cordonia because of the prince. It was a crush, at least that’s what Bertrand, Maxwell and even Liam thought. If somebody had just the idea of asking her what s h e really felt, it could be quite shocking. At first she also believed she loved Liam. But after some time, or rather moments, spent with the prince, she was slowly becoming sure. She didn’t love him. Of course, he was the future Cordonia king, always so well-behaved, polite and tactful. It was the ideal of perfect man. But not for her. She needed someone real, someone of flesh and blood. A man with harsh, sometimes even tough, sense of humor. Someone who exactly knows what he wants, someone resolute yet so gentle. Someone like Drake. Yesterday, under the stars, she saw his real side. It was him – rough, snarky, always hiding behind irony and his sarcasm. But it was only a mask. Deep inside, he was fragile, insecure, unsure and very harmed. Liam had everything – he was the future king, handsome, eloquent and just the right man in the right place. But Drake always had to live in his shadow. He was his best friend and it was obvious he cared about Liam. And that was the point. The real Drake was a reliable, loyal man, that put Liam’s good above his own. The prince seemed so unreal, maybe even fake. Whereas Drake was someone, she really admired. And the fact that he was hiding all that was good in him under thick layer of irony, only made him more endearing.

Coleen took a few more steps and suddenly stopped in the middle of the forest. It looked like something magical. White and fluffy snow had covered nearly everything. Huge pines, swaying softly on the wind; rays of sunlight running through the trees and quiet melody of singing birds. Even snow, that started right now to fall gently on the ground, seemed to make that sort of the soft sound calming one’s senses. This fine scenery made such a great contrast to what was in her heart. It was almost shouting and craving freedom. Maxwell and Bertrand have put so much effort in her appearance, clothing and the way of speaking. They really seemed to pin their hopes on Coleen. She just wasn’t allowed to let them down. And there was also the other side – all of her enemies waiting for her defeat. And finally there was Liam. How was she supposed to tell him about her feelings? Besides, she really didn’t want to admit it, but it looked like she was the only one caring of him, not his throne. Madeleine, Olivia, Kiara – all of these women wanted his splendor, fame and money. They just wanted to be queen of Cordonia, that was the cruel and stinging truth. But she also knew, she just couldn’t cheat on Liam. And how to name this whole situation with the prince as not a lie?

Struggling with herself, she suddenly heard a strange noise. It was a crack, something like breaking limb. Coleen looked behind but she saw nothing special. When she turned away, there was somebody standing in front of her. It was Drake.

- Drake! What are you doing here?! You scared the hell outta me!

- Nice to see you too, Windsor.

- Nice and cheerful as always – she said as Drake came closer.

- What are you doing here? Alone in the forest, I could barely call it responsible.

- Well, I could ask you the same question. Are you following me?

- You really think I don’t have other occupations?

- Yes, that’s what I’m thinking – she smiled softly as Drake shook his head.

- Well, if you must know, I saw you going out and I thought that with your luck I’d better go and see if you’re ok.

- With my luck?

- Yes… Let me remind you of all those funny situations you put yourself into through the whole season.

- You’d better not – she added and after that an awkward silence fell.

Coleen give Drake a sudden look as she caught him observing her. His eyes were lingering on her until he quickly looked away. But before it, she saw something weird in his look. Something, that she’s never seen before. She had no idea, he was struggling with himself. After yesterday’s night he couldn’t stop thinking of her. Before that, he managed to control himself, but something has changed. He was still trying to hide under irony, but it seemed like it wasn’t really working with Coleen.

- Shouldn’t you be preparing for the ball? – he finally broke the silence.

- That’s what I was thinking. But it looks like everyone’s occupied with themselves. Honestly, I don’t even know where they are gone – she smiled softly. He always liked that sort of smile, but of course tried to hide it. Quiet sigh was all that he let himself.

- They say, when the cat's away the mice will play.

- Very funny. You might be surprised, but Bertrand can be tolerable.

- Tolerable? It that a new fancy synonym of stiff and grouch? – he asked and both of them burst out laughing.

When silence fell and the only sound was actually the falling snow, Coleen looked at Drake. At first he didn’t want to do the same, like he was avoiding her. But she was relentless and soon he looked in her eyes. There was something rough in his stare, something unreadable. But what was strange, he didn’t look away. They were both staying in front of each other in silence, and snow falling between them.

- Drake… – she started first. – Don’t you think we should talk?

- Talk? About what?

- About yesterday? I might be wrong… but don’t you feel anything? – she hardly managed to say and took a look at Drake. He was silent, but his face expressed the whole palette of feelings she couldn’t guess. The silence was dragging on so she eventually decided to say something. As she opened her mouth, Drake overtook her.

- Of course I feel! I have so many feelings for you, Windsor. But it doesn’t matter. I shouldn’t have even said that. What am I doing? – he added rather to himself.

- Why are you saying such things? You know you’re wrong.

- Wrong is what we’re doing now. You see, all of this is because of Liam’s sake. You’re here for him, just like other suitors and the whole court. It doesn’t matter what I feel.

- Drake, listen. Yes, I admit, I’m here because of Liam. But so many things have changed. That was the reason why I’m here at all, in this place. But the reason I’m still here… The reason is completely different – she said and looked at him hesitating.

They were now standing so close. It would be enough, if just one of them made one small step and they will find themselves come together. Coleen could even feel his warm breath on her skin, what made her shiver.

- Drake, I don’t care about all that fancy dresses, knighthoods, flashes and golden stuff. You should see, I seek something real. A real person. Someone like you…

- Hell, Windsor… You shouldn’t have said that. It was easier that way, when I was avoiding you.

- You should have noticed hiding behind irony doesn’t work.

- Well, I guess you’re right – he smiled lightly, looking now even boyish with that glint in his eyes. – But you see, Liam is my best friend, he also had tough moments in his life, even if it’s hard to imagine. I couldn’t betray him.

- Drake, you must know I care about him. He means a lot to me. But you mean more…

Drake took a deep, ragged breath and she saw him struggling with his thoughts.

- I didn’t think you would ever say so.

- It’s truth and you should know it, Drake. It is you that I love…

As Coleen finished, she lowered her head and looked away, clearly embarrassed by what she had said. She never thought she would be able to admit such thing and make such confession. All of a sudden, she felt Drake putting his hand against her chin. She looked up and spotted Drake fixed his eyes on her. He seemed so touched, nearly heaving passion in his sight. Drake looked away, moving from her eyes to her lips. If only she’d known how hard was it for him to stay calm and control himself when he was beside her. Suddenly, not able to linger, he pulled her tight against him and started to kiss her deeply. His lips hungrily finding hers, his hands running up and down her hips and the whole body, ending in her hair. Coleen put her hands on his shoulders, embracing him tightly and returning his kisses. The kiss deepened as she took the joy of being with Drake. She even didn’t notice the freeze and the falling snow. Drake dipped his head to brush his lips against her neck, when he suddenly broke the kiss. But he didn’t move back. He just whispered softly:

- Even yesterday I wanted you so badly… I never hoped it would be something real.

- Drake… – she murmured.

He cupped her face in his hand and kissing her tenderly on the lips. He broke the kiss, but didn’t pull away, he stayed there, so close to her, staring into her eyes with such love and devotion. Coleen looked back at him and rested her forehead against his. Drake smiled lightly and he finally pulled away.

- We should go… It’s getting cold – he said.

- I know… Drake, do you think, we will find a solution?

- We will – he answered and nodded. – For I know it’s worth it. Come on, let’s go back to the palace.

She didn’t say anything, she kissed him deeply one more time, putting her hand in his hair. Drake gave her a smile and looked at her with such love. She was happy. And she knew, she was just sure, they would find a solution to that messed up situation. Because she loved him and so did he.

#drake x mc #the royal romance #trr #trr drake #drake walker #playchoices fanfiction #choices fanfiction

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storyunrelated · 7 years

Text

Colder, Harder Hugs #3_Unwanted Words

I did more of this?

What even was an ordinary life at this point?

I mean, things were fairly mundane, just with this odd tinge of unreality that made everything feel a touch surreal. Like, I was still a slovenly, lazy bastard slouching my way through low-level academia but now people looked at me even more funny then they had before and every so often I’d turn to see people pointing.

That was legitimately unsettling the first few times, then just tiring. How many people were aware of this odd ‘living-machines are an issue’ subculture? Lots, apparently. Maybe it was bleeding into the mainstream. Perhaps it was just culture now. I should probably pay attention to this sort of thing now that it directly affects me.

Hah! That’s the spirit. Ignore everything until it affects you. Become interested in a problem once it is your problem! There might be some kind of backwards nobility in continuing to be ignorant in spite of becoming affected, really. You’ve gone this far, why not a little further?

It helps that I’m lazy. It’s really, really easy to keep being lazy once you start being lazy. Try it, you’ll see. Tricky habit to break, especially if you can see no reason to break and nothing to break it for.

Who am I talking to?

An additional layer of oddness with life now was, naturally, having someone around who’s express job was protecting me from people who wanted my life to be unsafe. This was a twofold layer. On the one hand it’s unusual knowing that this person is being follow you around and that YOU are their job. On the other hand it’s super-unusual thinking about the world now holding people who know who you are and who do not like you without ever having met you. This must be what being a famous lady is like.

Morley was the one following me today, at a discrete distance of course.

I settled in a seat towards the back of the room, because that’s what I always did. I knew Morley would be outside. Her being in the room had been deemed a little beyond the pail by university authorities and she’d been fine with it. Apparently she didn’t need to be in the room with me to know if I needed her. That’s not alarming or anything.

Since I’d showed up a little early there were not as many people around yet as there could have been. I had the distinct impression they were trying to not pay me attention, while also doing their best to pay as much attention to me as they could. This impression only got worse as the room filled up and more people did it. I wasn’t sure what they expected me to do. Dance, perhaps? I have a dearth of rhythm though, so more fool them. It’d be underwhelming at best.

Eventually the place became what you might legitimately call ‘full’ and someone actually sat next to me - most had been avoiding this up until then. Oddly, he could have sat further away (I saw free seats) but he did not, instead choosing to sit right slap-bang next to me. Unusual. Like sitting next to someone on the train when the chair on the other side of the carriage is free. Like picking the urinal next to the man already peeing. Why would you do that?

He also smiled at me. Why would you do that, too? What an odd thing to do.

To be fair I always feel that way when anyone smiles at me. Typically I shrug it off as it being down to someone else being behind me. It is them, not I, that is the intended target of the smile. Sometimes though there is no-one behind me, but it still happens. Weird. This would be one of those times.

“You’re that guy, right?” The guy asked. First sitting next to me, then smiling, now talking? What sort of monster in human form was this?

“No. Yes. Maybe,” I said, as his question left of a lot of other, smaller questions in its wake. He seemed to think I was making a joke because he chuckled at this, accepting my answer as a simple ‘yes’. I think this said a lot about him.

“I thought it was you. Seen you around before and then I heard about all the stuff online. So yeah. How is it?”

“You might have to narrow that down a little,” I said and he properly laughed that time, making at least one person turn and look to see what the deal was. I wasn’t trying to be funny, honest.

“You’re a funny guy. Going out with a robot, man! How is it? Like, tell me everything.”

“You... you never had a relationship before?” I asked.

“What? Oh, yeah - yeah yeah yeah. Just with real girls! Robots gotta be better than all THAT,” he said emphatically. I had a feeling this guy and I would not be friends once this lecture was over. I cast an eye around for the lecturer or anyone willing to help but was still on my own.

“To my knowledge Tillie is actually a girl and something with thoughts and agency so it was a lot like any other relationship you might imagine. Just with a few less soft spots and a few more hard edges,” I said. I could think of no better way of summing up my feelings. I mean, that was all of it, to my knowledge. Tillie was a person, so here we were. What else did he want from me?

“All I know is that it’s gotta be worth a shot. Never had much luck with real girls, you know?”

Something about that sentence seemed insulting, though I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. It might have been all of it. Might have been every last bit of it from start to finish. Not sure. Difficult to pinpoint.

“And so you’ve decided...what exactly?” I asked. Would have been rude not to reply, and would have been ruder to reply with one of brusque things the rat-bastard in the rear of my skull suggested I should say. Things like

“Define a real girl, shitheel.” “Could your lack of luck be a result of your unpleasant nature?”

And:

“Go fuck yourself.”

But I had not said any of those things, which was probably just as well. Things like that are fun to say in the short term, but really they just cause more trouble than they’re worth. At least for me. But I’m risk averse! Someone else likely would have said something better and said it better, too. But here I am, braced for his reply.

“I decided, right? This is genius - I decided - real girls are out, right? Too picky. Bitchy. Can’t ever please them. These, uh, robots though? You see ‘em sometimes, you know? And they always look like they’re lonely. If you get me. Lonely is an opening.”

This was vile. This was legitimately vile. Why was he sitting next to me and saying this? What could he hope to gain from this? Was this how he hoped this conversation would be going?

“Living-machines,” I said, doing my best not to grit my teeth. Wasn’t a lecturer supposed to be coming in sometimes soon? To talk so this guy can shut up and I can leave as quickly as possible once it’s over? And forget this ever happened?

“What?” He asked, his momentum halted and his frustration obvious.

“Living-machines, not robots.”

“Whatever. Same thing, right? Point is, there’s not many of them. They don’t have many friends, they don’t have a lot of competition, see? So they’re not as fussy! I get a chance.”

As the horror of this type of thinking sunk into my very bones he shuffled in his seat and leaned in closer to me. His proximity was offensive.

“She ever do anything with her tail?” He asked, quietly, conspiratorially. I knew what he meant. I know I knew. I just chose to pretend that I did not. I decided that I had no idea what he was talking about. This made me feel a bit better.

“Uh, I guess? I mean, she tripped me up once or twice,” I said. Honestly most of the time I forgot it was there until she actively did something to make me notice it. Like trip me up. She hadn’t done that in a while though.

“No no not like that. I mean did she ever do anything, you know, fun?” He asked, smiling in a way I assumed he thought meant something to me. It did not, and left me blinking. I really put effort into pretending I had no idea what he could be driving at, as he was obviously driving at something.

“She always seemed to think tripping me up was pretty fun,” I said.

“Come on, you know what I’m saying.”

This was a line of questioning that was making me uncomfortable. It was steering my mind in directions that were unfamiliar and in which it did not want to go. I may have grimaced. I did something rash.

“Could we not talk about this?” I asked. My equivalent of the nuclear option. I don’t think I’d ever asked anyone ever to stop talking about something. It didn’t make me feel good, especially when I saw his face fall. Sure, I hated this line of conversation but I hated him knowing that I hated it more.

I also was starting to hate him, but that was a side-note. I’ve loathed people in the past and still listened to them speak. It’s just how I’m wired. This though was too much. I could feel my desire for this conversation to stop by any means necessary. It bubbled beneath my skin. Obviously I have a limit. Who knew?

“Oh. Okay. That’s okay. It’s just, you know, you’re the only guy I know who I could ask about this…”

This hung in the air for a moment or so. It was unbearable.

“Well apparently I’m the first so yes, that would make sense,” I said, eventually.

This investigation into uncomfortable territory looked set to continue when the door to the room opened. Oh my God. The lecturer. Thank you. Thank every conceivable and possible being who might have intervened on my behalf to bring this conversation to a close. You all have my eternal thanks. I will track you all down and personally shake each and everyone one of your hands. Assuming you even have any, you ineffable, unknowable beings, you.

Of course my being saved also involved my being in a lecture, but that was no bad thing. Learning is good, right? I even took notes, which is unlike me. I’m not good at writing things down while paying attention, typically I prefer to have things happen in little stages. This time I made an exception as it gave me a great excuse to pay as much attention to something else as possible.

And so it went. Never in my life had a lecture gone quite so slowly but it did eventually end.

I practically ripped the desk from the floor in my haste to pack my bag and leave. It was an effort not to trample the slower-moving members of the class on my way out and I burst through the door with the force of a thunderbolt. In my head, at least. In reality I probably just looked like a pushy, hasty bastard. This was an acceptable price to pay. It’s not like these people are going to remember me in a few years anyway, and I’d had enough for one day. Enough of everything.

I felt an urge to violence. How unlike me! I really did though. Something coiling thick and angry in my gut. The sort of thing that demanded immediate, uncomplicated resolution to frustrations! Which is to say, I rather wanted to punch that guy in the face. Repeatedly, if possible. Over and over again until whatever noises he happened to make came to an end.

But what had that ever solved? Very little. It would cause more problems! I wanted less of those, not more

I wouldn’t even know how to go about beating someone to a pulp in the first place. It’s just not something I’ve ever done before. Never even taken a swing in anger. Does this make me less of a man? Probably not. What even is a man? Many things. All of them subjective. So no, probably not less of a man. Silly question anyway.

So many questions though. Was I wrong to get angry about this? Or was I supposed to get angry about this?

No, wait, I got this one.

I’m angry that this guy is saying and thinking disgusting things about a friend of mine. That wasn’t so hard! It’s got nothing to do with me, but I can feel angry about things relating to someone I care about! Ah! That was easy once I thought about it, actually.

That’s a question answered then, and I remain angry.

Oh that guy though. That guy. What might he deserve? What would anyone deserve for such conduct? What would fit the bill?

Typically, this was where my anger starts running out of steam. Not that it comes upon me often. In the heat of the moment (which never last long) thoughts of vengeance are abundant and inventive but as temper inevitably cools some rationality sneaks in and everything suddenly seems so useless.

What positive benefit would doing horrendous things to someone actually bring to me? None. Not even satisfaction, really, at least not for me. Maybe that’s my fault. So my anger starts nowhere and goes nowhere, going around in ever-decreasing circles inside my head.

And anger without release sours to sadness. Or something a lot like sadness. This heavy, smothering feeling of uselessness that seems to blanket everything and make it impossible to so much as lift a finger without effort. Or maybe that’s just me? Other people seem to get along with their lives just fine so it might just be me. Nothing would surprise me.

So no. No anger please. Even though I know it’s too late. No more dark thoughts of what unpleasant people might ‘deserve’. No good will come of it. Though it’s far too late. Far far too late. All smothered now. Oh well. Best to soldier on. No other choice, really.

There was a lot of talk these days about ‘deserving’ things, I’d seen. Though usually the context I’d seen it in recently was considerably less threatening than the use of ‘deserve’ I’d grown up seeing. Which was a good thing, I guess?

Nowadays it was more like people assuring other people that they deserved this nice thing or deserved that nice thing. Happiness, love, appreciation and things of that nature. Warm, fuzzy things. I didn’t really want to argue the point with the sort of people who said this - because they’d be articulate and able to easily best me and I’d just go away feeling worse - but this was not something I agreed with.

Don’t get me wrong, I love the idea. It’s very nice and comforting to think that people have something innate and inborn within them that as intrinsic worth and value and which cannot be harmed or dampened or reduced by whatever happens in the outside world. That anyone can be loved, can be happy, and that nothing standing in the way of this cannot be overcome. I just don’t really think it’s true. Though I am using myself as the basis for this, so I could just be an outlier.

No-one deserves anything, you see? As that implies the universe owes people or that people are endowed with something intangible but which somehow still has value. Which is cobblers. People are meat - or in the case of living-machines, metal. Everything after this is invented. These inventions have value, sure, but no true power. They have as much power as people are willing to put into them.

Which I suppose gives them power? What point am I making here? Uh. Power as far as it runs up against reality, at which point it may well crumple. Yeah.

A boat is meant to carry you across water. Saying this to yourself while it sinks is not going to change that it is sinking. Saying that someone deserves to be happy while they are miserable is a lovely gesture but ultimately meaningless. Of course they deserve to be happy. Of course they do. Everyone does. But the universe does not care. These nice things aren’t due to come to you, you have to get them. And sometimes you can’t. And that’s not your fault, though it may well actually be your fault. If you’re me, for example.

I think the reason why I wouldn’t argue with these people is because I’m arguing with them while mostly, obliquely agreeing with them. That’s always a good way to lose an argument before it starts - agree with the other person. I think I’m just arguing to hold onto an excuse to feel miserable.

What am I even talking about.

Maybe I’m just unhappy. I doubt I’m thinking clearly.

I kind of want everything to just stop.

I don’t even know what I’m saying anymore.

I don’t want to admit I’m sad because then I’d feel obliged to do something about it. I can’t tell anyone I feel sad because then they’d know and they’d feel obliged to help me and then when they failed it would be my fault. Not fair to put anyone through that.

So no. Relentless positivity. That’s me. Not sad at all.

Time to go home.

#Colder harder hugs #cold hard hugs #amwriting #writing #writeblr

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hawksmoor17 · 8 years

Note

I'm watching Doctor Who "dinosaurs in space" rn and all I can think of is that Lestrade is now an archaeologist. Also, earlier while watching another episode, it occured to me that Moffat likes the "it's all in their head plot twist". It's not impossible (or totally probable) that he used it once again in TFP.

Okay. So. I’m kind of freaking out right now, because your ask has just triggered my memory and I think I’ve stumbled across something incredibly important!

Now, if you haven’t seen Doctor Who, bear with me because I seriously think that this is a massive clue as to what’s been going on in season four.

We already know that Moffat’s written Sherlock into Doctor Who before.

I’ve considered a dream-sequence type thing as well. Not because of “Dinosaurs in Space”, though, but because of the episode “Amy’s Choice”.

Just to get this out of the way, I’m not sure whether TST/TLD are entirely constructed or not. It’s quite possible that they are partially real, partially fake. I highly suspect that TD-12 is the culprit in this case.

To anyone who hasn’t watched Doctor Who, but is following along with the conspiracy, I highly recommend watching “Amy’s Choice” stand alone because it’s got some crazy Sherlock parallels and will also give you a bit of an idea of Moffat’s particular brand of rug pull.

The basic premise of the episode is that it focuses around reality being contingent upon a single choice.

In this case, the Doctor’s companion, Amy, has to choose between either staying with her spouse Rory, or “the madman” aka., the Doctor. Remind you of someone?

The antagonist / bad guy of the day “The Dream Lord” traps the Doctor and Amy within a shared dream where they wake up in another reality in which Amy chose her husband Rory over the Doctor. They are both happily married, Amy is pregnant, and neither the Doctor nor Amy realise that they are dreaming at first.

Oh yeah. And The Dream Lord? He’s played by Toby Jones. How about those parallels?

Over the course of the episode the Dream Lord makes the Doctor and Amy wake up over and over again in both the reality in which Amy chose Rory, and the reality in which Amy chose the Doctor.

In the reality in which Amy chose Rory they are being chased down by aliens, and in the reality in which Amy chose the Doctor they are in the TARDIS about to be frozen to death by a nearby astrological phenomenon. A bit of a catch 22, then.

But the catch is that if you die in the dream, you wake up in reality.

Amy has to then choose which reality she thinks is real or a dream, in order to kill herself and finally wake up.

I think this merging of dream and reality has been occurring on and off for Sherlock since his hospitalisation in His Last Vow.

Remember all the weird discrepancies and surrealist elements within season four? We get the same thing happening in “Amy’s Choice”, when the Doctor is trying to figure out whether they’re dreaming or not:

“The Doctor: Examine everything. Look for all the details that don’t ring true.Rory Williams: OK we’re in a spaceship that’s bigger on the inside than the outside.Amy Pond: With a bow tie-wearing alien.Rory Williams: Maybe “what rings true” isn’t so simple.The Doctor: Valid point.”

Meaning the glowing skull / lamp hell / OOC character behaviour / reused lines of dialogue all point towards constructed memories.

Moving along, where things get really incriminating is when you consider that the big reveal at the end of the episode: The Dream Lord is actually the physical manifestation of the Doctor’s darkest fears and insecurities.

“The Doctor: Drop it! Drop all that. I know who you are.Dream Lord: Of course you don’t.The Doctor: Of course I do. I’ve no idea how you can be here, but there’s only one person in the Universe that hates me as much as you do.”

“Sherlock Holmes: The point I’m trying to make is that I am… the most unpleasant, rude, ignorant, and all-round obnoxious arsehole that anyone could possibly have the misfortune to meet. I am dismissive of the virtuous, unaware of the beautiful, and uncomprehending in the face of the happy. So if I didn’t understand I was being asked to be best man, it is because I never expected to be anybody’s best friend…”

Just like the Doctor, Sherlock’s biggest weakness, central to the type of character he is, is loneliness.

The Doctor is so afraid of being alone that he conjures up a monster that traps he and Amy in a reality contingent upon her leaving him.

So to sum up the parallels, we’ve got …- The Doctor // Sherlock- Amy’s choice // John’s choice (post HLV)- Amy’s Pregnancy // Mary’s Pregnancy — The Schrodinger’s Baby dilemma- The Dream Lord // Culverton Smith // (John) // Sherlock- Additionally Billy Kincaid (mentioned in TSoT) mirroring Culverton Smith as well - Possibly The Dream Lord // Eurus // Sherlock

Relevant quotes/references:

Amy // John

Amy is referred to in Doctor Who as “the Girl Who Waited”. She meets the Doctor when she’s young, and he promises to come back and save her, but due to the TARDIS malfunctioning accidentally disappears and only comes back years into the future when she’s already grown up. (Paralleling Reichenbach.)

This theme of the Doctor leaving Amy behind because it’s in his nature/that’s just the sort of man he is really links into John and Sherlock’s dynamic. John thinks that Sherlock is always abandoning him both literally (TRF) and emotionally (THoB, ASiB, etc.,) because he’s a “sociopathic genius”, it’s just who he is, when really, unlike the Doctor, Sherlock is only being forced away from John due to Moriarty.

“Dream Lord: Poor Amy. He always leaves you, doesn’t he? Alone in the dark. Never apologises.Amy: He doesn’t have to.Dream Lord: That’s good. Because he never will. And now he’s left you with me. Spooky old not-to-be-trusted me. Anything could happen.Amy: Who are you and what do you want? The Doctor knows you, but he’s not telling me who you are. And he always does. Takes him a while sometimes but he tells me. So you’re something different.Dream Lord: Oh, is that who you think you are? The one he trusts?Amy: Actually, yes.”

“Amy: I love Rory and I never told him. And now he’s gone.”

“John: Just text her, phone her, do something while there’s still a chance, because that chance doesn’t last forever. Trust me, Sherlock, it’s gone before you know it. Before you know it!”

In Doctor Who, in order to make the right choice Amy must choose Rory over the Doctor, the man she loves over the man she is infatuated with.

In this case, Sherlock, although he parallels the Doctor, also parallels Rory.

Sherlock // the Doctor

What does the Doctor say the first time he, Amy, and Rory are together again?

“The Doctor: Now. We all know there’s an elephant in the room.”

And what is he referring to? Amy think’s it’s her pregnancy, but the Doctor makes a joke and says that he’s talking about Rory’s terrible choice of hairstyle. Of course, that’s not what he’s actually talking about. The real elephant in the room is the fact that Amy is standing between the two men she loves and has to choose between.

Weather Metaphors: “The Oncoming Storm” vs. “The East Wind”

Within Doctor Who we have the extended metaphor of the Doctor being referred to as “the Oncoming Storm” which can be seen as paralleling the “East Wind” in Sherlock, which is very likely referring to himself, namely his emotions.

“The Doctor: Someone—something—is overriding my controls!Dream Lord (Toby Jones): Well that took a while. Honestly, I’d heard such good things. Last of the Time Lords. The Oncoming Storm. Him in the bowtie.”

“The East Wind is coming, Sherlock. It’s coming to get you.“

And in mythology ... “Eurus is God of the East Wind. He was thought to bring warmth and rain, and his symbol was an inverted vase, spilling water. His Roman counterpart was Vulturnus.” [x]

From The Blind Banker:

“Sherlock: Someone else has been here. Somebody else broke into the flat and knocked over the vase, just like I did. John: You think maybe you could let me in this time? Can you not keep doing this, please?Sherlock: I’m not the first.”

Plus Sherlock drinking from the vase in TLD:

Conclusions

”Amy’s Choice” provides a conceptual basis for what is likely going on in Season Four.

Where Toby Jones represents the darkness within The Doctor as The Dream Lord, it is possible that Culverton Smith at times represents the darkness within Sherlock. At the very least this also links into how other characters such as Faith/”E”/Eurus/Mary can sometimes be seen as representations of characters’ psyches.

Amy’s baby, aka., Mary’s baby, is likely existent in one reality and non-existent in another. Season four shows us a reality where Rosamund does exist so we know certain scenes are not real, just like how Amy’s pregnancy is not real.

Amy’s choice between the Doctor and Rory parallels John’s choice between Sherlock and Mary. In S4 Sherlock’s worst fears to do with loneliness are being projected into reality, just like the Doctor’s, likely because of TD-12, which parallels The Dream Lord’s “psychic pollen”.

Within “Amy’s Choice” Amy and the Doctor are presented with three separate realities. There’s the real world, the fake real world on the TARDIS where Amy chose the Doctor, and the fake world in the village where Amy chose Rory. Due to this I think it’s quite likely that there are multiple layers of unreality we are seeing in season four, just like when Sherlock wakes up into fake reality in TAB and goes to dig up Emelia Ricoletti’s body.

This makes even more sense considering the fact that TAB can be seen as a key for understanding season four. Dreams within dreams within dreams.

@worriesconstantly @jenna221b @teapotsubtext @drugsbust @my-relaxation @timey-wimey-consulting-dragon @misanthropic-acedia @theveryunnecessaryfeelings

#sherlock meta #tjlc #tfhc #long post beware

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tuthillscopes-blog · 8 years

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Your Brief And Far-Out Guide To Afrofuturism

check it out @ https://tuthillscopes.com/your-brief-and-far-out-guide-to-afrofuturism/

Your Brief And Far-Out Guide To Afrofuturism

“Time is that this really fluid factor. Now’s now, however the past has become and also the future too.”&nbsp

This is the way curator and anthropologist Niama Safia Sandy describes the main concept of Afrofuturism, a cultural aesthetic mixing aspects of sci-fi, magical realism and African history.

The artistic, musical and literary movement is frequently tracked to jazz composer and cosmic philosopher Sun Ra, who, attending college within the 1930s, were built with a hallucinatory experience of that they was kidnapped, introduced to planet Saturn and proven a prophetic future.

“My entire body altered into another thing. I saw through myself. And That I increased … I wasn’t in human form … I arrived on the planet which i recognized as Saturn … they teleported i and me was lower on [a] stage together. They wanted to talk to me. They’d one little antenna on every ear. Just a little antenna over each eye. They spoken in my experience.Inch

However the actual term Afrofuturism was initially utilized by critic Mark Dery in the 1994 essay “Black towards the Future,”&nbspwhich examined why there have been so couple of black sci-fi authors at that time, because of the genre’s inextricable links to another and existence around the margins.

“Can a residential area whose past continues to be deliberately applied out, and whose powers have subsequently been consumed by the quest for legible traces of their history, imagine possible futures?” Dery asks within the text.&nbsp”In addition, isn&rsquot the unreal estate for the future already of the technocrats, futurologists, streamliners, and hang designers — white-colored to some man — who’ve engineered our collective fantasies?”

Underdog

Afrofuturism is frequently considered like a cultural genre or style, a re-imagining of African tradition that projects techno-advanced options. However for Sandy, the movement is greater than a literary genre — it’s real existence.&nbsp”It&rsquos not only an ideological factor, it&rsquos how people live,” Sandy described towards the Huffington Publish. “Magical realism can be used to speak about literature from the other, literature from virtually everywhere except free airline. However I want to isn&rsquot only a literary genre, it&rsquos the way we comprehend the earth&nbsp– an ambulatory cosmology, the way we undertake the planet.Inch

Sandy describes how — with the lens of Afrofuturism — certain myths, signs, colors and feelings have grown to be like literary symbols to become decoded. How background and nature have grown to be texts to become construed.&nbsp”Becoming an adult, when we walked outdoors also it was sunny and out of the blue it began raining, to my mother, that will mean something,” she states. “It&rsquos this imbued in everything that you simply do. That’s something that’s been passed lower to all of us through generations through our ancestors.”

Within the last 2 yrs, Sandy continues to be curating an exhibit known as “Black Magic: AfroPasts/AfroFutures,” featuring multidisciplinary visual artists in the African Diaspora. Photographers just like a. Delphine Fawundu deconstruct ideas for example black femininity, exploring its relationship to memory and history in her own photographs, a few of which were photographed around the plantation where Nat Turner’s Rebellion happened. “There’s lots of searching back and searching forward happening within this work,” Sandy stated. “Celebrating individuals journeys whether or not they are intentional or forced journeys.”

Beyond Fawundu, artist like Roger Bonair-Agard contributed video installations and poems, like&nbsp”How the World Was Made — a Super Crown.” Bonair-Agard’s poem involves the standard West African character Anansi&nbsp–&nbspa spider, a god, along with a figure utilized in children’s fables told all over the diaspora. “Within the poem, he’s Anansi, finding out how to move from as being a spider to as being a person,” Sandy stated. “It connects these ideas in the folklore and tales we have developed with.”

Delphine Fawundu, Mende Lady around the Nat Turner Plantation, South Hampton, Veterans administration #8, 2014. In the photographer’s Deconstructing SHE series / ODDKINCREATE, THINK AHEAD, 2013 MIXED MEDIA

Within an exhibition statement, Sandy summarizes the essence from the exhibition, an enchanting conjuring of past and offer forces: “Intersections of history, present and future grounded within the magic which was already within the soil, in mid-air, handed down by our ancestors through breath, bonds, bloodstream, ritual well as we discovered the Atlantic many of these many occasions. We feature it around wheresoever we go — this abundant color, rhythm, swagger … Due to this, we hear and see magic in everything across water, space and time.”&nbsp

Awaiting her “Black Magic” exhibition, Sandy shared a few of her favorite authors, artists and musicians adding towards the Afrofuturist vision. Continue reading for any far-out summary of the ruling makers of black magic.&nbsp

Octavia Butler,&nbspauthor

“Who shall we be held? I’m a forty-seven-year-old author who are able to remember as being a ten-year-old author and who expects at some point to become an 80-year-old author. I’m also easily asocial — a hermit … A pessimist if I am not careful, a feminist, a Black, an old Baptist, an oil-and-water combination of ambition, laziness, insecurity, certainty, and drive.”

Books to see:&nbspKindred, Parable from the Sower, Fledgling

Malcolm Ali via Getty Images

American sci-fi author Octavia E. Butler (1947-2006).

Ytasha Womack, author

“Mainstream feminism may need a feeling of balance that Afrofuturism has around expression. Afrofuturism is extremely nonconformist and often I feel like mainstream feminism wants women to convey their liberation in very specific methods to particularly counter damaging narratives produced by men. Afrofuturism doesn&rsquot create towards anything. Consequently, women Afrofuturists can do what they need and just how that turns up is distinctively individual …&nbspSelf-expression in Afrofuturism isn’t about making a statement, it’s about being.“

Book to see:&nbspAfrofuturism: The field of Black Sci-Fi and Fantasy Culture

Amazon . com

Steven Barnes, author

“His mate Lamiya lay sunning around the hardwood deck using their kids, Aliyah and Azinza. Lamiya herself was descended in the Afar people around the shore of Lake Abbe in Old Djibouti. Just one aged servant, Yohela, had supported her about this trip, yet her hair, braided and beaded in to the intricate patterns usual for the Afar, never bore exactly the same configuration 2 days consecutively. 4 years Kai’s senior, Lamiya is at both face and make up the most stylishly sensual lady Kai had seen, and that he had admired her since childhood.” -from Zulu Heart

Books to see: Lion’s Bloodstream, Zulu Heart

Amazon . com

Nnedi Okorafor, author

“I&rsquove always had difficulty covering space. I’m greatly an earthling. I don&rsquot see myself ever departing the earth as i am alive (I might become more adventurous once i die, heh). There’s a lot yet to uncover (and connect) on the planet, why look elsewhere? And my spiritual beliefs and also the systems of magic I&rsquom drawn to are earth-based, born and rooted deep within the soil. They aren’t within the ‘heavens.’ Also, after i talk about something, I must get and feel near to the subject. Irrrve never feel near to &ldquospace&rdquo, no matter how much research I do.“

Book to see:&nbspWho Fears Dying

Amazon . com

Maryse Cond&eacute, author&nbsp

“Paradise isn’t for me personally, I imagine an afterlife where we are able to express all of the feelings and needs we’ve needed to stifle during our lifetime: an afterlife where we’d be free finally to become ourselves. Since I had been little, I&rsquove wondered when the Christian religion isn’t a white-colored-folks religion designed for white-colored-folks, whether or not this&rsquos suitable for us who’ve African bloodstream within our veins.” -from&nbspWindward Heights&nbsp

Books to see:&nbspWindward Heights, Segu

Amazon . com

Ellen Gallagher, artist

“The main one area that is sensible to speak about race within my jobs are my concept of the subjective. Many people can stand before my work not getting any relationship into it, yet others can see the twelve signs, making cohesive readings according to either the formal or subjective characteristics they see. Whenever you make something, you permit yourself readings which are sometimes mistaken. Being an artist I&rsquom creating fiction on the top of the existing readability. It&rsquos that which you spoken about doing whenever you were a child with Colorforms or things i did like a kid, stapling layers of paper costumes onto my dolls, that improvisational layering, implying call and response. It&rsquos not about audience. There&rsquos a friction between your material made to be highjacked. It’s improvisational to create another readability through blindness, through a private act on hand with imagination.”

See much more of her work here.

Boston Globe via Getty Images

Artist Ellen Gallagher in the Institute Of Recent Art.

Underdog, artist

“My work is simply a method to recontextualize and stretch a persons eye.&nbspI flirt with images and produce them in to the ‘now chapter’ of reaffirming and envisioning ourselves.&nbspI would like to break peoples hearts and reassemble them in a single image.”

Underdog

Cyrus Kabiru, artist

“Becoming an artist, for me personally, was which i would be a digital rebel — I had been a little rude to everybody. I don&rsquot care. I don&rsquot follow what individuals want — I follow things i want. I don&rsquot enjoy people. I wish to go my very own way. And So I try everything the alternative to other people, plus they feel this person is a little a digital rebel. After I would be a young boy, grownups thought I had been a poor example. They accustomed to tell their children, ‘Work hard. Should you won&rsquot strive, you&rsquoll end up like Cyrus.’ I had been completely different. I had been forever in the house, doing art, painting and making sculptures, with no one understood things i was doing. I didn&rsquot study, I used shaggy clothes. For them it had been a little weird. I didn&rsquot know Sunday, I didn&rsquot know Monday, I didn&rsquot know.&nbspIn Africa, we live in a package.”

See much more of his work here.

Thanks to the artist and SMAC Gallery

Cyrus Kabiru

Lina Viktor, artist

“I&rsquove been obsessive about gold. I believe humanity in general happens to be obsessive about gold. It&rsquos been valued and revered and sacred. It&rsquos a kind of commerce now. I&rsquom some an astrophysics nerd I truly love stuff concerning the world and researching the foundation of metals. I understand that gold, for instance, is made of the dying of the star — a supernova. So essentially, all of the gold which has have you been found on the planet today are only able to easily fit in three Olympic-sized pools. It&rsquos really a percentage — it&rsquos a really scarce resource, hence why, I&rsquom sure, it’s a lot value. However I think there’s something a lot more implicit in the need for gold — if you notice gold, real gold, it features a kind of emotional quotient into it that you could&rsquot really get if you use fake gold. There’s an emotional reaction when people see real gold.“

See much more of her work here.

Ben Gabbe via Getty Images

Lina Viktor

Sun Ra, composer, poet, philosopher

&ldquoI&rsquom a fantasy, I&rsquom exactly like you. You don&rsquot appear in this society. Should you did, your people wouldn&rsquot be seeking equal legal rights.&nbspYou&rsquore a fantasy. Should you be, you&rsquod possess some status one of the nations around the globe. I don’t come your way like a reality, I come your way like a myth because that&rsquos what black individuals are: myths. I originate from an aspiration the black man imagined lengthy ago.&nbspI&rsquom really a name delivered to you against your ancestors.&rdquo -From&nbspSpace is where

Books to see:&nbspThe Earth Is Condemned

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Janelle Mon&aacutee, music performer

“I am a cybergirl with no face a heart or perhaps a mind /&nbsp(an item from the man, I am an item from the man) /&nbspI’m a saviour with no race (with no face).” -from “Purple Stars Happy Hunting“

Albums: “The ArchAndroid,” “The Electrical Lady”

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Ibeyi, musicians

“Carry away my dead leaves Allow me to baptize my soul with the aid of your waters Sink my pains and complains Allow the river bring them, river drown them My ego and my blame Allow me to baptize my soul with the aid of your waters Individuals old means, so ashamed Allow the river bring them, river drown them” -from “River”

Albums: “Ibeyi”

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Blitz The Ambassador, music performer

“I have always felt hip-hop like a culture has not really yet accepted its worldwide roots.&nbspThe more I traveled, the greater I recognized that you have a specific role that I have to be playing, which role is all about bridging gaps and expanding the culture that I have been so fortunate enough to take part in. That’s why I went with the Ambassador.“

Albums: “Soul Digital rebel,” “Diasporadical”

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“Black Magic: AfroPasts/AfroFutures,” curated by Niama Safia Sandy,&nbspruns from April 24 until May 22, 2016 at Corridor Gallery in Brooklyn, New You are able to.

Find out more: http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2016/04/15/your-far-out-guide-to-afrofuturism-and-black-magic_n_9771738.html

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