#because i see so much stupid shit on my dash despite my best efforts to prevent it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

inkedtae · 4 years

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golden gills ⇾ jjk. [M]

𝓅𝒶𝒾𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔 ⇾ goldfish!hybrid jungkook x bratty!reader (f.)

𝑔𝑒𝓃𝓇𝑒 ⇾ e2l, smut with a sprinkle of fluff and a waterfall of filth

𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎 ⇾ Reader taunts Jungkook for being the new Teacher’s Assistant for her history class. She simply can’t stand a teacher’s pet. Jungkook can’t help but make her one.

𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉 ⇾ 7k

𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 ⇾ a shit ton of flith, hate-love sex, office sex, super bratty reader, thigh riding, hair pulling, spit play, pube play, panty sniffing, a tad bit of edging, oral (f. receiving), dom!jk, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), lots of spanking, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, pet names, a dash of puns here and there, lowkey crack, probs gonna need some (un)holy water.

𝒶𝓊𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓇'𝓈 𝓃𝑜𝓉𝑒 ⇾ extremely unedited. please do not leave hate towards me or any other readers. please do not copy, repost, or translate any of my work without my permission. currently on a kookie kick so get ready for some filthy (and occasionally fluffy) kookie content. if you have any request, please send them my way (i might consider another member). enjoy!

><> le playlist

He strut into class, a little notebook clutched in his large hands. You couldn’t help but notice how his veins popped out. Was he flexing or was that just simply always the state of his hands. His sharp nails, tips tinged orange, dug into the leather binding of the notebook while he spoke with your professor. You glared at him from your seat at the front. He must’ve felt the heat of your gaze as he rubbed the nape of his, looking over at you.

There, right there was the reason why you hate that man so much. That shit-eating smirk tugged on his pink lips, brownish-yellow eyes flickering between you and the professor. An annoyed sigh escaped you. He was too cocky for his own good. He may have radiated golden rays wherever he went. The yellowish-orange tint of his hair layered with strands of pink was undeniably eye-catching. You figured that if he was full fish and not just a hybrid, then that might be the colour of his scales. But, when that golden image was paired with his arrogant personality, you reminded yourself as your eyes bounced up and down his frame, he was insufferable.

Despite the golden hues of his species, Jungkook felt most comfortable in black. It was a trend you noticed immediately on him. His flowy, golden fin would stick out his shirt, lined along his spine, and tiny golden gills would rest in the hollows of his cheeks but he would only wear black. You hated how you knew that he only liked to wear loose fitted clothing because it looked great on him. It was all he wore so how could you not notice it, you tried to reason. That fact didn’t soothe your rage one bit, however, since it meant that you indirectly admitted to yourself that he always looked good.

That man is dangerous, you thought to yourself before turning back to your notes. You didn’t have much to write just yet, but you weren’t going to waste your last moments before class staring at Jeon Jungkook. You opted for doodling, gently scratching your orange pen within the margins.

“How come whenever I walk in I always catch you staring?” He asked, sitting a couple of seats to your right.

“Glaring,” you correct, not bothering to look up.

He chuckles to himself, the breathy sound confusing your heart and stunting your rage for a minute. “You’re giving me your attention either way, hun,” he replied. “And I barely had to do a thing.”

You stopped mid-stroke, looking up at him with that same glare before your eyes scanned across the classroom. You noticed empty seats peppered between others who were lucky enough to enjoy some peace before the lesson began. “There are other seats,” you muttered, turning back to your notebook.

Jungkook leaned back in his chair, tossing his notebook down on the table with a light thud. “I like this one,” he sighed as he pulled out a black pen from his pants. “I can see everything from here, and everyone can see me.”

You furrowed your brows at his words. What a cocky little shit; always needing to be the center of attention. “You’re an idiot,” you hissed, making the mistake of looking up at him again.

He met your annoyed gaze with a playful glint in his eyes. He had his tongue poking at his cheek, and a single brow raised as if asking if you truly meant that, as if warning you to try again. “Am I?” he challenged. “Or are you too busy concerned with me to realize how wrong that statement was?”

Your face scrunched with confusion as you tried your best to decipher his words.Why did he have to be so cryptic? Why couldn’t he just tell you what the hell he meant? Giving up, you were about to tell him how stupid he sounded when the professor began his lecture.

He welcomed the class, introduced himself and went over the course syllabus before turning to look at Jungkook. “And, if you have any other questions, please feel free to contact me or my TA this semester, Jungkook.” He then gestured for Jungkook to stand.

Fuck no.

Your face fell as he rose from his seat. Before he could even catch a glimpse of your pure shock and devastation, you schooled your features and looked back towards your professor. It all began to click now, why he spoke with the professor before class and why he sat at the front. He even tried to warn you, in his own stupid, idiotic, cryptic way. Did you really insult your TA? He was going to be grading your work for the next four months. You wanted to believe Jungkook wasn’t a total asshole but with the way he taunted you with that look in his eyes before the lecture started gave you pause.

Your face must’ve been revealing bits and pieces of your panic, despite your efforts, because you soon heard little breathy chuckles to your right. “Relax, hun. I won’t let it affect your final grade,” he whispered as the professor dived into his lecture. “This time.”

That little shit.

You had written your essay two weeks prior to the due date, which is a lot coming from you since you’re more of a pull an all-nighter the night before kind of girl. You had researched thoroughly about the topic provided, giving your own analysis on the wars and political practises of the West. You even quoted Karl Marx a few times, and this little shit only just passed you? You had an average to maintain and you knew your paper was not merely worth a passing grade. You even had your best friend, Namjoon, read it over and approve of the analysis, citations and writing style.

So the moment his office hours were available you made your way over. They were running during another one of your classes but fuck him if he thought you were going to let this slide. You weren’t sure what he was thinking but if this was all some power play, you were about to show him who the fuck was in charge.

“Jeon, you motherfucker,” you huffed in a way of greeting as you walked into his office.

Jungkook peeked up at you from his bowl, noodles hanging out of mouth. His eyes were a bit wider, cheeks puffed all too cutely as they were filled with food. He finished slurping his noodles as you shut the door. Though still completely furious, you couldn’t bring yourself to stop staring at his mouth. Something about those pouty, spice stained lips lit up your core and caused arousal to pool into your panties.

You let out a shaky breath, seating yourself across his desk as he pushed his meal away, directing his full attention on you. He sat back in his seat, that stupid smirk over taking his features.

“Yes?” He practically purred his response causing you to shift uncomfortably in your seat.

You tossed your graded paper on his desk, eyes unforgivingly boring into his. “What the fuck is this?” You asked in a calmer voice, but the anger was still ponet in your tone.

“You’re crappy paper I had the misfortune of reading,” he answered casually, like you just asked him about his day.

The original fire in your eyes, you somehow were able to maintain since entering this office, dimmed into disappointment. Was it really that bad? But, you worked on it relentlessly. You had at least hoped it would pique his interest. Even Namjoon told you the approach you took was unique and well-thought out. For Jungkook to say it was a misfortune to read wasn’t just a shot at your grade but a blow to your intelligence, your pride.

He must’ve noticed your change in demeanor as he sat up and sighed. He picked it up to look over it once again, but you ripped it out of his hand, crumpling it with, what you hated to recognize as, shame. “Don’t do me any favours, Jeon,” you all but warned through gritted teeth. “The grade speaks for itself. I can’t believe I thought someone as stupid as you would be able to understand something as layered and complex as this paper. The only thing crappy about any of this is the fact that I have a useless TA.”

Jungkook watched you with an unwavering gaze. “Watch your tone,” he grumbled, voice carrying more edge than those words ever did.

You’ll admit, it stunted you for a moment, but the pain still lingered. You released the creased assignment on his desk lazily, treating it like the afterthought he believed it was. “Or what?” You taunted, tilting your head slightly. “You’ll fail me?” Your voice dipped in and out of feigned sadness, sarcasm dripping with every word. “You’ll go tell your precious professor? Hmm, little pet?”

Jungkook shifted in his seat, inhaling sharply from his nose before standing up. Even from across the desk, he towered over you. “Behave, (Y/N),” he warned, poking at his cheek with his tongue.

His words meant nothing. You ignored the inner voice that reminded you that your behaviour was only getting this bad because his words actually meant more than you even wanted to acknowledge.

“You’re just a useless pet, a stupid little goldfish trying so desperately to look tough in those all black clothes,” you pressed on, gesturing to his shirt that sat atop his chest and biceps all too well. He circled around the desk as you continued, “you can’t even get me to treat you with respect. Better yet, I bet you can’t even get me off. You’re that fucking useless.”

How or why that sexual sentence slipped in was beyond you. You didn’t really have much time to think about anything, your mouth running on its own and leaving your mind to catch up. All you could see is him, him and those orange hues that lit around his muscular frame like a halo. You noticed him avoiding your gaze and you couldn’t help the teasing giggle that left your lips.

A brow quirked up as he looked at you through his lashes. You only just realized that they were tipped with bits of gold. “There’s nothing you can do,” you said, standing up for the sole purpose of leaning in and whispering, “little pet.”

Those two words triggered something dark inside him. He groaned out, in frustration or excitement - you weren’t sure, and crashed his lips into yours. You wished you could say you resisted at first, but you were melting into his touch immediately. All logic left you and the only thing you can recall from that moment was another rush of lust and desire soaking your panties. You knew you lost your better judgement when you shamelessly moaned into the kiss at the fact that his lips tasted like freshwater and whatever flavour of spicy noodles he was previously eating.

A rough hand tangled in your hair, tugging on it to pull you off his lips. You whined at the lost contact, surprising even yourself. You only caught a glimpse of his hooded eyes before he latched his lips onto your neck, setting fire to every inch of skin his mouth graced. Those eyes of his held a degree of rage and lusty fury all while little flicks of orange and gold swam within them. Had they always been like that? You never really got time to think about it before Jungkook bit at your flesh, unforgivingly nibbling and tugging only to slobber sweet kisses to soothe the sting.

Your hands clutched onto his shirt, desperate to recompose even an ounce of your dignity. As if he knew what you were up to, his chuckled, warm breath fanning your skin, prickling you all over with goosebumps. Your thighs pressed together tightly at the sensation, and you were thankful you opted for a skirt rather than jeans this morning, knowing very well that there would’ve been a wet stain near your crotch.

Jungkook inhaled deeply, parting from your neck to lick the shell of your ear. “You always smell so fucking sexy when you’re horny for me,” he raved.

“I’m never horny for you,” your pride answered all too quickly. You wanted to add that he was mediocre at best right now, no matter how big of a lie that was too, but couldn’t find the courage after he bit harshly on your collar bone then lapped his tongue over the sting.

“Don’t lie, pet,” he warned, smugly throwing your word back at you.

“I’m not your pe- shit!” You gasped when his lips landed on the shallow hollow of your collar bone. You tugged on his shirt once more, tilting your head back as he began to attack it. His kisses were absolutely sinful and you found yourself wanting them all over you as you rolled your hips into his.

Once he was satisfied with the dark mark he left, he slightly pulled back. He opted for moving you around by the grip he had on your hair. It earned him little blissful whines from you that he couldn’t help but laugh at. He yanked your body closer to his chest, your hands now resting on his shoulders as you somehow positioned your crotch over one of his thighs and quickly, shamelessly moved against it. Your actions surprised you as well; you didn’t realize you were this hot for him.

“What were you saying before, my precious pet?” He teased, hovering his pouty lips over yours. His free hand rested upon your ass, gripping and kneading the flesh like he was coaxing the answer out of you.

You bit your lip in denial of making a single sound. The notion wasn’t lost on him and he used his grip on your ass to halt your movements on his thigh. While you struggled to defy his silent orders, he held your body flush against his, keeping your clothed pussy trapped over his thigh with a single hand. You could feel his semi-hard against your lower belly as he smirked down at you. Had you not been in his grasp or too stubborn, you would’ve smacked that smirk off… with your lips.

Jungkook yanked at your hair so that you were looking up at him with lips slightly parted and eyes undoubtedly desperate. That was the thing with your eyes; you could never hide your true feelings from them.

His hot breath fanned over your chin as he muttered, “What happened to those cute little sounds, pet?” It took the last ounce of self control left in you to not to moan at his words. He continued to stare at you for a moment, admiring how, though you’re trying so hard not to show it, needy you were.

“Open your mouth, baby,” he cooed.

His voice was gentle enough for you to immediately comply. You parted your lips, looking up at him innocently. Though you knew what was coming next, your pussy clenching around nothing out of mere excitement, you did not pull away. In fact, you stuck your tongue out as he hovered his lips over yours and spat a stringy dollop of saliva into your mouth. It didn’t taste fishy at all, but simply, what you recognized as, him. You gazed into his eyes with lust-charged hate as you swallowed it without a second though.

He smiled, satisfied, and released your hair to let his hand slide down to your other asscheeks, moving both hands under your skirt now. A little hiss left him as he felt your wetness reach the back of your panties too. “You really are this horny for me, aren’t you, baby?” He questioned as he guided your clothed pusssy against his thigh once more.

“N-none of this is for you,” you stuttered. You tried to sound annoyed but the little moan in your tone hinted otherwise.

He nudged his nose on yours, mannerisms shockingly softer than his grips on your ass. “Want another?” He raised a brow.

When you remained silent, not wanting to admit that you most definitely wanted another wad of his spit in your mouth, he laughed. The corner of his wondrous eyes crinkled and he threw his head back, laughing at your silence. When his gaze met yours again, he bit his lip to subside the rest of his laughter, taking note of your furrowed brows and pouty lips.

Jungkook seemed to like the challenges you were offering. He slightly tilted his head, eyes suddenly seeming unreadable. It wasn’t like you were paying much attention to his logic anyway, yours long gone by now. No, you were focused on the pleasure, the built up arousal twisting in your lower belly just desperate to be released. You knew your pussy wasn’t usually that sensitive, sometimes finding that you needed to tug on your skin to really get yourself off. But, holy fuck-

“Jungkook!” You whined all too loudly as he flexed his thigh beneath you.

“Hmm,” he hummed, tone reaching dangerously cocky levels. You loved it.

Meek moans and whines poured out of your lips, like his name was the damn that held them back. Your grip on his shirt was sure to leave creases now, as you looked up at him, holding his gaze while you got yourself. You were passed pride now, ready to admit to yourself that you wanted to stare into those golden-brown eyes because, fuck, the simple sight was enough to make you cum.

Jungkook knew it. He knew you were close and squeezed your ass to let you know that. “Does my pretty pet wanna cum?” He lazily asked. The indifference in his tone was strangely enough to make you a slut for him; as if you weren’t already.

You couldn’t give him the satisfaction, however. You were far too stubborn for that. Breaking your gaze, you threw your head back and shut your eyes. The pleasure was all you wanted to focus on as you got so fucking clo-

“No!” The cry tore from your throat, breaking as it fell from your lips. He took advantage of the grip he had on your ass once more, trapping your pussy on his flexed, muscular thigh.

“Open,” he ordered.

You glared at him, sticking your tongue out with a huff. He spat another wad in your mouth, smacking your ass as you swallowed. The force jolted your body closer against his, now completely flush against his chest. Fuck, that chest. So strong and firm. You ran your hands up and down his pecs as he spoke.

“You close your eyes again, and I’ll have you on your knees,” he threatened. You moaned at his words, earned a quirk of his brow. “Fuck, baby, you’re such a slut for me.”

“When are you going to tell off that shirt?” You asked, the helplessness in your voice surprising you.

“When you ask nicely,” he teased, bringing his hand back down on your ass.

You leaned back just enough to tug on the hem of the loose shirt. He looked at you expectedly, actually believing you’d ask. A smirk found its way on your lips as your hands snuck beneath the cotton to rub up and down his skin. His breath hitched a bit at the contact, making you silently giggle to yourself. It was nice to know you weren’t the only one coming undone to soft touches.

He kept your hips locked in place, but began to move his thigh under you. You gasped feeling the pleasure build itself back up in your lower belly. Digging your nails gently into his skin, you scratched at his nipples. It seemed you were both rewarding the other for a tease well done as he returned the blissful gesture by quickening the pace of his thigh.

“J-Jungkook,” you whined, slowly bringing his shirt up higher and higher. His hands left your ass long enough for you to pull his shirt off and you took it as a sign to also be allowed to move again.

Giddy giggles left you as you got what you wanted and more, and you barely had to play nice at all. He was too consumed with getting you off to care, or so you thought. His hands came down on your ass with a force your pussy couldn’t ignore and you were sent into your first orgasm of the hour.

Jungkook chuckled to himself, watching your jaw clench as high-pitched squeals escaped you and your pussy released all over his pants. The wet mess emitted filthy, slouchy sounds, further imprinting the fabric and filling the space between you two wonderfully. You held his gaze all the same, riding out your high as your nails dug into his pecs. He hissed at the sensation but did nothing to stop it.

Your rapid rolls over his thigh stuttered against the friction, the pleasure starting to become too much for you. You halted your movement and quivered the last bits of our orgasm out. He peppered your face with little kisses all throughout, and you let him, whimpering for more.

Jungkook pulled back at your sounds just to flash you a smug smile. He helped you off him, standing you up again. You bit your lip to keep from whining at the loss of contact. Though you did get your release, you were hoping for more. Your eyes, too obviously, flickered between his abs and the bulge in his pants.

“If you want more, little pet, you’re going to have to strip for me,” he informed you. Jungkook held your fucked out gaze as he swiped a finger over the drenched spot of his pants to scoop up some of your release. You swallowed thickly at the action, watching as he sucked your cum off his finger.

“You’re going to have to ask nicely,” you all but whine as his adam’s apple bobbed.

His once playful teasing eyes seemed to be getting annoyed. The softness within them switched into something a bit darker. He was done with playing, and it only made you want to play with him even more.

“I’m waitin- ah,” you gasped as he ripped the buttons off your thin, tight sweater off, exposing that yellow bra of yours that cupped your tits all too well.

Jungkook towered his slender frame over you. “I don’t have to do anything,” he whispered, hovering his lips over yours. “Strip, little pet.”

You pulled your sweater off. A part of you wanted to reach up and just kiss him again. He was so close you could feel his breath against your parted lips. But, you knew better than to fully challenge that dangerous look in his eye. Your skirt was pushed down next, but you kept your panties on, slightly too embarrassed by the fact that they were sticking to your pussy. Reaching back behind you, you fumbled to unclasp your bra. Jungkook remained silent as he reached a single hand back there and undid it easily.

You thought it must have regained his composure, the thought slightly pissing you off since you were becoming more and more of a mess by the second. But, the moment your bra fell, he attacked your breasts, burying his face between them. His lips latched onto one of your nipples, tonguing, biting, sucking away at it. One of his hands rested on your hip to keep you steady, while his other gripped at your other tit, massaging the fuck out of it.

Your hands were lost somewhere in his orange-yellow hair, tugging at the long strands. You moaned his name repeatedly. Shameless and horny, you were loving his attention. “Oh, god, just fuck me,” you sighed.

He hummed against your nipple. “In a minute, babe,” he muttered between alternating tits, now latching his lips onto your other nipple.

From his slightly bent over position, you could see his fin lined along his spine. You wondered how it looked in the water, if it flowed within the waves like it did out of them. A hand reached over, gently grazing the ripped, but soft fin with the tips of your fingers. He shuddered against your touch, rolling his shoulders back but didn’t stop his tongue’s attack on your tits.

You whimpered against him, lightly scratching his scalp with one hand and rubbed up his fin with the other. “Jungkook,” you breathed. You were desperate, needy and in total need of another orgasm. And that was what you kept telling yourself as you stuttered, “p-please, kookie.”

Jungkook froze, mid-suck and looked up at you slowly. “My, my,” he smirked, abandoning your tits and straightening up to his full height once again. Your hand on his fin slid up to his shoulder once more, an action that disappointed him too, his eyes flashing something too needy to be masked by his cocky demeanor. “Begging already, baby?”

You pressed your thighs together, granting yourself the smidgen of friction he was hell-bent on denying you. “That was barely a beg,” you scoffed.

He shook his head at your words. “Shall we change that?” He lifted your hips before you could even respond and placed you on his desk. You were surprised he could lift you being that you were a grown ass woman and all.

He spread your legs, groaning quietly to himself at the sight of your cum slick thighs and sticky panties clinging to your folds. Placing a hand to his forehead, he lowered his head and took a deep breath.

You hated the sudden fear and panic of insecurity that shot through you. However, you couldn’t help but weakly ask, “s-something the matter?”

He nodded, meeting your gaze once more. “Yeah,” he sighed. You felt your heart drop, ready to close your legs when he continued, “those ruined panties haven’t come off yet.” A sigh of relief left you, your momentary panic bringing down all your walls with it as a blush tinted your cheeks.

Jungkook must’ve liked that sight too because he was proudly smiling to himself. “Let me help you with that, little pet.” He dipped his head between your legs, lapping up the cum that stained your inner thighs too, not too bothered by the slight discolouration of them.

Your legs were already trembling at the warmth of his mouth. He hooked his arms under both your legs, pulling your pussy closer to his face. Nudging his nose against your clothed clit, he inhaled your sinful scent. “God, this must be a fucking dream,” he muttered more to himself than to you in particular. “You smell even sexier when you fucking cum, babygirl.”

A whimper trickled out of your lips at his words as you gripped onto the edge of the desk. Little did you know that was merely the start of his filth. His mouth engulfed your clothed pussy in a single motion, licking and sucking the cum out of your panties. The hungry groans he made against your heat were boarderline pronographic. You were living for them, rolling your hips into his face relentlessly chasing after your next high.

Jungkook tsked against your panties as if warning you to behave again, then sunk his teeth into them, catching a bit of your folds too. You cried out his name, your nails scratching at the dark wood beneath you. He watched you intently as he pulled those ruined panties off. You lifted your ass for him a bit and brought your legs together as he leaned back.

He stood over you once they were off, the piece of clothing still locked in his jaw. Taking them out, he sniffed at them again. You pressed your thighs together once more, mesmerized by the sight before you. “Beautiful,” he rasped. Then he stuffed the wet, balled up panties in his pocket. “Mine now,” he explained, noticing the shock in your eyes. “Just like this pussy.”

Grabbing your ankles, he pulled you closer to the edge of the desk and spread your legs apart once more. A little blush crept up his neck as the mess before him. He moaned to himself, getting on his knees. You never knew you needed to see a shirtless Jungkook on his knees before. He looked heavenly but his tongue was hellish, licking a clean strip up your folds. You threw your head back as he sucked on your clit.

“Kookie,” you whimpered, having a lazy hand get lost in his hair again. You weren’t sure how or why you fell into that nickname, but you did and you weren’t planning on stopping.

He hummed up at you, also accepting the nickname like you’ve been calling him that forever. His tongue swirled around your entrance, teasing - always fucking teasing you. He’d poke the tip of his tongue in only to watch you shudder and immediately clench your walls. His mouth traveled a bit higher halfway through another assault on your clit.

“Can’t help it,” he muttered before licking at the short hairs a top your pussy. You blushed deeply at his actions. You had hoped he didn’t notice, but now seeing him practically lose himself over it, you felt a bit of pride swell in your chest.

Jungkook bit at the flesh, tugging the hair with him as he pulled back. He spat on your pubes just to lick it up against the hair again. You gasped, looking down at his filthy actions with pure lust in your eyes. He repeated this action a couple of times, noting how excited it made you then returned to the wetness between your folds.

“That really turned you on, huh baby?” He questioned watching as more of your wetness pooled out of your entrance. Diving right back in, he lapped up all the new arousal repeating the same flicks of his tongue over and over again. You couldn’t really grasp what the pattern was at first, but then it hit you all at once, forcing you to cry out in approval. He was licking his name against your entrance in Korean and English, poking his tongue into you with the dots of his js.

“M-marking your territory?” you questioned, trying to sound as confident and composed as he did but your moans kept getting in the way.

“I’d be drowning in it too if I wasn’t part fish,” he chuckled, fanning his warm breath against you. “Why don’t you prove me wrong, little pet?” His tone hinted that it was more of a suggestion rather than a challenge. “Cum for me.”

You were up for it either way, rolling your hips into his face. Nothing felt as sexy as when the little gills in the hollows of his cheeks brushed up against your inner thighs, slightly quivering at the contact. That unexpected sensation and the way Jungkook began to devour your pussy was enough to shock you into your second orgasm.

“Oh, fuck yes,” you cried out, moans tumbling out of you endlessly. Your eyes rolled back, head falling back with them as you quivered against his face. “Yes, yes, yes, yes,” you squealed as you rode your release to the end.

Jungkook flattened his tongue, letting you get yourself off on him. Once he was sure you finished spasming on his tongue, noting how your thighs started to squeeze his face as they came together, he flicked his tongue back into action. He lapped up your cum, swallowing every ounce of what you’d given him.

Sensitive and gasping for air, you attempted to weakly push his face off of you. It was an impossible task. He was too strong and too consumed with the task at hand, slurping your juices, unfazed and unbothered.

“Kookie… I… fuck,” you squealed, closing your legs around his face. He was practically suffocating against your pussy as he drank you up.

He suddenly, and very easily, pushed your legs apart as if you hadn’t just been using all your strength to close them. He got up, face glistening with a mixture of his saliva and your cum. He looked like a fucking goldfish god with his hair all tossel from your grip and face all smeared of your cunt. You wanted to clean it all up for him, but he wouldn’t give you a chance yet.

His thumbs slid into his waistband about to push his pants down when he caught a glimpse of you. You were looking all fucked out, trembling from the remnants of your last orgasm, legs curled up into your chest. “You’re gonna make me lose my mind,” he whispered, all hints of playfulness and teasing threats gone from his tone. He almost sounded sincere, almost sounded like he actually meant all those things he said, like it wasn’t all just words thrown in the heat of the moment.

You were panting quietly, not exactly sure what to say to that. You felt like you were saved by the exposure of his cock (on many levels) and pushed all thoughts away until you were back to your normal, rational state of mind.

His cock was huge, veiny, and leaking precum, desperate for some contact. You shakily slid off the desk, fully prepared to get on your knees for him and give his heavenly cock the attention it deserved. But Jungkook tsked at you, nodding his head back to the desk.

“Back on the desk, babygirl,” he grunted as he began to pump himself using the precum collected on his pink tip.

You leaned against the edge of the desk for some stability, swallowing thickly at the sight of his veiny hand around his veiny cock. Licking your lips, you met his gaze shyly as if silently asking him to reconsider.

Jungkook smirked, slightly buckling his hips into his hand. He gave himself a couple more pumps then set his hands on your hips to lift you back up on the desk again. “Be a good girl and I might consider letting you wrap that pretty mouth of yours around my cock next time,” he promised with a smile all too sweet for you to challenge.

“Next time?” You meekly questioned.

He positioned himself between your legs, that giddy smile still etched on his lips. He slapped his cock against your wet pussy a couple of times, making you whimper his name, before replying, “just behave, little pet, and you can have my cock down your throat anytime you want.” He then, without much further warning, sunk his cock into your entrance, hissing at the tightness.

“J-Jungkook,” you sighed, only now just realizing how fucking badly you really needed him to fill you up. Tears pricked your eyes at the pure blissful sensation of his cock stretching you out so fucking good.

Noticing your tears, he halted all movement. “Am I hurting you?” He asked, concern laced in his tone.

You shook your head immediately, all but begging, “keep going, please. Fuck, please kookie.”

He let out a sigh of relief and continued to sink into you until he bottomed out. You gasped, holding his gaze while your nails dug into his shoulders. He flashed you a golden smile before pulling out and ramming back into you at a sinful pace.

“S-so b-ig,” you choked out between harsh thrusts.

His face was contoured with pleasure, nose scrunched and brows furrowed in too cute of a way that you would’ve never even guessed he liked it this rough. “Ah-yah,” he gasped, overtaken by the clench of your cunt’s walls. “Tightest cunt I’ve had.”

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. He complied with little complaints and you leaned your forehead against his. Noses brushing, breath exchanging, Jungkook fucked you into the desk with such force, he jolted it back a bit with each thrust. You tilted your head enough to kiss his gills and whine against them. A smile graced his lips at the contact and he tightened his grip on your hips, his fingers digging into your soft flesh. You peppered each gill with kitten licks, then soft kisses despite how rough he was fucking you.

Your arms moved around his back, practically hugging him. Shaky hands found his fin again and tightly gripped onto it. He buried his face in your hair, evading his senses with the floral scent of your hair, and groaned out little praises in your ear. You bit at his shoulder, subsiding your moans into his skin. You knew you weren’t exactly behaving, leaving little marks on his shoulder, but you also knew Jungkook was too engrossed with how your cunt gripped on his cock to care too much.

All rough kisses and bites on his shoulder came to a crashing halt, however, when he hit that spot deep within you. “Jungkook!” You shreeched, throwing your head back. He hit it again and again. Each time he hit it harder and rougher, coaxing you closer and closer to your release.

You rested your forehead against his again, wanting to stare into his eyes when you came all over his cock this time. “There, there,” you encouraged, moving your hips up to meet his. The entire room returned the quick slaps of skin on skin in faint echoes, reminding you just how filthy this was.

“Your close, aren’t you, little pet?” Jungkook asked as your cunt tightened around him. “Wanna cum, babygirl?”

You nodded your head eagerly, toes curling as that knot in your lower abdomen twisted in ways you weren’t completely familiar with.

“Beg.”

“W-what?”

He chuckled and smacked your ass. You gasped, gawking at him in disbelief. “Beg.” he ordered. “I won’t repeat myself again.”

You squealed in frustration. “P-please Jungkook,” you started. “Your cock is so big… just wanna cum all over it. I- ah, I need to cum. Please, just please let me cum, kookie. Please!”

“Cream on this cock, babygirl,” he growled in approval.

You unraveled all you had to give him, cumming on his cock as he continued to ram into you in an unforgiving pace. You held his gaze all the while, shrieking moans and trembling whines escaping you. Your eyes slightly rolled back, mouth hung open as you tried your best to maintain eye contact.

“Ah, fuck! You- you’re so fucking sexy when you cum, baby.” He gasped, thrusts getting sloppier.

Though you were being overstimulated once again and felt the blissful burning of your after-high start to creep up on you, you still talked Jungkook into his orgasm. “Please fill me up, kookie,” you started, but never really got to finish as that was all it took for him to release ropes of white within you.

You ground your hips into his as he buried himself deep in you. His brows knitted together, eyes just as needy as yours, cumming deep inside you. You knew he was cumming a lot just from how full you felt, but his cock was so huge, fitting your cunt just right, that it plugged all his cum in you, no remove for leaks.

You circled your hips into his as he gasped for air, panting his hot breath over your face. “You’re so handsome when you cum,” you whispered, filter completely gone by now.

Jungkook huffed a little smirk. He nudged his nose against yours before placing a gentle kiss against your lips. It was all over, the heat of the moment, the need for a release. Still, you kissed him back like it was a normal pastime. His tongue played with yours and you let him. It was like you two already had a routine of rough sex and intimate aftercare. And, shockingly enough, you didn’t find that off-putting at all. In fact, you realized you could actually get used to this, used to him like this.

He pulled away, gasping once again. You joined him this time, slowly untangling yourself from him. You hadn’t even felt him soften inside you, practically just as big as when he was hard. You both gazed down at his cock, watching as he pulled it out to find it coated in a mixture of your cum, completely creamed. The cum plugged within your cunt came pouring out in thick glopes all over your graded paper.

“Shit,” you whispered, watching your paper being ruined. “Now, that’s never going to the professor,” you huffed, looking up at him again.

He bit his lip and scratched the back of his neck. “About that,” he began. “That’s actually not your real grade.”

A mixture of confusion and rage clouded your once sex-blown gaze. “What?”

“I may have given you another copy of your paper with a crappy grade just to get under your skin,” he confessed. He rested his hands on your thighs, rubbing them gently as if trying to calm you down.

It worked.

You raised a brow up at him. “Were you trying to get me naked?”

Jungkook blushed, softly chuckling. “That was just as wonderful a surprise to me as it was to you.”

You held his gaze for a moment, finding comfort in the silence and his cute smile. “It was wonderful,” you muttered.

“No one has touched my fin or gills like that,” he suddenly said, a blush tinting the tips of his ears.

“Like this?” You asked as you leaned in to stroke his fin and kiss his gills once more.

His hands found their place on your bruised hips and he hummed, “mhm,” before peppering your neck with sloppy kisses again. “Now get that pretty ass of yours off my desk.” He lifted you up only for you to wrap your legs around his waist. He laughed at your childish antics, holding you up by a newfound grip on your ass. “Come on, (Y/N),” he chuckled.

You pulled back only a bit with a pouty smile playing on your lips. “Make me,” you whined.

Jungkook smirked. “As you wish, little pet.”

#jeon jungkook #jeon jungkook smut #jeon jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #hybrid jeon jungkook #hybrid jeon jungkook smut #hybrid jeon jungkook fluff #hybrid jungkook #hybrid jungkook smut #hybrid jungkook fluff #bts jeon jungkook #bts jungkook #bts smut #bts fluff

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ohgodmyeyes · 3 years

Text

Freezing

Anakin gets hit by a train, and dies in the arms of a stranger.

You are the stranger.

Modern AU. 2.7k words. Bad writing.

TW: Suicide

...

"You're awfully handsome— did you know I've never met such a handsome guy before in my whole life?"

"You're just saying that."

You laughed, despite the fact that the tears you happened to be shedding were threatening to freeze to your face. "No— no, Anakin, I'm not just saying that."

It was dark and it was snowy, and you were all by yourselves at a sparse, semi-rural railway crossing. You were looking down on him right now, holding his head in your lap; his face was dimly illuminated by a few old, halogen street lights. There hadn't been time for you to get to learn very much about him, but it would have been clear from even the most cursory glance in his direction that Anakin was a lovely man... and so that was what you focused on. Even though his face had now been rendered as stark-white as the snow surrounding you, and even though his eyes were presently brimming with fear, you could hardly have used any word to describe him that was not synonymous with 'beautiful'. That shouldn't have made this any more sad or wasteful than it already was, but it did. Somehow, it did.

"Why are you doing this, anyway?" he asked, having begun to sound a bit weak.

"It's nothing," you lied. "You seem like the kind of person who would do this for someone else, so I think I should do it for you." The snow you'd thought was so pretty only a few minutes ago was landing on him; you moved to brush some of it off of his shoulder. The gesture was both gentle and useless.

He chuckled at that, as best as he could chuckle. "I seem like that kind of person to you?"

With an emphatic nod, you answered him, "You do— you really do."

He did. You'd been standing near the tracks appreciating the snowfall when you first saw him; the railway signs had just started to blink, and you could hear the sound of the train engine's horn blaring as it approached. You thought someone had left garbage on the tracks; a big bag of it. As you had admonished the offending litter-bug in your head, though, you noticed the end of the dark bundle start to move; that was also when you realized that it seemed to have both a head of hair and a face, too.

By the time you'd recognized Anakin for what he was— a person laying across the tracks— the train had been nearly upon him. You dashed toward him anyway; grabbed his jacket in an effort to try and pull him away, but you couldn't. You wouldn't realize until later that he had most likely been gripping the rails with his fingers, actively preventing you from rescuing him. He didn't say anything while you tugged on his coat; as the train whooshed by your face, you recoiled. As soon as it had passed, though, you leapt back to his aid in spite of the fact that you knew it was much too late.

The train, for its part, didn't stop— it just carried on into the night. There were so many little bushes and piles of dead wood alongside the tracks; maybe the engineer hadn't realized what had happened. Maybe he, like you, had thought the man in his path was just a pile of trash.

You tried as hard as you could not to look, but of course you couldn't help yourself: Everything below the middle of his chest had been decimated as the wheels of the engine had passed over him. It had been going so fast that it seemed to have torn him right in half. His legs were hardly even recognizable as legs anymore (save for the boots on his feet), and his midsection had been all but ripped apart. There was blood on the snow and blood on the rails; blood everywhere, really, although to look at his face you might have thought he was going to live. His eyes, after all, were open... and again, they were wide with fear.

"Why?" was the very first thing you had asked, somehow summoning the strength to lift (albeit with shaking hands) his head onto your lap. You were sitting on your knees in the snow; your own legs were cold, but you didn't care. You should have been panicking: Screaming, shouting, running for help. You weren't, though, maybe because you understood that there was nothing to be accomplished by doing so. Maybe you were just in shock.

It was by then that you realized you could smell the blood— rich, coppery, pungent. You didn't want to smell it, but you did anyway; kept your eyes fixed on his face so you wouldn't have to see it as well.

"I was too scared to put my head on the rail," he said, not really answering your question. "I still thought I'd be dead by now, though. How bad is it; can you see?"

"It's... well, it's pretty bad," you told him, without having to look again. "I just don't understand why—"

"My wife died," he said. He clearly understood what it was you wanted to know. You had no idea how he was still talking; still conscious. You were afraid to peer back down the length of his body, because you'd already glimpsed more than enough.

"Your wife?"

"I always used to tell her I couldn't live without her."

"You weren't joking, were you?"

"I don't tell jokes. Not lately, anyway."

You didn't doubt that was true. You might have asked what happened to his wife; how she died, or maybe what she'd been like. You didn't need to look to know you didn't have time for that, though, so you just asked for his name. You wanted to know his name.

"It's Anakin," he said. "My name is Anakin."

"That's a nice name. It suits you." You paused, and reached into the pocket of your coat to look for your phone, only to find that there was nothing there. You must have left it at work; you'd been coming home from work when this had all started. It didn't matter, though; a phone wouldn't have helped. Anakin was going to die no matter what you did. Maybe that was why you weren't running away, although by then you'd started to cry. You couldn't help but cry.

"A name's a name," he told you. If he could have shrugged, you thought he might have. "My mom must have thought it suited me, too."

"Well," you said, "I think she was right."

You had told him next that 'Anakin' was a handsome name, and that he was handsome too. After that was when he had said to you that he thought you were 'just saying that', and asked you why you were sitting with him. Again, your answer hadn't been a lie; he did seem like a kind person... so why the hell would he have done this? Losing his wife didn't strike you as being a good enough excuse to erase himself from existence... but then, you didn't know him. Surely, though, there had been more to his life than only her. Didn't he have anybody else?

"Why is this taking so long?" he asked, his face finally having begun to betray the seriousness of his injury. You glanced down even though you didn't want to; the blood was freezing into the snow, and the shredded remnants of his lower half had ceased giving off much steam.

"Probably because it's so cold outside," you said. The cold slowed everything down, from cars to rot to human bodies.

"I always hated the cold," he told you with a smile. How was he laughing and smiling right now, anyway? You didn't understand it. Maybe he was delirious from the blood he'd lost, or maybe he was just happy he was about to die. There was no way to tell. He still looked scared, though; if he had any trepidation, it was his eyes that betrayed it: Even if he wasn't frightened, they certainly were.

"You must not be from around here," you said, trying as best you could to smile back at him. It was cold, sometimes, for half of the entire year where you lived— cold, and dark too. Months of winter meant that most people who were born here grew accustomed to the climate when they were very young.

"No," he confirmed. "I'm— shit!"

His exclamation made you jump, although you tried not to jostle him too much. "What?" you asked. "What's wrong?" How stupid a question was that?

"I-I... I don't know. I thought it would hurt, but it doesn't hurt. It's just cold. Are you cold?"

"Freezing," you said, glancing one more time down the length of his body in spite of yourself. The blood closest to you was so dark that it was almost black, in sharp contrast to the bright red spray marring the snow all around. You thought you could see bits and pieces of a few of his internal organs scattered about the wood between the rails, but you didn't really know much about what people looked like from the inside, so you couldn't be sure. You took a deep breath then, trying to steady yourself.

"I'm g-glad I'm n-not the only o-one," he stammered.

"You're definitely not the only one, Anakin. I'm cold, too. We're both cold." The type of cold you were experiencing and the type of cold he was experiencing were two very different kinds of cold, of course, but you didn't want him to feel alone. Not at a time like this.

"I th-think... I-I mean, I think I'm a-almost..."

You nodded, and touched the side of his face; stroked it gently with your thumb. "You are," you said. "I think it's almost over."

"Th-that's a-all I w-wanted. I... I wanted this to be—" He interrupted himself then with a halting, ragged-sounding groan. You waited a moment for him to resume speaking, but he didn't. His mouth opened and closed uselessly as he looked up at you; when it was agape, you were sure you could see blood bubbling up from the back of his throat.

"Shh— don't talk anymore, Anakin, it's alright. It's alright." It wasn't alright, but what else were you supposed to say?

He nodded for you, and breathed as deeply as he could. His breathing sounded terrible.

"Can I tell you something?" you asked, because you thought it might help if you kept talking. If you were dying in someone's arms, surely you would have wanted them to talk to you. You didn't wait for him to nod again or otherwise respond before going on, "I'm glad I met you tonight. I'm glad I saw you. I was telling the truth when I said you seemed like a nice person."

There was blood trickling out the side of his mouth now despite gravity, and his eyes were starting to close. You'd only just noticed that they were blue— very blue. You guessed his wife must have liked them, because you certainly did. His bloodied lips seemed to want to turn up into a smile, but they couldn't, not anymore. You kept on talking to him, because he couldn't talk back.

"I don't have a lot of friends," you said. "I've always been that way, ever since I was a little kid. My parents called me a loner, and I guess they were kind of right. You know what, though? I think I could be friends with you." Even though you knew he couldn't respond, you asked him, "Would you mind if I called you my friend, Anakin?"

You didn't know why you did it, but you leaned down to kiss his forehead next. You hoped it didn't bother him. Again, if you'd been in his position, you might have liked for someone to lean down and kiss your head.

Maybe he did like it; maybe he didn't— you'd never know, because by the time you raised your head to look at him again, it was very clear to you that he was dead.

Cold, white, silent, and dead.

You should have leapt to your feet at that point; jumped up for the purpose of running to the nearest home (the homes were spread-out here; it would take several minutes no matter how quickly or in which direction you moved), but you didn't. Not right away.

For whatever reason, you just couldn't bring yourself to place his head back down in the snow.

"I'm sorry, Anakin," you said, as a violent wave of guilt crashed into you at a speed comparable to that of the train he'd just used to end his pain. You couldn't discern why you were apologizing to him; maybe you were sorry for forgetting your phone, or for arriving at the crossing too late, or for not being strong enough to drag him out of danger. Maybe you were apologizing for whatever he'd been through that made him think suicide was a reasonable response to losing someone he loved.

You wished, then, that he'd had time to tell you a bit more about himself before succumbing to his injuries.

You still didn't want to get up, because you still didn't want to lay him down in the snow. You'd held pets as they'd died before; every single one you'd ever had, you'd wrapped up in something like a blanket or a sweater before burying it or leaving it with the vet. Anakin, you knew without having to know him, had been much more of a presence during his time on Earth than anybody's dead hamster or fish or black-and-white spotted rat— how were you to be expected to leave him like this? Alone, in the cold?

Thinking swiftly (if haphazardly), you very carefully took your hands off of his face, and went on to remove your coat. You'd be running at full-speed soon; after that, presumably, you'd be riding in either an ambulance or a police car to show somebody who could help just what had happened.

It was difficult not to look at the middle of the tracks, and it was difficult not to move him too much, but you managed to slide your bundled-up jacket beneath his head in place of your knees anyhow. Reluctantly, you rose to your feet after that; hardly even noticed how cold and stiff your legs had grown while you'd been sharing Anakin's final moments. You'd notice tomorrow; tomorrow they'd hurt, but you wouldn't care about that. Anakin, after all, didn't have the privilege of looking forward to 'tomorrow' at all. You supposed that to do what he'd done, though, his 'tomorrows' must have seemed more like looming spectres, as opposed to opportunities.

Involuntarily (and inadvisably, too), you stole one more look at his body before you turned to run. Icy, black blood coated both the tracks and the wood between them; slivers of bone and cartilage as white as the skin on his face glimmered in the light cast by the street lamps. His legs had been broken along with the rest of him, and you hoped fervently that he hadn't felt them splinter apart.

The last thing you looked at before dashing off in search of a house was his face, which contrasted so sharply with the rest of his wounded body that you could almost imagine he was still alive— that, if you hurried, you might be able to get back with a team of paramedics in time to save him; take him to the hospital, where he might be patched up.

His life would never be the same, but it would be okay, because you'd already agreed to be his friend.

You let your imagination run as wildly as your legs in that precise direction, as you left him in the snow to go and get help.

I'm glad you found me in time, you imagined him saying over coffee, as he sat in a wheelchair or something like one at the café near your house.

I'm glad I did, too— I couldn't have asked for a better friend, Anakin, you pictured yourself saying back to him, as you smiled into those pretty blue eyes of his and opened up a box of your favourite kind of doughnuts.

You'd never actually know whether or not the ones with the white icing and multicoloured sprinkles were his favourites, too.

#anakin x reader #anakin skywalker x reader #tw suicude #death #triggers #fanfic #star wars #modern au

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heuristicallyinclined · 3 years

Text

SPF Five Million or Whatever

Summary: Mspa Reader figures they need some sunlight and recruits a few friends to help them get it.

Rating: T for language

Notes: I haven't written any of the jades before and I really love them and tried my best to capture their dynamic. I really love imagining Mspa Reader's adventures between Friendsim and Pesterquest. I feel like the games were really just scratching the surface of their shenanigans.

(AO3)

You are pretty sure that people need about twenty minutes of sunlight a day to stay healthy.

Or at least that is what you think it is. You never really thought about it too much to be honest. Having spent a decent amount of time outside walking, you figured you were getting your daily dose in without much effort, and maybe you just didn’t realize how good you had it, not living on a planet that even passively was trying to kill you. Because right now, you know for a fact you’re getting the ideal amount of sunlight on Alternia, which in your personal experience is fucking ziltch.

You tried it once and learned pretty fast that what might leave you with a healthy glow on Earth, would leave you well done on Alternia, a disgusting state for any piece of meat to be in, let alone your body. So that was clearly an Earth exclusive recommendation.

Still, you think some sunlight would do you good.

Especially since you were starting to feel this constant exhaustion after a few months on Alternia. After ruling out your questionable diet and semi existent sleep schedule, you were left with the fact that you were likely getting a vitamin D deficiency.

Frankly, you have not survived your various trials and many tribulations here on Alternia to let rickets be what finally kills you. Absolutely not. No. You’re too proud to die in the lamest way possible on a planet with significantly more respectable and less preventable ways of dying.

This does mean you’ll have to face off with the Alternian sun, which really isn’t that much better on the lame death scale. Last time you got caught out during daylight, you got really lucky. You aren’t counting on a second time where a gorgeous cowgirl, alien Lassie, and a lot of dumb luck would happen to rescue you from your own poor life choices.

So this time, you were going to try to be smart about doing something this monumentally stupid. You were going to get water, a floppy hat, and some ice packs. Now you just had to not do this alone, especially when you knew someone who touted the merits of the buddy system.

Luckily, you also know a few people who could withstand the sun’s rays.

Finding out that jadeblood sun resistance was in fact a real thing and not just the latest in fucking with the local alien made this a whole lot easier and left you with a few options to consider. You figured Wanshi was too young to be kept up that late and that you’d rather not traumatize her if this went sideways. Bronya mentioned being busy with a new brood hatching and managing the herd of lusii they attracted to the caverns so that was a no go. Lanque would likely be otherwise occupied or at least claim to be and you’d rather him not see you like this if you could help it. That left you with Daraya, who you knew would be up and likely be down for some alien shenanigans. But most importantly, Lynera.

One massive check in her favor is she already had experience inconspicuously carrying your injured body through the caverns unnoticed by literally anyone else to a secondary location So discretion was clearly already a strong suit of hers. The context for how she even got that much experience in the first place is none of your business, especially now that you’re friends. And you’d say you two were actually pretty close after all the time you’ve spent hanging out with her in the caverns and going out on little cafe trips.

Really, she was the ideal candidate for this by every observable metric. Well, almost.

While she is loyal enough that you knew that she would help you hide a body if asked, she has also threatened enough people for perceived slights against you that she would very likely be the reason there was a corpse hanging around in the first place. So having Daraya be there too was probably a safe move.

Oh it’s all coming together now.

You were feeling really good about this. Your confidence in yourself, your friends, and your planning abilities carried you through two difficult conversations. One with a veneer of apathy trying to conceal some very real concern, the other incredibly loud and extremely worried, but you got through them and that’s what matters.

So here you are at the brooding caverns, tucked away inside the turn just before the mouth, clad in some cool guy shades from Cirava, a sun hat from Charun, some shorts from Remele, and a Xoloto brand tank top complete with strategic ripping that makes it basically impossible to wear anywhere in public without a layer underneath.

Your friends are right here with you. Lynera is alternating between pacing and fretting over the placement of your sun hat for the seventh time to really make sure your hair doesn’t ignite. You know it won’t and you told her it won’t, but you let her fuss. She just needs to do something with her hands to stay calm. You can at least let her have that with what you’re about to do. Daraya checks her palm husk again for the time as dawn steadily approaches. You take a deep breath in, psyching yourself up.

So you never actually figured out what the Alternian sun equivalent to twenty minutes of Earth sun is. But you think a minute should be enough to do it and not pass out. It feels about right. You have based this off of no math whatsoever, but you’ve done worse with less prep, so you’re not going to let some nerd shit stop you. Especially not now, when you hear Daraya sigh. You know that it’s show time.

You look at her to confirm as she pockets her device and you see some light begin to stretch into the cavern’s entrance. She looks at it too, frowning as it approaches.

“▲▲ try not to fry your pan ▼▼"

You give her a reassuring smile and run up through the mouth of the cave, and stop just past the entrance, arms up wide and outstretched, like you were doing the YMCA dance and lost rhythm just past the first letter, ready to receive that sunlight you so desperately craved. The sun hits your skin and there is a comfort in feeling’s its warmth after living in eternal night.

You really missed this.

...

Actually, you know what? No you don’t. Fuck this.

That “gentle warmth” quickly became a scorching blaze and to your credit, you made it a solid ten seconds under the full wrath of that relentless bitch they called a sun before you decided to quit while you were ahead and conscious. You dash back towards the entrance, uncomfortably aware of every step you take. Lynera stops nervously pacing and stiffens when you reenter the shade and runs towards you. Daraya is ready and quickly hands you a water bottle. You struggle to open the cap because of the condensation making the bottle slick and it exacerbates the painful tingle you’re feeling all over your hands. And your face. And your everything actually.

You continue struggling until you finally succeed in twisting the cap off, but your victory immediately proves to be a hollow one, as your tight grip on the bottle has water going everywhere.

God. Damn. It.

You’re vaguely cognisant of a screeching sound somewhere behind you, but you have more important concerns right now. By some absolute miracle, a decent amount of the water seems to have gotten on you and saturated your top, soothing the skin under it. You feel less like you’re on fire and more like you had marinated your entire body in icy-hot for a few hours before getting deep fried.

You’d like to believe that that is a much more manageable situation. Your skin can’t tell much of a difference though so you waste no time and pour the rest out all over your face like you were a champ who just scored the winning goal instead of a dipshit speedrunning skin cancer.

Daraya mercifully cracks a cold one with the boys and pours the contents of another water bottle on you like you were a plant she forgot to water. The cool sensation on your skin causes you to sigh in a relief that doesn’t last long, before you lose contact with the ground. Lynera has you thrown over her shoulder and starts quickly making her way back into the caverns to her respiteblock. The physical contact takes that previous painful tingle and absolutely fucking floors it, bringing you to a familiar world of pain that your ass was very content not revisiting. Daraya keeps pace behind the two of you with her arms crossed the face of someone who is totally not panicked.

You try to calm them, telling them you feel better already. Really, you mean it.

This just causes Lynera to speed up and Daraya to grimace down at you instead of giving you an actual response.

While, yes, you resent having flesh, you actually feel really awake right now.

Daraya narrows her eyes. “▲▲ you mean from the pain? ▼▼”

No. No. That's different. And way more familiar.

God. Despite looking like a freshly hatched octogenarian, Lynera can really book it.

She carries your limp, increasingly dizzy body with ease. You knew she was deceptively strong and fast first hand, based off of her being able to immediately able to knock you the fuck out and lug you back to her combination study block murder dungeon. Honestly, being able to do anything with an alien discreetly deserves commendation. Commendation up and out the wazoo.

You’re about to attempt to try to verbalize that thought, but just before the turn to get to Lynera's study block, she suddenly stops. She nervously glances between this hallway and another adjacent one one. Daraya almost bumps into her but stops herself just in time.

"▲▲▲ what are you doing? We said we were just going to put them in a spare recuperacoon ▼▼▼" Daraya whisper yells.

"They're a new color Daraya !!!" Lynera whisper yells to the point of negating the whisper part of the whisper yell and more just using a normal speaking volume with a hiss. “-they need !!! A medicull kit !!!”

Oh. You glance down at one of your dangling arms. That happened fast. In retrospect, you should have mentioned that was a thing that would potentially happen. How did you forget that?

“▲▲▲ and do what? A medicull kit could make them worse. We don’t know shit about aliens ▼▼▼”

“-!!! well how would you know all of their injuries were taken care of! that we didnt miss anything!”

“▲ they’re fine. We just, I don't fucking know? Rotate them in the slime? ▼”

“-like some sort of !!! rotisserie cluckbeast !!!” Lynera indignantly whisper shrieks.

"▲▲ No!▼▼" Daraya quickly defends. The way her eyes quickly glance to the side seems to imply that's kind of exactly what it's like.

Just like them rotisserie chickens.

The longer their arguing went on, the more uncomfortably aware you were getting about the fact that you had a body and Lynera's clothes felt like steel wool grating against your poor skin. That and describing what they were doing as “whisper arguing” was becoming more and more of a stretch as it went on and started to get louder. You were worried you were going to attract unwanted attention.

It is as soon as you have that thought, that a door opens, and you see an irritated Lanque groggily peek his head through to find the source of the commotion.

His face remains still at first, blinking tiredly as he takes in the fuckery and only opens the door wider when the other two turn at the sound of his door opening and he registers you slumped over Lynera’s shoulder with a single raised brow.

You smile and wave at him, despite how lightheaded her turn had you feeling, and Daraya quickly pulls your hand down and stands in front of you like there was nothing to see here. You let out a weak, “ow,” as she did, your flesh protesting at the touch. She glances back at you quickly, before exasperatedly turning to look back at Lanque with her arms crossed.

“▲▲ what? ▼▼”

He measuredly looks at the scene before him. Really taking in all of the bullshit before side eyeing Lynera.

“You threW the alien into broad daylight? EVen for you, that's crazy.” He almost sounds surprised, before smiling sweetly, “NoW Who’s going to tolerate you?”

Lynera sputters something, clearly offended, but Daraya cuts her off with a groan,

“▲ they literally need sunlight to live Lanque ▼”

His face twists. “Are they a fucking plant?”

“-no!!!" Lynera considers for a moment before yelling again just as loud. “-most likely not!!!”

He looks from your trio, to the small puddle of water forming under you, and glances back to the trail of water you apparently had dripping from you this whole time.

You know, you’re really starting to see the plant angle here.

“▲▲ look they just needed some stupid sunlight and we hung around to make sure they didn’t just get too cooked or whatever. What, are you going to tell Bronya on us? ▼▼" Daraya half mocks, half asks.

“No, of course not.” Lanque almost seems offended. “I don’t see any reason to inVolVe myself With you tWo Watching the alien give themselVes sun sickness.”

You ask no one in particular what sun sickness is.

“-can aliens get sun sickness???” Lynera asks with a newfound panic.

Lanque irritatedly replies, “HoW Would I knoW?”

You feel briefly dejected that no one answered. Until another thought crosses your mind. It wasn’t related to anything occurring at the moment, but it was weird enough that you don’t know how this was the first time you had ever really thought about it. Maybe the events of this morning were what it took for you to even be able consider this quandary.

Why do they say troll before a name? Like troll Will Smith? Doesn’t that imply there is another kind of WIll Smith? Like if they’re all trolls, why say troll? Oh shit, is that why they do it? Did you tell them about human Will Smith or would that be like human Whillh Smithh? Human Willhh Smyyth?

You rack your mind for other ways of making Will Smith a valid troll name, concentration evident on your face.

Lanque looks at you like you’re an idiot. “What the fuck are you talking about? You're just repeating the same name.”

The spelling? You narrow your eyes as you consider the spelling. It is the clearest thing in the world right now to you. It’s spelled different Lanque.

“I can’t hear how it’s spelled.”

Daraya’s eyes widen. "▲▲ They fried their fucking pan ▼▼ "

You still don’t know what sun sickness is, but you strongly suspect you may have it, especially since most of what happened afterwards was kind of a blur.

What you think you can remember is the sound of someone coming. Quick, determined footsteps that you couldn’t recognize, but Lynera clearly could as she stiffened first. She maybe said something about Bronya doing a curfew round? You think? Either way, it had everyone else on immediate edge and was enough for Lanque to decide this wasn’t worth staying awake for. He made a final comment and you heard a door shut, leaving your trio behind.

Daraya and Lynera exchanged words, finally remembering the “whisper” part of whisper yelling. They came to an agreement of some sort with Lynera nodding and heading to her studyblock and Daraya going off in the direction of what was probably Bronya.

Mentally, you are pressing F to pay your respects. Physically though, you register your orientation rapidly shifting. While you weren’t crazy about your position over Lynera's shoulder, what with her sweater vest grating against your torso and all, it turns out you enjoyed being moved out of it even less. The blood running away from your head had you feeling woozy in a whole new way.

To her credit, Lynera did not just immediately dunk you into the recuperacoon a la Space Jam like you’re sure she wanted to. She instead carefully lets you sink into it with a gentleness that starkly contrasted her worry. Normally, you would say that being put into a vat of slime is not an experience you would be looking forward to. Right now though, you’re loving it. It is an absolute godsend as it acts a cool balm against your skin.

Lynera continues and gingerly removes your shades and places them on an end table next to your sunhat. You were about to thank her and let her know she was in fact “a real one,” but you got cut off by her grabbing a handful of slime and smearing it on your face.

You sputter and instinctively try to move away, but you’re no match for her. She’s dealt with fussy grubs with sharp teeth for way too long to actually be deterred by your feeble efforts to resist. You don’t know how you’d rate the experience between, “children haphazardly covering you in slick grease paint” to “alien clay mask ensuring you don’t have enough skin to even entertain having clogged pores,” but you aren’t in a position to be opposed to it. It actually feels kinda nice when it’s in a smooth, even layer and not a huge fucking dollop on your face.

When she’s done, she wipes her hands while saying something to you. You don’t really register it, so you just kinda smile and nod. It’s your usual go to when you aren’t quite sure what is happening around you and it hasn’t led you too astray in the very many times you’ve done it. You’ll just ask her what she said in the evening.

Lynera seems pleased and starts moving to turn off the lights. Before she does, you thank her. She smiles at you, the corners of her eyes crinkling, and glances back at you as she goes, leaving you feeling warm inside and out for two extremely different reasons.

You settle down, trying to get cozy. You're not going to pretend you know much about sopor slime. You assumed it comes from a plant and haven't tried to confirm that little theory of yours because you need to believe that for your own sake. It's plant goo. From some kind of alien aloe vera or something. An extremely fleshy plant just ripe with goo for the taking. If you ever learn otherwise, no you didn't.

After you wake up and wipe off the slime, you find that you’ve healed surprisingly quickly. You’re still very tender to the touch, you find that out real fast, but your skin looks a lot less irritated than when you last saw it. This bit of good news and vitamin d that you assume you now have coursing through your veins that hopefully was not mostly used up on healing your skin, puts a little pep in your step as you get ready for the night. Before you exit the caverns, you feel a pang of hunger.

You can practically hear Bronya reminding you how breakfast is the most important meal of the day, so you walk into the meal block, figuring that no one would mind too much if you grabbed a breakfast bar or two before you left. Maybe you’ll even get lucky and find the ones that kind of taste like peanut butter and are crunchy for reasons you’d rather not identify. You aren’t alone when you enter. Lanque is there, sitting at a table. He looks up from his palm husk and eyes you.

“Did you change color?”

Yeah. Humans being exposed to sunlight makes them create a protective pigment so they're more able to be exposed to the sun.

“I’m fascinated.” he says, anything but. “So you're going to turn jade?”

No, more of a slightly darker version of what you are now.

He hums, now totally disinterested and looking back down at his chittr feed. Guess the limits of your rainbowdrinker like attributes have worn off on him.

Anyways, this just means that this will be easier next time you go out during the day.

That statement gives him pause. Lanque looks up from his palm husk, looking out before glancing at you dubiously.

"Next time?"

#hiveswap #hiveswap friendsim #Lynera Skalbi #Daraya Jonjet #Lanque Bombyx #Mspa Reader #This is just me having fun and getting real stupid enjoy #Can you tell I love Lynera?

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ri-ahhh · 4 years

Text

van life

I wasn’t gonna post this because it’s just like an overload of unrealistic softness but now that we know that they’re selling the van I think now is the best time if I’m gonna do it lol.

Also I’m sorry I can’t make this shorter on your dash by putting a ‘keep reading’ break. Tumblr is shitty and permanently fucked on my desktop where it just won’t load the page once I’m logged in so I have to do everything through mobile🙄

warnings: fluff, smut, kinda unedited

***

MJ sighs as warm morning sunlight kisses her skin through the passenger window of the tiny house van. She and Grayson had decided to have a beach day to themselves — the first one of summer — and she could’t be more excited. Nothing makes MJ Macias more content and at peace with her life than laying under the Pacific sun until her nose freckles and her skin takes on that healthy golden hue. Wrinkles are a risk she’s willing to take as long as she has a nice, long podcast, something to munch on, and, of course, a good view of her boyfriend in the surf.

That view of him rivals the one of the ocean in her opinion, which is just past his window as they cruise down the PCH on their way to Malibu. MJ wiggles her white-painted toes on the dashboard and smiles as she watches him sing along quietly (and off-key) to the Tame Impala song filling the cabin of the van. She loves his profile so much: the perfect slope of his nose; his full lips; the chunk of hair that swoops across his forehead.

She lifts their clasped hands from where they rest on her thigh with their fingers threaded together, and kisses the back of his wide palm.

“You’re so handsome, Bear,” MJ murmurs against his skin.

Grayson stops singing long enough to look over at her and smile brightly, his eyes hidden behind his black Louis Vuitton sunglasses. He pulls their hands towards himself so he can copy her kiss, only to her her own soft skin.

“My pretty Peach,” he returns with a squeeze to her palm, making MJ flush the color of her pet name. “Always so beautiful in the mornings.”

MJ hums and takes her turn returning their hands back to her lap, trailing her long nails up and down his muscular, veiny forearm. Apparently they’re equally as headass for each other today. “Just in the mornings?” she teases, tickling the sensitive patch of skin near the crook of his elbow.

She can’t see his eyes roll, but she imagines they do as his grin turns playful. “Of course not, but especially in the mornings. Your hair is in that cute braid and your skin is all silky soft and your eyes are extra green.” He takes his eyes off the road for a moment to appraise her looking exactly as he described. “And, you know, usually on the weekends you’d still be naked at this time. I like that part about mornings, too.”

“Oh, Lord,” she laughs with a shake of her head. “Grayson!”

She gasps his name and giggles harder as he completely catches her off guard by moving their hands right over his hardening cock. MJ squeezes him reflexively, and Grayson gives a little grunt as he shifts in his seat with a smirk.

“What?” he asks in mock defense, placing both hands back on the steering wheel. “I had to show you how much you affect me! I only have to think about you naked in our bed and it goes up.”

“That’s sweet,” MJ says, stroking his dick one more time before moving her hand further down his thigh, “but if you think I’m giving you road head in this car on this twisty road, you’re very mistaken.”

Grayson makes an obnoxious little whiny noise in defeat, pouting playfully and muttering dejectedly, “I knew we should have taken the Tesla.”

MJ raises an eyebrow. “Well, we wouldn’t have been able to bring your surfboard. Or be the first ones to christen the tiny house.”

“Oh, shit,” Gray says quietly, surprised. MJ smiles at the small victory of teasing him, her eyes diverting back to the beautiful scenery ahead of them as her mind wanders to all the things they can do in that makeshift bed.

“How about road hand, then, to start it off?”

She lets out a frustrated huff, his request interrupting her daydream. If there was ever a scenario where she didn't trust Grayson, it was one in which he was receiving any overt sexual pleasure whilst controlling a giant motor vehicle.

“Gray, I love you, but you’re pushing it.”

“Understood.”

***

It takes about half an hour for them to reach their destination, but MJ knows it was worth the drive as soon as they exit the car and she inhales the clean, salty air. They park at a little camping lot they had reserved a spot in for the day, the glittering ocean a mere few hundred feet away.

“Surf looks good,” MJ remarks, her hand shielding her eyes as she gazes out at the water. It always makes her a little nervous when Gray goes out in big swells, so the mild waves are a happy sight for her. “Nice and small; just how I like ‘em.”

Grayson looks out as well as he climbs on the roof of the van to retrieve the surfboard. “Funny, I happen to know for a fact you like ‘em long and wide,” he jokes. He just couldn’t help himself, apparently, his wide smile looking down at her from the top of the ladder a clear display of how proud of the stupid joke he is.

MJ watches the exposed muscles in his arms and shoulders ripple under his skin as he begins wrestling with the hooks and ties securing the board to the roof racks. The sight combined with his words and thoughts of what transpired earlier in the car makes her center pulse dangerously.

Needless to say, he’s successfully turned her on despite her best efforts.

“You’re insufferable, Dolan,” she says with a shake of her head. Her body feels heated from his innuendo and also the midmorning sun that is steadily raising the outside temperature. She pulls off the hoodie she had thrown on in the chilly early morning and steps into the back seat to haul out the cooler and beach bag.

“Yeah, but you love me,” his voice comes from right behind her. She turns around and yelps in surprise when she sees Grayson peeking his head upside down into the cab from the roof. He’s inches from her and is just dangling there like an overgrown monkey, which makes her fall back in the seat in a fit of giggles. He wags his brows at her playfully. “Ooh! Spider-Man kiss!”

MJ rolls her eyes good-naturedly and happily scoots over to clasp his cheeks in her hands, granting his wish by planting a sweet kiss to his lips. The scruff on his chin tickles her nose peculiarly, but she’s not mad at it. “Too much. I love you too much, you goof.”

Finally, with all their beach supplies in hand, they walk together towards the ocean. The private beach that they can access with their camp site is quiet and secluded. Best of all, it isn't clogged with tourists or people in general, which they both greatly prefer. Less people means they’re less likely to be bombarded by fangirls, or paparazzi, or any other unwanted distractions from what MJ hopes will be a perfect day.

As soon as the texture under her feet changes from firm concrete to sunken sand, MJ is stopping to remove her flip-flops so her toes can dig into the fine powder. This moment of first stepping on the beach is one of her favorite experiences, as minute and insignificant as it seems.

She looks up at Grayson, who glances back down at her questioningly. “Race ya,” she challenges suddenly, hauling ass to a perfect open spot on the wide expanse of beach. If there’s one thing she and her boyfriend have in common, it’s a highly competitive spirit.

“Cheater!” Grayson calls after her. He has the surfboard under one arm and the cooler slung over his shoulder, but everyone knows Grayson Dolan is the last person to turn down a competition. Which is why he does his best to catch up to her even with the obstacles in his arms holding him back.

The finish line is also only in MJ’s head, so she stops when she finds a spot she likes. She drops their bag and turns around with her arms raised like Rocky. Grayson isn’t very far behind her, being as in-shape as he is he’s reached her quickly, but he slows down earlier than he really needs to so he can take her in. Her breasts heave beneath a leopard print bikini top, loose hairs escape from her messy french braid, and her long legs glitter with the sand she had kicked up on her run.

She’s the most beautiful, dorky, amazing woman he’s ever seen and she is his.

MJ watches smugly as her boyfriend stalks over to her. “I wi—“

Grayson releases everything he’s carrying to the sand and grasps her face in both hands, pulling her in for a long, lingering kiss. MJ lets out a little squeak of surprise, but she melts into him half a second later. Nothing warms her soul more than his lips on hers, and she wraps her arms around his middle to bring them as close together as possible.

When he pulls back, Grayson stares at her with complete, obvious adoration. Ethan would have called him a simp if he were there, that’s how sappy his twin looks. Grayson can’t help himself, though; he is a simp for MJ, and, truthfully, he doesn’t give two shits who knows it as long as he makes her smile up at him like she is now, every day.

It’s why yesterday he had casually opened a new browser window, convincing himself he was just curiously window shopping on the ring section of Tiffany’s and the like… even after he got sucked into the customization tool on one website for nearly two hours.

Shaking his head and biting his lip through a grin, he traces the freckles on MJ’s cheek. “I want a rematch later.”

MJ squeezes him and smacks his ass playfully before releasing him and reaching into the bag for the big blanket. “You’re always such a sore loser,” she teases, unfolding the cloth and weighing it down with Grayson’s help. She digs through the bag again and hands him his wetsuit. “Go catch some waves. I have to catch up on this podcast by this really sexy guy and his twin brother.”

If there could be snapshots of the rest of the day, they would have been out of a picturesque rom-com. For a while, MJ rests on her tummy as she watches Grayson glide through the water, his deep voice simultaneously reverberating in her ears through her AirPods.

Eventually, when he’s done surfing — looking like a beach Adonis when he walks up the shore with the top half of his wetsuit folded down at his hips, surfboard under his arm and his wet abs glistening in the sun — he joins her on the blanket.

In the early afternoon MJ props herself up on her elbow, appraising his form with hungry, appreciative eyes as he tans on his back next to her. He has his hands pillowed behind his head, which causes his biceps to bulge and her thighs to clench. MJ is lost in him as she trails her finger over the features of his face — down his button nose, smoothing over his arched brows, across his rosy cheeks, against his pillowy lips. She smiles as he sighs contentedly and drops a peck to the tip of his nose before settling with her cheek on his chest. He smells like tanning oil and ocean and that clean, woody musk that MJ knows as him.

Later, they wade around in the sea between batches of sun bathing. At some points, he’s holding her waist-deep in the water with her legs wrapped around his middle and arms around his neck, lips connecting occasionally amidst easy conversation. Other times they have full-on water fights that have her squealing and him laughing as they splash each other back and forth.

It isn’t until the orange and pink hues of the sunset paint the sky that they’re brought back to the beach for good. Once they rinse off and have all of their things collected, they head back to the van.

MJ removes her bikini inside while Grayson reattaches the surfboard to the roof. She slips on her sweatshirt and a fresh pair of soft shorts just in time for him to carefully crack open the back door to make sure she’s decent.

Grayson smiles widely as he crawls in on the already made bed where she sits and is piling her damp hair into a messy bun. “So fucking beautiful,” he murmurs, giving her a lingering kiss while her hands are still mid-twist in her long hair.

A pleasant warmth swoops through her belly at his compliment; it had taken her a while to get accustomed to not only how often Grayson rains sweet praises like that down on her, but how sincerely he means them, too.

She hums into his mouth right before he pulls away. “I left your shorts there, baby,” she says, gesturing behind her with her head. Gray thanks her and she starts to dig through the cooler as he tugs his swimsuit down his inked legs, following them back up with the clean shorts.

They eat dinner with the back doors wide open, a perfect view of the sun setting below the ocean’s horizon right in front of them. A pleasant breeze floats around them in the van, cool and refreshing from being picked up right off the water. MJ nuzzles her cheek on Grayson’s bare shoulder, and he presses a kiss to the top of her head as she chews her last bite of tofu.

“Thank you for such a perfect day,” MJ says a minute later, gazing up at him while he takes a sip of La Croix. “Seriously, I can’t remember the last time I felt so…carefree. Loved. In love. Not that you don’t make me feel those things every day, but… y’know. Today was just great.”

Her hand reaches to caress his stubbly cheek, a soft smile at the corner of her full lips. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Gray.”

Grayson looks down at her silently, but his eyes say everything his lips don’t. He tucks his can and their empty tupperware back into the cooler, tossing the bag into one of the back seats behind them so it’s out of the way.

He cups her cheeks in both hands, wasting no more time in bringing their mouths together. MJ sighs and shifts so she’s that much closer to him, just as his tongue prods gently at her pliant lips to coax them open.

They make out like that, slow and deep, with the soundtrack of crashing waves wafting through the open doors. Gray lies her down and supports the back of her head with his forearm, his free hand swooping up and down her side before settling in the dramatic dip of her waist as he pulls away just barely.

Eyes closed, their breaths come heavy and mingle sweetly in the minute space between them. Grayson suddenly lets out a little incredulous huff, shaking his head and diving back in blindly to suck softly on her bottom lip. MJ lets out a little moan and digs her nails gently down his bare back, her eyes fluttering open.

“What?” she asks with a little smile of her own, nuzzling her nose against his in an Eskimo kiss.

Grayson’s hazel orbs meet her green ones, and the hand resting on her waist comes to cup her face once again so he can stroke the new freckles that litter her high cheekbone.

“I’m gonna marry you,” he answers, chuckling at her shocked little gasp. He hurries to clarify himself. “One day, when we’re ready. You’re my world, MJ. Maybe it’s selfish, or self aggrandizing, but hearing you say that makes it so obvious to me that you’re the only person I’d ever want to spend the rest of my life with. Because I feel the same about you. I only ever want to make you feel that way; nothing makes me happier.”

MJ is stunned into silence. Grayson isn’t exactly the most eloquent person, so somehow she reasons that his perfect delivery of such meaningful words means they’re truly heartfelt. Not that she would have doubted him either way, but their relationship has suddenly shifted even deeper in the matter of one day. One simple, amazing day.

She feels the prickle of tears behind her eyes, and bites her lip through a watery smile as she raises her hand to run her fingers through the back of his hair. No matter how happy she is, her instinct for dealing with any emotions is to deflect with humor. “Can’t wait ’til I pop out a few of your babies. From the sounds of it, you’ll be worshipping the ground I walk on.”

That hits him right in the baby fever, his dick hardening even more behind his shorts at the thought of her belly swollen with his child. Joking or not, she’s absolutely right.

“Fuck,” he whispers, grinning as he ducks his head to nibble her favorite spot just behind her jaw and right under her ear. “How many of my babies? Hm?”

“Mmm,” she sighs, scratching lightly at his scalp, considering the question seriously. “Four little Dolan babies, I think. Three boys and a little girl.”

“Yeah,” Grayson agrees easily, making his way across her jaw with soft little suckles. “But make that three girls and a little boy, and you've got a deal.”

MJ giggles and grabs his face so they’re staring each other in the eye again. “No actual baby-making until there’s a ring on this finger.” She wiggles the digits of her left hand, which Grayson grabs and kisses the back of with a smirk. If only she knew just how close that moment might be. “But we can always practice in the meantime.”

Grayson nods and hitches her leg up his hip as he ducks down for a surprisingly chaste kiss considering her invitation a second before. As much as he wants her, he has a need deep in his chest just to be close to her for the moment. To feel her hold him and nuzzle into the warm crook of his neck, sucking gently on that freckle there to make his head swim like after a nice glass of wine.

MJ is just as happy with that arrangement, and she lets her body be still and her breaths tickle the sensitive skin at his collarbone. The ocean breeze billowing through the open doors of the van is cool and salty and comforting.

“It’s crazy,” Grayson whispers after a few peaceful minutes, his fingers starting to trail up and down her covered back slowly. MJ pulls back a little so she can see his face. He isn't looking at her, but rather out the open van doors at the last moments of the sun setting behind the water. “I remember feeling exactly this way the first day we met, only now it’s…more. You felt right then, so right it was scary. And here we are. How did I know that you were my person as soon as you let me walk you back to that tent?”

MJ smiles and her belly swoops. She thinks back to that night, how scared she had been and how instantly — well, as he said — right Grayson had felt the minute they crossed paths.

“I did kind of seduce you,” she chuckles, lifting her head to nibble at the underside of his chin and reveling in the sensation of his deep chuckle vibrating against her lips. “Maybe you’re just under my Black Widow spell. Have I never let it slip I’m only after your money?”

Grayson laughs louder, squeezing her to his body tighter. “Nope. But that’s the MJ I remember falling head over heels for in a matter of hours. Smart and witty and sweet and so fucking pretty with her green eyes and bright smile.”

MJ stares up at him with stars in those emerald eyes he adores so much. He is unreal to both see and hear; his skin has turned olive and his hair has the crisp of the ocean still in it, and the fact that he can still pinpoint the little things he liked about her from so long ago…

“Do you love me?” she asks quietly. It’s so ridiculously unnecessary to ask, he tells her multiple times a day, every day.

“So much, Peach,” he murmurs back predictably, finally swooping down to capture her lips like she wanted earlier, tongues meshing instantly.

He tastes so familiar and sweet. She wants to devour him slowly, intimately, like she has a thousand times before.

“Close the doors?” MJ gasps after the simple swipe of his thumb over her nipple through her sweatshirt makes her thighs tremble and her hips grind onto his half-hard erection. Something about the heartwarming intimacy of the day has translated to her body being physically sensitive beyond belief.

Grayson nods and sits up, reaching for the switch of the fairy lights MJ had hung up a few weeks ago before slamming the doors shut on the nighttime scenery.

While he does as she asked, she scoots up to rest her head on a pillow and watches his bare, chiseled torso glow in the dim, sensual lights. Right as he turns around he catches her struggling to free herself from her hoodie.

“Let me do it, Peach. I wanna do it,” he breathes, dipping down to kiss her soundly before tugging upward on the hem of the soft fabric. MJ drops her head to the pillow to break the seal of their lips, lifting her arms up so he can pull the garment over her head.

Grayson flings it to the front of the van and brings their mouths together so quickly, like he simply can’t be away from her lips for longer than a second. His hands reach up and cup the pliable mounds of her breasts, which are several shades lighter than the rest of her chest. Clearly, he could care less, and MJ sighs softly as he massages them firmly, his calloused palms creating delicious friction on her hypersensitive nipples.

“Still the prettiest tits I’ve ever seen, too,” he smirks, making his way across her jaw. MJ smiles too, eyes closed in bliss as he kisses the familiar trail down her sternum. Predictably, his warm lips suction around the bud of her left breast, and she lets her mind wander through the pleasure to flash back on the first time he did this.

“We’re still kind of in a tent, too, y’know,” she gasps as he switches sides, letting out her first moan of the night when he scrapes his teeth against her. “Just…more bougie.”

Grayson hums, quickly getting lost in the feel of how soft her tits are and how much he loves the sensation of her hard nipples under his tongue. He drops his hips down so he can grind his full erection against her hot center, eliciting wanton gasps from both of them.

MJ groans again, the feminine sound literal music to his ears and the perfect reinforcement to keep going. She hooks her legs around his waist to hold his hips against her, thrusting up against him as he continues to bite and lick and suckle her breasts.

“Holy shit, Gray, right there… I’m gonna cum,” she whimpers, grasping at his hair to hold him down where he was sucking perfectly on her breast, and continues to grind roughly on his dick. Sure enough, a few seconds later she’s shuddering with the most intense orgasm she’s ever had without manual stimulation. Even from Grayson.

Grayson himself can hardly believe it; they have a great sex life, but he can’t remember the last time he had gotten her off just through some intense dry humping.

He isn’t going to question it, though, because it only means one thing: she’s as voracious for him tonight as he is for her. He growls when she starts to come down and surprises her with his mouth planting roughly back on hers. MJ kisses him back lazily as her mind clears some, smiling and fluttering her eyes open to meet his dark gaze when she feels his middle finger replace his tongue in her mouth. She closes her swollen, pouty lips around the digit and sucks, holding onto his hand and maintaining complete eye contact with him when he moans softly. She pulls his hand out of her mouth and pushes it into her shorts.

“Fuck,” he rasps, collecting her slippery cum against his finger, swirling it against his thumb before trailing his middle finger up to her clit. He soaks in her expression as her eyes roll back at the first contact, his favorite reaction she has to his touch. “Fuck, MJ. So fucking wet for me.”

MJ nods quickly, opening her eyes again to watch him watch her. “Lemme taste,” she whimpers.

She pulls his hand back up and doesn’t wait for permission or leave him time to process her demand as she sucks the slick moisture straight off his finger, the taste of herself gracing her tongue causing her pussy to gush even more. When his brain finally catches up, he’s immediately ripping his hand away from her with a harsh groan and hooking it around the back of her neck to kiss her deeply. His tongue plunders her mouth as he searches for traces of that sweet, earthy tang he knows oh-so well. MJ’s hands distractedly push at the waistband of his shorts, desperate for the feel of his dick in her hands.

“Please, baby,” she whines against his lips when they break for air, using the moment of clarity to tug more determinedly at his shorts. “Need you.”

“Need me where?” he teases, backing up so she can’t reach him as he pulls her own shorts down her long, newly tanned legs. Once he flings the scrap of fabric to join her sweater, he ducks down and swipes his tongue quickly over each of her nipples. “Here?”

MJ groans and shakes her head, her brain not operating at enough capacity to tease back, it’s so clouded with desire for him. “Gray…”

Grayson smirks and grabs one of her hands that are coasting down his back and attempting to pull him down against her. He cups her petite palm against his pulsing erection, sighing a little when her fingers wrap around him through his shorts instinctively. He drops his hand and brings it to her pussy, his fingertips dancing delicately against her swollen lower lips. His head swims at how wet she is and how the solid feel of him seems to have brought her mind back to earth, because as soon as he lets go of her hand she delves past his waistband to grip him directly.

“My dick, baby, you need my dick?” he asks softly, his voice a little high and his breath pitchy as she strokes him steadily now.

MJ moans and her pussy throbs simply at his words. She nods hastily. “Need it in me,” she manages, meeting his heated gaze as she gives him a firm squeeze. “Love your dick.”

“Yeah,” he sighs, his touch leaving her as he helps her in getting him completely naked, kicking his shorts off when they reach his ankles.

He takes a moment to gather himself and to slow down, trying to get himself back in that intimate headspace they were so deep in earlier, so that this doesn’t turn into just a hot, hard fuck. They love that, and it’s kind of their bread and butter in the bedroom. But he wants to hold her close and savor her body, to pass that loving energy between them in the most special, physical way.

MJ’s chest heaves as she watches Grayson hover above her, staring at her, and she parts her legs to welcome him back into her space. He looks like a fucking Greek god in the low light, his hair curly from the saltwater and sweat, his skin golden and his muscles bulging. She can’t possibly want him any more than in that moment.

“C’mere,” she whispers, reaching her arms out and making grabby hands at him. She can’t allow another second to go by without the sensation of his smooth skin against hers.

Grayson smiles sweetly at her, eyes sultry as he lowers himself at her request and presses their bodies together from chests to centers. She cups his cheeks and scratches her fingers against his scruff as they kiss slowly, deeply, desire building intensely once again as they grind together at the middle.

“Please, Grayson,” she finally says again.

All thoughts of any more teasing are out the door as Grayson obliges her. He dips his fingers in her pussy, testing her readiness and using her sweet juices to coat his dick.

MJ spreads her legs up and out, bent at the knees, and she throws her head back with a gasp as he enters her in a short thrust; a little more on the second, until he bottoms out with the third.

“Fuck me,” she whimpers, her hands pushing on the firm globes of his ass.

Grayson obeys with a groan, drawing his hips in and out steadily. “Wanna fuck you slow,” he says in her ear, thrusting all the way in and all the way out. The warm clutch of her perfect pussy is so intense at that tempo that he shudders and his eyes roll back. “Slow and deep, Peach.”

“Yes,” MJ agrees, her breaths coming in fast despite the maintained speed of his dick. He’s working her up so good, and she leans forward to bite into the junction of his neck and shoulder out of habit to keep her sounds muffled.

“Yes, baby,” she squeals quietly when her minute adjustment shifts the angle just right for him to hit her spot over and over. Her nails claw at his back, scraping over the work of art that is both his rippling muscles and the picture of the lions inked into them. “Oh my God, keep fucking me like that.. like that…”

The air confined in the van is warm and thick. Sweat drips from the ends of his hair, his hot breaths fan over her forehead, and his chain dangles enticingly across her face as he stares down at her all blissed out beneath him. Nothing turns him on more than her words of encouragement, which are usually muted due to the fact that his omnipresent twin brother lives across the hall. But now that they’re alone, in nature — just like the night they met — all filters are off. It makes him even more determined to get her to cum so hard she forgets any of those sweet praises she’s mumbling other than his name.

It’s already so, so good, but as soon as he gets on his knees just enough to gain more leverage to thrust even harder into her, that knot in MJ’s stomach starts growing in a fantastically unfamiliar way. Her eyes roll back and Grayson reaches a huge hand up to support her head against his shoulder, sensing how perfect the angle is for her and wanting to help her maintain it. She’s getting tighter and wetter around him, so much so that he has to grit his teeth and hiss to avoid having to pull out and stop.

“MJ,” he moans into her ear, tugging on her lobe with his teeth, an unspoken warning that he’s close. He’ll hold on as long as he can, but he absolutely needs to get her there first.

In the back of her mind, she comprehends his cue. But she’s so focused on reaching the bursting point of that expanding ball behind her belly, she can’t help but selfishly draw every ounce of pleasure she can from him. She thinks she knows what’s going to happen, and it will be a first-time experience for both of them.

It’s only going to take a few more deep, hard thrusts, and she’ll be there. Almost there…

“Gray!” she squeaks, squeezing a hand between their bodies to push against his abs, just in time for him to pull out and her to gush all over him and the blankets serving as makeshift sheets beneath them. It’s an indescribable release that washes over her, her own loud, shaky squeals of pleasure distant noises in the back of her head. She can only see colors behind her closed eyelids, greens and blues and lavenders sparkling in her mind’s eye like a mystical fog.

Grayson can’t believe what he’s seeing. His shocked and aroused groan sounds obnoxiously loud and foreign in his own ears; the fact that he doesn’t bust his nut right there on the blanket next to hers is a miracle. Instinctively, he reaches his fingers down to help her through it by rubbing her clit, huffing out an incredulous laugh when her thighs clamp instantly around his hand and a little more of her juices come out, soaking his hand. His name tumbles repeatedly out of her lips, just like he was aiming for and unwittingly exceeding his own expectations.

He’s painfully hard as he leans over her again, kissing her through her mindless whimpers as she starts to slowly come-to, her damp thighs opening once again and allowing him to slip between them. Right where he belongs.

“MJ?” he whispers, stroking her brow softly and watching her face intently. “You okay?”

Eyes still closed and breasts heaving, MJ takes a second to respond, but she moans quietly and nods, puckering her lips in invitation for him to meet with his. He obliges, indulging her for a moment until he can’t wait anymore. “Where do you want me to cum?”

“Inside,” she breathes at once, reaching down to grasp him and bring him to her dripping pussy. Grayson flinches at her sudden grip on him and the overwhelming wetness against the sensitive head of his dick. “Come on, Bear. Want you to cum hard inside me.”

With a groan, he slides back inside her, and a few hard, sloppy thrusts later, he’s shooting deep in her pussy. He’s never cum so hard in his life, and he whines into her mouth with the timing of his spurts. She hums contentedly, obsessed with that feeling of warmth that comes with, well, his cum.

“So good,” he murmurs when he’s finally done, pulling out of her slowly. He grabs a spare towel and cleans up the liquid white that follows him dripping from her center. “That was incredible, MJ. You’re incredible.”

MJ shakes her head in agreement, clapping a hand to her forehead and giggling softly, her knees bent and swaying side to side. “I thought we had done everything to try to get that to happen. Turns out we just had to go back to the beginning.”

Grayson lies down next to her, turning her head with a gentle hand on her cheek so he can press their lips together. “I love you,” he says simply. “My pretty Peach.”

MJ grabs a blanket and tosses it over the both of them, brushing her nose against his once they’re cuddled together. “And I love my Gray Bear. Mine.”

“Yours,” he whispers in affirmation, tucking her head into the crook of his neck until they’re both lulled to sleep in their cozy little bougie tent.

#dolan twins #grayson dolan #grayson dolan smut #dolan twins fic #grayson dolan fic #grayson mj #grayson dolan oc

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dammitadolfnomorecake · 3 years

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Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt 153

153

Keith’s heart was currently somewhere in his throat as he struggled to breathe around the solid lump wedged in there. Though that might have also been the tie around his neck, which may be too tight but just right if he had to make a dash off the mortal coil. He knew he had to do something big to apologise for his behaviour. Rieva had pulled so hard on his ear as he admitted he’d lost his cool over the nursery that his ear still hurt. Call had been made. Shiro had groaned, but played his part, and now it was time to see Lance and of his boyfriend would let him apologise.

Lance loved love. Keith sent on a two hour mission across Platt to find anything Valentine’s Day related. He’d managed to find a teddy bear with chocolates, marked well and truly down enough to make Keith mentally kick himself all over again. Coran offered his help, but this was something Keith had to do by himself. Suited up, because he knew Lance loved it when he did, Keith held both the bear and two dozen long stem red roses that he’d paid an outrageous amount for. In the bag hanging off his arm was dinner. Italian, as Lance couldn’t say no to Italian food, as well as a bottle of non-alcoholic red wine. Coran had confirmed Lance was resting on his own, though warned him not to distress him further or he’d be kicked out. The way Coran had looked him had hurt. Coran was worried about the pair of them, yet didn’t hide the disappointment with a fake smile. Not that Coran had straight out said he was disappointed. He didn’t need to. Keith knew enough to know when he’d disappointed someone despite the compliment about him looking “quite dapper and fetching in a suit”

Knocking lightly on the door, Keith hated the place. Every time he came down to the medical wing he felt his stomach drop. The space barely had any fond memories, with visiting usually meaning Lance wasn’t doing too well. Letting himself in, Lance was laying with his back to the door. His boyfriend not moving

“It was Valentine’s Day. I missed Valentine’s Day. And I am so sorry. I have no excuses. I shouldn’t have lost my temper about the nursery either. I worry. I worry too much. But the thought of something happening to you breaks me on the inside”

“I’m not fragile and I’m not human”

Lance’s wobbly tone told Keith that his boyfriend was either crying or on the verge of crying. Keith not that far behind in the tears department

“I know you’re not fragile. To me you’re more human that most of the humans out there. I... so much has happened, but I... can’t get that image out of my head. You laying on the bed with blood between your legs. I keep... getting stuck on it. On how I could have lost you permanently, over something... something that... you do every day. I know you don’t forget, but I don’t think I’ll ever forget seeing you like that. When you saved me from Matt in the tunnels, I didn’t think there was anything that’d hurt more than seeing you torn to shreds. But then I... I think of you... bleeding and bleeding and somehow our twins surviving. It’s like a miracle. I get scared that something is going to happen and then you’ll all be gone”

“I know you get scared. But, today really hurt me. It felt like on top of ignoring Valentine’s Day, that I was nothing more than the breeding container for you kids. That Valentine’s Day was your way of saying you don’t like me as much as you used to, then today was the nail in the coffin. I tried not to let it hurt but you didn’t know. I went to so much effort to make... make it all special and then... I waited. And I waited. And then you were asleep and I realised you didn’t know at all. I know you don’t pay attention to things like that... but I thought maybe I was special enough that you’d have some secret plan”

Keith couldn’t feel shittier. Lance had waited for him again. This time he’d been right there and oblivious

“I’m sorry”

“I know you are and that makes it hurt so much more because you take such good care of me. I wanted to show you you mean the world to me and I... I wanted to spoil you because we couldn’t go on an actual date like everyone else did. I didn’t even... all I did was paint the nursery walls. Matt and Rieva helped with moving some things and I tried so hard to be careful. I scuffed up the floors... scraped the walls, and dented the stairs... because I didn’t want to keep thinking about you not liking me how you did. I know you love me... You... you didn’t hear what I was saying. You’re my heart and soul... so it hurt even more than I can handle”

Lance was one of the most house proud people he knew. He wasn’t obnoxious about it like in TV shows, nor did he go out of his way to brag about the things he had. His pride manifested in the way he kept things near and maintained. Things like a dripping tap would be fixed as soon as he noticed him. His love for his house was felt by everyone who visited. That Lance would intentionally harm his house said he wasn’t acting normally. Sure, his boyfriend had a track record of walking into things or falling down them, Lance had to also understand that his klutzy ways scared the shit out of Keith. The last example of his boyfriend’s uncoordination was Lance smacking his face on the bedside table trying to turn the lamp off and not disturb Blue.

“I don’t want to fight with you”

“I don’t either... I know you didn’t mean to forget... I just got my hopes up. I built it all up in my head”

“I’m sorry. Can I come closer?”

Lance nodded, Keith finding his legs stiff as he made his way over to stand in front of his boyfriend. With the blankets pulled up to his chin, Lance looked far too vulnerable. His eyes scrunched tightly closed as he sniffled

“I know I’m late, but... I... I picked up a few things. Are you up to sitting up?”

“Gimme a moment..”

“Okay. Do you need help?”

“I can do that much... I didn’t... I didn’t mean to act so selfish”

“I wish you’d told me. We had one of the best nights we’ve had in ages and I was so fucking clueless”

Lance opened his eyes as he propped himself up to sit. They were a little red from crying and a whole lot of wide as he stared at the roses in Keith’s hand

“They’re for you. I thought you would have smelt them and the surprise would have been ruined”

“You brought me flowers? And you’re... in a suit?!”

Keith nodded, kind of self conscious and wishing the happiness in Lance’s eyes was solely for him and not the roses

“You said you liked how I looked and it’s not like I wear one often”

“You look amazing... and I look like this... God... I hate fighting with you. I hate that I snapped...”

“I was the one who overreacted. With your sense of smell I panicked over how you could tolerate the paint”

“Honestly I’ve been smelling so much lately I let the paint knock my sense of smell out... I’m so sorry. I know I overreacted and I didn’t know how to come home and tell you I was sorry. I’m the worst boyfriend...”

“I’m the one who didn’t know Valentine’s Day had passed. I messed up our first Valentine’s Day as a couple”

Lance rubbed his eyes, failing at keep his tears at bay

“I’m the one who built it up”

“So you should. I know you’re a romantic. Fuck. I wish I’d known...”

“It’s not like we could go anywhere if you did”

That was true... but fuck it. He wanted to. Keith had had plenty of time to overthink things and rule out potential dates as he did

“We could”

“We can’t... I’m too big”

With his boyfriend down in tears, Keith hurried to sit on the bed beside Lance’s legs, placing his hand on Lance’s leg and kind of hoping the takeaway containers didn’t open as he did

“You’re not too big. You’re not. Fuck anyone who says that”

“We can’t hide it”

“Fuck them. It’s nobody’s business but ours. Tomorrow. We can go tomorrow. Anywhere you want”

Lance shook his head

“I can’t. What if... the wrong people see. Things have died down”

“Most vampires don’t walk around during the day. I won’t force you, but I’d love to go on a date with you”

“But your bike?”

“Babe, you’re a hundred times more important than my bike. I brought dinner too. Italian because I know that’s you’re favourite”

Keith was slightly lost as Lance cried harder, hiding his face completely. The hunter was sure Coran would be bursting through the door to yell at him for upsetting Lance any moment now

“Hey, no need to cry”

“You’re doing all this for me and I was so shitty to you!”

“You weren’t shitty. Maybe a bit, but I’m the one who forgot”

“How did you figure it out?”

“I made a list of things then worked through it. I thought the heart on the fridge was to mark Rieva’s and Matt’s anniversary”

“I don’t even know when that it!”

Keith snorted. As if he had any clue. Matt and Rieva were just... a complete package from the start

“Neither do I. I’ve never had a Valentine’s before. I don’t know if this is right...”

Lance lowered his hands, big blue eyes staring at straight at Keith

“It’s perfect. You’re perfect. I... I don’t deserve you”

“You deserve everything good, babe. Do you want to have dinner with me?”

Lance’s lack of immediate answer sent Keith’s stomach falling. His boyfriend sniffling hard, moving both hands to his stomach as he did

“Okay... but... tomorrow... tomorrow can we do something you want to do? I don’t care what kind of date we go on. I just want to go with you”

“Babe, I think we both remember how it went on our first date. It was kind of a disaster”

Lance granted him a soft smile with his fangs showing. He was just too damn cute, and it was too easy to forget he was 45 when he didn’t look or act it

“It wasn’t... I mean... I didn’t expect a gun range, but, I was happy. And happy in the hotel room. I’m happy when I’m with you. I don’t need special”

“You deserve special”

“Babe. Special is like... overrated. What’d make me happy is doing something you want to do”

“But I’m the one who forgot”

“And you’re the one who suggested a date. We’re either doing something you want to do, or we’re not going”

Keith channel his best “Kosmo” look. Pouting as he stared at Lance, Lance simply crossing his arms. It wasn’t fair. He knew he’d kind of nailed the look Kosmo gave that got him out of the shit most of the time. Holding the expression, Lance finally laughed after several long moments

“Stop it. It’s not going to work”

“It seems pretty effective”

“That’s because I have a hard time saying no to the man I love. I’m serious, Keith. I want to do something for you and me, that you like. I don’t want you thinking I love you any less if you don’t keep me happy, because that isn’t what I want in a relationship at all. I want you to be a bit bossy and be selfish, because honestly you really struggle with that. You’re important to me. The things you like are important to me. The nursery... I’d... I’d never go ahead and decide on everything. You’re the father of our twins. They’re half you. And a whole lot of responsibility. I looked at few things I like, but I want to know what you like. I want to make memories as we make these choices together. You scared me when you suddenly grabbed me”

“I’m sorry. I just... get caught up in the “maybes”. Like how you shouldn’t be stressing yourself, and what Allura said, and that you’ve had a bleed”

“It was barely really a bleed...”

“The first one wasn’t”

Lance’s face fell. Keith felt mean for trying to drive home that he couldn’t cope with that fear, but he really did Lance to understand that it was something he grappled with

“I didn’t... I didn’t know. I wouldn’t have... not if...”

“I know. I feel that same fear you feel when I’m hurt. That feeling like all the oxygen has been sucked out the room... I know you’re tough and strong, but I also know you’ve been through a metric ton of fuckery, like some messed up author keeps throwing crap at us when all we want to do is get on with our lives. And... and when you do things without me, I wonder... if I’m needed”

“You’re needed. I swear it. But this is something we’re going to need to work on, to meet half way. I got too self reliant, that I let myself be all swept up. When I get something in my head I like to do it then and there to get it out the way. I’m not trying to disclude you. Exclude you. Disclude isn’t even a word. And... I may have over done things trying to cope with my anxiety. I know you love me... but I live with my ego too. You settle and soothe that part of me. So I think I react even more because I’m so used to it settling around you. It never used to settle. It was a chronic itch under my skin that I fought with every day since I died. You didn’t ask to deal with my ego on top of me”

Lance sounded so troubled by this mysterious force Keith couldn’t understand no matter how many different ways it was explained to him. He was himself. His ego was his self of self. Lance’s ego acted as if Lance was an unwelcome in his own body. He’d known that all along. That he could soothe Lance’s ego showed how deeply Lance and the monster inside trusted him to do right by them

“No, babe. I knew you struggled with your ego. I knew that it was this other part of you. I still love you. Ego and all. Now, I’ve got dinner and alcohol free wine. You’ve got just enough bed space to move over so we can eat and cuddle...”

“Only if you agree our date will be somewhere you want to go”

Somewhere Lance liked. He liked seeing Lance happy... He didn’t know how to ask for more, nor did he need anything more

“Okay. I’m still super sorry”

“I’m sorry too. We’ve been through a lot, and you’re so sweet to me. You keep me going and...”

“And you gave me a super romantic night that I had no idea about”

Lance snorted at him

“I feel like that’s saying I’m not romantic enough”

“Babe, you’re very romantic. I know it’s cliche, but having you to come home to makes all the difference. Even when I’m covered with grease. That should have been my biggest clue”

Normally he was met kisses then sent to shower, or if Lance was asleep on the sofa he stole a kiss then headed up to clean up

“Well we did only just have Christmas not that long ago, but let’s aim to actually celebrate things on the right day this year”

“And next year...”

“Babe, we’re gonna have two kids either crawling or walking. We’re gonna have our hands full”

“Their uncles can watch them. I can’t believe Shiro didn’t remind me”

“He’s got a lot going on. You look really handsome in that suit. I don’t think I’ve seen more than pictures of you in one”

“Then you get the whole suit experience for the first time. Matching socks and underwear and all”

Lance laughed at him, starting to move over as he did

“I’m down for the suit experience, but I’m more down for cuddles. It’s a shame your suit’s going to get wrinkled. You look very dashing and very charming”

Keith blushed harder than he should have. He’d tried to look good for Lance, and not like the slob he was slowly evolving from

“That I know I can’t forget. Uh. I mean... I can’t forget the cuddles... uh... okay, let me get the hospital table and we’ll eat”

Lance’s smile was so bright that it sent Keith stupid. Lance had been through so much that he didn’t even notice the love he gave to everyone around him. The way he’d fix small rips or tears if he found them in the washing. The way he’d swapped to lactose free milk like it was nothing. The way he held him like he didn’t have blood on his hands. The constant encouragement. The way he gave and gave. He could be a brat. A total brat and sometimes he drove Keith crazy being too nice and too ready to help. But Keith didn’t think he could repay Lance for the way he’d changed him. Not all changes were good. Lingering thoughts of the people who’d died in Zarkon’s mansion haunted him. He’d never overthought about the life of a vampire until Lance came. He’d always wonder how many he’d killed who’d been on humanities side. Yet... his overall view of the world had softened. Shades of grey now seen between that black and white line of vampires being evil abominations and humans being good. Not that all humans were good either. They’d both had their moments. Keith did wonder if he’d be able to keep things spicy enough for Lance to stay interested him, then he’d remember that his boyfriend really seemed content with Keith simply existing in the same space as him, and some of that anxiety he’d suffered his whole life would simply fade away. Lance standing in the kitchen. The smile just for him. He didn’t need to propose or rush, despite the occasional compulsion, because Lance wanted to move slowly. To wait for him to catch up. He held out his hand and smoothed the way forward, despite all the ups and downs. Next year he wouldn’t forget. He’d remember and make sure Lance felt like he was the main character of those trashy romance movies he loved so much.

#oncebittentwicestupid #once bitten twice stupid #ashratherose

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thethousandyearwitch · 3 years

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Lest Darkness Falls on Yorknew

A Pariging Vampire + Werewolf AU!

High Priestess of Yorknew, Cheadle Yorkshire, is troubled by recent developments. Livestock and people have started to disappear or end up slaughtered, and people turn to her and the church in hope of saving. Could it truly be that the new owner of the hillside mansion has something to do with it? Investigating by herself may be more dangerous than she thinks..

Chapter 4: The Finale.

AO3 Link

What the hell am I doing? Ging cursed himself as he surveyed the hillside manor towering above Yorknew. The sun had freshly set, and darkness had spread over everything in the valley, except for the oil lantern Ging carried and the bright lights of the mansion in front of him. The mansion was framed by black wrought-iron fences, around 7 feet tall, melting into each other at a large front gate. Behind the gate, a stone path lead straight to the front door. There was no patrol outside, though Ging wondered if they could still sense him as much as he could sense them. The hairs at the back of his neck had stood up as soon as he had entered the area, his ears were twitching with the faintest trace of sound or movement, and his teeth felt uncomfortable in his own mouth, itching to bite down into whatever he could find. What am I even supposed to do? ‘Eliminate’ my ass, am I just supposed to ring the door? Ding Dong Hello yes, it’s me, a Werewolf, here to kill your coven leader- A shadow passed by a window on the second floor, and Gings attention got drawn back. Tall, upright statue, they had already mostly walked out of view. But for a moment, the shadow stood still, their left shoulder and half of their face still blurry and dark in the window.

And even though it was too dark to tell,

And he was hidden from sight,

Ging felt like they were looking directly at him.

Instinctively he hid behind the tree he was leaning on, and killed the fire of his oil lamp, biting the inside of his cheek. Slowly, shivers crept up his spine, his muscles tensed. His hand shot to his pocket to grab the cross Cheadle had provided for him. Pure iron bathed in holy water, uncomfortably warm to the touch for a werewolf, painfully hot and burning to a vampire. Ging had never interacted face to face with a vampire before, and yet something deep withing him recognized this piercing gaze as something inherently hostile and predatory. A century old feud that would carry on with generations, a natural born hatred for each other, its groundwork laid in territory conflicts and a right to hunt.

Everything around him felt intensified, more suspicious, from the cold breeze cutting his skin, to the creaking of old trees under their own weight. Leaves on the ground rustled with either footsteps or a gust of wind. Somewhere a twig snapped. Ging bit down harder on his check, until the comfort of warm blood engulfed his mouth, bitter and tainted.

Silence. Despite his heart beating heavily against his chest, Ging slowly turned around to check on the window. Clear, no trace of anyone. No sign of anyone exiting the mansion, either. Ging sighed with relief and leaned with his shoulder against the tree. His body was still alert, twitching and tensing, but it seemed like he wasn’t in any danger.

“Ah, I knew I saw a lost puppy wandering out here~” Before Ging could fully turn around and process what happened, a hand wrapped firmly around his throat, and lifted him off the ground.

He was face to face with who he could only assume was Pariston Hill. Blonde Hair, tall, lean, wearing a golden herringbone suit so ridiculously shiny, that Ging would have made a joke if his windpipe weren’t being crushed. Dark brown eyes were closely examining the werewolf, and slowly, Paristons lips parted to reveal sharp fangs. “Didn’t you know its impolite to spy on people? How should I go about punishing a stray dog like you?” Paristons grip tightened, and his lips curled into a smile.

Ging knew that trying to overpower a Vampire in this position would be difficult, not having the opportunity to transform, or freely move around to take advantage of his agility. But that would all be fair play, and he knew better than to restrict himself to that. His right hand was still in his pocket and clutched the cross.

In a swift motion, Ging pulled his hand out of his pocket, and smacked it flat on Paristons hand. Immediately the smell of burned flesh filled the air, along with a sizzling sound. Holy shit it actually works- The vampire withdrew his hand with a sharp inhale, and Ging fell to the ground, gasping for air. He looked up to see the other still holding his own hand, most likely covering a severe burn, eyes fixated on him, lips twitching.

Ging knew he should have immediately grabbed his bag and take the stake or holy water.

Or he should have just made a run for it, a werewolf has a vampire beat in speed.

But he just returned the others stare, painfully aware of his own vulnerability.

Paristons lips twitched to a bigger smile, a smile of irritation and disbelief. “Not bad, not bad at all. What’s your name, Mutt?”

“Ging Freecs, if you’d like I can use your ashes to write it down for you.” His eyes darted towards his bag, still next to the tree. He wondered if he could out speed the vampire to take the bag and grab the holy water.

A clap, and a pleased sound drew his attention back. “Ging Freecs, Ging Freecs! Marvelous, I must command you for your bravery. Tell me, are you just blissfully stupid, or did someone order you to spy on me?”

“Do you think I’d voluntarily spy on someone as boring as you? Next time you could at least put on a peep-show or something.”

Silence fell between them, Ging grinned confidently, Pariston replied with a satisfied smile. Time stood still for this moment, a Vampire and a Werewolf acknowledging each other as spiteful creatures.

The moment passed. Ging quickly leaned towards the tree and reached for his bag. One dash of holy water to burn and distract, and then a quick stab through the heart, and ill be back home before sunrise.

But before Ging could even stand up, or open his bag, a swift kick to his head threw his body against the tree, head hitting the hard bark. His vision faded fast as he fell back onto the ground, numb pain spreading from his head to the rest of his body.

“Don’t worry, we’re not done playing yet~” The last thing Ging saw, was a blurred Pariston towering over him, flashing another smile.

---------------------------------------------------------

Ging wasn’t sure how many hours had passed when he awoke. His head felt heavy, and his entire body ached, as if he were going through a bad hangover. Once he opened his eyes, he first saw the thick ropes that bound him into an uncomfortable seated position, unnaturally upright, arms and legs restricted.

It took more effort than he’d like to admit to lift his head, but when he did, he realized the darkness covering the room, only penetrated by a few lit candles on the large dinning table he was seated in front of. The table was decked with gold plated cutlery, and a plate covered by a stainless-steel cloche.

Gings night-sight had never been the best, but it was still good enough to pierce through the darkness of the room and find Pariston sitting at the end of the table, leaned forward on his elbows, chin rested in the palm of his hand. There was a small, burning red spark in his eyes, and he smiled at the werewolf. “Good Morning, sleeping beauty. How’s your head?” The vampire chimed.

“Just great, never had a concussion as lovely as this.”

Pariston laughed lightly, as if Ging had told an actual joke before he tilted his head just a tad to the side. “I removed that pesky scarf from your head, I hope you don’t mind. I have to say, a werewolves’ ears are quite sensitive, even while they are passed out.”

Ging grimaced, “I hope you had your fill of touching my ears, because that will never happen again.” His ears twitched involuntary at the thought of someone else coming close to them.

“That’s a shame. It’s my first time I’ve had the pleasure with one of your kind, so I’m naturally curious. You should brush your teeth more often, by the way, I think I spotted some discolorations on your fangs.”

“Did you put your disgusting spider fingers in my mouth?”

“I may have sneaked a peak at the unique canines of a wolf, how truly fascinating!” Ging wasn’t sure if it was the concussion, or the thought of Pariston prying around in his mouth, that got him close to throwing up on himself.

“So how long are you planning to keep me here, ‘cause it smells like death in here, and I’d rather be anywhere else.”

Pariston, instead of answering, slowly pushed his chair back, and walked leisurely towards Ging. Again, alarm bells rang loudly in his head, even drowning out the numb pain, and the hairs at the back of his neck stood up. But he could not back away, not even when Pariston laid his hand on his head and ruffled through his hair. “To be honest, I was planning to keep you. The relationship between werewolves and vampires can be quite beneficial to both, if they are willing to set aside their differences.” His face came uncomfortably close to Gings, and the werewolf pondered if he could somehow manage to lunge forward and bite the others nose off. “You could go outside in the daylight, and run any errands and surveillance as is needed, and in exchange we can give you the security to hunt whatever and whoever, as much as your wild heart pleases.”

Ging spit, with precision, on Paristons right cheek, who in return jumped a few feet back, hastily grabbed a tissue from his suit, and tried to clean himself. “I don’t care much for hunting whoever. I’m a simple man, a couple of sheep every few weeks keep me satisfied. You’re disguising yourself as human, while I have kept my humanity intact.”

The vampire stopped wiping at his cheek, and tilted his head again, lips curled again in a playful manner. “Ah~ So it’s like that. A good boy who never bites the shepherd’s hand, never reaps the sheep he’s guarding. Of course, you wouldn’t want to associate with degenerates like us, would you?”

Slowly, carefully, he stepped closer to Gings side again, but stopped at the edge of the table. “Are you hungry, Ging? I will happily release you back to your herd, but I would be a horrible host if I didn’t offer you some food first.”

“Does a good host tie his guests to chairs?” Gings head still felt heavy, and he used most of his energy just to keep his eyes focused on the other. Naturally, he was hungry, wanting to recharge on energy. How long had it been again since he had hunted anything?

Pariston lifted the cloche to reveal a piece of meat, still steaming, served with a side of green asparagus and a couple of wedged potatoes.

“My specialty, filet mignon. Rare, ‘kissed by the flame’, served with a side of asparagus and rosemary-potatoes.”

The smell hit Gings nostrils, and he started salivating. He watched Pariston cut into the meat, like a knife cutting into hot butter, the meat seemed tender, and revealed its inner reddish pink. And for a second, Ging had forgotten whatever they had just been talking about. He just saw food, ready to be ate, to satisfy this hunger he had been carrying around. It was just when Pariston turned towards him, fork in hand, flashing another toothy grin, that Ging realized.

“This is- “Before the sentence could leave his lips, Paristons hand was firmly grabbing his jaw. “It’s bad manners to say you don’t like something before you’ve even tried it.”

Ging dug his nails into the chair he was bound to, tried to rip free from the ropes, tried to release his jaw from the vampire’s iron grip. But all in vain.

If he had eaten before going on this mission, or if he could have been thinking clear without a head injury, maybe then he would have had a chance.

But instead, Pariston pressed his mouth open, and insistently pushed the fork carrying a piece of the filet into the werewolf’s’ mouth.

Various images flashed in front of his inner eye. His son Gon, so small, how he promised him he’d be able to grow up between humans and live like one of them. Cheadle, who trusted him with her own life, and the life of everyone in Yorknew, whose kindness had saved his life. And the nameless corpse, faceless human, whose flesh Ging was eating. Pariston brushed the meat off the work on Gings teeth, and held his mouth closed. As if practiced, he moved his ring finger just under the others jaw, and imitated chewing motions with it.

Slowly, the taste of the meat spread through Gings mouth, coating everything. He did not notice when he started to chew by himself. Or when he finally swallowed the bite. Paristons hand was still on his jaw, though it was no longer in a firm grasp but merely resting there as a ghosting touch.

“How did you like it, Ging?” The vampires voice was just above a whisper, and for the first time since he had seen him, Ging saw something other than a dangerous abyss in the others’ eyes. There was no comfort in them, no reassurance or regret. But suddenly he felt like he could understand him. Not entirely, not his existence or his person, but something in his core.

“More.” Gings voice was strained, hungry, mournful. For the first time in his life, he felt his humanity ripped away from him. And yet he could not care less. All he could care about in the moment was to feed, to indulge in this primal need that he had kept himself from for so long.

Pariston brushed his thumb over Gings cheekbone, “Good boy.”

He proceeded to feed the werewolf the rest of the steak, though he no longer had to motivate him to chew, or open his mouth.

After just a couple of minutes, it was all gone, and Ging let his head hang forward. His face felt hot and flushed, and he licked over his canines and incisors in a desperate attempt to recover any more of the sweet, rich taste he had indulged in. He had consumed human flesh, which he had sworn to never do. To never loose this part of his humanity, to keep this moral ground. And it all got thrown out the window. His heart ached with disappointment and regret.

A hand lifted his chin, and he starred back into those deep brown eyes who did this to him. “Do you think you want to go back to the village? Play the good sheepdog?” Pariston leaned forward, resting his hands on each of Gings shoulders, whispering in a light tone into his ear, “Do you think you can? Now that you know what you’d be missing.” His left hand gently cupped his cheek. “You don’t have to. I’m giving you an option to come with me. Soon we’ll leave this village, and head west towards the next. Join us, and you can taste to your hearts content.” As Pariston pulled back, his lips briefly brushed over Gings skin, chased by shivers and goosebumps.

“Why me? You’ve seemed to be fine hunting so far.” Ging flexed against the tight ropes again.

“Because you intrigue me, Ging Freecs. I want to know more about werewolves, about what they are capable of. What you are capable of.”

With a snap, the ropes came off one after another, a demonstration of Paristons finely sharpened nails. He stood up straight and extended a hand towards the wolf, a devilish smile on his lips. “Will you indulge me, Ging?”

And Ging pondered if he would.

#Pariging #Hunter X Hunter #hunter x hunter fanfiction #pariston hill #Ging freecs #WE FINALLY DID IT LADS

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imagethat · 5 years

Text

Garden | Dante x Reader

So, one! This is my first fic pls be nice/~\ Two! I got this idea while working on my own garden. Fluff incoming~

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In the brief amount of time you had known the Legendary Devil Hunter himself, the two of you had grown close. Despite being in a relationship together for three months, you'd never once seen where he lived. You'd been introduced to Dante through your mutal partners, Nico and Nero. The amount of endless teasing was finally starting to worry you about where your lover lived. As Nico smoked in the front seat, legs idly crossed on the dash, she and Nero decided to poke at you once more.

"Heard the power is out at Dante's again, looks like he'll have to stay with his charrrmmminnngggg lady friend." Nico cooed.

"Make sure to wash your pillows after he's gone, might have lice." Nero added, pinching his nose for a dramatic effect.

"You're one to talk! You haven't showered since I met you! I know you don't use hair gel, your hair is just so gross it stays in place!" You shoot back, sticking your tounge out at him.

While you were comfortable joking with the two, it really did worry you. Dante can be quite laid back, but you wanted to spend more time with him. That included cuddling and doing stupid couple stuff together. You'd offered multiple times to help with the rent, come by and clean, or even help renovate the old place since it was his professional office but the devil hunter dismissed your offers every time. Despite all that he made a effort to show up at your house every week. You affectionately recalled his first visit. Dante would never tell you, but the garden out front which was well maintainied and thriving always impressed him. It was the perfect introduction to the place he'd probably really call home, even if it was simply because you were there. A certain solace and comfort radiated from your home. The sheets were always washed, and the scent of lavender seemed to always perminate the air. Windows would be open with plants thriving next to them.

Curiosty had killed the cat, you might be next. Just a peak into the office would suffice you told yourself. So you promptly found some reason or other to visit the demon hunter for only the most professinal of reasons of course. So there you were. Planted in front of Devil May Cry, nervously fidgeting. Unable to decide if you should knock or scamper away. You decide to knock softly at first. After what felt like a eternity to your knotted stomach, you knocked again. This time a little more loudly, like you were assured of your actions when in reality you weren't.

"Come in!" You heard the sound of your lover say. Was it possible you woke him?

As you opened the door slowly you were half way greeted with 'Devil may Cry' before Dante stopped. You hadn't looked up yet, even though you desperately wanted to. Maybe it was just too soon, or maybe you were invading his personal space. As the thoughts spun in your head you finally spoke.

"U-uhm, well! There is a demon infestation happening on Grand Street, and Lady said I'd find you here." You meekly forced out.

"Is that so?" Dante pondered, scratching his stubble. "Never thought I'd see the day you come to me askin' for help, you're so stubbornly proud of the work you do."

"This one's really bad though! Like... R-really bad." You lied. You knew you could handle the job all on your own.

"Mmmhmmm." Was all your lover mused. Silence overtook the both of you as you finally mustered the courage to look up. You were shocked to find Dante leaning in his desk, head propped up on one hand, with the most shit eating smile on his face. The space was dirty, especially for what he called his 'professional office'. And the wall decorations were... Interesting. Dante watched as your eyes scanned over every corner of the room, already well aware of your intentions with this visit.

"Last time I checked you could slice a Empusa clean in two, so what awful creature would make such a beautiful maiden yield?" He teased, and oh how you hated and loved it.

"Surely," he said as he rose from his seat and made his way to you, "It must be such a dastardly foe." He placed the back of one hand to his forehead and pretended to be weak. If his acting wasn't terrible he could be a theatre boy with how extra he was sometimes.

"But not as fearsome as me!" You yelped as he wrapped his arms around you and picked you up in a bear hug, tickling your sides while he peppered kisses along your neck and cheek. You had to beg him to stop before he finally did, holding you up still as you catched your breath. When you finally had enough air in your lungs to think straight your wrapped your arms around his neck, burying your face deep into his shoulder.

"I'm sorry." Was all you said, and while it was muffled he still heard you.

"For what?" He mused curiously, carrying you over to his desk where he set you down. Kneeling so he was below your height just slightly. You were forced to look at him now. Your hand found his hair, playing with it softly to try and relieve some of your anxiousness.

"W-well, maybe I'm overthinking things... But I should've just asked to come over... I don't want you to feel like I'm being too forceful... But the way Nero and Nico talked about this place, I was just so worried! And-" You continued on completely unaware of the content look that had overtaken Dante's face. The place admittedly wasn't as bad as Nico or Nero made it seem, not great, but not decaying house bad either. Dante finally had enough of the rambling, silencing you with a soft kiss before resting his forehead againt yours.

"Babe, don't worry about it. Thanks... Thanks for caring so much." He said, hesitating on the last part. For Dante, he expressed gratefulness through actions due to the fact that he's very affectionate by nature. "Plus," he added, "You haven't seen the best part yet."

Despite the mischievous look in his eyes, you replied with what in a confused tone only to be tossed over one shoulder squealing.

"Up we go." He laughed as you wiggled in his grip, being carried somewhat unromantically to the upstairs bedroom.

After that night, Devil May Cry became a second home for you. Soon after you helped remodel and started helping with the cleaning. The biggest change though was the various plants placed by the windows. You started Dante out with a plant he couldn't kill.... Or so you had thought. How a man could over water a succulent, you had no clue. But he really was trying his best. All the laborious work was left to you. Changing plants locations, making sure they had the right amount of sun, opening windows. In return, Dante came over and helped you with the hard work in your outside garden. Stuff like digging, de-weeding, and planting. You honestly didn't mind seeing him in the sun with a slightly tight shirt. After that you always made it a point to discuss things more openly with him. And Dante... Well, he just seemed so much happier after that.

Though... You did leave that demon running about. Let's say it was punishment for the endless worrying Nico and Nero had caused. Yeah, you didn't forget at all...

#dante son of sparda #dmc dante #dante sparda #dante #devil may cry 5 #devil may cry #dmc5 #dante x reader #dante x you #gender netural reader #gender neutral #dmcv #dmc v #devil may cry v #imagines #first writing #dmc 5 #dmc imagines

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jawnjendes · 5 years

Text

i should be running | shawn mendes

chapter 2/?, university au, shawn x goth oc

AN: angst n smut. maybe uuuuhhhhhh lmk if you wanna see anything specific happen with these idiots?? could be smutty, angsty, or even fluffy or sumn. oh and let me know if you wanna be added/removed from the taglist.

masterlist | playlist coming soon

"He might as well have pounced on you," Patrick said, eyes on the screen of his switch. "That look in his eyes… no wonder you're in so deep."

Annalise ignored him as her King Boo threw a red shell at his Dry Bones. That was her response to his statement. Still, her cheeks went hot and red recalling the way Shawn stared her down the other night. It was practically a reflex when it comes to that guy. It didn't really help that he was literally a few yards away.

The stars had a very irritating way of aligning when Annalise and Shawn were supposed to be separated. The one time Annalise decided to hang out with a friend outside of a classroom just so happened to be the same time Shawn did the exact same thing. Not to mention, he was having another impromptu jam session with Alessia, both sat on a picnic table out in the sun. It was the same table as the one from a few nights ago, but there were more people surrounding them. Oh, and Shawn was wearing a particularly tight black tanktop, so if Annalise stared enough his way she would be able to make out the pretty tattoo on the back of his arm.

She and Patrick were sitting under the shade of the biggest tree on the courtyard, wanting to be outside, but definitely not basking in the rare sunlight. Patrick won the Mario Kart race despite Annalise's best efforts. Blame the distraction who was playing guitar and singing audibly.

"Ooo, second place, Flowers," Patrick smugly said. "You've lost your edge."

"Oh, shut up. Let's smash now," Annalise said back, closing the current game.

"Really? In front of your mans?"

She looked up at him and narrowed her eyes. "Shut the fuck up."

They had that type of banter… before Annalise was in a relationship. Before everything else. Annalise was just too flustered and distracted by Mr. Arm Muscles to join in, so she annihilated Patrick at Smash Bros for three rounds.

There was a check in every two weeks. There was only one before the semester started, and it was very quick given that Annalise and Shawn were still living under the same roof. Now that there had been some proper physical separation, it was time to do things right. Annalise still had knot after knot forming in her stomach, though. For a split second, her mind went back to diverticulitis and flashbacks of being rolled around on a gurney invaded her mind. She shook it off and marched through the parking lot.

She agreed to meet at Shawn's apartment because the semester starting meant that holes were being burnt in their wallets. They couldn't afford a simple coffee shop hang out, and it was too public for something like this, anyway.

Annalise thought it would have been too awkward for any kind of touch when Shawn answered the door. However, he immediately took her in his arms and hugged her as tight as he could. It was already very different from their last check in.

To be blunt, she really fucking missed being held in his arms. She wrapped her arms around his middle, feeling the warmth consume her whole body. She missed this so much she could cry, but she had to mask it all. Couldn't have Shawn thinking she was having second thoughts about her decision.

Shawn wasn't one to hold back, though. He leaned back and held her hands as he led her inside his place. "I missed you so much. I miss coming home to you."

Annalise didn't know what to say. Shawn's facial features were soft and completely kissable, but she resisted by letting herself into the living room. Not much had changed here in the two weeks she was gone, although she did miss playing her Switch on that huge flat screen. She was still quiet though, and it gave Shawn more room to speak.

"See, this is still like a home to you! Oh, and I still have your key, since you left it here… uh, where did I put it?"

"Shawn," she finally said before he could dash into another room and create more distractions. She nodded towards the couch so he could sit with her.

He looked at her, and his face fell a little. His shoulders hunched as he walked around to the couch. He sat next to her and looked down at his lap.

Annalise tilted her head. "You okay?"

Shawn met her eyes, bemused. "You're breaking up with me, aren't you?"

"Wha- no!" she replied, shocked.

"So we're getting back together?"

"No…"

"Annie…"

"Don't call me that," she said seriously. Then she sighed. "We're checking in. I just wanna see how you're doing."

He shrugged and leaned back, far more relaxed now. "I'm still confused as to why we're doing this. That's all I've been trying to figure out lately."

"Okay, anyway… how are your classes? How's work."

"Annalise, I swear to god…" Shawn groaned, tilting his head back. Then he looked her dead in the eyes and leaned forward. "Do you wanna break up? You moved out-"

"Because I have a dorm."

"-and you left your key behind!"

"Because I don't live here."

Shawn paused, and his expression went from aggravated to just plain sad. "You won't even answer my texts. And don't say it's because you're busy. I know that's not true."

Whatever sympathy was building up was gone. Annalise narrowed her eyes. "What does that mean?"

"You think I haven't seen you playing games with that guy in the courtyard?" he asked. "You've never wanted to sit outside with me. And now you suddenly don't have time to answer my texts. C'mon Ann, I'm not an idiot."

She pushed her tongue into her cheek as she listened to that shit. Then, she spoke coldly. "First of all, that guy is Patrick and he's only a friend. Second, I don't know what to say to someone who only says 'I miss you' every ten seconds."

"So you don't miss me at all?"

"That's not the point!"

"Then what is the fucking point?" Shawn got to his feet, completely exasperated. "What exactly are we doing here? Because I don't know what's happening anymore! Am I losing you? Are you gonna come back to me? What the fuck is happening here, Ann?"

She buried her face in her hands for a moment and took a deep breath. She did know just how much Shawn did not like the separation idea, but she hadn't realized just how shaken up he still was.

"I want you to make sure you have your priorities in check."

"What, like I'm some stupid teenager?" Shawn snapped.

Clearly, he was irrational. Annalise wasn't going to try to force him to see it her way, it didn't work when the separation idea was first brought up over a month ago. Sighing, she got up and silently went for the door.

"Ann, honey," Shawn called, following after her. "Wait, wait!" He grabbed her wrist and pulled her into him.

She faced him once again, giving him a look as she yanked her arm back.

"I'm sorry," he told her in a much calmer tone. "Explain it to me again."

"I just don't wanna see you lose your focus for other things," Annalise said. "We really went through it over the summer, remember? I don't wanna be the only thing you worry about."

"Well, I know you're strong, little fighter. But I love you too much to not worry. And I worry even more now that we're on this stupid separation thing."

Annalise kept herself from laughing. "You seem fine during your impromptu mini concerts on the courtyard."

"Yeah, because singing is the other love of my life."

"Mm, you seem comfy with that Alessia girl too."

Shawn raised his eyebrows, now amused. "Jealous?"

Now she had to laugh. "I could ask you the same thing."

"I never knew about Patrick until last week."

"You never asked." Besides, she may have left her other friends in the dark when she got into this relationship. More reasons for the separation. "And I never knew about Alessia."

"Because she's new. You sure you're not jealous?" Shawn asked with a smirk.

Annalise scoffed. "I don't get jealous."

"You told me you don't cry either, but uh…"

Oof. He knows her too well.

She smiled stiffly. "I'll see you again in two weeks."

"You don't have to. You can stay." Shawn placed his hands on her shoulders. "Stay."

"Separation is good," Annalise told him, cupping his face and loving the way he leaned into the touch. "We can't spend every minute together, I think this last summer proved that."

Shawn stared her down for a moment, his big hand moving to hold her wrist. He really tried to understand why all this was happening. He really tried to find other reasons besides the scary idea that his girl wanted to leave him. The priorities thing, the not losing focus thing, the fact that they spent too much time together over the summer… it really smelled like bullshit. Maybe she was slipping through his fingers, and maybe he had to fight before she was completely gone.

"Can I at least kiss you before you go?" he asked, his voice small and soft.

Over the last month, Annalise thought she had done well with keeping a distance and being on her own. She was regaining her own compromised independence and getting back to being a strong lady. She was good at convincing herself that she didn't need Shawn at her side all the time.

Turns out, she's just a giant sucker.

Annalise really should have known better than to do the check in here. It was way too private, too much room for certain things to happen. Shawn kissed her softly once and was about to pull back, but her hands went to the back of his neck and kept their lips together. Without missing a beat, he walked her backwards and trapped her between his body and the wall. His hands planted on either side of her head, practically towering over her as his tongue went into her mouth.

All logic and inhibitions went out the door in less than a second. It was like they were reuniting after being on opposite ends of the planet. It was like this was the last time they would ever get a moment like this again. Annalise slid her hands down his torso, feeling the heat of his body through his white tee. When she locked her arms around his shoulders, Shawn bent a little to grab the backs of her thighs and hook them around his hips. It didn’t take long for Annalise to groan into his mouth when he circled his hips into hers. It certainly didn’t take long for Shawn to get hard in his jeans either. Without breaking the kiss, he walked them both into his bedroom and kicked the door closed behind him.

It was a mess of wrinkling bed sheets and clothes flying to the floor. Annalise's ripped leggings and Shawn's t-shirt made it off their bodies, and then he grabbed her shoulder and roughly pushed her onto her back. Both of their hearts pounded as he crawled on top of her and attached their lips together again.

They didn't even make it to the pillows. Shawn was trailing wet kisses along her neck, his fingers hooking into her cotton underwear. In one swift motion, he pulled the measly fabric down her legs. There wasn't any room for slow, sensual touching and building each other up. They were already as stressed and needy as could be. Annalise was just aching for him between her legs, and she pulled on his waist to bring him closer, her stomach flipping at the heat on his skin.

Suddenly, Shawn paused and held himself up on his elbows. His lips were shiny, swollen, and absolutely gorgeous. Annalise couldn't help but trace the bottom one with her thumb. Then, their eyes met and it threatened to spoil the heat of the moment. Shawn's eyes were soft and sparkling, the rough neediness gone out of nowhere. He usually had that look when things would move slower, when he was about to bare his soul and spill a bunch of sweet nothings. He looked at her face and gently stroked her cheek, making her skin tingle so much she wanted to scratch it away.

"My beautiful girl," he said softly.

It was sweet, but Annalise did not want sweet at the moment. Her fingers went into his hair and gently tugged at the pretty locks, keeping a sultry eye on him.

"Fuck me."

A smirk tugged at the corner of Shawn's mouth before he leaned down to kiss her again. "Condom?"

She nodded and then proceeded to take off her lace cardigan while he went to the nightstand drawer. Her hands trembled as she dropped more of her clothes onto the floor, leaving her completely naked. She rolled onto her front, watching Shawn pull off his jeans and briefs in one go. Her mouth watered just from the sight of his naked body, and she wiggled her eyebrows at him.

Shawn looked into her brown eyes, licking his lips. His eyes trailed over her back and plump ass, his cock twitching at the thought of taking her that way. But he hasn't been with her intimately in far too long, and he needed to be able to hold her and see her face. Yes, it's cheesy as fuck but that's what happens when you're stupidly in love with the goth chick. Yes, Shawn was very stupidly in love with Annalise.

He circled his finger with a cocky smirk, signaling her to turn onto her back. When she obliged, he crawled on top of her with the intention of fully warming her up and building up her high, but the way she kissed him and wrapped her legs around his waist indicated that she was ready. The way that she whispered in between kisses for him to fill her up was also a good indicator as well.

"Whatever you want, baby," he told her as he grabbed his base and slowly inserted himself.

It didn't take long for her soft, sweet panting to fill the room. Her fingernails dug into Shawn's back, and he snaked his arm around her shoulders, holding her as close as he could. Their noses touched and his necklace dangled in the valley of her breasts, it felt familiar and good in a way. Resting his head in the crook of her neck, Shawn let out a slow deep breath and appreciated the feeling of their bodies connecting. Slowly but surely, he started to gently rock his hips against hers, wanting this to last.

Ann whined in the back of her throat, raking her fingers down his back. "Harder… Mmm, ruin me."

Shawn picked his head up and looked down at her. She was biting her lip, and pressing down on his back, wanting him the way she said. And who was he to deny her?

With a deep breath, he picked himself up on his knees and held her waist, pistoning his hips as quickly as he could. A groan sounded from deep in his chest, his eyes fluttering shut. He breathed out a soft "fuck" feeling her clench around him.

"Mm, fuck yes!" Ann cried out, grabbing at the sheets above her. "Oh, fuck, fuck me!"

The bed creaked and hit the wall repeatedly, mixing in with the sounds the two of them were making. Shawn couldn't help but feel smug as he watched Ann's assertive and bold demeanor crumble underneath him. Only times like these did he see her fall completely at his mercy, and god, it turned him on so much. He absolutely loved that he could bring her down to this level, make her feel so good she was rendered incoherent. He slid his hand up her body, stopping for a moment to grab her breast. Then, Ann took hold of his wrist, her eyes wide and her bottom lip jutting out. They both knew what to do. Shawn leaned over her again to properly wrap his fist around her neck.

"Like that, baby?" he asked between huffs of breath, trying to keep his movements consistent. "You like it when I fucking choke you? You like getting fucked like this, you dirty fucking girl?"

Ann mumbled and sputtered under his hold, attempting to nod her head.

"What about this?" he egged on, moving his free hand down in between them. He rubbed quick circles into her clit, causing her to clench around him even more. "Ooh, fuck. Yeah, you like that, you fucking love that."

Her mouth was open, but no sound came out. Shawn decided he liked it better when she was verbal about how he made her feel, so he moved his hand from her neck to the side of her face. Something of a snarl came out of him as he staggered his thrusts, and he found himself grabbing her chin, slightly squishing her cheeks. His nose touched hers, hot breath on her lips before he tasted her tongue. His fingers were relentless on her clit, the feeling so good he almost wanted to go down there and suck it into his mouth until she was writhing.

The sounds coming out of her were just as good, though. She spoke, sounding absolutely wrecked and just the way Shawn liked her to be. “Don’t stop… please don’t stop…”

“Mm, anything you want, baby…” he mumbled against the corner of her mouth.

It was almost ironic because Ann was the one on her back getting fucked senseless, but Shawn was ready to do anything for her. All she had to do was ask. Who was more submissive here?

He hovered over her, watching her tits bounce as he pounded into her. He watched the hair at the top of her head get messier and messier with every move. He really had to admire the fact that her intense winged liner had stayed intact this entire time. Only his Ann…

"Fuck, you look so good like this," Shawn mumbled, brows knitted. He couldn't stop himself from rambling, now feeling as fucked as she did. "God baby, you're so fucking good at taking my cock… You're so good to me… Fuck…"

Ann moved her small hands up his chest, wrapping the chain of his necklace around her finger. The look on her face changed from absolutely wrecked to something more serious. Her free hand tugged at the hair on the nape of his neck, and then she was tilting her head back and panting wildly.

"I'm close," she warned, squeezing her eyes shut. "Don't stop, I'm gonna come!"

Shawn could feel it too, and his heart nearly fell out of his body. He felt the heavenly pulses around his cock and rubbed at her clit just to make it feel that much better for her. "Fuck yeah, give it to me honey…"

She let out a noise that was both the cutest and sexiest thing he's ever heard. Her voice went up several octaves as she cried out, and her entire body twitched the way Shawn liked to see it. He growled through his teeth, thriving in the tight pulsing around his cock and the burning scratch marks on his back and shoulders. He thrust as hard as he could, needing to reach his own high now that Ann had hers. Roughly, he moved her wrists from his shoulders and pinned them above her head, his jaw going slack as he let himself go. Steady pulses of cum spilled into the condom, and Shawn tilted his head back, his orgasm so good and sweet he couldn't make any sound. He only panted and erratically gave a few more thrusts until he was spent.

Sweat coated both of their bodies, and their heavy breathing was the only sound in the air. Shawn pulled out and rolled onto his back, his eyelids heavy and body melting into the mattress. He smiled contently and then tapped Ann's wrist.

"C'mere..."

The two of them crawled up to the pillows and went under the covers, both so sleepy and content that they didn't care about the damp spot. Shawn held onto Ann's hand, waiting for her to desperately crawl into her arms. She was always shamelessly in need of cuddles and affection post orgasm, and Shawn loved every bit of it because it meant he could hold her and nose at her hair as she slept. What he couldn't put into words was put into all the chaste little touches he gave her. And she lapped it up and let herself be touched and loved every time without fail.

Shawn fell asleep before he could realize Ann was holding herself back.

It doesn't matter if it's the same night or the morning after, the walk was still shameful no matter what. Annalise was just glad that Shawn fell asleep on his side of the bed and not on her chest like he typically did. It was much easier for her to slip out of bed, put her clothes back on, and sneak out of the apartment. The knots in her stomach didn't let up once she was in the car, though. They did agree that this was a check in after all, and she could honestly say... dick still bomb.

Annalise got back to campus well after ten o'clock. It wasn't that late, but she still felt off, like she was sneaking back into her parents' house after going to a party she was told not to attend. She felt both thrilled and terrified that she did something very wrong, and the evidence was all there in her shaky legs.

Of course, Stella was sitting in the armchair facing the door when Annalise finally made it back. She wasn't alone, though. Camila was on the tiny sofa, and she perked up.

"Hey, girl," she greeted with a cheeky grin.

Stella had a knowing smile on her face, making Annalise feel very exposed. As much as she tried to fix her sexed up appearance in the car, it was easy to tell what Annalise had been up to from the amount of time she was gone.

"So, is Shawnnalise back on?" Stella asked in a teasing voice.

"They were off?" Camila asked in shock, looking back and forth between the two girls.

"That is the actual worst name I've ever heard," Annalise replied, and then her heart stopped as her phone buzzed in her hand. Without another word, she dashed into her bedroom.

"You owe me details!" Stella called after her.

Annalise didn't say anything as she shut the door and leaned against it for a moment. She sighed and let her book bag drop onto the floor, and then she bent down to untie her platform sneakers and took them off. Her phone buzzed again, and it made her insides heavy.

Honestly, she had enough guilt on her shoulders. Did she really have to add more to her plate by tapping that ass and running away? Heart in her throat, Annalise looked at the notifications.

The newest text was from the gaming club group chat. Patrick was asking when everyone was available to go to Bart. The nerves came down for a split second before reading the other text.

"Where are you?"

Annalise opened the text too, so she definitely couldn't just ignore him. She sent back some excuse about having an assignment due at midnight, and then she let the anxiety and guilt consume her for the rest of the night.

________

taglist: @normalcyisoverrated-beyou @ilsolee @mendesromano @1-800-khalid-mendussy @kitykatnumber @strangerliaa @iloveshawnieboi @poppyshawn @shawnsunflower @shawnvvmendes @yourdeflightfullyleft @havethetimeeofyourlifee @shawmndes @wronglanemendes

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes blurb #shawn mendes smut #shawn x goth gf #3 days in a row i know!!!!!!!!!#but after this we slowin it down laid ease!!!!#i wont be overwhelming with that sweet shawnblr content anymore #truth be told this is how far i got in me notebooks lol #anyways tysm for readin #tysm for the lov this series has been receiving #its keepin me motivated

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formlesscopycat · 5 years

Text

Meet Me at the Red Bridge

A Kuroko no Basuke fanfic.

Pairing: Aomine x Kise

Summary: Kuroko Tetsuya means well, he really does. So he takes matters into his own hands and goes into a mission to get his dumb friends, Aomine and Kise, together.

Read on AO3

He’s already fifteen minutes late to their meeting but Daiki doesn’t give a fuck, after all, it’s just his best friends, Tetsu and Satsuki, asking him to hang out with them on their stupid Valentine’s date.

He’s got nothing better to do than mope at home tonight, and honestly, Tetsu and Satsuki are infinitely more tolerable than watching his folks get lovey-dovey with each other. At least with his friends, they just hold hands and blush a lot like fuck, it only makes Daiki gag just a little bit. Add to it the ultimate deal breaker, Tetsu and Satsuki promised him free food, all the burgers and milkshakes that his appetite can hold, no holds barred, all Daiki gets to do is to show up on time.

Tetsu said they’ll wait for Daiki by the arched wooden red bridge overlooking the river, the one they always passed by on their way to and from Teiko.

5pm, sharp! Satsuki had reiterated. But to hell with punctuality, Tetsu and Satsuki should’ve accepted the fact that he, Aomine Daiki, Teiko Ace and future NBA star, had no sense of urgency in his bones.

Past the clearing, Daiki approaches the red bridge with careless, unhurried steps and braces himself for Satsuki’s inevitable tantrum. But instead of teal and pink heads, a splash of gold breaks into Daiki’s vision, the smoothest, softest-looking blond locks he’ll never mistake for anybody else no matter the distance. The other teen has kept his back turned towards Daiki, his lean, athletic frame half-bent against the red-painted railing, seemingly too engrossed with the rushing waters under the bridge that he fails to sense Daiki’s presence drawing near.

“Kise?”

There’s also an obvious mark of astonishment on the blond’s face, that of which on an equal level with Daiki’s, as soon as Kise pivots to face the Teiko Ace. For a moment, Daiki gets lost in his thoughts as he takes in Kise’s appearance, and he wonders how the hell Kise pulls off a look like that, casual yet quite dashing in camel-colored trench coat, layered over a knitted-gray turtleneck and dark skinny jeans.

“A-Aominecchi?” Kise stammers, his amber eyes blown wide like saucers.

“What are you doing here?” Daiki and Kise both ask at the same time. Daiki reflexively looks away out of embarrassment, and from the corners of his eyes, he’d noticed Kise do the same, almost furtively, and Daiki feels his cheeks heat up despite the February chill hanging in the air.

Predictably, it’s Kise who speaks first.

“I’m waiting for Kurokocchi, said he needs to tell me something important.” Kise clears his throat before adding, “I didn’t know you’re coming, too.”

Daiki likes to think that he didn’t just imagine the blush that briefly colored Kise’s cheeks just now.

But still, there’s something quite puzzling in their situation that Daiki can’t put a finger on.

“Huh? But I’m supposed to meet him and Satsuki, no mention of you, either!” Aomine exclaims.

“What?” Kise gets caught up in the confusion, as well. “Wait, you’re like, third-wheeling with Kurokocchi and Momoicchi?”

“Only for free food, yeah.”

“Aominecchi, it’s Valentine’s Day!”

“So?”

“So you ought to give the love birds some privacy!”

“This wasn’t my idea, Tetsu insisted that I tag along! And where the hell are those idiots, anyway?”

“Weird… ain’t likely for Kurokocchi and Momoicchi to run late like this.” With his thumb stroking his chin, Kise looks upwards into the afternoon skies already bathed in purples and oranges.

Daiki nods. Satsuki, at least, should’ve been here already. She hates being late. Daiki squints his eyes and searches around for Tetsu, but there are no traces of the Phantom Sixth Man anywhere. And how come nobody said that Kise’s coming along, too? It’s not likely that they’d just forget to mention this.

Clicking his tongue in annoyance, Daiki pulls out his phone from his jacket pocket and immediately dials Tetsu’s number. After six rings, Tetsu finally picks up the call.

“Tetsu, where the hell are you and Satsuki?!” Aomine jabbers on the phone.

“Are you with Kise-kun?” Tetsu asks in his usual calm monotone.

“Yes, he’s here! Why didn’t you say he’s coming?”

“Put me on loudspeaker, Aomine-kun. I’d like to speak with you both.”

Still utterly clueless about what Tetsu could be up to, Daiki catches Kise’s eyes first, the latter meeting his gaze with an equally baffled look, before he taps the loudspeaker icon on his phone.

“Kurokocchi, where are you, is everything alright?” Kise inquires worriedly, sliding closer to Daiki as he holds out his phone.

“Listen,” Tetsu’s voice cackles through the phone’s speaker. “You two are huge dumbasses so I decided to make things easier for you both. I’m so fed up with the two of you mooning over each other all the time and not doing anything about it. Aomine-kun, you’re crushing hard on Kise-kun since the first time you saw him, aren’t you? You always like to poke fun at Kise-kun if just to hold his attention all the time. And don’t you dare deny, you secretly collect his photobooks, I knew because I saw the stash under your bed when the Miracles had a sleep over at your house!”

“What the--the fuck are you saying, Tetsu?!” Daiki shouts, already feeling an angry vein bulge and throb on his forehead. Holy shit, did Tetsu actually exposed him like that? He never expected to be pushed off the cliff of humiliation in this manner, his well-kept secrets divulged in the open, right in front of Kise, whose eyes are blown wider than Daiki has ever seen, the blond’s gloved hands are both clapped over his mouth. Daiki swears, he’ll definitely gut Tetsu when he sees him.

“Don’t interrupt, I’m not done yet,” Tetsu continues, with barely a hint of emotion in his voice, which makes it more scathing, somehow. “And you, Kise-kun. You’ve always admired Aomine-kun, too, right? And we’re not talking about his basketball skills. Too many stolen glances don’t escape me during practice.”

At this, Kise gasps and buries his face in both of his hands.

“Always… admired?” Daiki repeats, his mind barely keeping up with the information Tetsu has just revealed. This is certainly new, and Tetsu better not making this shit up or Daiki will hunt him down and kill him again.

“...And you can’t stop talking about ‘Aominecchi this, Aominecchi that’, I’m betting my milkshakes, you keep talking about him in your sleep.”

“Kurokocchi!” Kise lets out a muffled squeak, Daiki assumes the mortification gets too much for him to handle, too.

However, Tetsu, the little shit, is unstoppable. “...But you thought Aomine-kun only likes big-chested girls. Well, you’re wrong, he likes you. A lot. So there, enjoy your date. You can thank me later, bye.”

The line goes silent, as simple as that.

Dead air weighs around the two teens, stifling and awkward.

Daiki’s throat goes dry, he can’t look at Kise, running away and hiding forever in his bedroom seems like the most convenient option and yet, he freezes on the spot, his legs feeling like a ton.

He is going to fucking murder Kuroko Tetsuya.

“Is it--is it true, Aominecchi likes me?” Kise suddenly blurts out, snapping Daiki out of his homicidal thoughts.

“I don’t know what made Tetsu spout that crap. After all the help I gave, this is how he repaid me. What kind of friend is that?”

“Uh, okay.” Kise looks down, as if his boots are the most interesting things to look at in the world.

“Don’t mind him, Tetsu’s probably having a bad case of being a huge-ass prick,” Daiki puts in, waving his hand in the air dismissively.

Pressing his lips together in a tight line, Kise just nods and turns around to go.

“Hey, Kise, where are you going?”

“There’s no point of me being here, Aominecchi. You should go home, too.” Then Kise begins to run, the rows of wood slightly creaking against his steps.

Kise’s reaction makes Daiki’s thoughts swirl and churn into a messy heap but before he figures what to make out of the situation, Daiki’s reflex had pushed him to chase after Kise. As soon as he gains ground, he seizes the blond by the wrist in a tight clasp, the effort makes Kise wince.

Kise whirls around, enabling Daiki to get a good view of his face. He sees the slight trembling of the blond’s lips as he fights the urge to cry and Daiki doesn’t quite understand why, but the sight wrenches his heart painfully.

“Please let go, Aominecchi.”

There are a million things Daiki wants to say but how and where to begin, he has no freaking idea. And there are a million possible ways for things to go downhill from here, but he knows, he knows…

It’s worth a try.

Daiki swallows the lump lodged in his throat, tries to ignore the fluttering of a hundred butterflies in his stomach.

Now or never. Daiki pushes himself to take the leap of faith.

“I never said Tetsu was lying,” Daiki begins. He doesn’t know where his speech will lead him but he’ll say it, anyway. “Yeah, I like you… not as a friend, that is. And maybe I like you a lot, I think about you all the time. That’s a lot, right?”

It all sounds so lame, so absurdly lame, and Daiki had really wished he knew how to properly articulate the flurry of sentiments he’s kept to himself for so long, all coming down to these stupid impulses, how much he likes to look at Kise, and to be around Kise everyday, and how much he thinks about Kise when they’re not together.

The soft rustle of water beneath the red bridge seems to mark the moments slipping away as Daiki waits for Kise’s reaction, fretful and breathless, the silence that chased after Daiki’s words intensifying the roar of his own heartbeat.

Kise blinks, then a smile blooms from his lips. Daiki lets go of his hand.

“Aominecchi really likes me.”

Daiki shrugs his shoulders. It feels strangely pleasant coming from Kise. “‘kay. But what about you?”

“Same.”

“Same, what? Speak clearly, you idiot!”

“You can’t be mean to the person you like, Aominecchi!”

This is so unfair. He wants to hear it from Kise himself. Did Kise make him admit his feelings so he can poke fun at him?

A staring contest commences between them before Kise says quietly, “I always like you, Aominecchi. As in more-than-a-friend like.”

Daiki lets that sink in while steadily holding Kise’s gaze, he lets himself and Kise bask in the quiet comfort of finally letting the truth out.

“So uh, what do we do now?” Daiki is still clueless as to where the revelation will take the two of them, exactly.

“Would you, um, like to go out with me?” Kise asks, amber eyes shining with expectation.

“You mean, date? The two of us?”

“Yes, that.”

“Yeah, sure. I like that, Kise.” Daiki grins as he scratches the back of his head, disbelieving how ridiculously simple things are. They just agreed to date and that had been it. The prospect of going out with Kise starts to toy with his teenage fantasies and for a fleeting moment, an image crosses his mind, of Kise and himself kissing behind the lockers after practice. For sure, he’s earnestly looking forward to that. “We can start right now.”

Kise’s smile grows bigger. “And where would you like to go?”

Daiki thinks for a moment. “How about we hit the movies?” he suggests, vaguely remembering that couples always go to cinemas in those drama series that his mother enjoys. “But I didn’t bring money with me so you’ll have to pay for everything.”

“Eh? How can you leave the house without bringing money?” Kise scowls.

“I told you, Tetsu and Satsuki promised me free food, not a… a boyfriend. Anyway, I’ll let you choose the movie. If you want the latest chick flick, fine.”

“Alright, let’s do this! Be my, um, Valentine?”

Daiki isn’t sure how to respond to that, it’s all happening too fast.

And Kise doesn’t wait for his words, either, he just takes the initiative to entwine his and Daiki’s arms together. For a tad longer, Daiki takes it all in, he lets his eyes linger on the blond because Kise at that moment, is a picture of complete bliss and the ray of sunshine that is his smile brings so much warmth into Daiki’s heart.

-x-

Daiki, admittedly, has no first-hand experience on dating and it annoys him to an extent, that he keeps on second-guessing himself, so he still blames Tetsu for putting him in a tight spot.

In the cinemas, there’s nothing much to choose from except a handful of chick flicks, Daiki thinks he’ll just sleep through it. But the fact that Kise’s right beside him, their elbows touching, the two of them actually sharing the biggest bucket of honey-butter flavored popcorn, keeps Daiki awake and hyper-conscious of even the tiniest of Kise’s gasps all throughout the duration of the film.

After Daiki cleans his fingers with tissue, he debates whether he’ll hold Kise’s hand or put his arm around Kise’s shoulder. Both are equally nice, he thinks, and it’s not an easy choice. Just yesterday, Kise and himself are mere classmates, teammates, one-on-one buddies, yet today, they’ve gone through the friends-to-lovers phase quite fast, it’s a mixture of terrifying, confusing and incredibly wonderful feelings Daiki has to find a name for.

A moment later, Daiki feels Kise shift a little from his seat, gingerly sliding closer to lean his head on Daiki’s shoulder.

“I hope this is okay, Aominecchi,” Kise whispers. In response, Daiki slides his arm around Kise’s shoulders, making more room for the blond to get closer, his head now comfortably rested on the crook of Daiki’s neck. Daiki then puts his chin on top of Kise’s head, he sniffs on Kise’s hair and catches the scent of his shampoo. The freshest strawberries. Daiki likes it so much.

“This is more than okay,” Daiki drawls. He and Kise can stay forever like that.

-x-

It’s dark outside when they left the cinemas. Daiki barely understood the plot of the movie, he hadn’t really paid a lot of attention, but he did quite enjoy the feeling of having Kise’s body pressed against his, the warm, velvet smoothness of Kise’s hand on his skin. He remembers, though, that there are lots of kissing scenes, and now, he wonders if Kise would want to be kissed later and when would be the perfect time execute his plan (though he’s very worried too, that he might not be able to do it properly).

“What’re you thinking, Aominecchi?” Kise peers up at him, curious, honeyed eyes focused on Daiki’s features.

“Nothing,” Daiki replies, looking away.

“Are you thinking of me just now, hmm?” Kise teases with a slight tilt of his head to the side. There’s this mischievous smile playing on the corners of Kise’s lips and fuck, it’s doing these things to his heart again.

Daiki’s hand moves on its own, it has given Kise’s cheek a hard pinch.

“Ouch!” The blond yelps, gently stroking the tender spot on his face.

“That’s what you get for being so cheeky. I was thinking about what to eat.” Daiki feigns a little annoyance, then he pulls Kise’s arm. “C’mon, let’s go to Maji!”

But then Kise easily pouts, refusing to move from his spot. “No way, that’s not even a good place for dates. I’ve got a better idea!”

-x-

Daiki lets himself be dragged through several train stations, no questions asked, since he knows that his new model boyfriend is adept and more experienced at these kind of things for completely obvious reasons.

When they reached their destination, it’s not really what he has in mind so Daiki turns to Kise with raised eyebrows and asks, “What do we do here, exactly?”

“Oh, I’d be perfectly happy walking around and holding hands!” Kise chimes.

They arrived at Hanegi Park at half past seven in the evening, and of course, it’s bursting with people who came to admire the delicate plum blossoms in full bloom at this time of the year. The wide pathway leading towards the lake at the center of the park is lit by hundreds of hanging paper lanterns that gently flutter with the night breeze, bathing everything else under a soft yellow glow. With their hands intertwined, Kise leads Daiki past the countless stalls selling street food, flowers, toys and other trinkets, stopping at intervals to stuff themselves with whatever snack that rouses Daiki’s appetite. Daiki makes Kise buy mozzarella cheese dog, yakitori and several bowls of heart-shaped Umaki while Kise insists on getting taiyaki, on the belief that they bring great happiness, and though Daiki’s really not that fond of the sticky red bean filling, he chooses to humor Kise in the end, who whines and keeps making these cute, stupid faces until Daiki caves in.

-x-

They stroll past the plum orchard, treading through the bushes until they hear the loud pounding of a drum from somewhere. Curious and excited, Kise pulls Daiki to the direction of the drumbeat, making their way across the sea of people while being careful not to step on anybody’s foot. Their quest leads them to a crowded open field, and when Kise realizes what the drum is for, he gets even more restless.

“Calling all couples to come join the game!” A woman in megaphone announces before she swings and pounds on to the large, makeshift percussion before her. “First couple in piggyback to round up a hundred-meter dash across the field wins this little guy over here!” She points to a short girl with dark braided hair, her assistant, carrying a giant stuffed bunny.

And the look on Kise’s face, even before the blond utters a single word, tells Daiki where this leads to, so he makes his case and declares adamantly, “Don’t give me that look, I’m not gonna do that!”

“But Aominecchi, please?” There he goes again, wielding his silly little pout and stupid puppy eyes— rounder, softer under the glow of paper lanterns above their heads—and Daiki is certain that Kise knows the extent of his charms and just how much Daiki is powerless over them.

In defense, Daiki shakes his head and deliberately looks away. “No way, I’m not carrying you around!”

“Oh, but you don’t have to. I’ll carry you!”

“No, never!”

“Pretty, pretty please, Aominecchi, do you really love me?”

“Shut up, Kise!”

“But I want the bunny! I can carry you, I’m fast, we can totally win this!”

Daiki gives Kise a sharp, warning glare but the blond is relentless on his pursuit to play. He gives Daiki a shock, jaws unceremoniously dropping in awe just as Kise crouches in front of him, an imploring demand for Daiki to hop onto his back already.

“C’mon, Aominecchi!”

“You idiot! Get up!” His nostrils flaring, Daiki grumbles and yanks Kise’s upper arm, forcing the blond to stand on his feet despite vehement protests.

“Aominecchi, please I--”

“Shut up, I’ll carry you, I’m so much faster!” He bends his knees and swoops low before Kise.

“Huh?”

“What are you waiting for?” Daiki growls, “get on before I change my mind!”

After Kise throws his arms around Daiki’s shoulders, Daiki gets to his feet, hauling Kise high on his back by grabbing under the blond’s knees before he marches closer to the row of other couples preparing for the relay.

“On your mark!” The gamemaster yells.

“Ah, this is so nice, being carried off by Aominecchi like this,” he hears Kise murmur over his ear.

“This isn’t. You’re heavy, my spine’s about to snap.”

“Get set…”

Kise retaliates by hugging him tighter, nuzzling his face on Daiki’s nape, sending in waves upon waves of warm current to the tips of Daiki’s toes.

“Stop that, do you want us to win or not?”

A round of silvery laughter coming from Kise fills the air while Daiki feigns annoyance as much as he can, blanketing his words under a growl, to save face, because he won’t be caught dead admitting out loud just how much he loves the way Kise is making him feel, Kise’s arm draped around his shoulders, feather-light breath ghosting over the back of his neck, the soft thud of Kise’s heartbeat against his back.

The gamemaster’s whistle goes off, and Daiki’s legs break into a sprint, soon he’s soaring, soaring, towards the finish line, to the edge of his emotions, the wind against his face, Kise laughing behind him, chanting his name over and over, and then nothing else matters in the world except the two of them, earning a piece of heaven tonight, the beginning of many nights and days of making memories together, him and Kise.

-x-

He’s pretty sure it’s Satsuki who tells him that first kisses are like a thunderclap, a kind of explosion that resonates inside you, the crashing of waves against the shore. Tonight, Daiki has found out otherwise--his first kiss is much comparable to the break of dawn, warm sunlight that filters through the leaves of trees, the calm of the morning before everything else stirs to wakefulness. His first kiss hadn’t turned his world upside-down in an exhilarating fanfare as he initially pictured it to be, rather, it quiets everything in him, slowing all senses, all thoughts, to a standstill.

Much to Daiki’s delight, Kise lets himself be kissed more than once, as they sit together on the front step of the Kise house, the huge stuffed bunny perched raggedly beside Kise almost a foot away. And Daiki’s lack of experience poses no problems at all, because Kise has made it so easy, so effortless, as they slot their lips together and the sensation overwhelms Daiki just as he savors everything at once: soft lips pressed on his, shifting ever so carefully with each bated breath, fingers threading through his hair, Kise’s warmth washing over him, vibrant and comforting.

“Aominecchi, we should really thank Kurokocchi for this. I want to hug him and give him all the milkshakes in the world.” Kise tells Daiki when they pulled apart to catch their breath.

“Thank him however you want. But those hugs, they’re all mine from now on. And the kisses.”

“Okay, deal.”

Daiki leans in to kiss his boyfriend again, however, the momentum gets shattered when the front door suddenly bursts open.

“Ryou-chan, it’s cold out here, why don’t you and your boyfriend go inside?” A petite, blond woman in her pyjamas, the splitting image of Kise, peeks through the door and throws the two of them an impish gaze.

The intrusion startles them and both teens stood up at once. “Onee-chan, why are you still awake?”

“Good evening, Onee-san,” Daiki curtsies, bowing his head.

“Aomine-kun’s finally your boyfriend, huh? I’m so glad! I mean, it took you forever to confess!” Kise’s sister gushes, pressing both hands to her cheeks.

“Onee-chan—!”

Yet his sister ignores Kise, commenting, “and is that Aomine-kun’s gift to you? That’s so cute!” She wheezes as she inspects the enormous stuffed animal. Then she steps back, making way for her brother and Daiki to come in. “Get inside, love birds.”

“No, Aominecchi’s already leaving, he needs to catch the last train!”

“Are you sure? We can always set up the extra futon in your room, your boyfriend’s welcome to stay the night!” She teases with a sweet smile that’s almost identical to Kise’s but not quite. Daiki thinks that the smile he comes to love is far more radiant, somehow.

“Shoo, stop embarrassing me in front of my…” Kise awkwardly pauses, and he visibly stiffens. “Aominecchi!”

“Whatever you say, lil bro!” She singsongs, biting back a fierce laugh before she disappears behind the door.

Out of embarrassment, Kise sidles over to Daiki, nestling his forehead into Daiki’s chest to conceal his face. “I’m sorry, Aominecchi, my sister wants me miserable.”

“It’s okay, she’s only worried we’ll both catch a cold.” Daiki’s arms move on its own accord, wrapping Kise in a protective embrace. “You should get inside.”

“Aominecchi is such a sweet boyfriend,” Kise remarks, lifting his flushed face towards Daiki. “Had I known you’re like this, I wouldn’t have waited—“

Daiki shuts him up by closing the distance between their lips.

When Daiki pulls back, Kise still has both of his eyes shut.

“Kurokocchi’s mission is a huge success,” Kise quips, rather dreamily.

“Wow. Thinking of some other guy while kissing me.”

Kise’s eyes snap open. “It isn’t like that! Aominecchi is the only one who has my heart!” And then, “Oh!”

Too abashed by his own words, Kise gasps, clapping both hands over his mouth. An even deeper shade of crimson overtakes his face, Daiki notices with pure amusement, despite the scant amount of light slipping through one of the windows.

“God, that’s too much sap in one night.” Daiki palms his face with a slight shake of his head, a feeble attempt to hide the blush crawling on his own cheeks. “I’m leaving.”

“Alright, just go home.”

“But you were my home.”

“Oh my god, Aominecchi!”

Daiki lets go of Kise, and he runs away as fast as he can, out into the street, his heart drumming so hard it’s swelling with bliss, with inexplicable contentment.

Fuck. He thinks. He’s gone from a brick wall to a disgusting cheeseball in a span of one night.

But Daiki has no regrets.

#aokise #my fanfiction #valentines day #aokise discord #fluff

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birdybirp · 5 years

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[[Untitled Fic]] Chapter 1 - Tiberius

Summary - An abuse survivor in recovery accidentally finds herself befriending a bunch of Satanists.

You kids ready for a first chapter that is probably waaaaaayyy too long? Good, it’s here.

This is gonna be a Copia/OC fic with some romance, some awkwardness, and some drama if all goes according to plan.

WARNING -- This sweet baby girl is an abuse victim. If this makes you uncomfortable, I’d sit this one out because it is an integral part of Evelyn’s life. Also, I take her triggers and reactions partially from my own experiences with emotional abuse and from other accounts of abuse that I have heard from friends or read. If you have any comments, critiques, or concerns with how I write these situations, please let me know! I only have my own knowledge to draw from and your input is appreciated.

Getting a cat was a mistake.

I had been advised by both my doctor and therapist to get some kind of animal companion so that I wouldn’t be so alone all the time when I left the hospital. Not that I minded my time at home, watching TV. It just seemed like a nice thought to have a furry friend around the house that could sit on my lap and comfort me in harder times. I had always loved animals, but had never had the chance to care for a pet of my own.

I had to set out to a local shelter, determined to get a dog. In a window close to the entrance, though, I saw a group of cats playing together. I took a small glance in and saw a white cat with black on his paws and around his eyes, which were mismatched green and pale blue.

I was immediately in love.

The shelter had named him Tiberius; apparently his entire litter had been named after Roman emperors. I thought the name was silly, but decided to keep it, putting the name on his adoption papers and taking him home. I figured I could call him Tibby, which looked like it fit him.

The next few weeks with him were great. I had no idea how to care for a cat, but Tiberius had very little needs. He mewed when he was hungry, used his litterbox 95 percent of the time, and curled up next to me and purred every second he could. He was a perfect cat

That is, until today.

I had opened the front door to take out the trash and Tibby bolted out like a bullet from a gun. I groaned loudly, dropped the trash bag on my porch, and sprinted after him. I did not have time for this. I had to be to my doctor in about 20 minutes to get my stitches out and those things itched like hell. I wanted them gone, but apparently Tiberius thought I needed to get in a morning run before hand.

He was so fast for a creature that was usually so lazy. I would get close to him and he would zip away, farther and farther down the driveway. It seemed like he was having fun, which made me even more mad. I thought I had him cornered at one point, until he ran between my legs and across the street. My heart dropped, hoping that no cars would hit him, and I just watched dumbly as he made his mad dash across the road. That did nothing to ease my worries, though, because as soon as he hit the other side of the street, he bolted his way through the open doors of the abbey across the street....Great.

The abbey, which I had just been calling The Church in my head, was something that no one in my neighborhood seemed to like. People mumbled about it being a Satanic church. That didn’t bother me, however, as the presence of the ‘devil worshiping’ building brought the cost of homes way down in the area. Having just come out of a...rough situation, I couldn’t pass up the price of my small one story home. I had just told myself I’d avoid the creepy, Gothic building like the plague.

And now my cat that I have only had for less than a month just waltzed in there.

I groaned again. I was going to kill that little furry shit.

But to do that I would have to find him first.

I ran across the street and slowly, gingerly, stepped through the doors of The Church. The ceilings were high, covered in metal chandeliers that seemed to have electric lights in them. All the walls were brown stone that made every noise echo. Luckily, it seemed that the church was much busier than it looked on the outside. Members of the clergy in different colored robed milled around, nuns in shorter skirts than usual following after them. There were also a lot of people in all black wearing silver masks, which was weird. Or was it normal for this church? Either way, hopefully no one would notice one anxious girl darting around them trying to find one white cat.

I kept my pace quick, giving a wide berth to anyone close to me so I didn’t accidentally bump into them. I just had to find my stupid-ass cat and leave, no big deal. However, my heart was thumping. I hadn’t been around crowds much in the past three years and this was certainly a crowd of very strange people. It put me on edge. I was tense as I went through every hallway and corridor, no one seeming to pay me any attention. Surprisingly, I saw a handful of cats walking around the place, all probably strays, but none of them were Tibby.

Time was ticking away and I really had to go to my doctor’s appointment. I wasn’t going to have these stitches in my side a second longer than I had to. But I couldn’t just leave my new furry friend in a place like this. What if they sacrificed cats? Do Satanists sacrifice cats? I wasn’t sure, but even if they didn’t, one of the strays lurking around could attack him. I swallowed my pride and approached the next person I saw, one of the people in all black with the masks.

“Excuse me...” I said, my voice shaky and nervous despite my best efforts. “I’m sorry. I’m looking for my cat. He’s white with black on his paws and around his eyes. Have you seen him?”

I couldn’t see the person’s eyes through their mask but I could tell they were confused by me. They stared, unmoving, for a few moments and I felt myself start to sweat. Then the person made a kind of chirp noise, kind of similar to one Tibby made when I annoyed him, and pointed down a dark corridor.

“Uhm...Thank you.” I said and jogged away from the strange figure. I turned to look back at them for a second and saw them staring at me, something long and black swishing behind them idly. A tail? No, no time to think about that.

I kept my jogging pace down the corridor until I heard the sharp crash of something metal hitting the stone floors and the sound of a high pitched yelp. Something in my bones told me it was Tiberius doing something he shouldn’t have and I followed the noise down another hallway. As I turned the corner, I saw a very tall metal candelabra on the ground, it’s candles thrown off of it and put out by the crash. Next to it, I saw a man pressed up against the wall, his arms spread out and his palms crushed into the stones, trembling. I looked down from the man’s terrified face to see a little white ball of fluff kneading at his leg as if he wanted to climb up him.

I quickly ran up and scooped the feline off of the poor man’s leg, holding the menace in one arm. Tiberius stretched out his paws towards the man as if he didn’t want to let go. I held his arms down and started apologizing. “Sir, I am so, so sorry!”

The man quickly snapped to attention, obviously embarrassed to have been seen terrified by a cat that isn’t even a year old. As he nervously fidgeted, smoothing out the wrinkles in his clothing, I finally got a good look at him. He was an older man, but I couldn’t guess how old. 40s? 50s? I was never good at guessing these types of things. I’m not versed in what people in churches wear, but he wore a black robe with buttons all the way down, a black sash at his waist. At the end of the sash was a symbol that was like an inverted cross, but not quite. He wore the same symbol around his neck. His face seemed to be wrinkled from looking constantly worried; creases lined his face around his eyes and mouth and were deep on his forehead. His upper lip and around his eyes were tinged a purplish black. Makeup? He also had a mustache reminded me of 1920s black and white films. When he finally collected himself and looked up at me, I finally saw that his eyes were two different colors: green and a bright white. What a strange person...

The nervous man cleared his throat and stood up straight as if to show that he was more calm and collected than he really was.

“It’s...uh...” he cleared his throat again. “It’s quite alright. I’m just...not very fond of cats.” He looked in my direction, but was obviously avoiding eye contact. I think he was looking over my right shoulder.

“I really am sorry...He’s ever done this before...” I apologized again, patting the cat on the head gently for emphasis. Granted, I had not had Tibby long enough for him to do something like this, but I wasn’t exactly lying.

And then I noticed: the man had a rat on his shoulder.

“Oh my God, was Tiberius chasing your rat?!” I gasped, holding the small cat a little tighter. I had never seen him around other animals so I didn’t know if he would behave like this. I looked at the rodent and instantly felt bad for the creature. His ears were pulled back and his small pink paws were wringing nervously. I wanted to hold it and tell it everything was going to be okay.

“Yes, I believe he was.” The man seemed to relax slightly now that my eyes were focused on the rat and not him.

“Did he hurt him?” I asked with genuine concern. He looked at me, puzzled, as if no one had cared to ask him about the animal before.

“I...uhm...” he fidgeted again and looked down at the ground. “I don’t think so...Asmodeus is one of my faster rats...I don’t think a cat could catch him.” The poor creature still looked so scared and I frowned slightly.

“This might...sound weird...” I started, feeling a general anxiety in my chest at talking to this stranger. But my love of cute furry animals won out. “But can I...pet him? Or hold him?”

Again, he looked confused. I feel like he doesn’t have people ask to interact with his pets often. He looked at Tibby, then back at me, and at Tibby again, before giving a small nod. He held a leather clad glove to his shoulder for the rat, Asmodeus, to crawl in to. He wrapped both hands gently around the rodent and held him up to me. The rat seemed more curious now than anything, sniffing the air and looking around. I gently reached out and pet the top of his head with two of my fingers as a sign of apology. The rat looked at me and, for some reason, I felt like he forgave me and my asshole cat. I looked back up at the rat’s handler and realized he was staring at me. I couldn’t read his expression at all and it made me nervous. Then a small, almost unnoticeable smile played on his lips. I felt myself turn a bit red, taking a small step back. Now if was my turn to fidget.

“I--I’m sorry again.” I stammered, the anxiety in my chest blooming and making my ribcage feel tight around my lungs. “He just got out. I live across the street and he just ran in here. I don’t even know if I’m even allowed in here--I am so, so, so sorry.” The words tumbled out of my mouth even as it felt tough to breathe. There was a long silence between us and I could feel a lump of fear in my throat growing bigger and bigger.

“I...should go.” I squeaked out, taking a few more steps back. “I’m sorry again...” I realized that I didn’t know what to call this person, so I just went with what I thought was polite. “...s-sir...?” I had turned my back to him and was walking away, feeling a slight tremble in my legs, when he spoke softly.

“Copia.”

“Huh...?” I turned and saw him looking down at his hands.

“I am Cardinal Copia.....You can come see Asmodeus another time if you would like.” And he turned and walked the other way down the stone corridor.

“C--Copia...yeah...alright....thanks...” I muttered. “Oh! I’m Evelyn, by the way!” I didn’t even know if he could hear me as I blurted out my name, staring at his back as he left. I couldn’t make heads or tails of this person. I shrugged it off and went back the way I came. The farther I got away from that conversation, the less anxious I became. When I was almost entirely calm, the urgent itch in my side started again. My stitches...I had to get going. As I walked, I held Tiberius in front of my face with both hands.

“What were you thinking, little mister?” I asked judgmentally. Tibby licked my nose in response and I sighed. I looked into his mismatched eyes and realized...His patches of black fur made his eyes look like the Cardinal’s. I chuckled.

“Maybe you were supposed to find each other.” I said, cradling the cat in my arms as I continued to power walk and find the exit. “But, you have to admit, it was really shitty of you to attack his rat.”

[[How much is Tiberius going to be in this story? Not much, but I still love this fictional kitty with all my heart. Please leave any feedback you have for me! I hope to update this once a week.

Also, tune in next time for Evelyn getting stupidly lost and having an interaction with a Papa that makes her insanely uncomfortable.

Thanks for reading!

--Birdy]]

#FANFICTION #ghost bc #the band ghost #ghost #cardinal copia #oc fic #romance fic

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james-bucky-barnackle · 6 years

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Two Night Stand (Part 6)

Synopsis: (AU) You found yourself at a club drinking away to forget about the stress of your shitty job as the assistant of the biggest Editor in New York, you end up hooking up with the man of your dreams only to wake up to a nightmare when you find out he’s the son of your boss.

PART 5 | 2NS Masterlist

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: none

Word Count: 4,075

A/N: I still have trouble with my wifi so I’m posting this part early!!!

Monday, the first level of hell. And I’m not an idiot to be late, despite getting home at 12 AM. I woke up at six and put effort into applying concealer on my Walmart eyebags. I wore a white loose halter top which I’ve tucked in my beige high waisted skirt and put a gray blazer on top. I twirled my hair into a bun, securing it with a pen which I’ll pull off when I get to the building. As much as I’d love to look nice on the streets, these curls are not gonna take the pollution. I fill Pogo’s bowl and rub his belly, leaving a chew toy next to him, Bruce will be here later to pick him up. I grab my bag and I walk out of the apartment. Wanda’s already left for work, she teaches at one of the private pre-schools, and I can’t trace one single wrinkle on her face. I guess working with kids is easier than working for Winnie. I start walking and go into my boss’ most favored cafés—my order already out front. I make my way to the counter and give the barista a wink, handing him a few dollar bills. The woman in line frowns at me, sorry honey but until you’re not Winnie, you’ll have to wait in line. I’m in an awfully good mood today, considering that it’s another day at the office, but there’s no use in being a fuzzball, I’m not in the building yet. I pull one of the cups from the tray and take a sip, mmm coffee is like my heroin. I used to get a regular latte but ever since I’ve started working for the View, I invested a little more coin into it and started ordering Winnie’s too. It’s amazing, I have no idea what they put in this, but it’s an investment I’m willing to continue cashing myself to. I put it immediately back just before I bump into a cyclist, I hear an audible apology and I immediately forgive him, just as long as no one ruins my clothes, you are all forgiven.

I’m half an hour early when I arrive at the building, which is neat. I get to warm up, because yes working for the view is sort of like training for a sport, with very fast economic risks, the risk of me not getting to pay my rent this month if I don’t get myself right. When the lift arrives at my floor, half of the employees are already there, per usual. I walk to my desk and put my things down. Okay, where’s Maria’s cubicle? I need that article before Winnie arrives. I walk gingerly amongst the sea of busy people procrastinating anything they can get their hands on. What are these people doing all day? I get to her table and it’s empty. Even when I’m thirty minutes early, this desk isn’t supposed to be empty. I pull my phone out and text her where she is.

[Home] I wiggle my eyebrows, what? I have no time for this, I hit call on her number.

“What do you mean you’re home? Are you sick?”

“Home, as in I’m at home.” She replies deadpan, as if it’s normal to be at this time of day. “I’m not sick.” What the hell is going on?

“Then why aren’t you here? Where’s the article Winnie asked you to write?” I’m itching, I’m starting to get very annoyed, I try lowering my voice when people start to glance my way.

“I haven’t written it,” holy. Shit. WHAT? A dramatic pause ensues before a loud cry breaks through my phone. “HE BROKE UP WITH ME Y/N. He. Broke. Up. With. Me.” What’s this have to do with me? “And he told me I wasn’t like anybody else, but he hasn’t been calling me in a week, so I went to his apartment then- aaaah!!!” I hear her sneeze on the other end of the line. That’s her excuse? I could get hit by a truck and I’d for sure still show up at the front desk.

“Okay,” I say like I’m trying to ease a five-year-old child. “can’t you write anything? Anything! Is there anything old on your computer I could give to Winnie?”

“And he had the audacity to tell me it wasn’t me! It was him!” Okay, she is not hearing me out. I start panicking myself, and I drop the call. What the hell am I gonna do? Maria’s gonna get me fired. I doubt Winnie’s gonna let me slide on this one. The weather guy could mess up and give her the wrong information on TV and she’d still find a way to put the blame on me. I dash to my desk almost tripping and hitting the hot coffee sitting graciously on top of it. Not today, mister.

I open a new document and then google on the side. I have no idea what to do, but I’m for sure not letting Winnie come into the office with an empty desk. I’m going to write this article and putting Maria’s name on it, even if it’s the shittiest article ever written. She’s already risked her job not coming in today, could I really make things worse? Milan fashion week, Milan – fashion – week, Milan… Nothing is coming to my head. How am I supposed to know how describe anything? I attended the event sure, but mostly I was just trying to keep my snarky remarks to myself, sitting behind Winnie on the front row of the runway. I can’t think of anything, apart from my feeling queasy when I saw Thor walking the runway looking all fresh and snazzy. I made him, I gave him that career. Focus! I start googling for photos taken by the View’s photographers and I type furiously. I’ve got twenty more minutes; I haven’t written anything in so long. Isn’t this supposed to come naturally? Like riding a bike? It doesn’t go away? All my brain contents are Winnie’s schedule and coffee orders, come on! I spent big bucks on college, work for me, brain! While I’m questioning my own competence, my phone notifies me of a text, “Good morning, doll.” As much as I’d love to respond and giggle to myself, I need to focus. I flip it face down, and face the monitor. How does Maria even talk in her articles? I haven’t read anything she’s written, screw it!

Everyone who’s asking me anything about other things unrelated to my boss and this article has been shooed away and given the hand, by my hunched over self. At this rate, the computer should be releasing smoke.

Most people don’t even have the least bit knowledge on the things they wear, others know more about the brand more than they know themselves. Fashion has turned worlds reeling into first glances, wear the wrong shade of pink and you’re out. |

I continue typing Maria’s article not even knowing which direction it’s heading. Oh god, is this even an article? It sounds, so—stupid, that’s the word. Best case scenario, Winnie reads this and thinks it’s a draft and Maria will be here tomorrow to rewrite an entirely new one; worst case scenario, she burns this paper and Maria will be unemployed, which I never thought I’d not mind until she’s made me incredibly haggard looking like Quasimodo in front of my computer instead of the Esmeralda I longed to be when I came out of the apartment.

Milan’s fashion week gives us a peek of not just the trends you think will be rocked by the young and wealthy of this generation, but of how pattern, shape and form is a huge mark of character when wanting your presence known in the world. Your clothes are your brand, it’s their job to make them look and your voice to make them listen.

Okay cheeseball, we’re printing you. I click the icon and it’s started inking the paper. I want to puke at how cheesy that last paragraph is, but come to think of it, the entire article was destined to be a failure the moment I’ve started writing it. It’s obvious that an ignorant on cashmere wrote it. I hear the printer stop buzzing and I pull it out the tray, raising it up and twirling in my office chair. I did it, or should I say, Maria did it. We did it! And I’ve got three more minutes to go. I pull the pen off my hair, and salvage what’s left of my curls. This looks… decent. I pat my forehead with a napkin, that article was a workout.

The floor grows silent, and there’s only one explanation for that. I stand up, reach for her cup and stand by the door. It’s the perfect temperature, bordering on still hot and are you sure this is still hot? Just the way she likes it. I see her, walking on the aisle and everyone looking and walking elsewhere, not wanting to be in the same lane as her, you don’t want to be in the same lane as her. She’s got her shades and her fur white coat on, and those gorgeous red heels. Her gray hair miraculously curled, framing her face, and even with all that beauty, you know beyond those dark lenses that she’s an evil woman. You can’t have everything, I guess. She gets to the door and I open for her, show time.

“Good morning, I have Maria’s article here and your coffee.” I run behind her and she opens her palm, I gently place the cup. She pauses and bring her shades down her nose to look at the Louis Vuitton handbag sitting where it’s always been, clean and perfectly, seemingly untouched. I see her grin, yes Winnie, no one’s going to jail today. “You have a meeting in 2 hours, and then Clint asked if you could check the creative department this afternoon to review the clothes for the editorial.” I place the paper on her desk, she removes her shades and looks at it. She glances at me from her chair, and my eyes grow wide.

“Right, yes I’m leaving.” I run to the doors and flop on my chair spinning it in a direction where she’s on my peripheral vision. I pretend to type something, please don’t fire me. Please don’t fire me. Please don’t fire me. I repeat it in my head like a mantra.

“What are you typing?” I jump in my chair, it’s Sam. “AHwufuef hswuqodb udnidnl---”

“What are you doing here?”

“Is that a new language? The new Morse code?” I bite my cheek, and spin my chair in his direction. I need this chair in my house. I raise my eyebrow and cross my arms. “Nothing, I work here too you know? Why shouldn’t I be on this floor?” he says as a matter of fact. I shrug and spin back to the angle I was gazing at Winnie on.

“Is that a letter from the president?” he says pointing through the glass partition.

“What? No.” I wrinkle my nose.

“That’s odd, she’s still reading.” Holy shit what does that mean? Is that good or bad? Every time any of the writers would submit an article I don’t give enough care to look at Winnie reading, but I’m pretty sure she reads them, I mean that’s her job. And my mornings consist of putting things on her desk and leaving, I don’t know what she does in there.

“Your point is?”

“I’ve been here for more than a year, she doesn’t read articles that long. She reads the first paragraph and the last sentence, then puts it down.” Holy crap, I might’ve just written the worst article known to mankind and she can’t take her eyes off it in disgust. She’s probably getting sore eyes from reading my words. Think positive, maybe it’s the opposite. Maybe she likes it? I move my head forward and stare at her, her eyes squinting on the paper. It’s disgust. Holy shit, sorry Maria, you’ve killed your career the moment you didn’t go to work, that was me trying to salvage whatever brownie points you had.

“D’you write it?” Sam’s voice scares me off again. I shake my head violently. “If you say so.” He crouches down and whispers in my ear before laughing and spinning my chair in the direction of my computer. I’ve been pretending to type on the same document I’ve written the article in. I blow air into my cheeks, great James Bond-ing Y/N. I exit the document and open my phone, oh shoot, Bucky! I text him back “Good morning to you too.”

A few seconds later, my phone buzzes, he sent me a photo of him in his office with his eyes closed and his tongue out, with the caption “meeting later, I’m sleepy.”

I look up my desk and when no one’s looking I snap a quick selfie of my fingers looking like they’re holding Sam who’s standing far enough just to look like a toy. I think of a funny caption and hit send. “Maybe I can send Sam in to proxy you.”

He replies with another photo of him, his eyes staring into the camera, giving me puppy dog eyes. He looks so cute, I’m literally pouting. His brown hair looking luscious, oh how I’d love to run my hands through his hair. “Can you send yourself instead?”

I flush, I reply with three laugh emojis, not really knowing what to reply. I gotta play hard to get sometimes, what happened to miss workaholic and focused? Bucky Barnes has quite a way with me alright. “I guess I was shipped to the wrong Barnes,” I type in, sneakily taking a photo of me mid shrug with Winnie in the background.

“Ugh! Damn delivery service, always getting my address wrong!” I giggle. Before I could type in another reply, I hear my phone ring. Right, I’ve almost forgotten I’m at work.

“Hi! This is Y/N from the View how may I help you?”

“I’d like to talk to Winifred Barnes,”

“Who’s calling?”

“Sandra Wang,” I gasp, the Sandra Wang? I skim through Winifred’s list of people I am not to connect the phone to… and she’s on it.

“I’m sorry, but she’s currently unavailable. You’re going to have to set an appointment for a formal meeting.” I scramble across my desk in search for my planner, “she’s free on-“

“No need, I’m already in the building.” My jaw drops, what did she just say? Did I hear that right?

“I’m afraid, I’m going to have to-“ she hangs up on me. I dial her number on the telephone, and of course she’s not going to take it. Oh, no. I start biting my nail, flustered. Surprise visits? For Winnie? That’s a very hard no. And it’s Sandra Wang, one of the designers lined up for the fashion ball, her coming here uninvited doesn’t sound like good news to me.

I call Sam real quick, who’s flirting with one of the girls in the office, waving my hands frantically and begging him to hurry up. He arrives at my desk and I tell him what’s happening, or should I say, what’s about to happen. And he’s now biting his nails too. The two of us start pacing around my table, we look like the Hardy boys.

What does she have to say that can’t be over the phone? Is she pulling her collection off the ball? Is she dying? Somehow, in some twisted way, Sandra, dying sounded better that having to look for another designer to replace her slot at the ball. Winnie’s influence is overwhelming. The sole reason why we’re both panicking over what other people might think is ridiculously so little of an issue is because 1) as I’ve mentioned multiple times, uninvited guests are unwelcome, count family off the list. 2) Winnie hates her daily routine rearranged, anything that disrupts the schedule. Anything that happens wrong on a Monday, reflects through Friday, and I’m not about to have a target on my ass. The last time this happened, she fired 14 people in the floor. One of them were fired just because Winnie heard her breathe too loud when they were in a meeting. By golly I was scared, it was just my first month on the job, and that’s when I knew I was in deep.

“Did she say where in the building?” Sam asked, momentarily taking a break from his nail biting.

“No?!”

“I’ll stall Sandra, tell her she’s not in the office, and you block Winnie, ask her to do something else or tell her to pee!” Sam whispers, his hands doing wild gestures.

“Ask her to pee?!”

“You know what I mean!” we both run on opposite directions. He pulls out his phone and calls someone. I enter Winnie’s office not even knowing what to do.

“There you are, submit this for proof reading, I want it printed on this month’s issue.” Winifred tells me the moment I enter then hands me the article I just wrote. Holy cow! I can’t believe this is happening, what?! I bite my lips trying to hide the ginormous smile my lips can’t seem to shy away from. Maria owes me big time.

“You got it!” she whips her head, raising her eyebrows at me. Whoops, too much enthusiasm. “Uh- yes of course…”

“What are you still doing in my office?” Oh right, Sandra Wang! What could I say that’ll make her leave the office? I can’t think of anything, anything that’s plausible. A tarantula got in your desk! Or fire drill! I mentally smack my head, fire drill my ass. I know! I’ll tell her Bucky’s outside, I’m sure he’ll back me up, right? Then I can just tell her he suddenly got called for work. Okay that sounded pretty stupid, but it’s better than the first two things I’ve thought of… I think.

“Uhm, there’s someone in the building—”

“Bucky is the perfect cover for Dolores,” hold up what? I walk a little to the back as two women walk into the office with Sam outside the glass walls giving me an apologetic shrug that spells “y-i-k-e-s”, to which I replied a look that spells “r-e-a-l-l-y-?-!”. I guess 14 people on the building might need to start packing now, or more. The woman who’s just spoken looks like she’s in her mid-forties, black hair pushed back, and snaking straight on her back. She has olive skin and small almond eyes, a sharp black liner on her lash line, I bet it could kill. A red head was behind her, she has legs that can go for days, she has beautiful freckles on her cheeks, and her teeth gapped in the middle. She looked like a cover girl.

“Sandra, nice to see you too.” Winnie replies, but gives me a killer look, I give her one of my signature apologetic smiles. And I’m glad she doesn’t reply with my unemployment.

“The girl in the orange camisole, the mystery girl- I have her right here.” Sandra pulls Dolores from her back. I don’t know if I should leave, but I for sure don’t want to and so I figured to leave when Winnie asks me to. Until then I’m getting front row on this devious plan. The girl in the orange camisole? I’m sorry Sandra, but that’s not her, I would know.

“I didn’t think you for being color blind, Sandra, but I’ve seen the photos. The girl caught snogging my son had ____ hair.” My eyes grow wide, she has seen the photos! I shake my head, of course she has, Y/N. But it’s been two days, and I’m still pouncing in this office. She didn’t recognize me? I don’t know if her not acknowledging anything is a good thing.

“As if you haven’t been involved in rumors, Winnie. We could say she dyed her hair.” Sandra smiles, wickedly. What is going on? Who is this Dolores anyway? And what’s this cover for? “This is buzz! This could give my niece her spotlight back,” spot light? I try to recall where I’ve seen her face, but nothing comes to mind. “and Bucky and Dolores have been linked in the past before, it would be the topic of the century.”

“If I wanted to make a rumor to be the topic of the century, I would’ve asked my assistant to pretend to be the woman in the photo. Don’t you think that would be more scandalous?” I choke, an audible one, which makes the three of them look at me. I laugh, hysterically and when no one joins me, I shut the hell up. I smile, funny Winnie. Funny, funny, Winnie. I start fanning myself with the article I’ve written.

“What have you to lose Winnie? In my side of things, I think it’s a fair trade. A good one too.” She puts her hands on Winnie’s glass table. She hates that, she really hates it when people touch her desk. “All your son needs to do is take Dolores as his date to the ball, they’ll wear my designs… Unless you want me to pull my collection out your ball.”

“You do know it’s more of a loss for you than it is a loss for me, right?” I want to laugh because it’s true. Every designer longs for the exposure on that ball, no matter how old or big your brand is, a slot at the View’s ball is to die for. But still, its half a bluff, since we wouldn’t be able to replace Sandra under a week’s notice. And the press will be all over us, which is something Winnie is not a fan of when things are still being prepared. “But fine, if this is your way of getting your niece a date.” WHAT?

Sandra looks insulted, but she still managed a smirk to spite her colleague. She removes one of her leather gloves and offers it to Winnie to shake. I already know what’s going on my boss’ face, she hates handshakes, if there’s a bill on it she’d be the first to sign it. She waits until Sandra gets impatient, and she doesn’t, so Winnie sighs and shakes it anyway. And right after she does, Sandra flashes her million-dollar smile and leaves the room, but not before looking me up and down. And I can say the same for Dolores, who’s made it a point to look at me during Sandra and Winnie’s conversation the way they both looked at each other. Like we’re their mini-mes and I cringe, but not as much as I’d cringe if I was Sandra’s mini me.

“How desperate.” Winnie scoffed as soon as the two have made their exit. I pull a small bottle of alcohol out of my blazer’s left pocket and spray some on Winnie’s already waiting hand. She gestures on the place where her two unexpected visitors have just stood and I spray that as well.

“Next time you let anyone here without an appointment, you’re fired, Y/L/N. I don’t care if you can write a good article, I don’t want unnecessary people taking up oxygen in my office.” Fear rushes through my body, how did she know? I didn’t even realize she’d given me a compliment.

“But I didn’t- It was Maria—"

“Maria already called in sick today,” that bitch. She didn’t even get me a heads up. I worked my ass off for that paper, and here she is calling in sick? I worked my ass for nothing. Well, maybe not nothing. Did Winnie just say I write good stuff?! My inner goddess is beaming, my lips start to curl up. I can’t wait to tell Wanda.

She then turns to me, waving a finger, “Get back to work, and call Dolce and Gabbana, tell them to cancel James’ fitting. Guess we’re settling with Sandra Wang.” I spoke too soon.

I’m dumbfounded, so many things have happened under one conversation and I haven’t processed a single thing. What the hell just happened? Not a second later, I feel my phone vibrate. Nat just texted me a photo of the dress I’m wearing to the fashion ball. Great, I can’t wait.

PART 7

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thegreymoon · 5 years

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Sorry, You didn't really say or do anything to make me think that you are Asian. I thought that I read sth in your lj where u said that you were and just run with it. It was a long time ago and I must have misread. Also, you don't really post a lot political stuff, it is more like I notice it more because when I visit your page I skip all Merlin related stuff and am interested in the rest so again my fault. As for my ise of imaginary- yeah, it was passive agressive, altough not intentionally so

… my bad. I rarely engage in political conversations online because it never ends well, especially when my views clash with 90% of tumblr users so I am used to combative tone and it was unnecessary.. As for SJW I am not sure if that is dissmissive term as it discribes the “movement” well? I am not native speaker and am aware that it can be used as derogative term, but was also convinced that it is used by people on the left if political spectrum. I asked you why you are mainy interesetd in USA because I was working under the assumption that u are Asian it seemed to me weird that a person coming from China/Japan etc would be championing social justice in USA when it not that big of a problem(or at all IMO) whie ignoring very real problems in their own country. But since you are not Asian and you post political stuff rarely you are right it is a silly discussion. The fault is completely on my side. I am allergic to these kind of stuff and you are one of my favourite writers so I exaggerated. Once again sorry.

As for the rest of your response: I also come from relatively poor country that was screwed over by both Britain and USA and many other countries, and I don’t agree with many of their policies (or most) but I don’t hate them and believe that as much as people like to say they start wars for the oil etc it is not really true. There are many political and global players and everyone single country is motivated by greed it is only that not every country can exercise their power.

Relatively they are not the worst, it is just that since USA tries to paint themselves as heroes they are held to different, much higher standards than other countries. To sum it up, I am not defending their foreign policies, they have done a lot of wrong and are shortseighted but I still think that are better than other superpowers that will soon take over like China or maybe India. Also, I don;t understand why would you include global warming in your answer?why do you believe it is their fault

I am trying to leave as “green” as I can, I am a vegetarian and I believe we should do everything to preserve environment, but I wouldnt want my country to sign any deals concerning CO2 emission as long as other countries do not do the same. Otherwise, they would just cripple their economy and not help the world? As for Trump(if you are still interested) I find him the epitome of self-important, conceited stereotypical american but still so much better than alternative and despite distaste. would still vote for him. Because he at least apppears to be anti globalist and has a much higher moral ground than Hillary. what are his SPECIFIC actions that you find so abhorrent? Anyway, what I alluded to in my message was not politics of USA but the social justcie issues, like support BLM or me to movement(I am not sure if you posted enything regarding that, so srry if I presume wrongly) which I find are absolutely not based on facts and despite that people still perpetuate that, and if u don’t agree you are racist and sexist. No arguments whatsoever. It is also silly to me when I see the posts about the West being this cesspool of sexism while honour killings or FGM is nearly a non issue on social media or racism when considering the West is still the least racist place in the world when you compare it to China/India/SA or any other place. So, I find the social media effort to be misdirected and controlled by emotions. Even the indigineous people issued you mentioned. Americans get so much shit for their history, while pretty much every single country that exist was created by conquering or displacement of the previous population(u just have to go far enough down the history). So, yeah wht happend to Indigenous people and dissappearance of their whole civilization is a great tragedy but not the first and unfortunately not the last in human history. Why are we hearing about it but not about Anuit people or Persian or Byzantians? it is so imbalanced. Ok, anyway, sorry for the rant it shouldn’t be directed at you and tumblr is definitely not the place for it. Sorry if I offended to you. As I said I love your writing, “DC” is my all time favourite fic, and because I creepely once read through all of your lj(including asks and responses) I(like an internet creep and stalker)liked you and thought you seemed smart, well balanced and knowledgeable so I guess I felt entitled to to make the ask. Wish you all the best in life.

No worries, I’m sorry I came off so aggressive in my answer. I did actually live and work in China for a while during my LJ days and it’s entirely possible I may have tagged myself as being there on my fandom profiles at the time. It was a happy period for me and I talked about it a lot to anyone who had the patience to listen, so it’s very plausible that you have read something about it on my LJ! I’m very sorry if it was misleading, but I was only ever an expat there!

I used to be a lot more open about my real name and real-life dealings in fandom communities, but that almost backfired spectacularly, so I locked down a lot of stuff because it could do me quite a bit of damage.

OK, I concede your point that if you remove the Merlin stuff, a lot of what is left on my Tumblr is going to be either me reblogging cats or raging about social injustices (oops) 😅

I’d just like to make it clear that I absolutely do not hate either the USA, the UK or any other country in the world. Like I said, people are people, and disgusting policies are disgusting policies and every single country is guilty of them. It’s just that some have a bigger impact and are more visible. My own country is a source of so much shame and anger for me, it far outweighs anything the UK and the USA could have ever done because it’s personal, but our nonsense is just not something that I come across when casually scrolling through Tumblr, so I don’t reblog it. It’s possible to love a nation and its people and still be critical of the evil they have done.

Also, let me just clarify that I’m bothered by all injustices and human rights violations everywhere, but usually there isn’t a post about them when I’m scrolling at 2 am at night that I can reblog. The USA is just… low hanging fruit, and let’s face it, from where I stand, hating on their president, the white supremacists, the Nazis, fundamental Christians, racists and the Republicans in general after what they have turned into is not hating on the USA, but rather cheering on the sane part of the country to get rid of this toxic waste ASAP. The same goes for Brexiteers in the UK and I am so, so sad for all the people that are going to suffer because of it.

Of course, I’m aware that China and Japan have issues and human rights violations that are mind-boggling, but again, they just don’t appear on my dash very often, or at least not in English or from a source I can easily fact-check. The Japanese and Chinese stuff I follow is mostly art, nature and pictures of pretty clothes. My knowledge of either of these countries is very superficial compared to Western countries, which impact me directly, so it really isn’t my place to appoint myself as a champion of human rights in the Far East when my own country and continent are a growing dumpster fire that cannot be contained.

On the subject of global warming, I’m not blaming the USA (entirely, because they, of course, played their part, but so did the rest of humanity). I’m enraged by their governing body’s rhetoric as of late, the denial of climate change, every single action that Trump took since taking office (such as withdrawing from the Paris climate agreement), him making ignorant, snide remarks in the middle of the polar vortex just days ago while people were suffering, deliberately sabotaging scientists and spreading dangerous, false information when each and every single country should be all-hands-on-deck if we want to avert a disaster of global proportions (especially with all the signs pointing to us being too late already). Nobody is suggesting that the USA should unilaterally reduce carbon emissions, all countries in the world must do it and develop the technology to make it feasible to convert to clean energy. And yes, the USA, China and other giants have to lead the way because they are the ones with the power! My poor, tiny country is not the one that can impact anything, so yes, the USA is absolutely more responsible to lead the way forward, but instead of at least moving in the right direction, Trump is deliberately lying and sabotaging all effort because he likes the money he gets from Big Oil companies, and he’s giving a platform to religious nutcases for votes, who think that there won’t be a global disaster of epic proportions in the near future because God promised Noah he would never again flood the entire Earth in the Old Testament. It’s not even the outright evil that is bothering me the most right now, but the mind-numbing stupidity.

I have nothing but loathing for both of the Clintons. They have caused so much destruction in my country and I do not want good things for either of them, ever. I will never pretend that Hillary Clinton is anything even resembling a good person because you do not reach that level of power by having a conscience, but at the very least, she is not a rapist and paedophile that the general public knows of (which is more than we can say for her husband, btw). Trump has no moral high ground whatsoever, IMO. He has done everything imaginable, from scamming charities (this was proven in court) to raping minors (see Epstein). He has no redeemable human characteristics and is not even intelligent enough to pretend that he does, which is at least one thing that Hillary has going for her. I’m not going to sit here and list all the reasons why Trump is abhorrent because a) it cannot fit in a Tumblr post b) I would be sitting here for years.

I will also not engage in discussion about whether or not BLM is a valid movement, ever. I don’t understand what you mean when you say it isn’t based on ‘facts’. Which, facts are in doubt, exactly? It’s based on multigenerational, still ongoing trauma and persecution of an entire race of people! I’m neither black nor an American, but I believe African-American people when they talk about the terror they experience on a daily basis in their own country. I have eyes and I have ears, I know plenty of white people and have insight into how they think because I too am white and have been raised with similar bullshit. I have lived in Africa for years and seen things with my own eyes. I will never not take the side of black people when they protest racism anywhere and I will never not believe them when they talk about police brutality, race-based violence and systemic racism in countries built on slavery.

Of course, I’m not saying racism doesn’t exist in other places and in other forms, but talking about one does not negate the other.

Also, I don’t understand the point you’re trying to make about the West not being sexist because other places have it worse? I’m sure I misunderstood this, so forgive me if that is the case. FGM is terrible, yes, but that in no way invalidates other types of gender violence that still ruins the lives of countless women. Just because the women in, say, Saudi Arabia have it worse, that doesn’t mean that the women here or in the USA should not talk about issues that directly affect them (and, btw, I have absolutely been outraged about Saudi Arabia and FGM and shared posts about both). All are bad! This is not a competition.

On the topic of you saying that America gets so much shit for its history, which you think is unjust, I have to mention that European settlers killed up to 95% of Native Americans in some areas in relatively recent history. Just days ago, I was reading an article about how they killed so many people, it actually changed the global climate! This is genocide on such a massive scale, my brain can’t even comprehend it, and yet here we are today, with Columbus Day and Thanksgiving as holidays while the surviving Native Americans suffer all kinds of indignity and discrimination, so no, I don’t think we are talking about it enough and I feel that America deserves all the shit it gets for its history. IMO, it is not getting enough shit! The fact that there are other issues out there that need to be talked about too and are being silenced does not in any way take away from any of this.

Anyway, let’s not argue about which country is The Worst™ and which human rights issues are more worthwhile than others because that is pointless. We already agree that all governments are corrupt, that evil happened and is still happening all over the world and that all human rights issues are important. I firmly believe that if they were to be evaluated by a psychiatrist, 99% of all high-ranking politicians would be diagnosed with serious clusters of antisocial personality disorders. Most of them would do anything and the only thing stopping them is whether or not they can get away with it. The remaining 1% cannot really do much and keep both their conscience and political power intact.

In any case, the last thing I want in life is to get into Tumblr discourse with LJ people, so how about we just put this behind us? Let’s agree to disagree on who is worse, Trump or Hillary, because that is a pointless disagreement, especially since neither of us is an American and this is getting out of hand. I feel like we are actually miscommunicating and talking about different things. We seem to be arguing different points, so all of it is coming off worse for both of us than it really should be. Also, I wish you hadn’t sent me this ask anonymously, because I now have no way of responding to you except publically, and Tumblr is seriously not a good place for this.

On a happier note, I’m very glad that you enjoyed DC! I’m very sorry for the extremely long hiatus! Unfortunately, I’ve been going through things that stopped me from writing for a long time. I hope that one day I can still come back and finish that story, in spite of everything! Have a good day/night! :)

*hugs*

#social issues #Anonymous #tl;dr

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faintblueivy · 6 years

Note

“She’s hot but she’s evil.” BoruSara

Hi everyone again! This time it’s Borusara Detective/thief AU! This is my first time attempting something like this so I hope it was not a mess. Do tell me if you enjoy it. @ameerahzafar1313 This is for you, sweety!

Princess RED

“Shit! Are you kidding me?! We lost them again?!” Boruto screamed, glaring fiercely at his subordinates.

“And not just we let them go,” Shikadai drawled lazily, although, the frown over his brows and sharpness of his eyes let otherwise, “We even let them steal the Musgravite stone.”

The young men trembled with fear in front of the raging man and felt their hands getting clammy at the intensity of his boss’s fury.

Boruto turned around and rammed a fist against the table top letting out a sound of frustration. After all, this would definitely be the biggest blotch on his up till now sparkling carrer.

Boruto Uzumaki hated losing more than anything!

He was one of the youngest detectives ever with powerful instincts, a sharp mind and an unconventional way of thinking which allowed him to find ways to perform necessary antics which even left the most shrewd thieves speechless. But the biggest reason of his success is his amazing team, a group of competent individuals capable of accomplishing anything.

But since the day he’s taken up this case there’s been nothing but defeat on his hands.

This is the first case that they’ve been unable to crack despite taking months to reach any proper conclusion. It was not that they didn’t have clues but rather the opportunities slipped right through their fingers. Not because they were incapable, stupid or lax but rather their opponents were too fast and cunning.

And their infamous nemesis are - The Red Crown.

If you would ask Boruto what The Red Crown is, then he’ll say that they can be accurately explained as a band of female Robinhoods. They steal from rich corrupt people, be it politicians or businessmen and bestow the stolen capital upon the organisations dedicated to help the needy and poor people.

Boruto would not lie. He greatly respected these people for their incredible efforts to help and provide the society but sadly, in the eyes of law, these women were nothing more than a group of lawbreakers.

Though, he did not want to get them captured just for the sake of his career or for the flawed law system. Rather, he has his own reasons.

And the reason is… Princess RED. If you ask who is princess RED? Well the answer is, Princess RED is the rumoured leader of The Red Crown.

They say that she is the trump card for The Red Crown. A woman who can be best described as an embodiment of grace and beauty. Mistress of an attractive and charming attitude and the most enchanting smile that anyone would sacrifice anything for.

Weirdly enough, any person who has ever encountered her never remembered anything. Not her looks, not her words, not her voice. Nothing was attached to their memories regarding this woman except for her character.

She was like a nymph.

And Boruto… desperately wanted to get a glimpse of that nymph that people claimed to have seen but whose existence has never been confirmed.

“Boruto.” Mitsuki’s familiar voice jolts him up away from his thoughts.

“What is it?” His voice is muffled as a hand is placed over his face to hide is exasperation due to the failure in the recent event.

“I’ve checked repeatedly. There was no loophole in the security system or the plan. I believe this is the work of Princess RED.” His voice hints a bit of interest.

The speed at which Boruto’s head swivels towards him, Mitsuki wonders if his friend had a whiplash.

“Princess…RED?” His voice is nothing but a whisper at the revelation. So he almost had her? Another large groan escapes his mouth.

“Mitsuki. We’ll get them next time for sure.” Mitsuki does not fails to notice the new light in Boruto’s eyes turning them into a sparkling blue colour.

And he smiles.

…

It was past midnight when Boruto was going through a few papers when his phone rings and an unknown number is displayed. Boruto raises his brows but picks up anyway.

“Hello? This is Boruto Uzumaki speaking.” He says monotonously, still busy flipping papers of the file.

The voice from the other end is of a female.

“I know who this is. That’s why I have called…The Blue Sun.” The tone of the woman is definitely smug and Boruto actually drops the file.

“The…Blue Sun?” He breathes. The Blue Sun is the codeword that is used to refer to him and is a highly confidential information that is only reserved for him and his team mates and barely a handful of people outside of his team.

“Who are you?” His words are drenched in apprehension. Suddenly, it strikes him like a lightening bolt. “Wait! Wait! Wait! It can’t be! You… you’re Princess RED?” His heart is pounding faster than ever and he wonders if it was due to the thrill or anything else.

“Aaah! So, you’re as smart as people claim you are. I’m glad to know.” Her voice is not sweet and shrill. It’s deep, rich and velvety. And something twists in his stomach.

“So, why did you call me Miss. Red? To mock me at my failure?” He has no idea why he’s being rude to the woman even though she still hasn’t said anything to offend him yet.

And she doesn’t take his jab.

“Actually, it’s just the opposite Mr. Blue. I called you because I wish to meet the person who was just a hair breadth away from having us.”

Boruto finds his eyes widening and tries to track the number on his laptop as discreetly as possible.

The voice comes again, “I know you’re trying to track me Mr. Blue. But it’s useless. I’m currently sitting on your favourite table at your favourite restaurant. You have five minutes to reach.” And then she cuts off.

Boruto looks at his wrist watch and dashes down to the nearest thunder burger shop only bothering to grab a jacket. The rain pelts hard against his face but he keeps running.

He was going to see Princess RED? He couldn’t believe it. Although he still has his suspicions but he was not going to miss this opportunity.

Even at night, the streets were busy. He enters the shop in a frenzy and makes a mad run towards the corner of the shop, right infront of the large window and stops dead in his tracks.

He could only see her from behind, a curtain of pitch black hair cascades down her shoulders and reaches to the mid back. As she turns her head to look at the water striking the window panes he notices the red glasses over her eyes and she is sitting draped in a red knee length dress.

Definitely her name fits her.

And he then, after gathering his wits, walks to stand in front of her.

Deep onyx eyes clashes against brilliant blue ones.

The richness of her slightly red lips strike out strongly when combined with the paleness of her skin. Her lips quirk into something akin to a smile as she brings up her wrist and taps the dial of the watch.

“Four minutes and fifty seven seconds.”

“Huh?”

“You might’ve reached seven seconds earlier had you not stood up there staring at me.” She says, her smile now transformed into a full blown smirk.

Boruto feels the tip of her ears turn red but he simply drags the chair and makes himself sit infront of her.

She’s…damn. She’s everything he’s expected and even more. Now he knows what makes people putty in her hands but yet his admiration for her is still not enough to make him turn his gaurd down.

So, he asks, cautious and maybe slightly flirtatious, “What do I owe to receive the pleasure of your visit, milady?”

“Isn’t it obvious? I’m deeply impressed and interestesd by work, milord. I’ve never been challenged this way before so I couldn’t resist the temptation of meeting you in person.” She says softly but seriously, letting him know that she’s geniune regarding her intensions.

Boruto raises his brows, “You want us to continue with this game of cat and mouse?”

She laughs and Boruto immediately realises that the sound of her bell like laughter might end up haunting him for nights after.

“Definitely Mr. Blue. Let’s continue this game till one of us decides to give up.”

“Sure Miss Red. To be honest, I myself enjoy it.“ For the first time in the span of entire night, he smirks.

Following that, they talk like two old friends catching up, talking about everything and anything but yet cautious, never revealing about themselves more than the required.

Boruto doesn’t understand why would she willingly show herself to him. Knowing that he is her enemy she should not have appeared. It was stupid.

She smiles.

“Thinking about how I shouldn’t be here?”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“I trust you.” Her voice is soft and trustful. “You’re different. You don’t use or abandon people just for the sake of yourself. I’ve been studying you for a long time, you know? And now, I know enough to believe that you’re a man of honour. So I came.”

For the first time in a while, Boruto is completely speechless.

When the receipt arrives, she whips out some bills amounting more than required and falls on the receiving edge of Boruto’s questioning glance. She raises her brows and then points out a lad.

“You remember? This kid served us. He comes from a poor sick family, he wants to go to the college but the lack of money prevents him.”

The currency in her hand and the noticeable dark circles beneath the tired orbs of the boy reminds him that life is much more beyond what meets the eye. And his respect for her and The Red Crown grows by leaps and bounds.

When they exit the shop and come across a poor homeless man drenched in rain, shivering, the woman does not hesitate and immediately walks up to him and hands him over her umbrella. The man looks at her with wide eyes and Boruto comes to understand that humanity is the biggest law of the world.

His eyes follow the path of the rain drops falling over her skin, dragging themselves across her chin, neck and finally disappearing into the cleavage of her wet and tightly clinging dress.

Boruto groaned, was this possible to look this hot and sexy in such a modest dress. Because princess RED certainly pulled this off.

He kept his eyes on her all the time, staring at her and trying his best to crave every part of her in his memory.

Then she turned and waved goodbye at him but before he knew what he was saying, words tumbled out of his mouth, “Will I be seeing you again?”

She stopped in her tracks and gave him a smug smirk with a hint of evilness.

“I think you will. At Richard Johnson’s mansion on Friday night at the party. I’ll be waiting for you.”

As Boruto watches her vanishing into the night, he remembers again that at the end of the day, she is a thief and he is a detective.

As water drips down his golden locks he whispers to himself, “Be careful Boruto. She’s hot but she’s evil.”

Although an afterthought definitely follows after witnessing the smile of those two people she’d helped.

She’s kind too.

I’ve no idea about how this turned out but I do hope that you all liked it. Please don’t hesitate to tell me your thoughts regarding this oneshot.

I know, even though I’m slow in attending to your requests I promise to complete all the fics. And more of your ideas and prompts are always welcomed!

You can read my other stories here.

My ffnet and ao3 accounts are here!

#borusara #borusarafics #boruto x sarada #boruto and sarada #boruto uzumaki #sarada uchiha #boruto #sarada #boruto naruto next generation #police and gangster/thief au #my fanfiction

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tricks-up-my-sleeve · 6 years

Text

((okay so spoilers for s8 ep 18 aka on the road to friendship under the cut w/ a bunch of spoiler tags just in case))

So uhhh this episode was everything I wanted? A lot of it’s subtle things, but, I’m ghkjlhgfd I’m not crying you are. I don’t do horse analysis or reviews or anything like that I grew tired of those types of things ages ago bc it personally gets to a point where it sucks out the fun for me but I’m just gonna make bullet points of all of my thoughts. Mainly involving Trixie and how this episode ties into my portrayal of her. Probably others too, though.

The little magic show at the beginning? Wonderful. I love these two performing together.. and together in general. Twi & Caddy even agree on how they’re such a good duo.

Speaking of which, Twi complimenting Trixie with a huge smile? HERE. FOR. IT.

Flurry Heart watching the show was adorable. Also the inclusion of Granny Smith was of course great.

“Doing a show with you is almost as much fun as counseling students at Twilight’s school.” Almost? I’m disappointed. It’s not the first time I’ll be disappointed in Glim this episode, but we’ll get there. She’s still loved.. but it gets rough.

Loved how Hoo’far called Trixie “Miss Powerful” and her reaction to it. Just cute and silly.

TRIXIE’S. LOVE. FOR. HER. WAGON. I didn’t expect this to be a big plot point in the ep or really ever brought up, but I was so thrilled because that’s always been a small part of my Trixie. She loves her wagon. It may be small and cramped (and also, it apparently has a pretty fucked up doorknob) but it has sentimental value. It means a lot to her. I loved this so much. Not once did she stop and consider trading it for something that a lot would look at and assume was superior.

Moonwalking Trixie.

Trixie bringing up how traveling gets pretty lonely a few times in this ep. Pretty much something that’s easy to guess or assume, but that’s also something my Trixie hasn’t been too shy of admitting, either.

Trixie!!! Levitating!!! Herself!!! She obviously learned that from Starlight. Although we didn’t see it much, I’m so fucking thrilled that we see that Trixie’s been improving her magic. An issue I had with To Change A Changeling (which is just a nitpick) is that they really don’t bring that up. Personally, ever since All Bottled Up, I’ve definitely been convinced that Trixie actually has strong potential for magic, given the right teacher. Glim Glam succeeds there. I could go more into detail to why I think this is but I’ll spare you.

Trixie on the couch in Starlight’s office. I don’t even have to say anything. Just perfect.

I love how Trixie painstakingly made room for the both of them in the wagon. To it’s credit, looking at it paused, it at least isn’t as small on the inside as it is the outside. It has an entire cannon in there. It seemed like she set up two beds for them? Perhaps at least one of them was makeshift? It’s hard to tell, since Star brought stuff and then she set up hammocks. It did look slightly cozier in there before the extra luggage, though. What I guess I’m getting at, is that although it’s a tight squeeze, it’s good to see that it can at least fit two ponies, although it’s not entirely ideal.

Seeing the inside of the wagon’s been a thing I’ve wanted for ages. I could sit and look at every little thing in there and just smile for a while. Super cute.

Trixie really is sweet and considerate, you know. Seriously. Asking if Starlight is sure she doesn’t want to ride instead of walking with her, and giving her more than one chance to back out on the trip if she wants to.

THE SONG. Tell me I’m biased, I don’t care. This is my favorite horse song. I’ve waited patiently for pony Trix to sing... and it’s just.. all so fucking cute. Too much to take in.

More of Trixie’s magic shown in her shielding Starlight. Love it.

“For untold seasons yet to come, our friendship will be here!” “For nine, at least.” FUCKING. WOW. That’s clever but it also hurt my heart. Especially since my favorite friendship duo has only known each other for three of those seasons thus far, and ultimately it’ll only be four. Too soon, Glimmy.

Trixie talking about how she learned the hard way about life on the road and saving bits and all that. I like that. It shows her more mature side, and that she’s a little street smart from experience. Usually she’s kinda shown as less mature than Starlight, and this episode shows the flip side, which I really like.

I love how she’s adamant on buying hay cakes (Haycakes? They’ve used the word pancake before, though. What’s the difference?) from her preferred stand. Like.. me too, Trix. Clearly there’s a higher quality in the line that’s actually got ponies in it.

This is where Trixie and Starlight really start to argue like a married couple. Here I thought Applejack and Rainbow Dash took the prize for that. This is so domestic tho.

The first argument, at least, is short lived. I really liked that. Trixie sighs, presumably not wanting to push farther to where she hurts Starlight’s feelings. Love how she says “No, of course not.” and continues to apologize for getting snippy. She’s really improved on being.. to put it lightly, less bitchy. It’s what I love about watching her, and while To Change A Changeling was hilarious, that was my other nitpick. She had an attitude almost the entire time.. but it was funny, and I wouldn’t go as far as to call it OOC, so I wasn’t mad. The reason Trixie appeals to me so much is that she’s definitely a much nicer pony, but she’s still her. She hasn’t seemingly changed overnight from the first time we saw her, but she’s definitely made an effort. She’s quite the sweetheart when she wants to be.

I love how Trixie states that it’s taken her years to collect all of her magical items. I just think it’s neat. Also, rightfully getting offended when her stuff is called junk.

Coward Trixie returns. This is definitely me looking too deep into it but personally I’d like to think that yeah, after the Ursa event, I’d be scared of animals outside, too.

Starlight snoring and Trixie outright performing in her sleep. Lmfao. I’ve said this like fifteen times already about other things but I love it.

I relate to these tired and grumpy girls, but even I would have made sure to save some food / juice for my pal. Well.. maybe the juice was definitely out of spite. Wish I could scold her, but I would’ve done the same thing.

The grouchy magic show hurt me to watch. It was still funny though. Again, definitely arguing like a married couple. Two tired, angry friends trying to work together is just never gonna turn out right.

I love their voices in the “Practice makes perfect.” “Not today it didn’t.” exchange. So sassy. So higher pitched. Those faces, too. Lol.

Starlight throwing all of Trixie’s shit out followed by Trix yelling “You can HAVE IT ALL!” Oof. Almost like I’m watching a breakup right before my very eyes. Also the way she runs off. These poor hopeless gays.

STARLIGHT GLIMMER CONFIRMED WORST GIRLFRIEND. I’mjustkidding. Naturally I saw this coming from a mile away, but still. Wow. Ouch. I do like though how it seems to be consistent that she can be defensive of her bad decisions. Not really realizing that what she’s doing is wrong.

TRIXIE FREAKING OUT, THEN BEING BROUGHT TO TEARS BECAUSE STARLIGHT TRADED HER WAGON. This hurt me more than you could imagine, but what hurt me even more is that Starlight didn’t even flinch, and was completely insensitive about it for a while. Yikes. I already went into how much I love Trixie’s attachment to her wagon, but this killed me.

Also, pretty sure that selling or trading somebody else’s stuff is illegal, Star. Trixie shouldn’t have beef with Hoo’far. She should just be planning a lawsuit against Glimmer instead.

Am I just crazy or stupid? When Trixie tells Starlight that at least the wagon wouldn’t have traded her away, I was like, yEAH, you’re valid. Tell her. It made total sense to me. Then Starlight just responds with “That’s ridiculous.” Like?? It wasn’t to me? I sound silly now bc I get the joke, it’s an inanimate object, but what I’m trying to get at is that Trixie was pretty much trying to say that if Starlight really was her best friend she wouldn’t have done that.

I love how Trixie doesn’t accept the flattery from Hoo’far like she normally would bc she’s real pissed. To be fair, though, it’s really not his fault. I mean.. okay, a little, considering he should have known that it didn’t belong to Starlight, and that the trade needed to be given the okay by Trixie. He’s not a bad guy, though.

TRIXIE LYING IN FRONT OF THE CART FOR HOURS BC NO WAY IN HELL IS SHE LETTING THIS GUY TAKE IT. AMAZING. Give it up for his patience, too.

Starlight finds out that you win some and you lose some with the bigger caravan. Also, I love how she didn’t realize how fucked up stuff was when she was with Trixie and having a good time. Her regret sinking in seems about right. You can see her start to miss her.

“Sometimes travelling together is hard.” “But you reminded us that you can also make it fun!” Definite lesson that these two needed. Obviously Starlight was breaking before hearing that, but those big sad eyes she gets after. Regret.

“What are you two doing?” “Taking a stand! By lying down!” Lmao. Never change, Trixie.

“Best friends who share a deep bond but weren’t prepared for the emotional challenges of traveling.” Oh, definitely. Really feel like their first trip should have been a short one. Possibly with more planning ahead of time.

Best. Friendship. Chant.

“Only true friends would be willing to act so ridiculous for one another.” Aww. True.

“At a certain point, I don’t even like travelling with myself.” Line I really liked. Also Starlight saying that it’s harder than she thought.

Despite their exchange about knowing not to do it again, eh, still not wanting to completely rule out the thought of them travelling together in the future. Like I said, with more precautions taken, pretty sure they could’ve been just fine. Mainly reserving a room at an inn, since the big issue really just seemed to be them getting crabby sleeping in the wagon. Would’ve preferred it if it kinda gave that lesson and had Trixie say that they’ll know how to handle it next time, with both of them saying yeah, but let’s not make that anytime soon.

Trixie and Starlight almost killed an old man.

That’s it, if anyone even read through all of that. Can’t really say much more. This may or may not be my favorite Trixie episode. I’ll have to give it some time, but I loved almost everything about it. (No Second Prances is my current favorite I suppose, due to it also validating a lot of how I viewed Trixie at the time, and still do.)

Like I said.. it’s just really refreshing to see her take on a more mature stance than Starlight for the most part, since other episodes usually show the exact opposite. Not that Starlight is incredibly mature in her own right, but she does usually take that role when it comes to her dynamic with Trixie. I love any chance we get to see Trixie, but in episodes like To Change A Changeling, sometimes I worry that they don’t give her enough credit. She’s not a complete incompetent bitch, and to be fair, I don’t think she ever really has been. I won’t go into how I personally view her flaws, though. Guess that could be another post.

Until next time. Hopefully there is another next time. Starlight’s line in the song about nine seasons still has me all fucked up and I need help. Maybe one day I could go back and do these for past Trix episodes.

#mlp spoilers #s8 spoilers #mlp s8 spoilers #spoilers #mlp s8 e18 #on the road to friendship #🎆 || out of peanut butter crackers. { ooc }#🎆 || a good magician never reveals her secrets. { musings }#🎆 || unbeknownst to the public. { headcanons }#wasn't sure what to tag this as but i felt at least one of them fit

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dammitadolfnomorecake · 5 years

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Caramel Skin Under A Vanilla Sky prt 17 full

Watching Keith leave with Kosmo, Lance let out a string of curses that would get him whacked senseless with his mother's slipper if she was there. What the hell was wrong with him? For movements and phoebs he'd kept his secret... but noooo, as soon as Keith showed him a little bit of attention, he'd folded like a cheap suit. He hadn't intended to tell Keith what happened. He'd promised they'd talk after the mission but he'd been going to come up with something... something that wasn't him spilling his guts like he was was begging for attention. And what the hell was Keith thinking, telling him he loved him?! He'd tried so hard not to hear that from Keith. He knew... or he kind of knew how Keith felt. His family having a good laugh at his cluelessness. Keith was smart, funny, quick, supple, gorgeous and courageous... And now he knew... and he still had the nerve to say that he loved him?! He didn't know what to do. He didn't know what to say. Keith's hugs... they'd been nice. They'd been soft... and so fucking warm that Lance wasn't sure he wanted him to let go. This directly contradicting the constant feeling of being dirty and tainted, adding to his fears he was tainting his friend by being so close to him. Ever since Keith had walked back into his life, Lance had fought to keep everything inside. He'd fought to keep himself from crying too loud, with Keith's quarters so close to his. He'd fought to keep his showers shorter than half a varga, feeling filthy as he stepped out too soon. He'd fought not to jump each time Keith was too loud, not to flinch away each time Keith touched him. It was like... it was like those deep purple eyes were drawing every memory to the surface, causing his secrets to spill into his mouth, only contained by his grinding teeth. Keith had broken him. He'd broken through Leandro to expose Lance, and now Lance didn't know how to put that mask back on. He'd been so angry. He'd lashed out so distastefully. He'd mocked Keith's love with laughter. He'd asked him if he wanted to know how they'd fucked him. Thrown in his face that he was addicted to drugs. Thrown in his face that they'd made him come... and Keith... fucking accepted it. He reached out and pulled him close. He'd held him as he'd sobbed like an idiot. He'd him as he'd screamed. If he could love Keith, he would. He wanted to. His chest had swelled with happiness for a micro-tick when he'd said he loved him. A micro-tick where Lance had been over the moon before the weight of everything came crashing back down so hard that all that he could do was laugh. And now they were stuck here until Zak fixed the fucking Telula, or a ship from the outpost found them first.

Having woken in Keith's arms, Lance had panicked. The overwhelming scent of the man's natural odour, combined with the scent of a fire on clear summer night had been too much for him. Between his legs had been wet, like he was ready for his weird heat thing. Fear coiling in his stomach as he realised Keith's hand rested on his exposed stomach as... if to protect something in there. Keith's warmth had seeped right through his body, scaring him because it wasn't the soul-consuming ice he'd woken up with ever since dying. Barely holding down his rising feelings, he'd slipped from Keith's hold. Keith shifting in his sleep as he mumbled Lance's name. He couldn't pull Keith down with him. He couldn't let Keith stay. Not when he was too broken to fix. Leaving Keith sleeping, Lance had headed up to Daehra's ship. Locked inside, Kosmo had pulled the blankets off the small thin bed, looking sad for himself as he slept on the floor under the dash. Moving to the pilot's seat, Lance powered the ship up. God. It's been more than tempting to take the ship and run. To leave Keith there for Daehra to collect, or maybe the Blades, but... his traitorous heart wouldn't let him. He fucking loved Keith. He hated that he loved him. He hated that he loved working beside him. Having him there to banter with. To joke with. He thought his feelings of "love" had been ruined. Keith's eyes so characteristic of the Galra. Those purple eyes that had stared down into his as he'd screamed... he'd thought he'd hate Keith's eyes, but when he looked into them, he couldn't see any traces of the Galra who had held him down. All he could see in them was his best friend... who'd hauled his arse out the outpost when he'd lost his shit. He didn't remember getting out. He didn't know if Keith had been hurt because of him. He could have gotten him killed... like... Kre'el. Kre'el would scold him. Tell him off for leaving a friend behind. He could hear her disapproving voice in his head. That same way she'd scold him for not thinking as she'd done a hundred times before. And what if they did come after them. Keith would be stranded, probably killed... Releasing the controls, he pulled up the ship's Nav system. Keith had flown through the night by the seems of it. They were out of the quadrant they'd been in, and now four away. Right. He should have known. Keith had always piloted like it was the most natural thing in life to do. Of course, he'd gotten them out... It was one more thing Lance was useless at.

Whimpering at him, Kosmo locked his knee

"Did Keith lock you in here?"

Whining Kosmo shuffled closer

"It's alright, boy. He's sleeping, and we've got a few more vargas before the sun rises properly. Do you want to come hunting with me? Find you some water?"

Kosmo's tail started to wag

"Yeah? I could use a break from him too. I need to grab some stuff, then we'll go. Sound good?"

Yipping happily, Lance flinched at the loud noise

"Sorry, boy. My head's a little sore. Can you keep it down until we get away from camp?"

The yip Kosmo gave was adorable. Soft and strangled as he made a real effort to

"Thanks, boy. Why don't we see if we can find some meat for dinner while we're at it? I've got to contact Daehra and see what's happening on her end"

Calling Daehra had been depressing. The Telula couldn't come to collect them. Daehra had been worried, repeatedly asking him if he was ok, while Lucteal issued threats towards Keith, despite Keith not being there. Even if Keith had gone off the deep end with all this crazy love stuff, it was reassuring that those two were the same as normal. Lying through his teeth, he'd told them both they were. They didn't need to see how weak he was over a little attention. He hadn't cried over it all like he had the previous night since everything he had happened. He had said the words out loud to anyone but Keith because words made it real... and now he'd really fucked up. He'd fucked up everything with Keith. So many times he'd thought of him, so many times he'd wanted to call him, but there was always a mission. Keith was always busy. Keith didn't exist to answer his calls in the dead of night when he was lonely. Neither did his old team. Not that they replied to his messages. He'd tried so fucking hard to force himself to reach out, to take the team calls then act like nothing was wrong. They didn't even notice he wasn't talking. The didn't notice when he stopped trying to be friends. If Keith stayed with him, he'd face the same alienation. He'd be pushed aside. He couldn't do that to him. Keith had come so far since they first met. He was close with both Hunk and Pidge, taking the spot Lance thought he'd occupied. Not that this was a competition or anything. He already knew he'd lost and would lose if it was. He didn't hate Keith, but he did hate that he wasn't more like him. Keith was the reliable one. Keith was the strong one. The one that Shiro named leader. While Lance was left to trail behind... it hurt far too much. It was better if Keith forgot the previous night, and Lance kept himself busy catching game. He'd get that right. He'd prove he knew how to catch dinner and didn't need a grizzled hunk like Keith to save him.

Wandering across the campsite with no shirt on, Lance blushed at the sight of a half-naked Keith. When he stripped off all he had to offer were scars, scars, and more scars. Keith, on the other hand, was ripped. His muscles long and lean, almost flowing beneath his skin as he came closer. Shovelling another shovel of coals over the bundle of silver in front of him, Lance would tell anyone who asked that it was the fire pit making his face hot

"What are you doing?"

"Making a fire pit we can cook in tonight. Breakfast is by the bed. Daehra packed eggs and this weird bread kind of stuff. It pretty much tastes like cardboard, but it's packed with vitamins and minerals"

"You are?"

"Yeah. Then I wanted to get this done"

He'd eaten half a piece of the cardboard bread before his nerves had gotten the better of him and he'd been forced to quit. Keith would scold him if he knew

"Ok... you've been throwing up, so you're probably also really dehydrated too"

"I had some water"

Watching him closely, Lance hated the way Keith's eyes roamed across his body. He knew Keith was watching him because he was concerned, yet having his every move watched had him convinced he was doing things wrong. As the shovel started shaking in his hold, he dug the tip into the dirt by his shoe instead of moving more coals

"You said your building a pit?"

"Yeah... I mean. I'm probably doing it wrong, but I'm trying to... it probably looks stupid"

Keith picked up the plate of eggs on toast

"You said "probably" twice. Have you done this before?"

"We did this at home..."

"Then I'm sure you're doing it right. Tell me how it works"

That right there. Keith had to know what that did to him. How his stupid heart did that weird flip thing. He knew it was his brain, but it's always baffled him how you can feel something in your brain and have it come out in your heart or stomach

"It... uhh..."

Shit... he was starting to get even more anxious. He knew what he was doing... so why was he struggling with his words?

"Lance?"

"I... I'm sorry. It's a fire pit. We're going to cook dinner tonight in it"

"That sounds cool"

Keith was probably humouring him. He was probably secretly laughing at the fact Lance was now having a breakdown over a fire pit...

"Mum and I always cook over the fire. I haven't seen it done this way"

"I can change it. Fill it in, I mean"

"Why? You went to all this effort"

"If it's wrong..."

Placing down the knife and fork he'd only just picked up, Keith looked up at him

"Lance, it's not wrong. I didn't mean to make you think it was. I was asking because I was curious. That's all"

Now he'd made Keith feel bad. What the hell was wrong with him?! Well? He knew what it was, but he didn't want to make Keith sad

"I'm sorry..."

"Hey. You don't need to apologise. Just explain it to me"

"You... um... put the coals in, then put the meat in like a pot or something to cook it in. Then you cover it with leaves and leave it cook"

"That sounds cool"

"Yeah... because it's a bird, it needs to be cooked well. I wasn't... expecting you back so soon"

If Keith could have stayed away a few more vargas it would have been appreciated... maybe even the night, the following night, then right up until Daehra arrived... because fucked if he knew how to handle this. How to handle soft Keith who cared for him... Who looked at him like he wasn't a lump of dirty shit

"Soon? I thought I was gone a while"

"Oh... uh..."

Was "uh" and "um" the only sounds his stupid tongue could make?! At this rate, Keith was going to think him even stupider

"My sense of time isn't great..."

"It's fine. I still get thrown talking to Shiro. He swaps back and forth from Earth time to ticks, doboshes and vargas like it's perfectly natural. Why can't we just stick one and stay with it? If the staff of the Atlas are in space, shouldn't they be using space-time? It's confusing as hell"

Lance felt his lips curling at the edges into something suspiciously not frown like

"What's the matter? Can't you keep up?"

Glaring at him, Keith sounded like his pride had been wounded

"I can keep up just fine. It'd simply be easier if I didn't have to"

"Sure, sure, samurai"

"I'd forgotten how much you like your nicknames until I looked at the board of yours"

Board? What board? Ooooh... Fuck. Why couldn't his brain get it together? At this rate, Keith was probably going to murder him for being so useless. His tone was flat as he tried to joke

"My board is a work of art"

"You run a good team"

Not sure if Keith was deflecting because his pride was wounded or if his friend was trying to pry, Lance went about scooping up another shovel of coals

"Can I ask about them?"

Lance already knew Daehra and Keith had talked about him more than once. Daehra was awful at keeping secrets, and Lucteal was struggling to accept Keith knowing that Lance had held strong feelings for the man

"Ask what?"

"I don't know. How did you all meet? I know you helped save Daehra's sister... how did that happen?"

Keith didn't mean to upset him, he knew that. The question was fairly innocent, yet his mind decided because he was hurting at the memory, he needed to lash out

"It happened when I killed the man who raped me, and the last member of his guard to rape me"

Growling the words out, Lance threw the shovel down in self-disgust. He instantly regretted the flare at the look of pain on Keith's face

"Fuck. Fuck. Sorry. Sorry... look. I'm not angry at you. I know you're trying right now, but I'm..."

Taking a deep breath through his nose, he slowly released it through his mouth

"I met Deahra and Lucteal hunting down the man who'd... you know... Their father sold their sister to him for a sliver of power once... he... got Red. Technically Daehra and Lucteal are bastard children born from the king's other bed partners, but the moment the queen started birthing their precious royal children, they were both cast aside. Their little sister Annla... they wanted to do the same thing to her... and like hell, I was going to let that happen. I killed... them and took her back to them. I went back to finish the job, but Daehra had called the police in. A police friend of mine in when I didn't come back on the same day I met them. She dragged my arse out and stopped me getting myself killed. My head... kind of broke"

"You saved a princess?"

Lance winced at the word princess. Keith was bringing back all the feelings that torn him apart when he'd tried to choose between Keith and Allura...

"Yeah. She's only about 7 or 8. She still calls to talk"

"That's sweet"

Sweet? How did he mean sweet? Keith didn't say sweet? And not mean cool. Did he mean cool? Why was he thinking about this too much? Did Keith want children? Did he like children? He seemed like the awkward uncle who'd pass the crying baby over to next closest adult... God. What would Keith say if he knew... that he could... That would mean... sex... oh, God. He was a monster. How did a talk about an alien princess end up with him wanting to vomit at the thought of sex with Keith? What kind of a monster was he?

"She's a child"

"What? No. I didn't mean it like that. I was trying to say it how you would. Fine. It's nice that she calls"

Oh... oh...

"Oh. Yeah. Well, it's to talk to Daehra mostly. She was her attendant"

"Still. You did a good job saving her. You should be proud"

Proud of being forced to suck dick before he could act? Lance definitely wasn't proud of that... he wasn't proud of waking up wet when Keith had shown him a little attention. His cheeks felt warm as he looked away. He probably could never give Keith a family... He probably couldn't really carry. He'd been a normal guy all his life, and now he was... going to cry... Nope. He didn't want to cry... not without any good reason to cry

"Can we not talk about this anymore? I get that you feel the need to talk, but I don't really want to"

Keith's face fell a little. Lance mentally congratulating himself for being the biggest quiznakking idiot in the world as it did

"Ok. But, what do want to do after I'm done eating? I would say we could rest... but I get the feeling you'd say no"

"You're right. We still need to collect more firewood. I want to boil some water too, then bottle it... after that, maybe then we could rest?"

Rest as in "sit there and empty the chicken out of their entrails and pluck them naked", not as in "sit there awkwardly while Keith pulls his weird mind magic that makes him talk far too much"

"Sure. Sounds good. We should try sparring too. I bet you could put me on my arse"

"I know I could put you on your arse, but it's not safe. Now stop avoided your breakfast. The eggs are edible, Dae packed extra supplies, so if you have a problem with them, talk to her"

"No problem. It's better than purple goo"

Green goo was better than purple goo, but no goo was better than all goo. Making the decision not to reply, Lance picked up his discarded shovel. This was going to be a loooong few quintants...

Training with Kosmo felt lacking to Keith. Neither of their hearts were in it, but Lance had fallen asleep while waiting for the water they'd collected to boil, so Keith hadn't wanted to disturb him. Practising disarming techniques with Kosmo didn't go well when all the dopey wolf wanted to do was sleep next to Lance. Each time Keith turned his back on him Kosmo would teleport back over to Lance, Keith then forced to jog over to Kosmo, drag him away, scold him for not paying attention, maybe get in two or three doboshes of training, then start the whole process again. If he looked at it like endurance training, it didn't seem as annoying...

When Kosmo teleported back to Lance for the umpteenth time, Keith gave up. It hadn't distracted him from the guilt still gnawing at his gut over the video, nor had anything else. The thought of admitting to Lance what he'd done was too much. He didn't want Lance to hate him. He didn't want Lance to shut back down again. He wanted to help... and to do that, he was going to have to be picky and tell only certain truths, until Lance was ready to hear his full admittance. But then again, that could blow up too. Lance could yell at him for thinking him too weak to handle the truth, and be sent spirally back after whatever progress they'd made. He hated this. Starting whatever this was on half-arsed truths was only going to come back and bite him in the arse.

Sitting down next to the blankets Lance was sleeping on, Keith pulled his blade from his belt. There wasn't much to do, Lance had already buried the chickens in the coals to cook, they'd also collected enough firewood to last the next few quintants, and enough water to last until the Telula reached them. Keith had already decanted the water into the bottles Lance had organised. It'd taken all of four doboshes, then boredom had kicked in all over again. Letting his gaze wander towards Lance, he caught himself at the last moment. Watching his friend sleep was creepy... but... no. He wasn't going to... quizank... apparently, he was. His gaze slipped again, Keith's face softened at the peaceful expression on Lance's face. If only Lance could always be so relaxed, he might actually be able to heal. The bags beneath his eyes hung heavy, his cheekbones much sharper than Keith remembered, his marks gone as he huffed a soft breath between his pouty lips. Reaching towards him, Keith was pulled from his momentary trance by a soft mumble

"Keith..."

Jerking his hand back, Keith cursed himself. He didn't know what he was about to do, only that he was a moron. Lance needed rest. And Keith needed to go for a run or something... maybe he could... knock himself out until the Telula arrived? He didn't want to touch Lance sexually, but he did want to cuddle the shit out of him

"K-Keith?"

Moaning out his name, Lance shifted closer to him. Half off the blankets before he stopped with the top of his head against Keith's leg. This had to be some kind of joke

"Lance?"

Nuzzling into Keith's leg, Lance let out a soft sound that sounded suspiciously like a purr. Lance had to be mocking him. People didn't go around purring for no good reason

"Lance?"

Placing his hand on Lance's shoulder, Keith shook gently. He didn't want to wake Lance, but he did want to know if he was awake or not. Releasing his shoulder, Keith moved Lance's hair back from his face. The moment his fingers brushed against the side of Lance's head just above his ear, Lance sucked in a breath. Moving his hand away, a few ticks passed before Lance slowly relaxed. Fuck. Even the simplest of gestures caused Lance pain. Hair was now added to Keith's growing list of things to avoid... though it was the second physical addition following "don't unintentionally wake Lance up by touching him because you can't control your feelings". After he'd talked with his mother, he'd had a good hard think about the kind of words he should avoid when talking with Lance. All he'd come up with were the obvious ones related to "force"... and he didn't trust himself not to mess it all up by saying something stupid without thinking. Placing his blade as far away from them as he could reach, Keith laid himself out next to Lance, letting Lance curl into his side, on his own accord, with a soft huff. However, it was only a few doboshes later that Lance shot up next to him, his mouth wide in a silent scream as Keith rushed to sit back up. Sucking down a few desperate breaths, Keith waited until Lance rubbed at his eyes before breaking the silence

"Lance?"

"I'm ok..."

"You sure?"

"Mhmm... nightmare... sorry... sorry... I didn't mean to fall asleep"

"It's alright"

"No... ugh... why do nightmares have to suck?"

Laying back down, Keith stared up the lazy clouds passing over the top of them. Taking a few ticks longer, Lance laid down next to him. So close that they were practically shoulder to shoulder. He could feel his best friend's little finger brushing against his own, without giving it much thought, Keith hook it with his, meaning in some weird way they were holding hands

"How long was I out?"

"Not too long. I was playing with Kosmo for a bit, then when I sat you curled into me"

"Shit. I'm sorry"

"It's fine. It only happened a few doboshes ago. Do you think that caused the nightmare?"

"Maybe. It's not your fault, though. I didn't mean to fall asleep"

"You obviously needed it"

"I don't know about that"

"You wouldn't have fallen asleep if you didn't"

"It's the sun. It feels nice"

Looking over to Lance, he found Lance was already looking at him. Drawing his brow, the Cuban was confused

"What?"

"I didn't mean to wake you up"

"It's fine. I don't sleep much as it is. I probably would have woken sooner rather than later"

"Is it the nightmares?"

"Yeah... they're... they're not better than they were, because they still suck, but they're different"

"I'm sorry to hear that"

Looking away from him and back up the heavens, Lance sighed

"You don't have to keep saying sorry"

"Even if I am"

"It makes me feel stupid when you keep apologising"

"I feel stupid for messing things up"

Lance bit his lip, before looking back to him again

"I don't really hate you. It was such a shitty thing to say. I don't hate Shiro either. It's... you throw me off balance"

"I throw you off balance?"

"Yeah. When I look at you... it's like... everything comes rushing back all at once. I can remember almost everything that happened and it's all on the tip of my tongue"

Keith didn't know what to say to that... He didn't want Lance to remember anything he didn't want to

"I'm sorry"

"Don't apologise. It's not your fault. It just... it throws me off how easily you get under my skin. I was so fucking mad at you for tracking me down. I wanted to throw you down the club stairs and scream at you "to never come back""

"Wow, dude. That's a bit harsh"

"It wasn't your fault. It's... I feel like you can see right through me and I hate it"

"I can't you know... see through you that is. There's skin, and muscle, and bone..."

Lance groaned at him

"You're a dick"

"That doesn't mean I'm not right"

"Sometimes I wonder. Like really wonder"

"Wonder what?"

"If I came back. Or if I'm still on the astral plane..."

Keith's voice caught in his throat. Squeezing Lance's little finger, he slowly picked his words

"You died when I was away from the team, didn't you?"

Sighing at him, Lance squeezed back

"You knew?"

"Not until recently. Why didn't you tell anyone?"

"Everyone was busy. Besides, it was hardly worse than when you tried to throw your own life away. Don't think Matt didn't tell Shiro about it"

"I know he did... But at the time, I didn't see any other way"

There was a pause long enough for Keith's heart to begin beating faster

"I... I didn't either. It was going to hit Allura... and the team... they needed her more than they needed someone like me. I wish she'd never brought me back"

"It's probably not much, but I'm glad she did. You're the heart of the team"

"I'm the guy you didn't want to spend eternity with. The stupid one. If I could have stayed there, I would have... nothing's been right since I came back..."

Rolling onto his side, facing Lance, Keith smiled softly as Lance rolled to face him too

"You're going to be ok. We're going to be ok"

"You don't know what it's like"

"No. I don't. But I do know that if I'd I lost you, I never would have been able to move on, or even move forward. You keep saying you came back wrong, but I can't understand what you mean"

"Allura... I was dead. I felt myself die. I felt my heart stop as I was electrocuted and then it was all nothingness like the astral plane. It was black... as far as you can see. It felt like... like being smothered by the darkness for an eternity. She used part of her quintessence to bring me back. Part of her being. She probably had to in order to stabilise my body, like she had to use her gem from her tiara to stabilise Shiro... Keith, she wasn't attracted to me. She didn't love me. What she was drawn to was the part of her in me..."

Keith expected Lance's to be crying, instead, he looked resigned. Like this has played a million times in his head, so could no longer feel the pain he needed over such a statement

"That's..."

"What? Not true? She was still in love with Lotor to the very end. When we were together... she only thought of the Altean's. Then she... she went after the entity... I loved her, but not in the same way she loved me"

"She was an idiot"

Lance's eyes narrowed into a glare

"No. Listen to me. Lance, you're an idiot but she is too. You... you always push yourself so hard. You're always so hard on yourself that it's frankly frustrating. I want to grab you by the shoulders and shake you until you see what the rest of us see. The fact Allura couldn't see it, it pisses me off. You've always had my back. Even when we were punk nose brats sniping at each other, I could always count on you. At first, I found your flirting irritating as hell. Then I realised, all you wanted was for someone to like you for you. I'm sorry it took me so long"

"Allura had a lot going on"

"We all did. It doesn't make it right"

"Keith... she's still important to me. Even if you don't like her"

"It's not that I don't like her. I appreciate her sacrifice. I just wish you hadn't been hurt. You didn't even tell us you died. That's not ok"

"There was no one to tell... Pidge and Hunk were busy. You were gone. Shiro hated me. Coran was busy. Allura and Lotor were... busy... it doesn't matter now"

"It matters to me"

"It's been years"

"And if it'd been me who died, you would have never let me hear the end of it. You would have cried and felt just as guilty as I do"

Sniffling, Lance failed as he tried to give him a stern look

"Shut up. You can't turn this back on me"

"I can too. I hate what you've been through. You deserved so much better than all of this"

"You deserve better than being stuck here with me. I couldn't even get you off the outpost..."

"It was pretty hairy for a moment. Especially when they started firing at us"

Lance took a shaky breath as tears welled in his eyes. Cautiously, Keith wriggled closer to wrap his arm around Lance, leaving them forehead to forehead as Lance whispered

"I fucked up the whole mission"

"No"

"When I saw all that blood... I couldn't... you know. We were Paladins. We got hurt... but there was so much blood..."

"Yeah. But if you hadn't reacted to the guards, that could have been us. For all we know, they could have piped sedatives through the vents"

Lance gave a weird snort

"You Blades and your vents... when they had me, I kept thinking how one day someone's going to put fans in them to prevent people climbing around"

"They've already got fans in them. That's what keeps the air moving"

"Oh... right... I didn't think of that... I know we have to go back... but fuck... I don't want you to end up cut into pieces"

"You want to go back?"

"I don't want to... but... we can't leave it like that"

God. Lance was killing him right here. It was worth than his friend's bad breath

"I... before you get mad at me, I was kind of freaking out too. I messaged mum about what happened"

Lance's eyes widened

"You what?!"

"I sent her some of the video. We've got undercover operatives out there, who have been operating without knowing about this threat. This information could save the lives of Blade and rebel members"

"Keith! I didn't... I... I trusted you!"

"I know. That's why I'm telling you. She didn't say she was going to act. But... if it means no one having to die"

"What did you send her?! What exactly did you send her?!"

"Video of the other room... and some of the blood... and them trying to kill us"

"Keith!"

"I know. I know. I wish the two of us could handle this, but I don't think we can. Plus, they know who I am. If they go to Daibazaal, mum needs to be prepared"

"D-Daibazaal... I didn't think of that..."

Keith could see Lance spiralling

"No. Daibazaal has some of the best defences out there"

"They had Galra working for them. What if they return home? What if they go after Krolia? Or your team... What if..."

"Lance. This isn't going to do any good. I'm worried too, but my team can handle. Mum can handle it. Everyone can handle it. They haven't come after us, and we're not that far from the outpost. Even if they're destroying the evidence, we both know what happened. And now that the Blades know, they can also compile a case to get things changed"

"They used to... you know... cut people up there. But they'd phased it out when the empire fell. I thought... I mean... I killed people but I didn't know I was sending them to be butchered... I worked with the police... I fucking blew things up for them... they said... god..."

"Shhh. You're going to push yourself into a panic attack, or make yourself sick again"

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't be laying this all on you..."

"It's fine. Do you want to keep laying here? Or do you want to get up and do something?"

Lance nodded slowly. His lips were so close that Keith wanted to a taste. He knew how soft and sweet Lance's kisses could be

"I want to go take a swim"

Oh shit... Lance had no idea what he was doing to him... A half-naked Lance was the last thing he needed to be thinking about

"Do you want... I mean..."

"I need some time alone. I'm... I feel like I should apologise. I don't mean to keep pushing you away..."

"No. You don't need to. But take Kosmo with you. I tried to train with him, and all he wanted to do was nap near you"

"You know I don't hate you, don't you? I never should have said I did. I can't do that. I can't give you that. Not now"

"Lance, I understand. I've been pushing too hard to. I want to know everything. No matter how had it is. I want to help you through it"

Sincerity shone on Lance's face.

God. His lips were right there. Keith's will eroding faster with each tick

"I know. I don't know why but every time you look at me, I feel like an idiot. I want to tell you everything... Well, maybe not everything. I'm not ready for people to know. I don't want anyone else to ever know... and some things... I can't. I got used to keeping this inside. Ugh. I guess what I'm trying to say is, I'm probably not going to be the greatest friend, but I'll try"

"I'm not going anywhere. You should go for that swim before the sun goes down"

"Yeah..."

Lance's breath was warm against his lips. His brain finally shorting out as his lips pressed against Lance's. Letting out a whimper, Lance pushed him off as he scrambled back. Keith's heart sank. He was such a goddamn idiot!

"Lance... I'm sorry. I didn't think"

Shaking his head, Lance climbed to his feet

"Lance?"

"I can't"

Taking off, Lance ran from him. Kosmo leaping to his feet to run after his crush. Keith flopped onto his back, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes. He was such a goddamn idiot! Lance clearly didn't like having his face, or head touched that much. And he'd forced a kiss to his lips... Why?! A few more ticks and Lance would have left him. A few more ticks and his warmth would have been gone from his hold. Lance was probably going to shut him right out now... Fuck... He'd held his tongue over the sweet smell of sea salt and junipers that had come from Lance. The changes in his scent that Keith knew wasn't possible, so could only choke it up to his imagination, and that he was going slightly crazy due to his love of Lance.

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