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miss-tc-nova · 3 years

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A Way Into the Future - Luxu

Alright, we’ve got the green light kiddos! So, without further ado, here’s my piece for the Shattered Fates - Foretller Zine. Enjoy!

Music Inspiration: I’ll Sleep When I’m Dead - Set It Off

~~~~~

Footsteps echo off the stone walls of the underpass beneath the Outer Gardens. One set—much faster than the other—struggles, moving unsteadily and with a lot of panic. It’s no wonder considering the owner of said steps took quite a beating. He put up a decent fight, but poor Braig had no hope of prevailing against his tormentor: a legend, a man of time, a Master—Luxu.

Ruthless yellow lights barely have the power to illuminate the tunnels, but the young man doesn’t need to see to know the man hunting him is not far behind.

As the black coat stalks persistently closer, his prey stumbles down the path, unaware that he’s being driven straight into a trap—doing everything that the stalker had intended to a T. Luxu has spent many years refining a variety of skills, both combative and strategic; coercing his victims into his snare is child’s play. Decades of thought have gone into formulating the criteria for his perfect vessel and, unfortunately for the young man, he matches every point perfectly.

Unbeknownst to the Radiant Garden native, Luxu had scouted his playground days prior to this encounter and had collapsed the only escape that gave his victim any prospect. His hope is effectively crushed at the sight of the clogged tunnel.

Eyes wide with pure terror, he turns back to Luxu. The sharpshooter has a quick draw, even in fear, but it proves just as useless as it had before. Barely any thought is spent on the barrier that prevents the bullets from reaching their mark.

“I already told you resisting me was useless,” Luxu drawls. “All this fear and pain could’ve been avoided if you had just done as I asked. But I guess it’s only fair to assume any self-respecting warrior worth his salt would struggle.”

Backed against the debris, the kid quivers. To his merit, he maintains his aim, despite how utterly doomed he is.

“What do you want with me?!”

Luxu pauses his approach. “Hmm, let’s see—that brand new job you just took at the castle is a good start.”

“A job? You want my job? I-I can talk to my boss! Just let me talk to Ansem!”

“I hate to tell you, kid, but I need more than your job. I need your entire existence. Or more specifically, I need your body.” The boy’s petrified face goes pale. “My scapegoat has finally arrived; things are about to get very interesting and your life perfectly fits all my needs. Now, I’d appreciate it if you’d stop struggling; I’d like to avoid injuring that body any more than necessary.”

As he closes the gap and the boy cowers beneath him, Luxu recalls how he came to be here, stealing the bodies of young men.

~~~~~

“Master, what is this?” the young man asks, looking over the paper and not entirely sure he’s read it correctly.

As he has many times before, Luxu stands in the Master’s study. The room is filled with books, vials, and plenty of objects of which Luxu couldn’t even guess the purpose of. The only thing he can be sure of is that none of it is as it seems, and that broad statement brings with it its own sense of security. It has always been filled with wonders and the Master seems to introduce him to a new one each time he visits. This time is no exception.

The eccentric man folds his arms. “What do you think it is?”

His voice catches in his mouth. He’s read it over once, twice, but surely, he must be mistaken. “This sounds like a method for taking over someone’s body.”

“Bingo! You are correct, sir!” the Master praises, waving his hands animatedly.

“WHAT?!” In his exclamation, young Luxu throws the paper in the air.

His master snatches the fluttering paper. “Don’t lose it! I only have one copy of that!”

“Okay, one, why don’t you make another copy? And two, why do you know how to possess someone’s body?!”

“Oh, I don’t know how; this is all just theory. I wrote it this morning.”

His master never fails to perplex him. “And you think I need it why?”

“Because you’re only human,” the Master of Masters replies. “That body of yours will become old and decrepit and weaken over time but your job will be far from done. So, you need some way to continue living and persist into the future.”

The Master may be a strange man, but it’s no secret that he enjoys pulling emotions from his pupils—his favorite being shock. Luxu has made a point to accept his master’s eccentricity and all it entails, having come to see the unpredictability as predictable. It’s been a long time since the Master has been able to truly flabbergast the young man.

Luxu’s arms wave in disbelief. “And you think body snatching is the way to do that?!”

Matching the animated gestures, the Master retorts, “Well do you have any other bright ideas?!”

Luxu glances away. “Couldn’t you figure out immortality or something else?”

The Master holds his arms up in an X. “Absolutely not. Immortality is far more complicated and we just don’t have time for that. So, this is your only hope of completing your task.” Again, the paper is pushed into Luxu’s hands. As the student stares at the page, the Master’s tone turns serious. “Remember, while the others have very important roles, everything hinges on the success of yours. If you don’t see this through, the Book of Prophecies won’t be written and things will fall in ruins.” His tone drops even more, almost as if he’s threatening his pupil. “And all those people you care about will die for nothing.”

Those words strike the young man. Aced, Ira, Invi, Gula, and Ava—they’re family. Even if they sometimes bicker and disagree, Luxu grew up with them. He already disliked the idea of them fighting, possibly to their destruction, but they’re all fighting for the light’s survival. If he doesn’t do his job, they’ll lose their guidance and their struggles will be meaningless—his family will die in vain.

But taking someone else’s body and losing his own: it’s unthinkably horrifying. He’d never considered that his body could be disposable; that something so undeniably “Luxu” could just be swapped out as easily as his coat. These thoughts become too much to deal with in this moment, so he decides not to. Still, he can’t simply throw away a key aspect of his master’s orders, so the paper is carefully folded and tucked into his jacket to address later.

“Thank you for your guidance, Master,” Luxu murmurs.

Back to his light-hearted self, the Master of Masters slings an arm around Luxu’s shoulders. “That’s more like it. Now, let me show you why you’re going to need that paper.”

~~~~~

Spasms wrack every gasp he takes. They come not from his chase of the now-unconscious man at his feet, but from the seriousness of what he must do next.

Staring down at his very first victim, he feels a heavy guilt in his chest. Based on what’s written, he can only assume the original heart will be ejected and either become a Heartless or ascend to Kingdom Hearts. This man had no say in the matter; he was hunted down like a dog and endured only terror and pain in his final moments. He’s still young and could’ve had a full life ahead of him filled with happiness and adventure. He had potential but Luxu deemed him a lamb for slaughter.

Luxu shakes his head; he can’t have these sorts of distractions dragging him down.

The old parchment slips from his pocket, a perfect cross forever creased into its aged surface. Instructions written in black still read perfectly clear despite time’s efforts. He’s read and reread the page thousands of times, each time going through the shock of what exactly is being asked of him: ice shoots through his veins while his skin scorches, a suffocating grasp squeezes at his throat, and a violent churn nearly upheaves his stomach. The possibility of failure reels in his mind, threatening to evolve into a full-blown panic attack. He spent his whole life as himself—as Luxu—but now, for the sake of light itself, he must discard that. Just thinking about looking in a mirror and not recognizing the face looking back reminds him of his nightmares. Supposedly, his heart will retain his memories, but he still worries over exactly how much of himself he’ll get to keep; after all, sacrifices for such sins must be made.

The tremors in his chest have spread, shaking the page in his gasp. A deep breath does nothing to soothe his fears but allows him to regain focus. He reminds himself that this is for the existence of everything—for the people he loves. It doesn’t matter if he’s scared, it doesn’t matter if he loses himself, it doesn’t matter if the people who matter don’t recognize him, he has no choice.

Sighing, he lets the paper float to the ground, letting his eyes linger on the victim at his feet. He can’t let himself dwell on anything lest his mind trail back to his fear. He gets started.

Clearing his head, he rests both hands against his chest. The suggested mental imagery serves him well while his heart begins to compress. He remembers the most important parts of himself—the things about himself he values—and imagines placing them in a box. His personality, skills, and knowledge are added inside. Memories follow suit; all the good, the bad, and the in-between are stowed away as important, for they have shaped the person he’s become. The young man takes great care in packing all of himself away.

As these things fade from his conscious mind—all bound to his heart for transfer—the darkness stalking at the edges of his mind begins encroaching on his thoughts like wolves prepared to devour him. Luxu’s natural instincts react in fear, causing the man to tremble and his physical heart to pound in his ears. Just like the darkness, a chill creeps along his quaking limbs, his control over them waning. With every bit of himself that he stows away for his next life, the little rationality that must stay behind cowers in terror. He would simply do away with all his senses, but he knows that some of his consciousness must stay to facilitate the move. He must suffer this fear and lose part of his mind to succeed.

The body to be left behind is nearly shut down. His throat closes, no longer able to draw air into his spasming lungs. He has no idea if he’s doing anything right or if he’s even ready, but the innate fear of death has him in a panic. He has to go now.

Eyes snap open, nothing but bright light consuming his vision. This is it; this is where he discards everything he is. This is the point of no return. With the dread as potent as ever, his consciousness fades as he sends the light on its way.

Instantly, Luxu becomes aware of the intense, stinging pain. Every nerve is like a needle, searing at his heart. He would absolutely be screaming if he could but, as it currently stands, he has no access to any vocal cords, let alone a mouth.

A firm pressure resists his heart, struggling against him. The way it reverberates is reminiscent of his own screams. This is his victim, desperately fighting to keep control. Their panic gives them strength, allowing them to push against Luxu to the point he feels his grip slipping. A desperate alarm shoots through him, fueling his struggle.

As it turns out, Luxu’s fear is stronger than that of the man he’s possessing.

Resistance suddenly stops. Slowly, the presence of the other heart begins to fade, allowing Luxu’s heart to fill the hole left behind. The pain begins to ebb at an unbearably slow rate, but there is solace in the fact that it is fading.

His consciousness begins unfurling within his brain as he lies on the ground gasping. Comprehension begins weaving through the unpacking, bringing attention to what exactly just happened. He hadn’t been prepared for resistance; he didn’t know he could still lose after disarming his target. There was no warning for that. If Luxu’s heart had lost the struggle, he would’ve been expunged, become a heartless, and failed his task; he would have failed his loved ones. And this is only his first time.

It takes an eternity for the agony to fade enough and allow him to assess the body. It’s all still sensitive, like a limb falling asleep and waking back up, only far more intense. Nevertheless, he manages to open his eyes. Even they feel the stinging, giving him blurry vision. Nerves feel like fire as he struggles to raise a hand. The trembling extremities are different: the skin tone is a shade off, fingers are slightly longer, and there’s no sign of a mole he used to have on his wrist. It’s strange to feel and control the hand of a stranger.

It takes some time for all the nerves to properly connect. Small repetitions get the muscles moving as they should, and after a few hours, he is able to stand. Weak legs hold him up while he tries to regain his bearings. Palms press against his eyes, struggling to get rid of that remnant sting.

When his hands drop, he finds nothing. The expelled heart is gone and so is the body he left behind. There is no going back.

The old paper flutters, threatening to fly away. However, this is only the first of many stolen bodies and he will need those instructions to repeat the move in the future.

Reaching down, he scoops up the paper. The action nearly topples him. Despite his careful decision for this particular individual, he couldn’t find someone exactly like himself. There are still differences that will take some getting used to, driving home one very important, horrendous fact.

He is no longer Luxu.

He is no longer himself.

The reality finally kicks him in the gut, bringing him back to the ground where a foreign scream tears from his mouth.

~~~~~

“You’re crazy! Stay away from me!”

The cry drags the man back from age-old memories. Braig is the latest of his numerous casualties.

Luxu could’ve stopped long ago, given up his master’s orders and spared so many ignorant hearts—innocent people didn’t have to die for this. However, sacrifices must be made for sins, and Luxu’s been paying his due. With every bit of himself left behind, the rest naturally tries to fill in that hole, but it’s not the same. The new pieces become influenced by the suffering and bitterness Luxu endures with each move, filling him with more and more darkness. That’s not to say darkness is a bad thing, but it fuels the apathy born from repeated trauma.

Luxu’s views on humanity have deteriorated; each passerby could die at his feet and he would simply step over them. Those chosen as new vessels hold some interest, but he no longer has any qualms putting them down. Only the people he started this journey for mean anything to him now; they are the only light left in his unrecognizable life. They would likely look down on him with disappointment, scold and abhor him, but he would burn every world in existence for their fates. But the end is near. The scapegoat has finally shown himself and soon Luxu will be free of this burden—his family will return to him. No matter what wrath he may incur from them, the relief of the end is just too tempting to spare this last victim.

Luxu shrugs. “You might be right about that; repeatedly losing part of your mind does that to a guy. Unfortunately for you, there’s nothing more dangerous than an insane person with a goal. You were simply the poor soul that caught my eye this time.”

“N-No! Please!”

Having done this so many times, Luxu doesn’t even need the instructions, so he burnt them long ago. His mind already begins to pack away the things he wishes to carry forward and the chill starts in his fingers.

“Sorry, but everything I’ve dedicated my life to hangs in the balance. Neither of us have a choice here. But don’t worry—this isn’t my first time and I’ll ensure it’s as painless as possible.”

As he strides closer, the man scrambles closer to the wall. Fear shines brightly in his eyes, but it doesn’t faze a man who’s seen it so many times before—who’s endured it so many times before.

“Take a deep breath, Braig. It’ll all be over soon.”

#kh luxu #zine feat nova #luxu

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blackvelvetwriteson · 3 years

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𝐌𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐘𝐔𝐊𝐈

( ~ Kaminari Denki x Gender Neutral Black Reader Insert ~ )

GENRE: Fluffy Fluff!

FANDOM: Boku No Hero Academia (My Hero Academia)

TRIGGER WARNINGS: NONE! Today is a fluffy day!

SUMMARY: Kaminari helps out Reader-Chan with their hair for a wash day after they both get off of work! This is a Black!reader insert and trust and believe I’m going to be doing MORE of these types of things as well. I have Kirishima x Black Male reader insert to come soon! I hope you enjoy!

WORD COUNT: 3940

(Headers are mine, but the art inside of them are not! Please don’t steal or repost without credit!)

You and Denki had been together for awhile and everything was everything you thought it’d be and more. He was always so energetic and happy to see you each and every single time you ‘left’ and then came back to him. I swear it was like he was even more in love with you every single time you blinked. And that beautiful smile of his as he looked you over taking in your beautiful auburn skin, almond-y eyes, your wide nose, and your hair. He was oh so infatuated with your hair every single time he saw a style you put your hair into; he had never even seen braids until he got with you. You both had gotten an apartment together- even after going through high school and the UA experience with you, he was still in love with you possibly even more than he was before.

You both had separate closets; your closer mostly full of head scarfs, durags, and the special hair products that you used at like max 1 time a month. Oftentimes you found your boyfriend sifting through everything and trying to name what things were and at this point he was getting pretty good. All of it sounded weird coming from his mouth, but it was the thought that counted. He also looked through all of the products and he had accidentally tried some just to see if his hair would benefit from it.

Needless to say it didn’t.

He also loved looking at your accessories that you’d put in your hair- mostly when they were in braids- all of your brushes and heat protectants and your piks. He LOVED your piks. He would ask you about them all the time and he’d even ask to use them from time to time even though he and you both knew they weren’t for him. You’d gotten him a custom one though- it was yellow with metal rounded tip spokes and the body had his signature lightning bolt with his hero name “Chargebolt” underneath it with pretty letters. You were never too fond of sharing things like that with anyone- even him- and he respected that.

He’d been with you long enough to distinguish between your music as well and at the end of the week he’d always come back home to hear a mix between James Brown, SZA, Jhene Aiko, Summer Walker, and others. When you let him sit in on your study sessions and listen to your music he’d always been so surprised with 1) how diverse your music taste was and 2) that there was so many different kinds of music and he’d never heard YOURS prior to getting with you. He absolutely loved it, Drake being one of his favorites though he’d mindlessly mumble some Kendrick lyrics when he heard a familiar beat. Nevertheless, today was no different. He’d gotten home from his patrol to hear SZA playing, the scent of the mix of products in the air bringing a small inkling of pink to his cheeks. He walked in a little more and slicked back his dandelion yellow hair and he walked to the bathroom where he, once again, saw the familiar sight of you hunched over the sink mumbling lyrics while your skilled fingers worked shampoo out of your hair. “This may be the night that my dreams might let me know…” you mumbled under your breath before you jumped feeling Denki’s strong arms wrapping around your waist, his tender lips pressed into the nape of your neck. “BABY!” You feel a surge of happiness run through you before your fingers get caught on a knot and you grumble lowly. “D-Don’t scare me like that,” you whine out softly before you settle on ripping the knot out of your from irritation before you feel his warm hand against yours. “I-I’m sorry,” he said with a soft laugh. “Hey don’t tug at it like that… You’ll hurt your hair,” he said softly before swiftly taking his gloves off and setting them next to the sink, humming softly as he helped you work the knot out of your hair SAFELY. “I’m… Surprised you remember,” you said quietly as he dried his hands off and rested them on your waist, swaying to the music behind you. “Of course I remember! I couldn’t forget something like that…. Uhm.. So can I help with… Conditioning? Please? Pretty please?! I just… I want to learn more so that I can help you! A-And I know you’re gonna braid it! C-Can I watch you do that o-or um… Something? I won’t ask to help because we both know I can’t do that!” He started to laugh softly as he rubbed the back of his neck, scared again that he had talked too much. “S-Sorry..” He mumbled quietly. At this point, you were done with washing your hair so you used your hips to push him back and you threw your head back, the water in your hair flicking all over Denki, who just laughed like usual, before he walked up behind you and took you by the waist again with his head rested on your shoulder not even caring that your hair was dripping on his or his face. He carried that handsome smile as he used one of his slender fingers to trail over your jawline gently with a small laugh. “What’s so funny,” you rose your eyebrow and quirked your lips some as your brown eyes carried a soft golden glow to them. He thought that was the coolest thing ever how your eyes seemed so amazingly dark but could still carry a glow to them, especially one that brought out your features even more. “N-Nothing! You’re just… So damn beautiful,” he said softly as he practically melted looking at your reflection in the mirror. “And all mine… I get to have you and nobody else,” he said softly as he bit his lip and nuzzled into your neck before he caught a whiff of food in the air. His patrol had zapped him (ha! get it?) and he was in the mood for you and food and cuddles. His mouth started to water as he let his hands wash over your hips, duck under your shirt, gently tapping his fingertips against your soft satiny brown skin. “What’s for dinner, love,” he asked quietly as he sniffed your hair and closed his eyes, his heart pounding hard against his rib cage as his flush travelled through his body. He loved how homey anywhere felt with you. Instead of living off of takeout, he was graced with your cooking skills. Instead of sitting around doing nothing, he took a keen interest whenever you did your hair and sometimes when he was gaming you’d lay on top of him and practice different styles in his hair so you could get ideas for your own and honestly he was just fine with that. He had someone like you; and it wasn’t that you were ‘exotic’ looking; as a matter of fact he’d get so pissed off when someone said that about you or your family because it seemed… Out of place to him. Of course, when he laid eyes on you for the first time, he couldn’t think of anything else except how different you looked from anybody he’d ever seen before. How your wider nose brought out your thin dark eyes, how curly your hair was and how it just seemed to define gravity- but in a mere hour and a half would be sleek and braided against your head and stay that way until you took it out. How your white teeth glistened and brightened your nebulous brown eyes with that golden glow that acted as a highlight and how perfectly it fit you. He even noticed how your hips curved a little more, how your shoulders were a little broader, how you always managed to shine and he loved that. Everybody did- but he did more. He always protected you, and you’d let him. After all it was hard moving from one place where everyone seemed to hate you and people that looked just like you to a different place where there was NOBODY that looked like you… No place to get things to care for yourself properly unless you paid a million and half dollars for all of the products that you deemed as necessary. He didn’t mind paying, he didn’t mind protecting you and letting you not be the strong one, he didn’t mind putting people in his place; sometimes he got overzealous with it and you had to explain why certain things were okay and why certain things were. He listened, always, and he seemed to have a grasp on it, however, he forgot sometimes just wanting to protect you and make his home your home as much as he could. He always gifted you with small presents and everything as well, always eager to buy you flowers and call you beautiful and make sure you knew that you weren’t alone even in this new place you called home and the attempt is exactly what you loved about him. All of his questions and asking for certain clarifications. He didn’t make you feel weak when you just couldn’t be strong anymore. He was curious, but he didn’t try to force your boundaries with touching your hair without permission or using your products and wasting them, or complaining about how much you had, or complaining and mocking how you were different from him and people like him, and on the flip side, he didn’t try to take your lingo that you carried over from where you were in America. He didn’t try to copy you because he knew that some things he just shouldn’t say and he just accepted the explanation with a smile and a nod and he made sure he never slipped up again, all while making sure other people didn’t make mistakes either.

“Well… I went to the store today since I had morning shift,” you said quietly as you moved your hair to one side and gently let your fingers glide through his hair. “So I picked up a few things… It’s pretty cold outside so I made chili and cornbread,” you said softly as you look in the mirror at his widened eyes staring at your reflection. “I hope that’s not a… Bad thing?” “No no no no, of course not! It’s a great way to start the weekend… Besides I LOVE your cornbread- it’s like super spongey and stuff and it’s just really good! Thank you,” he said as he nuzzled into your damp neck and you admired him, turning to gently place a kiss on the top of his head. “You’re welcome, my little prince,” you said softly as you grabbed a towel. “You said you wanted to help me with conditioning right? Well come on before my hair gets dry,” you said softly and he followed happily, listening to the chili simmer in the pan, the small ticks of the timer taunting him as he waited for the cornbread to finish. Your guys’s fireplace crackled and added another touch of homeyness to your guys’s den. You sat on the couch and he sat behind you with his legs on either side of you. You giggled softly and handed him the leave in conditioner and tilted your head back. “Okay so, that’s leave in conditioner. It’s different from *shower* conditioner; I don’t have to wash it out. Try and get as close to my scalp as you can,” you say softly as you hear the bottle open. “And don’t use too much at one time! A little goes a long way,” you say softly as a smile broods over your face. He nods with a soft and determined hum and he parted your hair down the middle with his pinkies. You turned on Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and giggled softly as he gently pressed his fingertips along the part, slowly but surely spreading the conditioner through your hair. “Jeez, it smells so good,” he said in a soft murmur, grunting softly as he felt your hands on his legs for support. “Your hands are so… Gentle,” you say as more of a soft hum, already almost asleep, your back leaning against his chest. “Well duh,” he hummed back to you quietly as he worked your curly hair through his fingers, taking out any tangle he could gently and quickly, watching how the product weighed your hair down a little bit. ��You’re so cute,” you said softly as you tried not to sleep and he noticed so he gently pushed your back and nibbled at your neck. “I finished with the leave in… What’s next?” He whispered softly into your ear causing a flush of your own to blossom and spread over your body as he nibbled your ear. “D-Don’t do things like that,” you whined softly as you gently sifted through your bottles and handed him one of them. “This is to moisturize my hair even more. Focus more on my scalp and the ends of my hair than yknow… The rest of my hair,” you say softly as you close your eyes. Immediately your eyes close and you feel your skin burn as his strong hands go immediately to massaging your scalp. A shudder ripples down your spine and you lean your head back into Kaminari’s hands as you let out soft whines. He blushes a little and clicks his tongue. “Mm? You like that?” He teased you, palming your head as his fingers knead the product into your scalp. “Y-Yeah,” you whine softly as you try harder not to pass out. “J-Just keep going like that,” you whisper under your breath. He let out his soft giggles that sounded just a little squeaky, moving your hair a little so he could kiss the nape of your neck, his plush lips pressed against your soft skin making your eyes flutter a little. “K-Kami,” you whisper softly as you close your eyes and let your body relax completely. He pulled you back into him and gently kissed the side of your neck. “I’m sorry, yuri,” he said softly with a soft smile. “You know I get carried away sometimes,” he said as he gently massaged your shoulders and then you picked up one of your piks and handed it to him after showing him how to hold it. “Here… Hold it from the underside like this… You’ll get a better grip that way,” you say softly as you tilt your head to one side as you felt him gently nibbling and tugging at your skin with his teeth. You let out quiet whimpers and bit your lip before pushing him back a little. “J-Just take the damn pik and do my hair before it dries dummy,” you said as you covered your mouth. He mumbled softly as he started to run his fingers through your hair and pik it out, his eyes glistening as he stretched your curls and let them fluff up and coil again. “You’re so sensitive and it’s so cute,” he said softly as he gasped softly. “Jeez your hair babe… It’s amazing! It’s like… Soft but it still has its like… Texture? Would that be the right word? It’s really cool… It’s different from mine… I honestly love it,” he said softly as he continued to easily pik through your hair. “I don’t know how to braid, but I DO remember how to twist! C-Can I do that? I wa-wanna tie your d-durag today,” he said softly, his voice almost a pleading whine that you found adorable. You reached back and gently tangled your fingers with his hair causing him to whine softly. “Please,” he asked again, almost begging. If he was pleading like this, who were you to say no? “Baby, since it’s the weekend, I will let you… BUT only if you let me teach you again,” you say quietly. You lean back and look up at him and his eyes, as usual, were glittery and beautiful as he held his smile. “Wait REALLY?? Hell yeah!” He pumped his fist and you sat up as you, again, showed him a rat-tailed comb and you flipped it between your fingers. “Watch how I part this, and try to mimic it as best you can, okay?” You whisper quietly as you start to part it from the front of your head. He just watched attentively with pure astonishment as your coils parted and showed your scalp with ease. It was like watching a hot knife cut through butter. “Woah….” He whispered out softly as he watched with his hands on your hips. You laughed quietly and gently pushed the loose hair to one side. Usually you’d be able to move fast, but you were slow just because it felt good when you felt his fingers in your hair. He bit his lip as you twirled the hair skillfully in your fingers, then added a rubber band to the end of your hair to keep the twist in place. “You’re so good at this yuki!” He smiled and gently kissed the side of your neck. “Well I sorta have to be,” you mumble as you hand him the comb. “Now you be sure to be gentle, okay? And… What does yuki mean?”

He took the comb in his hands and gently started to part your hair- admittedly much better than you ever thought he could. They were straight, uniform, clean parts, and that little hum to the music he did when he was focused made it that much better. “Yuki? O-Oh! It means lily in Japanese…. Yknow… Japanese is my native language I just thought it’d be cute to give you a Japanese nickname… I-If you don’t like it I can change it or just say it i-in English,” he said nervously as he tilted your head back and started to twist slowly, making sure that it was tight and secure, but not too tight. “No no no, you’re okay my little prince,” you hum softly as you rub your hands against his legs causing him to chitter and whine softly. “Actually I think it’s quite cute… And it suits you well…” you muse softly to him as he moves on to the next twist, both of you humming to the song, the smell of the chili in the air blanketing the both of you. By the time he got finished with the last twist, dinner was done, the cornbread still in the oven. “Hey…” He said softly as you moved to your closet to grab your durag. “Shhhh I have a surprise for you,” you say quietly as your eyes let off that same golden glow as before. He cocked his head to one side and rose an eyebrow as you emerged with an electric yellow durag in hand, on one side was his signature lightning bolt and on the other was an embroidered icon of him in his signature point-and-shoot pose his glasses carrying a glint to them and by it was his hero name in fancy letters, underneath it was his kanji for his legal name. His eye sparkled even more and his hands quickly became slapped over his mouth. “Yuki,” he whispered softly from behind his hands, his eyes tearing up. You looked it over and then smirked a little as you looked at him. “You like? I figured you would considering how you’re always telling me that I look good in yellow… What better yellow than my husband’s, right?” You crawl back to the bed and in between his legs, gently gifting him with a proper kiss, your hands resting against his face, the durag placed messily atop your head as the strings laid at the sides. He eagerly kissed you back, his body practically trembling as he let a couple of tears fall. “Awww baby,” you say with a soft smile as you gently use your thumbs to swipe his tears away. He gripped your hands and kissed at your palms gently. “That is… Probably one of the most meaningful gifts I have ever seen in my… Entire life… I mean look at it! It looks absolutely AMAZING on you and like… Just… It’s so badass! Like… It’s a little unbelievable actually… It’s ME… I’m a hero now… And I have an amazing little lily at my side to call my own… This is more than I ever could have DREAMED of!” You laugh quietly as he rambles, your eyes gazing lovingly into his as you spread the strings to be completely flat and you gently wrap them around the back of your head and then looked up at him with a soft smile. “This is… More suppose than I could have ever even hoped to have,” he said with his soft vulnerable giggle, gently pressing a kiss into your forehead before taking the strings in his hands, whispering to himself trying to recall how to tie the strings flat. “D-Don’t tell me! I got it… ‘kay.. So I think you…” he trailed off as his breathing deepened and he bit his lip slowly trying to work through the steps. “Okay… So you tied it in the back… So I just need to…” He let one of the strings go and he made the string in his hand flat, guiding it above your ear, wrapping it around your forehead. “And then… Bring it around town,” he whispered softly, causing you to giggle and cover your mouth. You noticed his face flush as he watched the design come to life and he bit his lip to contain his squeals. “So… Then…. Around town,” he said softly as he repeated the same steps on the opposite side. You smiled as he rose himself up a little and you buried your face in his chest with a soft sigh as he gently bound both strings in a bow behind your head before leaning back and giggling with jazz hands. “Ah! It looks so good!” He giggled before gently straightening it out and making sure everything was flat and centered. He did, surprisingly well, taking a picture of you and showing you after setting it as his home screen. “God… I could look at you all day,” he said in a breathy whisper before being tackled into the couch by you, you cuddling him close, burying your face into his neck, his muscular arms wrapping around you and holding you close. “That little ‘around town’ thing was cute, y’know,” you giggled softly as you made him look up at you. His arms rested around your hips as he gave you this beaming grin as the oven alerted the both of you again. “I-It’s how you taught me… It’s the only way I’ll remember it,” he whined quietly as he leaned up and nipped your neck. You giggled softly and pushed him back down on the couch before sliding off of him again. “Wait! I wanna make plates,” he pouted at you and crossed his arms peeking at you from just over the back of the couch. “Aht, lay it back down. I’M taking care of it tonight,” you say quietly as you pop your lips at him and he abides, throwing one of his feet over the back of the couch as he continues to watch the show you put on with a soft smile, occasionally taking peeks at you from the couch with a blush washing over his face. “I could never get tired of this,” he whispered softly to himself.

#black velvet x bnha #bnha x black reader #bnha fluff #bnha x reader #bnha x black!reader #kaminari x reader #kaminari fluff #denki kaminari fluff #kaminari x black reader #denki kaminari #denki kaminari bnha #kaminari denki x reader

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littlefreya · 4 years

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The Way to Hell - Part 5

*No permission is given for reposting my work, copying it or parts of the source material and claiming it as your own*

Summary: Post Mi6 - August manages to escape with his face intact and just won himself the title of being the most dangerous man on earth. With every agent in the world on the hunt for him, life became a living hell, but that’s okay because hell is where he reigns.

Too bad for the woman who’ll stand in his way.

Pairing: August Walker x OFC (Ingvild)

Word count: 4K

Warnings: Dark themes, kidnapping, gore, slight violence, mentions of sexual encounters, dirty words, sexual threats. It’s August, he’s the baddest of bad boys!

A/N: Thanks again for reading guys, I am having fun with August and Igni 💖 and really enjoy reading your feedback so keep it coming! Thanks @agniavateira for editing my work and consulting me through and through!

Title: History of a Bad Man

“Sit down,” August commands coldly, his hand pushing her bony shoulder, forcing her to sit on the bed. Ingvild’s behind lands on the mattress with a bounce, her gaze remaining on the strange menacing man as he moves through the room with harsh steps. An irritated look mars his face as he looks for something.

She exploits the sparse moment of false freedom, searching for his well-concealed arsenal. Liam’s words of wisdom from her days of training echo in her mind. “There is always a slip,” an absentee of the mind. This large dangerous man might be an equal opponent yet he is just a man.

And this agent of chaos had his plan interrupted, ironic as it may be. In his fine work of hiding most of the weapons from her reach, he remained negligent, keeping his handgun next to the laptop on his desk.

Keep in mind he carries that knife with him. The scar on her torso should be a keen reminder.

“Can I at least have my undergarments back? Or do you plan to keep me here naked, Mr. Walker?” she calmly asks.

“I don’t plan to keep you.” August speaks with no real emotion in his voice. He has left her clothes to dry on the radiator throughout the night. Her tactical suit is still damp but her ridiculously small underwear and bra seem to have dried. He picks them up, then carelessly throws them at her face before grabbing the large medical kit.

The garments are warm and pleasant to the touch. Ingvild manages to slip into her underwear beneath the bathrobe with haste before August returns to sit in his chair.

Appearing determined, he unzips the blue medical bag, preparing some bandages and pulling out a bottle of antiseptic. “Open up,” he speaks, gesturing at the white cotton robe around her body.

She stares at him oddly, her hands latching onto the fabric.

He sighs, rolling his eyes at her. Fine lines of irritation are drawn on his forehead. “The bandage is wet and needs to be replaced. Do you want your wound to get infected?”

Cautiously she observes him, wondering what brings a malicious man who tried to kill her only a few hours ago to tend to her wound. It seems like any action he performs is robotic, as if he is still in the CIA, following protocols. Curiosity sets her mind, driving her to follow his request with obedience and untie the cotton bind that holds the robe together.

August keeps his leer on his face, whether she is frightened by him or not he can’t determine. She seems trained in hiding or faking her emotions.

As most women are.

His fingers pry the robe open, just enough to uncover the fusty bandage on her torso.

Carefully, his eyes descend from her face to her chest, unable to ignore the way the fabric hangs on the edge of her small perky breast. The roundness of it appears tempting enough to sink his teeth in and leave a nice, bleeding bite mark for another scar on that beautiful pure skin.

You love it when they’re pure.

He brushes that vampiric thought away, trying to keep a clear, indifferent mind as he begins to peel the medical tape from her pale flesh.

The coldness on his face is mesmerizing. There is not an inch of care as he removes the old bandages and exposes her ghastly injury. The crescent line is bulging out, looking purple and irritated while the damaged skin around the area of the wound is white with a tint of blue. She stares at it with almost clinical fascination, her gaze tracing the shape and the amateur-looking stitches without saying a word.

Not even a complaint about damaging her fine-looking body?

“You haven’t answered my question.” His deep voice disturbs her exploration, forcing her to avert her gaze to his face. He is stern, focused on the wound as if he has any care for her well-being. Using the back of his fingers, he moves one side of the robe to further examine the status of the stitches.

“Which one? You ask so many August, you’re like a really boring date.”

If truth be told, the last 14 hours have been anything but boring. She kissed death on its fickle lips and was brought back to life by the devil himself to later share moments of carnal euphoria in front of one another.

All in a day’s work.

Yet she prevents him from having that pride, gifting him with snide in her voice and one of her trademark scornful smirks. He smirks back, giving her just as much as hatred in return while opening the bottle of alcohol and pouring some of it onto the sterile gauze.

Oh princess, I’m about to enjoy how much this is going to hurt.

“One: I asked you who Liam is.” he raises his voice and presses the damp gauze onto the wound without warning. His eyes shine with child-like anticipation, waiting for the scream that never leaves her controlled breath. The torment in her glassy grey eyes is apparent yet her face is stoic, not even a twitch of a muscle as she swallows her suffering and keeps her pride.

Impressive.

“Let’s play a game then,” she suggests, her voice strained as she forces herself to speak without any sign of tremor from the searing pain that’s inflicted upon her. August cocks one eyebrow up, curious to hear her suggestion.

“Quid pro quo.”

His head tilts to the side, considering the idea. If anything, August Walker always loved to speak about himself, even when people didn’t know it was himself he was speaking of. Hiding behind the pseudonym of John Lark, he speaks about his horrifying actions as if he was some ghost or a myth, while all the glory was always his.

“Whatever.” He agrees to her terms and continues to wipe the wound clean, applying a wisp of more alcohol to cleanse the blood clots that formed around the stitches. He imagines this hurts like hell, if he was in her place right now he’d be squirming with agony yet she keeps her composure, eyes still as death.

Ingvild watches as he leans closer, his head nearly rests on her chest. He takes his time, patiently examining and cleaning the injury he inflicted on he. August Walker is a patient man. She takes a mental note before deciding to answer his question. “Liam is my job trafficker.”

“You mean your pimp?” he mocks her, his stormy blue eyes granting her a glimpse of his disrespectful reaction before he places the bloodstained gauze away.

He is answered with silence, cold and unyielding, just like her. “Does he or anyone else know I’m here?” he asks, taking an antiseptic ointment and applying it onto a new piece of gauze.

“Are you not a man of your word, August Walker?” she asks and leans back as he presses the bandage onto the wound. “Quid pro quo, remember?”

No, I am the great deceiver.

Her eyes are at him, claiming sincerity from a man who tried to lie and trick her from the moment they first met. But then again, she also was never honest with him to begin with, pretending to be just a girl when she was anything but.

A deep arduous sigh escapes his mouth. He takes a larger piece of dressing and places it onto the wound to cover the entire area.

“Fine, ask away.”

She stares as he takes the medical tape and cuts it into smaller pieces, placing the first piece between her skin and the dressing. He then smooths his finger over the tape to keep the bandage tight on her wound.

“Why do you want to destroy the world, August Walker?”

August pauses, lifting his eyes again to meet her face. She has her chin resting on her fist, staring at him with pure and sick fascination. Almost as if she’s excited to hear the history of this very bad man. It occurs to him in that very instant that the girl who was sent out to eliminate him has not a drop of idea of who she’s been sought out to hunt. Typical Erica Sloane, he thought, let the dogs sniff him out but tell them nothing.

“You really know nothing do you, little girl?”

“I got your file, it tells me everything about you: army service, height, weight, all your operations, skills, achievements, and ex-girlfriends. All the boring stuff.” She explains, watching the frown that forms on his face as if his ego is bruised. “I know that you tried to detonate a nuclear device almost a week ago, but I don’t know why, it’s as if, pieces of the puzzle are… missing?”

She nearly hisses as August places the last piece of tape on her dressing, the careful, clinical touch from before is now replaced by a crude, punishing one. “Did Erica mention what she did?” he asks, pressing his thumb against the tape to create more pressure. “Did she tell you about the rot in the CIA and the government? A system so biased and corrupt that it forces people like you to fall victim to the sickness the old world order created.”

Ingvild watches him intently, ignoring the punishment his fingers wrongfully inflict on her wound as if she’s the one to blame. There is a blazing hot fury in his eyes but also an emotion she hasn’t seen before, deeming those ocean blues to look like an animal that was injured, or stripped off of its pride.

Curious, she thinks to herself while his thumb tightens another tape to her skin and slides onto her torso, grazing the naked skin unkindly.

“I am going to fix the world, princess.�� He answers with a rasp in his voice, glaring fiercely into those rain cloud eyes when something hard and cold pushes beneath his chin. The black barrel of a gun, of his gun, sinks into the softness of the tender flesh beneath his jaw.

There is a sick smile dancing on her face as she holds the gun to his face, her finger resting on the trigger, flirting with it while August stares at her in a mixture of surprise and fury.

“No you won’t,” she speaks, and pulls the trigger.

The empty metallic click rings in his ears, but not even a twitch or a wrinkle forms at his face as she pushes her finger against the little nub. She pulls the trigger for the second time and then for the third. All the lines in her brow become apparent, her eyes narrowed with hatred and frustration as she continues to shoot the unloaded gun with gritted teeth.

August grabs her wrist tightly, pulling her hand away and forcing the gun out of her hand. “You really thought I didn’t see you take my gun?” He asks with an arrogant smirk on his face. “That I’d be stupid enough to leave a loaded gun unsupervised with a woman like you, princess?”

She utters a small growl, staring at him with deadly determination while trying to wrest her wrist free from his grasp to no use. “Stop calling me princess. I will kill you, August Walker.”

August hisses with disrespect while staring deeply into her eyes, as if seeking for something in them. Her glare is bewitching. He imagines she has great power over every man who stands in her way like a black widow, luring her prey into the web.

But he is not falling for these tricks. These days are long gone.

With the brisk move of his hands, her wrists are captured and she is forced flat onto the mattress. He places one knee over and shoves her crudely to lie straight between the pillow before slamming her hands onto the bars of the bed. There are no screams of fear or protest from her mouth, but small whispered grunts as she slightly squirms beneath him instead.

It would have been so fun to break her, to strip her from her tightened control and expand her range of emotions to new heights of fear and suffering. But time is not his ally and he imagines it would take more than a few hours.

With wrists so slender he manages to easily subdue her with one hand. Ingvild sucks her breath, watching as the large man hovers above her, appearing much larger and stronger than he did before. If not for her injury, she would have fought him and flipped him over before he knew it but he disarmed her without difficulty. He made her weak and it only makes her heart throb and her skin crawl with tingling anger.

“Don’t try to fight me, it’s not gonna help,” he warns her as he reaches one lengthy arm to the nightstand where remnants of the rope are hidden.

“Convenient,” she teases fearlessly and watches as he moves back and slings the rope over the bars and around her hands several times. His hand tugs at the binds, making sure it’s tight enough to make her hands turn white due to the blood circulation being cut off. The rope hurts her skin, her fingers splay succumbing to the pain and a small moan leaves her lush pink lips.

There it was, the sound he’s been waiting to hear all day long. She’s yielding to her suffering, letting the pain flow through her form. Letting go of the binds, his hand moves to hover above her face, the phantom of a memory of those same eyes soaked in pleasure in his mind. Ingvild stares back silently, yet the bemusement in her eyes is distinguished. She looks like an animal, unsure and untrusting of the predator who stands before her.

August allows his thumb to stroke her cheek, feeling the small flinch beneath the tip of his finger. He traces the outline of her jaw, giving her a small hazy grin. His lips inch closer to hers, his eyes shutting as he visibly inhales the scent of her body. “Don’t provoke me angel, I won’t stop even if you cry.”

Her eyes focus on the freckles at his nose, secretly counting them before her gaze drops to his lips, studying the shape beneath the coarse hair of his moustache. August awaits for that rewarding expression of fear to shadow her face yet she gives him not an inch of vulnerability. Twice he had the empty pit that is her soul naked. Once at the lake, the other in the shower. This is a woman he saw in two of her very worst moments in life yet her composure is a desert of ice.

“Huh…” He huffs with intrigue and shifts away from the bed, leaving her captive and helpless with pain building in her wrists.

“Where are you heading next?” Ingvild teases, knowing she will not receive a solid answer. Her eyes follow August as he rushes through the room, trying to learn every detail that may provide a hint of where he is heading next.

Ignoring her he grabs the leather traveling bag, placing it on the desk and pausing as he begins to carefully calculate his steps. The sun highlights his tall frame as he stands still. Ingvild stares at how the light makes him look golden and almost god-like.

“Will you just leave poor little me like this?” She asks with false sweetness on her tongue, her hands tugging the ties fruitlessly, making the bars shake and the pain in her wrists worse with the friction of the rope cutting into her skin.

August chuckles, turning to look at her as she attempts to provoke him. “Don’t worry love, housekeeping will pick you up at one point.”

He collects every item meticulously, sweeping through the room to make sure nothing is forgotten. The room appears more tidy and organized than it was before he walked in, except of course, for the half-naked woman tied to the bed posts.

I’m sure it will make for some hilarious stories among the hotel staff.

His mobile phone buzzes, a message from Knight_of_Darkn3ss has been received.

“Fucking idiotic nerd name.” He mutters and shakes his head as he opens the message:

“I have arranged an exit point for you. The Love boat leaves in 2 hours. Better hurry, Lark.”

“I’ll keep coming after you, Walker Texas Ranger…” She sounds peaceful as she makes her threat, as if she’s speaking politely of the weather or asking him about his day. “I always finish a job.”

He slips the phone back into his pocket and turns to stare at the girl who is no longer afraid to die. Now vamping with death instead, she lies relaxed in the sun-shower of the bed, surrounded by a sea of white sheets with red floral patterns. They look more like splatters of blood from where he is standing.

She doesn’t fight the bind that holds her anymore, remaining calm with her hands above her head like a sacrifice.

“Should I have left you to die then?” August asks darkly, making his advance toward her with long, heavy strides. His eyes are shadowed with lust for the kill, like a hunter that hunts for sport. He hovers above her once more, staring deep into those icy grey eyes.

“I wanted to grant you the gift of always knowing I took your life and gave it back.” He answers cruelly, and bites his lower lip. His hand hovers over her form, moving like a maddened composer. “Enjoy whatever life I gave you, sweet Ingvild. Don’t play the hero and try to save the world, or try chasing me. I won’t be merciful next time.”

A cold grin begins to spread across her face, slowly growing into vile laughter that thunders in his ears. “I don’t care if this world burns, let it go to ashes.” She stares at him sincerely, her grin now replaced by a determined hateful glare.

“All I care about is the job. I will terminate you.”

The world was indeed in her last concern. It was never kind to her and she cared very little about the stupid people who harboured it and even less about the ugliness and toxicity that it stenched from. Her only concern in life was to never fail a mission. And Liam, who was the only person she had what she believed to be a relationship of some sort.

Bewildered and impressed by her brutal honesty, he nearly allows himself to fall deeper into the trap that is being offered in front of him. The temptation to delve deeper and seek those vulnerabilities, to rip her to shreds now when she is in her weakest moments. But he clears his mind from thoughts, forbidding them to pester him of ghosts from his previous life. He is a man on a mission and now he must leave the girl behind.

“Farewell, dear Ingvild.”

Ingvild watches carefully, trying to comprehend his actions as he crouches above her, imprisoning her square chin with his forceful fingers. As he sinks closer, his breath caresses her skin, and she smells the scent of coffee and cologne mixed with his natural musk. Her heartbeats become abnormal, as if preparing her body for battle. She tries to escape his grip as his fingers travel to her throat, realizing he means to snap her neck.

But instead she is assaulted by the tender brush of his lips, slow and feather-like they land onto hers. August feels a delicacy so tender that his instinct is to sink his teeth in it. Yet he reverts from it, pulling away before these thoughts grow into actions.

Silence takes the room as he departs, making strong hasty strides while grabbing his traveling bag. Ingvild watches how his long coat flings in the air like a cape of a villain as he hurries to the door. He doesn’t look back, not even when he shuts the door, leaving her alone in the room with her lips tingling.

*~*~*

It took nearly 20 minutes to fight for her freedom. She tugged, pushed, and tore off the skin from her wrists until the wooden bars gave in before her hands did. At one point she felt as if she was close to blacking out. She was injured, starved, and dehydrated yet she endured. Adrenaline is spiking liquid in the tendons of her throat, keeping her fighting like a berserker.

Being beaten was a physical concept she never experienced before. She got her ass kicked in the past, during training, during a combat. But she won and bested every target. Even Liam who was heavier and skilled eventually fell on his back with her heel shoved onto his chest.

August Walker taught her the true meaning of failure and lack of control. The more thoughts of killing him sprang in her mind, the more it felt like butterflies that were locked fluttering in her chest.

Dressed in her still damp suit and a pair of gloves, she unlocks the door to her apartment with a meek hand. She’s not so surprised to find Liam sitting on her couch with a look of disdain on his face, not even bothering to look concerned at her sickly pallor.

She gives him an odd glare as she shuts the door behind her. “Were you waiting here all day long with the same face and didn’t move until the moment I walked in, or did you time this?”

“Where the hell were you? I couldn’t call or trace you,” Liam ignores her joke, giving her a stern glare while quickly observing her messy appearance. “This isn’t like you, Ingvild, you are not clumsy.”

“I dropped my phone into the toilet while I was on a date,” she teases again, shaking her head at him with fake disbelief and then throws her key at the stand near the door. August’s folder is on the coffee table in the living room, just where she left it before leaving on her failed mission.

She ignores Liam’s unsatisfied face, bouncing on her feet lightly and then sitting down next to the coffee table while grabbing the file to reread it.

Liam glares at her with a clenched jaw, his lips stretched to a thin line while he looks at the girl as she acts so juvenile. Legs crossed together while her eyes sift through the documents urgently, she tries to find anything that will give a clue.

“You think this is a game? You know the terms of your contract, don’t make me remind you what happens if you fail.” He looks at her, reminded of the day he collected her from the orphanage, a weird little girl with a murderous look on her face. Much of her remained the same. The ability to know what really went through that complicated mind of hers was impossible..She was blocked, incapable of feeling anything but starvation in her heart. He only assumed it was for violence.

“I want to read his manifesto,” she lifts her gaze to meet Liam's face. Curiosity is shining on her weary eyes. “Why was it not in the file?”

The older man shrugs, curling his mouth. “Sloane didn’t include it. It’s irrelevant to your mission. Have you made any progress in tracking him?”

“I was naked in bed with him,” she answers nonchalantly, giving him a fake smile and then returning her eyes to the section on the file that mentions his past relationships. Her finger travels down through the list, mouthing the names of his many conquests. No wonder they called him “The Hammer”. There were so many of them.

“Are you going to answer me, Ingi?”

“I need a new phone and I need to get to England tonight if possible.” She finally answers, closing the file and jumping to her feet which she immediately regrets for the astonishing pain in her torso. All day long, since the moment she opened her eyes to find herself in August’s bed, all she wanted to do was throw up from the pain and scream into a pillow.

Liam gets up from his seat as well, the older man towering above her and taking a step forward while studying the determination on her face. “What’s in London, girl?”

“A lead.”

_____________________________________________________

Disclaimer: I do not own Mission Impossible and August Walker!

#August Walker #Henry Cavill #August Walker Smut #Henry Cavill Smut #mission impossible fallout #Mi6 #August Walker x OFC #Henry Cavill x OFC #Henry Cavill Fanfiction #August Walker Fanfiction #augustwalker #augustwalkersmut

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echoes-of-the-clockwork · 3 years

Text

Book One: Gold (Prompto x Reader) Chapter XVII

The following day, the royal retinue and guardian left Lestallum. With Gladio now back with them and the mythril refined, they were ready to head back to Cape Caem. It was a two-hour drive and once they arrived, they headed straight for the lighthouse. As they were about to step into the elevator, a dog with black and white fur ran up to Noctis. The boy kneels down, patting the canine's head. He then checks the notebook it's carrying.

While Noctis read Lunafreya's message, the golden-eyed dog trotted over to (Y/n). The spirit glanced down at the animal, wondering what it wanted when it barked at her. Squatting down, she held out her hand. The canine licked her hand, then nuzzled its nose against her palm.

"Hey, Umbra likes you!" Prompto stated excitedly.

"Umbra?" The girl reiterated.

"That's his name. He's a divine messenger of the Astrals." Prompto kneeled beside her and petted the top of Umbra's head. He abruptly stopped his ministrations when a thought crossed his mind. "Wait, wouldn't you be considered a divine messenger too? Y'know, since you can talk to an Astral?"

"Doubtful," she scoffed. "I'm not a divine being like Umbra. All I am is a vessel."

"Still, it's pretty cool."

After Noctis writes his reply in the book, Umbra moves away from (Y/n) and Prompto. He sits and waits patiently for the raven-haired boy to put the book back in the bag. With the book now back in his possession, the canine takes off. Everyone then boards the lighthouse elevator and rides it down to a basement area in a seaside cave. There, they find the hidden harbor and a makeshift living room area. The boat they'd be using to cross the ocean was docked nearby. Talcott, Iris, Cid and Cor appeared to have been waiting for them.

The little boy stepped forward with an excited gleam in his eyes. "Look, Prince Noctis! Even the marshal came to say goodbye!"

When the group reached the bottom of the stairs, Cor spoke up. "Something I gotta get off my chest."

Noctis met the marshal's somewhat melancholic gaze. "What's that?"

"I'm sorry. Sorry I wasn't there for your father. I swore an oath to protect the king, but I wasn't strong enough to uphold it." Cor lowered his head in shame.

Cid, who'd been silent until now, spoke up. "Ain't nothin' nobody could've done to stop what happened."

Noctis was quiet for a second before responding. "Yeah, I realize that."

"But you need to realize just what you mean to the boys by your side."

"I do."

"Even if they can't solve your problems, you can't hide what's goin' on from 'em. It hurts like hell. Remember—those ain't your bodyguards, they're your brothers. Trust in 'em. Always."

As Noctis glanced at his three closest friends, Cor finally took notice of the (h/c)-haired girl standing behind Prompto. He saw her slitted eyes and the golden gemstone embedded in her upper right arm. After recognizing her as a spirit, he approached her. "You..."

(Y/n) met the marshal's gaze. She felt a somewhat familiar sensation when staring into his eyes. The moment she went to speak, Prompto beat her to it. "Is there a problem, marshal?"

Cor's gaze never left the guardian. "May I speak in private with her, Prompto?"

"Um..." The blonde glanced over at the girl. "I...don't see why not."

"Then let's head topside."

(Y/n) followed Cor up the stairs and into the elevator. They rode it back to the top and stepped off. He leaned against the wall of the lighthouse, eyes still focused on the guardian. "It's been a while since I've met a spirit."

"You're familiar with my kind?" She asked. The marshal slipped one of his hands into his pocket and pulled out a necklace. The jewel adorning it was black, cracked, and had a silver phoenix wrapped around it. The guardian easily recognized the gem. "Marshal, you...?"

"I once had a guardian. Viola was my entire world until the empire killed her. Her death was entirely my fault." Cor gripped the necklace tightly. "Before I became a full-fledged member of the Crownsguard, I was nothing but a punk. During my training, I was sent on a mission outside the city. Damn imperials swooped in out of nowhere and ambushed my squadron. She protected me and lost her life in the process. I truly never knew pain until I lost her."

(Y/n) hung her head with a sorrowful frown. "I'm sorry for your loss, marshal."

"Even though it was over 20 years ago, the pain has never faded."

"Was Viola the one to tell you about the conduit?"

"Yeah. She learned about it from an elder guardian and told me about it during our final mission together." The marshal put the necklace back into his pocket. "So tell me, are you the conduit she spoke of?"

"I am. I only learned the truth after leaving the city and encountering the Archaean," she stated.

"Then our gamble paid off."

(Y/n) blinked in bewilderment. "What gamble?"

"The Crownsguard was aware of your presence within the city. You were only four years old when you and a baby were brought to Insomnia by one of our spies. We've kept tabs on you and the child in secret to ensure you weren't a threat to Lucis. Turns out, neither of you are." Cor analyzes the girl's face, but was slightly taken aback when her expression mellowed out. "You're not surprised by this news?"

"I'd be lying if I said I was," she confessed. "I never knew how I got to Insomnia, but I was aware of who I truly was. Verstael Besithia is my true master, not Prompto. I'm not the real (Y/n), I'm just a reproduction."

"So your memories of your creation are intact," Cor muttered. "Remember anything else?"

"Of course I do," she sneered. "That bastard is the one who killed the real (Y/n). I was made to replace her after she betrayed him. He thought making a perfect replica would erase the memories of the past, but he was wrong. I remembered everything when I turned 12."

Cor was thoroughly intrigued by the revelation. "Why did the real (Y/n) betray him?"

"His mind became corrupt and she no longer wanted to support his twisted experiments. She was set on leaving and sharing his secrets with Lucis, but he killed her before she could." She turned her back to the marshal. "I'm but a mere imitation of her with her memories. I'm a false guardian. Why the hell would Brahma choose me to be his vessel?"

"You might be a copy, but you're still a guardian nonetheless. If an Astral deems you worthy to wield his power, don't question it." Cor took a few steps back towards the elevator. "I've kept you long enough. You need to be on that boat with His Majesty."

(Y/n) stopped him before he could call the lift. "Wait, I want to ask you one last question. How'd you know who I was?"

A smirk appeared on the marshal's face. "You threw a fireball at me when you were five. Guess you don't remember."

"That was you?" She gasped. "So this isn't our first meeting."

"I was impressed by your power for a guardian your age. I'm the one who told His Majesty to keep you and Prompto together. We gave the bracelet to him once he was taken in by a family."

She rubbed her arm with a smile. "And I'm grateful you did."

"You kept your presence hidden well from the family. I'm surprised."

"Yeah, well, I was slumbering in the gemstone until Prompto turned five. How would I explain my situation to his adoptive family in a way they would understand?"

"You got me there." Cor summoned the elevator. When it arrived, they both rode it back down to the hidden dock. When the two stepped off the lift, they saw the boys and Cid were already aboard the boat. Seeing they were waiting for (Y/n), she said farewell to the marshal before quickly making her way to the boat. She climbed aboard just as the vessel came to life.

As the boat pulls away from the dock, Talcott suddenly shouts out to Noctis. "Hey! Your Majesty!"

"What's up?" Noctis replied.

"Please come back soon! We need our king!"

He nodded with a faint smile. "Yeah. Count on it."

Talcott and Iris wave goodbye and Noctis waves back. The boat leaves Cape Caem and soon enters open waters. (Y/n) stood near the stern of the boat. While the boys chatted, she leaned against the metal railing and stared across the glistening sea. Her (h/c) locks blew through the salty breeze, washing away the weariness in her body. She sighed contently and closed her eyes for a few seconds before reopening them.

Spotting a multi-colored reflection on the surface of the ocean, the guardian's eyes traveled up to the sky. There, she saw the Celestial Crescent glowing radiantly with an array of beautiful colors. Her blissful smile fell as she recalled her conversation with Cor. Curious, she spoke to the god of creation. "Can you hear me, Brahma?"

Yes, Child. I am always with you.

"You said I have a pure heart and hold no ill-will, but I'm a fake. How can a replica be a pure spirit?" She inquired.

You are no mere replica. You are a pure Child of Pneuma regardless of your fabricated body. No other spirit has proven themselves to be as pure as you. Cast your doubts aside for they will only cloud your mind.

She hung her head with a heavy sigh. "I understand, but that still doesn't mean I'm okay being a fake. The real (Y/n) died years ago."

Believe in yourself. That is all you can do. Whether you are a replica or not, you must see your worth. You are the inheritor of my power and none shall take your place. Hold your head high and walk tall, Child of Pneuma.

The god was right. She needed to stop calling herself a replica and believe she was her own individual. Her powers and experiences were her own and no one could ever tell her otherwise. The belief she had in herself that she extinguished was burning brighter than ever. She smiled up at the sky. "Thank you, Brahma." Pushing herself off the railing, she walked towards the plush bench Noctis, Prompto, and Ignis were sitting on.

"Nice of you to join us, short stuff," Gladio commented as she came to a stop in front of the bench.

"Sorry, had to clear my head," she said.

"You've been doing that a lot lately. Gil for your thoughts?"

"I'd rather not talk about it. It's more of an inner turmoil that I need to deal with myself."

Prompto was too curious and pried further. "Does it have to do with what the marshal said to you?"

She shook her head. "Not really, no."

"What did you two talk about, anyway?" Noctis inquired.

"He told me about Viola, his guardian. He lost her over 20 years ago. She's the reason why he knew about the conduit. That's...all we talked about." It wasn't the whole truth, but only a portion of it. The rest of the conversation she had with Cor would remain between her and him until she was ready to spill her darkest secret.

"The marshal had a guardian...?" Prompto gasped.

"He still carries around the necklace with her gemstone."

"He must've truly cherished her," Ignis commented.

Unconsciously, the marksman fiddled with the bracelet containing (Y/n)'s gemstone. "Yeah..."

Everyone fell silent. They enjoyed the sea breeze for a while until Cid sparked a conversation with Noctis. "So, soon you'll have yer old man's ring back."

Noctis nodded slightly. "Yeah. When we arrive in Altissia."

"Good thing. To him, it was his heritage."

"Is that what my dad said?" The raven-haired boy asked.

"Carrying a royal line ain't a task to be taken lightly," Cid explained. "For a small thing, that ring can sure weigh heavy. After he became king, I only ever saw his face in the paper."

"Wait—weren't you at the coronation?" Gladio questioned, interjecting into the conversation.

"Nah, I was long gone from the city."

"Must've been invited at least," Noctis commented.

"Had a fallin' out o' sorts with your old man. Right at the end of the trip," the old man said.

Prompto was taken aback at the revelation. "You did?"

Ignis then spoke up. "I was given to understand you stayed in touch."

"We buried the hatchet years later, but never talked face to face again. Shoulda paid a visit while I had the chance," Cid sighed sorrowfully. "Well, no use dwellin' on it now. Got the Regalia in the hold, but y'all gonna stay in Altissia for a good while, right?"

"Yes, we believe so."

"In that case, I'll tune her up for y'all. Not that I'll have much to do, though, what with Cindy lookin' after the old girl."

"If you say she's good, she must be great," Prompto said.

"She was never afraid o' hard work. Heaven knows she had a hard childhood."

""A hard childhood"?"

"He means her parents," Gladio clarified.

"Lost 'em both when she was little. Was big enough to understand, though...an' to hurt. But ya wouldn't guess that, seein' her now," Cid stated.

"Not at all. She's always so cheerful," Prompto said.

"Well, that oughta tell ya how far she's come."

(Y/n) decided to remain silent and listen to the conversation. She clasped her hands together behind her back, admiring Cindy from just how Cid talked about her.

After the conversation about Cindy died down, Gladio changed the subject. "Man, you must have seen your fair share of Altissia by now."

"Yeah... Only done been the once. Stayed a good while, though," Cid said.

Prompto leant forward, curiosity written all over his face. "What's it like?"

"Big ol' city."

""Big." Okay." Noctis was expecting more than just the word "big" and was clearly unamused.

"Well, it ain't the Crown City," Cid stated.

""Different." Got it."

"You'll see for yourself: foreign lands seldom lend themselves to trite explanations," the strategist claimed.

"Change o' scenery oughta do you good," Cid added.

Gladio huffed out a sigh. "Well, I'm all talked out. Can't be far to Altissia now, right?"

"We'll be there in no time. Nice having the wind at our backs."

"What should we do first when we arrive?" (Y/n) asked, glancing around at the boys.

"Lodging is our first order of business," Ignis answered.

Prompto sighed. "All work and no play..."

"Makes Ignis a dull boy," Noctis said, finishing his best friend's sentence.

"Someone has to babysit you two," Gladio stated. "Well, Noct still needs a babysitter. Prompto's already got one." His amber eyes landed on (Y/n).

The blonde went to retort, but then an idea came to mind. "You and Iggy can babysit Noct. I'm taking my special lady on a date!"

"It's not a date if she has to babysit your ass."

Prompto pursed his lips. "Hmph, you're just jealous I've got a beautiful goddess to walk around with."

"We're not good enough for you?" Noctis asked.

"I don't wanna walk around a city with a romantic atmosphere with three guys," the blonde groaned.

Gladio walked over and smacked (Y/n) on the back. "Good luck with this one, short stuff."

"I think a date would be nice," she confessed.

Prompto flew to his feet, pumping his fist into the air. "All right! This is gonna be so much fun!"

Once the blonde calmed down and sat back down on the cushy bench, Cid spoke up and mentioned he knew someone by the name of Weskham who runs a place by the name of Maagho. The group made note to visit the place after securing lodging.

A few minutes later, they enter Altissia waterways. The boat's radio came to life as a newscaster began broadcasting. "The government issued a statement promising that the reasons behind awakening the Hydraean would be clarified in the ceremonial address."

"Got a signal!" Prompto cheered.

"Delivering the address will be Lady Lunafreya, who was previously reported dead. This will mark her first public appearance since the violence that befell the signing ceremony."

"Lady Lunafreya's gonna give a speech?"

"Sounds like it," Gladio said.

"Lord knows—this world could use some wisdom," Cid sighed.

Ignis looked over at the raven-haired boy. "Won't be much longer now, Noct."

Noctis nodded. "Yeah."

Eventually, the boat pulls up to a guard who stands along the waterway. He asked the old man, "Does this vessel have an entry permit?"

Prompto was beginning to worry. "Uh, entry permit?"

"Relax. I got one." Cid holds up the entry permit the guard was asking for. "Here."

The Altissian guard examined the permit and nodded. "That's as old as they get. Seems in order. You may pass."

Cid drives the boat on ahead. Ignis eyed the old man and asked, "Prepared in advance?"

"You could say that. Thirty-odd years ago," Cid said.

"That's what the guy meant by "old"," Gladio remarked.

"Lucky us, eh?"

"That could've ended badly," Noctis commented.

"We could've always done some persuasion if it did," (Y/n) stated.

The prince met the girl's golden gaze. "You talking about bribery?"

"Something like that."

"Dude, that'd be sick!" Prompto chuckled. "Bribing our way into Altissia would totally be an amazing story to tell the others."

"I'm afraid we lack the funds for such a heinous act," Ignis said.

"Aw..." He hung his head with a dramatic sigh.

Cid slowly brings the boat into the docks. Everyone makes their way off the sea vessel and towards the city. Noctis walks up to a queue where some gatekeepers await. He was immediately stopped by one. "Sir! What is the purpose of your visit?"

"Purpose? Uh..." Noctis immediately looked at his advisor. "Ignis, a little help."

Ignis stepped forward and came up with the perfect excuse for them to enter the city. "We are scholars of the culinary arts, and we've come to study the renowned cuisine of your fair nation."

The gatekeeper believed the strategist. "Is that so? I wish you an enlightening stay."

The bespectacled man adjusted his glasses, turning to face Noctis. "Another one you owe me."

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risthebrave · 3 years

Note

hi!! i was wondering if you had any tips for writing smut?? i’m terrible at it and would love some of your h o l y advice <3

hi!! of course! i’m so so sorry this is so late! it’s been a busy (and emotionally exhausting) few days but i hope whoever sent this still sees this!! it’s sort of a mess but *hopefully* includes something helpful.

i’m going to put it under the cut though just in case:

first i want to link this super helpful smut writing 101 post that’s my go-to for providing references. it’s what helped me a lot when i was first attempting to write smut back in my first fic and was intimidated about where to start! in my opinion, it’s really thorough so i highly suggest giving it a read!

this one is also rather helpful! i got it from the @bottomlouisficfest writing tips tag which is another great place to look for writing resources and tips if you ever need any!

i don’t want to repeat what’s been said in those posts (probably way more eloquently than i could ever attempt) but i’m still going to list a few things that i tend to keep in mind/do when writing smut. just want to emphasize real quickly that there’s no “one correct set of rules” for writing smut and i’m surely not the single expert (or even an expert at all, lol) so read this and if something resonates with you, keep it mind, but if you disagree, then that’s fine too! it’s your writing and it should be what you want/like first and foremost.

now for the actual “tips” :

- analyzing smut scenes that you’ve thought to be “well-done”

just want to clarify that ‘analyzing’ never in a million years means ‘copying.’ all words you put down on that document should be 100% your own - i shouldn’t even have to explain that. but when you’ve never written smut before (or you have but not frequently), looking at smut scenes that you deem to be successful is a great way to get an idea of how to set up a scene. look at what they focus on and emphasize, how they balance description and dialogue, and how much they delve into the sensations/actions.

i can say pretty confidently that no one who’s never read a smut scene will be able to write a (good) smut scene, so read!! read and learn from what you read!

- be clear about what kind of scene you want to write

1. intent/purpose

what is the intent of this scene? okay, that sounds a bit confusing - it’s smut. the purpose is pretty much always going to be achieving intimacy between the characters, and/or portraying dynamics/etc but make sure you’re achieving those goals when writing smut/smut scenes. i know it may seem like you have to add smut to every fic you write (and i know i’m not one to talk considering all my fics so far have included - and some of them a lot of - smut) but it’s not a requirement! if you don’t want to write it or you don’t think it fits in with the story, don’t force it!

that being said, there is usually a “point” to the scene. sometimes people use smut as a plot device which is fine too (creating drama/angst - like fwb where one is pining or something like that - IDK) but you should know what that intent is before you write the scene so it aids your goal rather than contradicts it or worse, confuses reader. this sort of relates to the 3: atmosphere too so i’ll come back to this!

2. language

depending on the type of scene you want to write, your language and prose should reflect your intent/goal from before.

- cock vs other words: this one is less about the intent, and more just about language choices in general. ‘cock’ is the most widely used word for ‘penis’ in smut scenes for a reason, so i highly suggest using it. i know people don’t want to be repetitive so they try to use multiple words, but ‘cock’ is seriously your best best. if it isn’t broke, don’t fix it, and all that. ‘dick,’ ‘length,’ and maybe ‘shaft,’ or ‘prick,’ can be used too depending on the circumstances/atmosphere (for example, i’ll only use ‘dick’ in fics where the smut is “dirtier” because imo it stands out as a bit more crude?)

- come/cum: this is a differentiation that varies from writer to writer but what i personally tend to do is ‘coming/come’ for the verb and ‘cum’ for the noun. even then, i typically don’t use ‘cum’ in fics where the smut is less dirty, more romantic because again, it’s more ‘crude/dirty’ than the counterpart - once again, people’s opinions on this vary though, so think about what flows better with the type of scene you want to write.

and some more general writing tips: be precise with your word choice (this is actually sort of related to the above two things as well but i felt those needed to be separate dhjdkd) - words like ‘gripping’ and ‘grasping’ while seemingly being the same, tend to denote slightly different meanings, at least for me when i read! ‘gripping’ is more firm while ‘grasping’ is more desperate. things like this also connect to atmosphere but it’s language so i’m keeping it here!

some words/phrases that i keep in a list and that also may give you a good idea of the kind of writing that’s typical to smut scenes are: pumping fingers in vs fingers pressing in (those two also have different meanings/pictures), hips snapping forward vs hips drawing forward (again! it’s all about word choice), nails cutting shapes into the skin of his back, slow drag of his hips vs ramming in, cock thick and pressing deep, pushing deep with agonizing precision, fingers grasping helplessly at the sheets, toes curling into the mattress, skin slick with sweat, throat fluttering with every breath, head lolling back, body going slack, heart racing/thundering in his ears, etc etc.

think about the five senses and what the characters are feeling. think about the dynamic between them. all of that should be reflected in the writing style (and oftentimes already is, just subconsciously, but it never hurts to be aware).

3. atmosphere

in other words, is this scene meant to be romantic? dirty? is it more light-hearted or intense? these are things that should impact the way you write the scene. if i’m writing a romantic smut scene, then i’ll pay less attention to the actual acts itself and more to the emotions and tenderness behind it. there’ll probably be more metaphors (but also: never overuse metaphors because that also gets confusing) and sweet nothings being whispered in comparison to a scene with lots of dirty talk and more significance to the physical aspect (it’ll also probably include rougher sex in comparison to sweeter, slower sex).

if it’s a more light-hearted scene, consider adding elements such as humor to enhance that goal/intent (see, they’re back!) it’s all about what you want this scene to accomplish in the reader’s eyes!

just some other quick things: when you have multiple smut scenes in a fic, it can be hard to not get repetitive but you also don’t want them to be too similar. as a general recommendation, differences between scenes shouldn’t come from language or anything like that, but from things like setting or content (positions, actual sexual acts, etcetera). if they fuck in a bedroom twice, then maybe change it up - make it the shower or against the wall next time. and again, the atmosphere! switch it up!!!

also remember that you don’t have to include penetration to write a successful/satisfying smut scene! there’s plenty of other things your characters can do to get off and establish intimacy. i think one of the above resources mentions it but you also don’t always have to include the foreplay or every single step for the smut scene, especially if there’s already been a smut scene with all of those components. obviously, make it clear that the prep occurred already and that they’re being safe, etc, but you don’t actually have to show all of that stuff if you don’t want! and contrastingly, if there’s only one smut scene and it’s a longer fic, feel free to include more of the foreplay/build-up!

- balancing physical and emotional aspects

this one depends again on what type of scene you’re writing but it’s also good general advice. you don’t want to write a smut scene that glosses over all the physical aspects and just focuses on the feelings of a character to the point that you have no idea what they’re even doing but you also don’t want the opposite.

one thing i try to do is keep the descriptions of movements/actions to a minimum - that’s majority of what gets repetitive when you start to have multiple scenes in a fic and sometimes it includes unnecessary explanations for things. that isn’t to say you shouldn’t make sure the reader understands what’s going on (this is why watching porn is helpful - so you can see the best way to describe different positions and how bodies are moving in relation to each other. i know a lot of people don’t like porn but if you can tolerate it, this is literally one of the best ways to see visually what you want to write).

- dialogue

okay this wasn’t initially part of my list, but i just wanted to make a small note on it! dialogue during smut is honestly one of the most intimidating parts, at least in my opinion but a general rule to follow if you’re like me is: less is more.

and again!! dialogue should reflect the type of scene you’re writing. dirty talk is vastly differently from sappy compliments and you can have both in one, but thee has to be a balance!

dialogue is also one of the best ways to differentiate the participating characters and establish their dynamic. this goes beyond dialogue actually, but this whole post is unorganized at this point so let’s go with it. no two characters will act the same during sex! some are loud, some are quiet, some are dominant, and some are submissive. and guess what? that shows through when they talk!! things like begging, teasing/taunting, praising, and other verbal components all tell you something about the character so keep that in mind too!

also not quite dialogue but still verbal so sounds! things like whimpering, whining, gasping, groaning, moaning, grunting, growling (if it’s abo... or one of them just likes that sort of thing), and also screaming/yelping/crying out are all things that are regularly seen in smut scenes.

- practice!!

this may go without saying but i’m still going to say it. the only way to get better at something is by doing it again and again and the more you do it, the more you’ll learn and improve and the easier it’ll get. it may seem daunting right now but eventually it’ll be like second nature. the first full smut scene i ever wrote was literally less than a year ago (march, i believe) and i’ve written many many since then, some better than others, all showcasing new knowledge and techniques that i may not have utilized before. i honestly don’t even want to reread that first scene but i also know i don’t have to reread it to know i’ve improved a lot since then and so can anyone!

i have absolutely no idea if this is helpful or not but hopefully it is in some small way?? if you or anyone has any more specific questions that i can maybe help with, let me know! and sorry again that this is so unbelievably late!

#asks #have no idea if this is genuinely helpful #or if i just rambled nonsensically like i always do

15 notes · View notes

breaniebree · 3 years

Note

12, 13, 17, 19, 36, 59, 84 for new asks please!

Hi, Anon!

Thanks for asking! Love that there were so many!

12. Who is your favourite character to write for? Why?

Hmm... I think this changes depending on my mood. Lately it's been Tonks and Remus. I love writing their domestic bliss as well as Tonks being a badass Auror. I've been having fun with them. But usually I really love writing the Weasleys, particularly the brothers views on Ginny. I find them so fun, giving them each their own personality and Ron deserves so much love. He's just so awesome!

13. Who is your least favourite character to write for? Why?

Crouch. He's disturbing and disgusting, but that's how he appears to me and I can't change him or his gross ways. Also, I really hate writing from Draco's POV because I find him difficult and a bit of an enigma. I believe him to be an asshole, but very kind and attentive to those whom he deems worthy which makes him a contradiction to write sometimes.

17. Post a line from a WIP that you’re working on.

“Mum, we don’t know what happened. Everyone could be okay,” Ginny said, trying to keep her voice strong.

Molly merely held Ginny tighter as they stood there and waited for news.

19. Are there any stories that you’ve written that you’d really love to do a sequel to?

Hmm... I feel like everything I've written has more or less been completed at the end. Though I suppose I would like to write more of my Missing Moments one-shots, but I just haven't been inspired to do so as I've been so busy with A Second Chance. I do sometimes feel like I will need a sequel to ASC just to cover after the war, but we'll see ❤️

36. Can you give us a spoiler for one of your WIP’s?

Hmm, lots of spoilers here LOL. Um, yes, I can, the line (which I gave you 3 of) is from the last chapter I completed. The bit I am currently working on...

...and a flash of purple before he found himself flying through the air.

He grunted as he landed on his side, his ears ringing. His hand moved to his head, finding blood and he coughed as the room began to come into focus once more.

Grey smoke filled the chamber as purple flames erupted from the left side of the room. He blinked in confusion as the purple human torch disintegrated with a bang and a second rumble shook the chamber. Marble and stone collapsed as the flames shot out like long tendrils, stretching to reach everything in sight.

59. Which character(s) do you find the most difficult to write?

Most difficult for me tends to be Luna. I love her and I love her quirkiness, but I always find writing her is hard. I'm always worried I don't get her tone right, or her personality, or I take her a step too far or not far enough. Whenever I have her in a scene, I find myself second guessing everything I write and it's rather stressful to be honest LOL.

84. Copy and paste an excerpt you’re particularly fond of.

An excerpt I'm particularly fond of... I think I've said it before that this changes a lot depending on my mood, but lately I think it's the opening of my story ASC

They were dead.

They were both dead and it was all his fault.

He didn’t cry. He had no tears left in him to cry. He didn’t rage; he’d spent weeks doing just that, slamming his fists into the stones until his knuckles had bled; until his fingers were broken, but the pain never fazed him. He ate mechanically as the healer fixed his hands and the next day, he’d punched the stone all over again and again trying to feel something … anything.

He screamed. He shouted that he was innocent. He threatened to kill his former best friend, his brother. But it was for nothing.

It was all for nothing.

He was the one who had been betrayed; the spy who wasn’t; he was guilty in the eyes of the world and nothing he could say was going to change that.

And no one was listening anyway.

At first he thought that at least he would come. His best friend; the one who he had trusted most outside of the one who was his blood brother. The one who he had kept secrets for; the one who was so thankful and confused as to why they even called him friend, called him brother in the first place.

But he never came.

He too thought he was guilty; that he was just like the family that he had tried so hard to run from.

The days turned into weeks which turned into months. He paced; he ran on the spot; he spent hours doing push-ups and sit-ups; contemplated making a noose with his thin shabby sheet and just ending it until the rage consumed him once more. He was not going to take his own life; not while he was out there, the truly guilty party. The spy. The one that he had once called friend and brother.

The months dragged into that first year and his thin hold on his own sanity started to slip away from him as he counted the days, digging the rock into the stone to tally his sentence.

On his twenty-third birthday, he spent the day in fitful dreams; memories of the woman that he had called mother holding her wand above him and telling him how worthless he was; how spineless and unworthy he was to be in the Most Ancient and Noble House. He relived the feel of the torture curse, seeing his mother holding the wand; relived the pain of the belt that his father struck across his back and when he heard his own screams echoing in the stone cell — he clawed at the stone until his nails bled.

By the second year, he forced himself to transform the moment the memories came to the surface. He forced himself to think of happy thoughts, but he couldn’t remember any. Had he ever been happy? He was innocent. It wasn’t a happy thought, but it wasn’t a miserable thought either so they couldn’t take it away from him. He hadn’t murdered those people, true. But could he really be considered innocent?

It was his fault that they were dead; his decision; his stupid mistake.

He was innocent.

He was guilty.

He was innocent.

He was guilty.

He paced the cell back and forth as far as the chains would allow him; back and forth, marking the days each morning when he woke. He slept as a dog; woke to eat the gruel that they called porridge; one hour of push-ups; one hour of sit-ups, keep the body disciplined, keep the mind sane, he told himself repeatedly. He’d nap as a dog; wake to eat the gruel that they called stew and as the first wave of unhappy memories would unfold into his system, he’d transform and whimper in the corner.

By the third year, he had his routine down to a science. No one spoke to him. The healer came to check on him once a month; let him wash with a bowl of lukewarm water and a clean cloth. The healer never spoke and the soul-sucking creatures hovered as the healer trembled, waiting for him to finish so that he could leave. The moment that the healer was gone, he became a dog once more.

When he started his count into year four, he knew that he would die alone in this very cell. No one would ever discover that his old friend had been the real one to betray them; the real one to trick those who cared for him.

No one would ever know his story.

“Sirius?”

The voice sounded foreign, almost too far away. He recognized the Scottish burr, but he couldn’t place it. No one had spoken to him in four years, six months, and seventeen days. Was that his name? His head pounded, but for the first time all day it was clear, telling him that the soul sucking creatures had distanced themselves, at least partially, from his cell.

“Sirius Black?”

The hesitation in the voice now got his attention and he realized that it wasn’t a memory; someone was actually speaking to him.

Someone was outside of his cell.

He moved towards the bars, long thin fingers gripping the iron and his grey eyes bruised around the edges meeting the square beady brown eyes that he recognized so well and his heart stopped at the sight of them.

“Minnie?” he whispered hoarsely, the old nickname slipping out before he consciously thought about it.

The brown eyes rolled in exaggeration at him and for the first time in four years, six months, and seventeen days — he felt a bubble of laughter rising in his throat.

“Sirius,” she said softly, reaching to hold his ice cold hands where they clutched the iron bars tightly. “You remember me? I was worried that I might have been too late. The healer said… never mind. You know me.”

He shook his head, clearing the cobwebs that lingered there. “Yeah,” he said roughly. “Why are you here, Professor?”

Her eyes looked sad as she gripped his hands tightly from where they were clutched around the bars. “I’m sorry that it took so long, Sirius, I’m so sorry, but you are finally getting a trial. A trial to prove your innocence.”

His dark grey eyes met hers in shock. “What?”

“I don’t believe for a moment that you betrayed James and Lily, Sirius. I never have. James was like a brother to you and you… you loved that little boy. You deserve a trial. Maybe if we can understand why you…”

Sirius snorted now, his fingers gripping hers as he realized what she was saying. “You believe that I murdered thirteen people in a crowded street, but I didn’t betray my best friends. Interesting view you have of me, Minnie, my dear.”

“Sirius,” she said again, her voice quiet and stern. “I believe that you are innocent and I have been campaigning for you to be set free from the moment that you were arrested. Finally, the Minister has taken heed of my words and agreed to give you the trial you should have been given years ago. It will be in three days time.”

Sirius squeezed her fingers gently. “I am innocent, Minnie. I would never have betrayed them, never!”

McGonagall nodded, smiling at him. “I know. I will see you in three days, Sirius. I’m rooting for you.”

As he watched her leave, he felt the darkness pressing in on him once again and he moved away from the bars, letting his back rest against the cool stone.

Four years, six months, seventeen days — but he was getting a trial.

Thanks for the asks!

#ask me anything #harry potter fanfiction

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thecozywhaleshark · 4 years

Text

King of Hearts (pt. 9)

Word Count: 4062

Warnings: Angst. Smut. Oral (f. receiving). Praise. Unprotected sex (you know the drill beans, wrap it up). Basically the softest smut you’ve ever seen.

Summary: You thought you and Jin were done, but then he showed up at your book signing...

“Y/n Y/L/N?” “That’s me,” you nod vaguely in the direction the voice was coming from and sign another copy of your new book, smiling up at the woman before you.

“Hey, yeah I have an issue with this book.” A copy of King of Hearts slams down in front of you and you take a deep breath before looking up at the reader.

“I’m sorry sir, but please wait your turn.” You turn your gaze cooly towards the man and come face to face with the inspiration behind the novel.

Oh shit.

“And um - what seems to be the problem?” Your mouth has gone dry and you lick your lips, desperate for some moisture.

Jin’s heavy gaze falls on you. “I don’t like the ending.”

All the air seems to have left your lungs as you stare at the man in front of you.

He looks good, as always. In fact, he looks too good.

You clear your throat. “And what would you have me do about it?”

He folds his arms over his chest. “Write a sequel.”

You feel your jaw tick as you drag his copy over to you and click your pen. “I wasn’t planning on it. I have other stories to write.”

“But I think that there is so much left to their story that needs to be told.”

“Yeah? Like what? Where would you have me go with it?” You look up from his book and lean back in your chair, trying to act casual.

“Well for starters, I think they should have an extended conversation about her feelings towards him and his feelings towards her.”

You roll your eyes. “They already did, at the end of the book. Ryan didn’t feel the same way.”

“Well maybe Ryan didn’t have a chance to say how he really felt, maybe Katherine didn’t give him the chance.”

You stand up from your seat, outraged. “Katherine gave him many chances, but he wasn’t making anything clear!”

“Well Katherine wasn’t making things very clear either! What was Ryan supposed to think?! Katherine didn’t tell Ryan her feelings so Ryan couldn’t tell her his - because if he did, then what if Katherine wanted nothing to do with him anymore?” Jin’s frustrated eyes filled with an unwanted dampness that he angrily blinked back.

You blinked back, surprised.

“And if Katherine didn’t want anything to do with him... then I don’t think Ryan would ever recover from that rejection.”

Jin shoves his hands in his pockets, looking down and shuffling his feet.

“I’ll take your ideas into consideration, sir.” You manage to say, your voice cracking as you hurriedly sign his copy of the book and hand it back to him, looking him in the eye. “If you want, we can talk more about this later after the signing?”

Jin swallows thickly and nods. “That would be nice.”

“Okay then.” You put on your brightest, fakest smile and sit back down. “Have a good day.”

Tapping his fingers nervously against the sunniest table Christine’s Cafe could offer, Jin checked his watch, again.

Five more minutes.

He was anxious for you to get here, but even more anxious for the conversation that lay ahead.

When he had first picked up the book the week it was published, he almost hadn’t read it.

But it was one piece of you, a new piece of your brain, and so he had bought it, ignoring the looks the cashier had given him for buying a piece deemed erotica.

And the story had swallowed him whole.

It was... him. It was you. It was you and him. Both of you. Together. Your entire love story.

And he found that couldn’t put it down. He read the entire thing in one sitting, even calling off one of his clients to postpone to a later date so he could finish.

But the finish, that was when he knew he had to see you.

So he found your book tour on your website, had gone.

Had almost thrown up when he saw you, sitting at that desk and looking like you had everything together, while he felt like he was about to crumble if you so much looked at him. But he had managed to hold it together.

And then when you had signed his copy, you’d left a note.

“Meet me at Christine’s at 5-”

It was the first time he had felt, well, anything, in months.

He wouldn’t miss this meeting for the world.

You take a deep breath before you open the door to Christine’s, the place where this had all started. It had been a while since you had last been here. Had been a while since you had last seen Jin too... until today.

Looking around, you find him at the exact table you had made your contract at, staring absentmindedly out the window. He looks nervous.

He’s cute when he’s nervous.

You’re nervous too.

Just go over there.

Breathe.

Be brave.

“Hi,” you say, making him jerk his head away from the window and awkwardly attempt to stand up as you pull out your own chair and sit down.

“Hi,” he says shortly, ducking his head a little and running his palms over his pants as he tries to offer you a small smile.

“So...” you pick up the menu and begin to flip through it, though you have no idea how you are going to stomach anything right now.

He’s right there.

Like, right there.

Shut up and stop stating the obvious brain.

Focus.

F o c u s.

You swallow the lump in your throat and choose something blindly from the menu. “Do you know if the tuna melt here is any good?”

He blinks. “Um, I’m sorry - I don’t know,”

“Guess the only way to find out is to try,” you say with a shrug, putting down the menu. “What are you getting?”

“I haven’t decided... I didn’t know we’d be eating.”

You shove the menu in his direction. “I think it would be wise. We have a lot to talk about.”

He nods. “We do.”

He scans the menu and orders for the both of you, while you watch him over your glass of water.

The waitress walks away and he turns back to you. You cock your head, studying him across from you until you see his ears turn red and he laughs nervously.

“What?”

“Nothing.” You shake your head, taking a sip of your water. “I just never thought I’d see you again.” Jin ducks his head, bringing his napkin into his lap to fiddle with it. “I had hopes.”

“You did?”

He did?

He thought of you?

He thinks about you?

What?

“I... I just didn’t know if you’d want to see me.” He meets your gaze across the table and instead of feeling flattered, you feel yourself getting enraged.

“Well maybe if you would have reached out I would have responded,” you snap, putting down your glass a little harder than you intended.

“I didn’t know if you wanted me to reach out - you’re the one who cut things off.” He folds his arms over his chest. “It seemed like a pretty clear ‘No Jin I don’t like you bye bye now we’re done’ to me.”

You glower at him over the table. “I do not speak like that.”

He rolls his eyes. “Whatever.”

You sit in heavy silence until the waitress comes over carrying your plates of food.

You both begin to eat in silence, picking at your food, not looking at each other until finally, you had had enough.

You sigh, tossing down one of your fries. “Did we really come here just to bicker?”

Jin looks up at you, surprise flickering in his eyes before he ducks his head, twirling his pasta with a fork.

“...I came here because I missed you,” he whispers.

“You... missed me?” You answer, and your voice comes out more breathless than you would have liked.

He shrugs, picking at the chicken in his dish. “A bit.”

You pick up one of your fries and toss it at his head, smiling when it bounces where you aimed.

“A little bit or a lotta bit? Cuz their’s a difference.”

He glares at you, shaking his head to make sure the food is gone. “A lotta bit.”

You bite your lip, ducking your head before looking back up at him shyly. “I missed you too.”

Jin gives you the first real smile since you sat down, a weight seeming to be lifted off his shoulders. “I’m glad.”

You smile shyly at each other before you remember the reason you came together in the first place. To talk.

“So, Jin.” You pick up your sandwich and take a bite. “I don’t think we know a whole lot about each other.”

“I’d counter, I think we know a great deal about each other,” he smirks, sending you a wink over the table.

You feel a blush rising to your cheeks and you send him a glare. “I didn’t mean physically, dumbass.” You gesture between yourselves. “I meant like, who you are and who I am - outside of the careers.”

He nods. “If it helps, I read your bibliography at the back of your book.”

You snort. “That doesn’t count.”

“So are you telling me that you did not grow up in Massachusetts and spend your free time painting? That’s lying to the people Y/n. I feel betrayed.” He fake gasps, placing a hand over his heart.

“You know what I meant!” You laugh, tossing another fry at him. “I meant like.. What even is your real name? Like your full name? I don’t even know that.”

“It’s Seokjin. Kim Seokjin..” He smiles at you over the table. “But my friends call me Jin. My friends and... well, my clients.”

“Y/n Y/L/N. But my friends call me Y/n.” You hold out your hand. “Nice to meet you.”

He smiles, taking your hand in his. “You too.”

You don’t know how long you both sat their and talked. Long enough to see couples come, sit, eat, and go multiple times before you finally leaned back in your chair, shaking your head.

“God,” you laugh nervously, pushing a hand through your hair. “We really don’t know anything about each other, do we?” “I guess we don’t,” Jin answers softly, pushing his finger into the ring of water left on the table from his glass, smearing it in a squiggly line towards the window.

“So what do we do now?” you whisper, looking up at him across the table. “Do we move on?” “Or do we start over?” Jin looks up at you, his eyes hopeful. “Please, y/n,” he reaches out and cups his hand over your own. “I don’t want to be done with you yet.”

All the air seems to have been knocked out of your lungs as you stare back at him.

“Please,” he whispers once more before sliding his hand off of yours. “I think we both have feelings for each other, though I have no idea how we managed to hold onto them in the chaos that has been our relationship so far.”

He laughs shortly, causing you to chuckle with him as you both remember the chaos of how this all started and how you came to be in this moment.

“But all I know, is that I want to work on this with you. I want this,” he gestures between you both frantically, the words spilling out of his mouth as if he can’t say them fast enough, as if he’s afraid you’ll leave before he can. “I want us. And I know nothing makes sense right now, and we both have crazy lives and I don’t know how literally anything is going to work, god I don’t know how my job is going to work with this but,” he takes a deep breath and reaches out to take both of your hands. “But, I want to try. With you. Y/n Y/L/N... would you be willing to try with me?”

You don’t have the words to speak as you stand up from the table, sliding your hands out from under his own.

He makes a move to stand, but you place your hands on his shoulders, watching as they move automatically towards his neck before lowering your forehead to his.

“Kim Seokjin,” you whisper, stroking his cheekbones with your thumbs as you rest your eyes for a second before taking a leap of faith. “I want to try with you.”

When you kiss him, it’s different this time. Softer, gentler, full of promise - and yet still so warm you can feel it traveling down your body to the tips of your toes.

When you pull back, he comes in for one more, and you let him. It feels too good not to.

When you pull away from each other the second time, you're both a little breathless, both a little flushed.

“We should probably go,” Jin whispers and you nod, pulling back from him. He stands and immediately takes your hand, making sure his phone and wallet are in his pockets before he tugs your towards the door.

He walks you to your car, and before you can get in he gently tugs at your hips, turning you towards him again.

“One last kiss?” He asks, and you can’t say no to the way his eyes are taking you in, looking at you like you’re the most beautiful exotic bird to have randomly flown into his yard.

“Sure,” you smile, reaching up and tugging at the hair at the back of his neck and standing on your tiptoes as you bring your lips to his.

He moans in the back of his throat as you kiss him harder and a thrill shoots down your spine, pooling in a place where you suddenly need him more than ever.

“Jin,” you moan into his mouth as he slips his tongue against yours. “Jin.”

He pulls away, breathing heavily. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, panting for breath. “But what was that? I was trying to be sweet and gentle and then you go and pull my hair? Geesh, woman.” He fake glares down at you and can’t help but smile, feeling lighter than you have in months as you tug at his shirt, wanting more.

“I’m sorry, you were just too irresistible.”

“I thought we were taking this slow,” he murmurs, wrapping his arms loosely around your waist but not making any move to let you go.

You bite your lip, your eyes flicking from his down to his lips, “Is it bad... that I want you?” You whisper, flicking your eyes back up to his. “Even though we just made up.”

His tongue darts out to wet his lips and he looks up, taking a deep breath before meeting your gaze again. “It’s not bad, not if I want you too.”

You smile in relief as he presses the softest kiss to your cheek. “And besides,” he whispers huskily into your ear, “we can still go slow.”

You don’t know how, but somehow you managed to get to the nearest hotel, and Jin’s hand does not leave yours the entire ride there.

This time, when you get out your wallet to pay for the room, he stops your hand and pulls out his own.

This is such a stark difference from how this usually goes. You think, fidgeting with the strap of your purse while you watch him get the key.

He holds it up in triumph and waves it around a little and you smile.

But it’s a new start, right?

The ride up in the elevator is filled with a weird tension - both of you standing near each other but not touching, sneaking glances at each other in the reflective walls before blushing and looking away.

When you find your room, his hands are on your hips, gently pushing you inside while brushing his nose against your neck making you giggle.

You spin around, looping your arms over his neck and kiss him, laughing when you break away. “Someone’s eager.”

“From the way you kept staring at me in the elevator, I'm not the only one,” he teases, kicking the door closed with his foot as he leans forward to kiss you again.

The laughter and giggling only escalates as he begins kissing your neck, trailing his hands up your sides.

“Jin stop - that tickles,” you giggle, squirming as he digs his fingers into your ribcage harder, making you squeal.

“No way - I’ve learned a new thing! You’re ticklish here,” he grins pulling away form your neck to peck your lips. “I bet it’d be more ticklish if I-” he slips his hand up the inside of your shirt, but you stop his hand, pressing his palm against your skin and looking directly into his eyes.

“If thats your way of getting a hand up a girls shirt, you’ve clearly lost your touch,” you smirk, guiding his hand over your breast.

His breath hitches when you let to to pull your shirt over your head, giving him a better view.

His eyes drink you in, his fingers trailing over your body lightly as he steps closer, tracing the curve of your breasts, the dip of your waist.

“God, you’re beautiful.” He breathes.

“It’s nothing you haven't seen before,” you answer, trying to fold your arms over your chest and shield yourself from his intense gaze.

He shakes his head, moving your arms away. “Takes my breath away, every time.”

“Jin-”

“I’m not lying.” His eyes shoot up sharply to yours. “You’re the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.”

You can’t help but kiss him them, putting all your pent up feelings into the kiss, groaning when he returns it with just as much intensity.

You’re topless, but you want him to be too. You’re anxious to get your hands on him, to feel the heat radiating off his chest and his skin against yours again.

Hesitantly, you begin to pop the buttons on his shirt, and his mouth leaves yours so he can watch your hands.

“Jagi,” he groans, the brush of your fingers against his chest making his heart jump.

Slowly, you lean forward and press your lips to his collar bone, feeling his breath hitch as you do.

He’s craving this just as much as you are.

You push his shirt off his shoulders, running your hands down his arms when he kisses you again, this time trailing his mouth down your neck as he gathers you in his arms and backs you up towards the bed.

He presses open mouthed kisses down your stomach, stopping every once in a while to murmur a praise against your skin.

“God, your skin feels like the softest silk.” He whimpers, sliding his hands down your body to undo the button of your jeans and pull them off your legs so he can grip your thighs. “So soft.”

You whine as he drops to his knees at the end of the bed, trailing kisses on your inner thighs.

“Jin, you don’t have to-”

“Are you kidding me?” He looks up at you and presses a kiss to the side of your knee. “I’ve been thinking about this for months.”

You swallow hard, getting a grip on the sheets as you nod at him to continue. “Me too.”

The first press of his tongue against your folds has you bucking your hips and reaching down for his hair.

“God - Jin,” you pant, sliding your fingers into his locks and gasping for breath.

He groans, rubbing at your entrance with two fingers while sucking gently at your clit. “You taste just as sweet as I remember - better.”

You whimper as he sets a slow pace, taking his time with your body, making sure you feel the full extent of every flick of his tongue and pump of his finger.

“You’re trembling,” Jin whispers, pulling his tongue away from your clit to blow air against your heat, pumping his fingers in and out with a delicious curl.

“I-I need-” you pant, trying to push his head back down but he pulls your hand from his head and puts your palm against his mouth, kissing it.

“I know gorgeous, but I want your first of tonight to be on me.”

He groans getting up from his knees as he crawls back over your body, leaving chaste kisses across your skin as he makes his way back to your mouth.

You cling to him desperately, wrapping your legs around his waist and grinding yourself against him.

Jin gasps at the feel of you so needy and desperate for him and quickly unbuckles his pants, pushing them down enough so he can slide his hard member against you.

He feels so good, hard and warm that you reach down, wanting to guide him inside you.

“Wait - condom,” Jin gasps, beginning to pull away from you to find one but you yank him back. “No.”

He looks at you startled. “No?”

You can feel the heat creeping down your neck, but you’re too far gone to care. “Want you. Bare.”

He groans, dropping his forehead to yours. “Are you sure?”

You guide him back between your folds and line him up at your entrance. “Need to feel you.”

He nods, biting his lip as he presses himself into you slowly, watching your face for any sign of discomfort.

It’s sinful how good he feels, stretching you like this, and god you missed this.

You whimper, wrapping your arms around his neck and arching your back as he bottoms out, needing him as close as he can be.

“I missed you,” you whisper against his neck and he begins to move, slowly dragging himself in and out of your body.

“You have no idea how much I missed you too,” he whispers back, rocking himself back and forth until you’re moving together to reach a common goal.

You come first, his body working yours so perfectly your toes curl when you cry out his name in a rush of pleasure.

“God, baby, I missed that. Felt so good. Fuck, I’m sorry I can’t hold out any longer fuck I-” he’s blabbering, his pace increasing as he watches your body fall to pieces and is so desperate to fall with you.

“Come for me, Jin - it’s okay.”

“Where should I - where do you want? I -”

“Inside me,” You press your mouth on his, clenching around him as his hips stutter and he cries out, his pleasure mixing with yours.

You stay like that for a few minutes, a mess of limbs tangled on the sheets, pressing each other together, neither of you wanting to move.

Eventually, the heat of him gets too much and you push him off, moving yourself to cuddle against his chest.

He smiles, wrapping his arm around you and pressing a kiss to your forehead, snuggling you closer.

“Jin-”

“Jagi-”

You both laugh when you speak at the same time, and Jin gives you a little squeeze.

“You first.”

“No, it’s okay. What did you want to say?” You ask, tracing your fingers over his chest.

“I’m just... happy. I guess.” He says, twirling a strand of his hair between his fingers.

“You guess? Or you know?” You quirk an eyebrow at him and he smiles, coming in for a kiss.

“Depends, how do you feel?”

You think about it for a moment. “Relieved.”

He smiles hugely, throwing his head back to laugh in relief. “Then,” He says, pulling you to straddle his lap, cupping your face with his hands. “I know.”

You smile into his kiss, biting your lip when he pulls away. “I’m glad.”

You stare at each other warmly, happy to be together when you speak again. “What do we do now?” You whisper, giggling as his hands find your ticklish spots again.

“Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m always up for a round two.” He smirks, flipping you over so you’re underneath him again.

“I challenge you to at least three,” you counter, smiling up at him as his hand begins to drift down your body and his mouth reattaches to yours. “Game on.”

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myheroacademiashorts · 4 years

Text

Falling ~

Prompt: [here]

Pairing: Todoroki x Reader

Summary: You were trying to walk your dog, only to find yourself stuck in a pile of leaves minutes later in embarrassment. And the one person you’d never expect to see - as well as the one person you wished would never see you so messy - was standing over you with his cell phone out.

Words: 2,666 (hail satan.... jk.... unless?)

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God, you loved autumn.

With a silly grin on your lips, you bounced along the sidewalk in excitement, your dog Cheddar bumping alongside you. The sun was out, but a delicious chill was tangled with it and swam through the air like a lone fish in a river. Beside you, the golden-colored pup had his tongue lolling out from his mouth, panting as his bright eyes darted to each and every thing you two passed. He was equally excited, but for an entirely different reason than you; not that you knew it. Yet, at least.

The park entered your gaze as you continued forward, your face lighting up. Cheddar must’ve seen it at the same time as you, and with a loud whine he began to pull forward, tugging at his leash. You knew what he wanted; to bounce around the entire park like a sugar-hyped child, rolling in dirt and pouncing on the pile of leaves off to your left that someone had probably just put together. “Calm down!” You laughed, bending down to rub one hand on his soft head. “The park isn’t going anywhere anytime soon, dummy.”

“(L/N)?”

A deep voice pulled you from your thoughts, and with a surprised yelp you straightened up. Immediately you found your attention drawn to a pair of all-too-familiar eyes; one turquoise and one grey, to be exact. Those eyes always reminded you of an approaching storm for some reason; the sky bright and blue before fading to something colder.

Your classmate Todoroki stared at you, tilting his head to the side with puzzlement in his gaze despite his blank expression. “This is a surprise.” His voice was a rumble against your silence. “Do you live around here as well?” You couldn’t remember the last time you had seen Todoroki in such normal clothing; a black turtleneck, blue jeans, and a pair of dark loafers. His bicolored hair swayed slightly with the wind, and for a moment he looked like a perfect sweater model. Was it legal to look this good? You jokingly made a note to yourself to find out.

“Todoroki! Yeah, I live a couple of blocks down the street. What are you doing here?” You weren’t very close to your aloof classmate - him not being one to speak to others unless prompted to, and you being your extra-extroverted self - yet you always thought about trying to become friends with him. You were friends with nearly everyone in your class. Hell, you’d even became friends with Bakugou, for Christ’s sake, and he was as tough as nails compared to everyone else around him.

“I do.” He said shortly, before dropping his attention to the furball beside you. Almost instantly confusion filled his eyes and his eyebrows furrowed as he stared at your dog Cheddar, as if trying to figure out what he was doing there. He stayed stiff as a board as the golden dog approached him, nose on his loafers. “I didn’t realize that you had a pet, (L/N).” He continued to stare at Cheddar, his free hand staying at his side while his other gripped a plastic shopping bag.

“Yeah, I adopted him a few months ago. His name is Cheddar.” You grinned as you watched the said dog lift his face higher, until his tongue had begun to lap at Todoroki’s free hand. A first he tensed at the feeling, but quickly relaxed as he looked down. For the first time in your life, you saw his eyes filled with a type of wonder that you couldn’t recognize. As if it were his first time interacting with a dog in his lifetime.

“May I?”

“Of course!”

Immediately after your reply, Todoroki bent forward and hesitantly hovered his free hand over Cheddar’s head. The dog replied by attacked the boy’s hand with slobber. After another moment, he dropped his palm gently on the dog’s head and… let it sit there. You laughed as you watched Cheddar nudge his head into Todoroki’s hand, causing the boy to frown slightly. “He wants you to pet him. Like this.”

You didn’t give your actions a second thought as you lay your hand over his, noticing the way he tensed but missing the faint blush that coated his pale cheeks as he stared down at you. Like teaching a child, you repeatedly forced Todoroki’s hand back and forth on your dog’s head, earning a happy grumble from the chest of Cheddar. “If you just leave your hand there, he won’t react. But petting him like this is a good way to start. Cheddar especially likes it if you comb his fur with your nails, from here to here.” You copied the motion as you spoke, starting from the top of the dog’s head before trailing it down his neck. “Or if you scratch him behind the ear. Honestly, he’d probably abandon me for you if you did that.” You giggled slightly at your own joke. You released Todoroki’s hand, much to your dismay, and stepped away from him as he followed your instructions, his long fingers rubbing behind Cheddar’s ears. His tail wagged eagerly at the newfound attention as he leaned into the boy’s touch, and for a moment you felt incredible stupid for feeling jealous over a dog getting pet.

“He’s very gentle.”

“Yeah, he’s a sweetheart. Especially if there’s petting or food involved.”

Todoroki nodded, finally retracting his hand and straightening up once more. When the attention had shifted away from him, Cheddar began to beg for your hand once more, his nose against your pant leg and dampening the spot on it with a few licks. “Have you had a pet dog before?” You desperately didn’t want the conversation to end, and at this point you felt like you were grasping at straws.

Todoroki cast another look at the furball beside you, avoiding your bright eyes. “Unfortunately, no. My father was not a fan of anything he deemed ‘distracting’ for my training.” His face darkened for a moment when he brought up his father, causing a shiver to roll down your spine. Ah, Endeavor. You knew the pair didn’t have a strong relationship with one another, and most likely never would. Although he seemed to tolerate his father better than before, anyone could see the resentment he still held towards the fiery man. With good reason, of course.

“I’m sorry… Well, if you ever need a fill of pet-love, I have no problem lending Cheddar to you!” You gestured to your dog with another grin, and surprisingly earned a light and barely audible chuckle from the blank-faced boy in front of you. “I will keep that in mind.” He responded, his voice seemingly deeper than usual as he stared at you with level eyes. Another tingle went down your back, but it wasn’t cold like the last one; instead it was burning hot as you both looked at one another, a small smile gracing his features as you felt a blush rising.

And then, you were being dragged.

Still caught up in your daze, you didn’t even notice how slack your grip had become on Cheddar’s leash, who had been growing increasingly impatient with you. And right when he got the chance, he had darted, dragging you along with him as he bounded to the one think he had been excited about since the two of you had walked into the park; the large, towering pile of golden leaves that you had spotted when you first entered the park. You opened your mouth to scream anything, from ‘stop’ to ‘no’, but were quickly halted as Cheddar jumped up and slammed into the leaf pile… Unfortunately bringing you with him. You were lucky that the pile was big, landing face first in it and taking in a mouthful of leaves instead of broken teeth. You had lost Cheddar’s leash on impact, but that was the least of your worries; he was a faithful dog and would come when you called, but you always kept him on a leash because of his over-excitement for… well, everything.

You thrashed in the leaves for a minute before stopping, embarrassment coursing through your veins as you realized that Todoroki had most likely seen everything that had happened in just a few seconds. You groaned. Of course, one of the hottest - and coldest guys in class, literally - had seen you in such a low state. And you most likely had a million bits of dried leaves tangled in your (H/C) locks, just to add to the torture. As you were contemplating on how you’d get out of this situation as easily as possible, you heard the clearly audible sound of a phone’s camera clicking.

You twisted around, now on your back as you looked towards the sound with wide (E/C) eyes. Todoroki was a lot of things; polite, quiet, confident. But he wasn’t surprising, so seeing him standing over your with his phone angled at your face was quite a shock for you. “Shouto!” You had never used his first name before, but out of surprise you had yelped it out, causing the guilty boy to redden like a ripe tomato. It fell smoothly from your lips, and his heart beat erratically as he replayed your voice in his mind. He was at the edge of the collapsed leaf pile, eyes trained on your expression as he stared at you and your messy figure. You were right about one thing; you definitely had a lot of leaves in your hair. “Did you just take a picture of me?”

At this point, his face was on fire, practically steaming against the cool air around him. “Maybe.” He muttered, almost shyly as he ducked his head down, his hair covering his face from your view. With a groan, you pushed yourself upright onto your forearms. Your body felt sore, especially your back, and you winced slightly as you adjusted your position. Todoroki took notice of this.

“Are you okay? Here, let me help you up.”

He bent towards you, now, dropping one knee beside your leg to reach out to you better. His hand curled around yours, holding it for a moment. The warmth was welcomed against the damp coldness of the leaves, and you were grateful that he had reached for you using his left hand instead of his right. Maybe you could guilt the poor guy into letting you cuddle into his warm side…

No, actually, you’d rather have the picture deleted.

He heaved you up to your feet easily, and self-consciously you began to rake your fingers through your hair. Crinkled leaves followed, and you grimaced as you thought about the smaller pieces that were no doubt still on your head. You swung your attention to the boy beside you, holding out your hand. “Phone. Now.”

He clung it to his chest like a child afraid of his toy being taken away. “W-What? That is a bit personal, (L/N).” He tried, and you narrowed your eyes at him. You knew you were bing a bad owner by letting Cheddar frolic around as long as he had, but you didn’t want that picture circulating anywhere. Not that you thought that Todoroki would send it to anyone, but still. Just in case.

“I’m just gonna delete the picture, then you can have it back. Promise.”

“Let me just delete it for yo-”

As soon as he began to extend his hand to do as he said, you lunged at him, practically tackling him to the ground as your wrestled the phone from his loose grip. With Todoroki’s back against the damp grass and your legs planted on either side of his hips, you gripped his smartphone victoriously, not taking much notice to your position; or Todoroki’s embarrassed expression as you sat down on the top of his thighs, dangerously close to you-know-where. “Hah!” You said, clicking the phone’s button to watch its screen blink to life. “Now let’s get rid of this picture.”

“Wait! Let me just-”

You placed one hand on his chest to keep him down as your other unlocked his phone, hearing his grunt as he collapsed back into the grass, and you mentally cheering over the fact that Todoroki didn’t keep his phone passcode-locked. Right when you were about to make another retort in his direction, however, you froze. The phone had opened up to his messages, where a short conversation was taking place with another classmate of yours. Midoriya Izuku.

Todoroki: *Picture Sent*

Midoriya: Aww look at (Y/N)! She looks so flustered haha. Is this the part where you ask her out?

Todoroki: Yes, she is. I believe that it may be too early for that. But I’m still saving the picture.

Midoriya: ASK HER OUT, LOVER BOY. BEFORE IT’S TOO LATE

Todoroki hadn’t texted back after that, but a message had been started without being sent, stating “Maybe I will, who knows?” At this point, your face was just as bright at the boy’s underneath you - jeez, have you ever blushed so much in a day, before? - and you tighten your hold on his phone. You laughed nervously.

“So, uhh… You like me, Todoroki?”

You were still on top of him. Todoroki had his hands glued to his sides, eyes staring up at you with his mouth agape. The two of you stared at one another as your question hung in the air. Finally, he cleared his throat. “This isn’t exactly the way that I wished to admit it.” He said, voice quiet as he spoke. He sounded defeated. You climbed off of him, holding out a hand to help just as he had done for you mere moments before. Awkwardly he took it, lingering for a second before releasing your hand to wipe off the front of his clothes, which looked clean enough, avoiding your curious gaze. You trapped your hands together in front of you, nibbling on your bottom lip as you thought about what to do next.

“So… Are you still going to ask me out, or just stand there?”

Todoroki’s head snapped up to look at you in shock. “Pardon?”

“Sorry, did I stutter?”

“N-no!” He responded, and his cheeks reddened even more, if that were possible. “What I mean to say is…” He cleared his throat once more. “(L/N), would you… Accompany me to the movies tomorrow evening?”

“You’re asking me on a date, right?”

“... Yes.”

Man, it was almost too easy to tease the poor guy, and you grinned. “I would love to.”

With your reply, Todoroki immediately relaxed his tense shoulders and released a sigh, puffing white in front of his lips due to the frigid air. “Thank God.” You thought you heard him mutter under his breath, but swept the thought aside, not wanting to embarrass him any more than you had. He needed a break.

“Okay! Just text me all of the details later.”

“S-sure.”

There was still an awkward air between you two, but you hoped it would disappear before the movie. You waved a hand. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Todo! Until then, I’ve got a dog to hunt down.” You didn’t give him another chance to reply, instead darting off in the direction where you had seen the golden troublemaker last.

As you ran off with a quick goodbye wave, Todoroki instead placed a hand over his erratically beating heart, praying for it to return to normal as he opened up his phone once more, a small but warm smile gracing his lips as he began to think about your long-awaited date.

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keelywolfe · 4 years

Text

FIC: A Judicious Amount of Effort (SpicyHoneyMustard, lemon)

Summary: After a Judgement, Rus needs his lovers and protectors more than ever. Is there anything they won't do for him?

Tags: SpicyHoneyMustard, Fontcest, Fellcest, Sibling Incest, Threesome, Established Relationship, Possessive Behavior, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, LEMONY GOODNESS!!

Sequel to:

Showtime

Secret Garden

~~*~~

Read it on AO3

Read it here!

~~*~~

It was a simple truth that patience was a learned skill. Some were born with it, the same that they were born with their magical traits or the ability to recall a song only heard once. Red could be endlessly patient when circumstances called for it, outwardly placid and if there was anything roiling within him beneath the surface, none of it ever emerged in the light of day.

Patience did not come to Edge as easily. For him it was a learned behavior and joining the guard was a good training in the art of how to wait. It would never be innate to him, but these days Edge managed well enough.

Except on Judgment days.

In the Underground, the Judgement Hall in New Home had been elegant, golden and ethereal, worthy of an avatar of the Angel. Though he’d only seen it once Edge remembered it with perfect clarity, and no wonder; that was the day he took his vows, kneeling before the previous Judge and swearing his fealty to the Angel as his brother had done only a couple years before him. That was before Rus, before he and Red were Chosen, and there were times his dreams altered the memory, set him kneeling before Rus as he looked down at him with the terrible, empty sockets of Judge to deem whether he was worthy.

On the Surface, things were markedly different. For one, rather than a Judgement Hall, it was more of a corner office in the Embassy and while Edge, having never been inside, didn’t know anything about the décor, it hardly seemed elegant for a Judging to take place around the corner from the copy machine.

Outside was a sitting area with several comfortable chairs, large enough even for the Queen, and Edge wondered sourly what the rest of the Monster community would think if they knew that those awaiting the results of a Judgement sat around in a waiting room reminiscent of a Human dentist office.

This was where Edge was currently standing, moving restlessly from one end of the room to the other, his hard-won patience strained as he waited for Rus to reemerge.

Queen Toriel was flipping through a magazine and did not look up as she said, "He may well be a while, Edge, you can sit down."

It was difficult not to pull himself to attention at a mere word from the Queen, though her standards were far more lax than the Guards. Edge did incline his head to her and said politely, "Thank you, your majesty, but if it's all the same to you, I'd prefer to stand."

The Queen did look up from her magazine then. Her eyes were a deeper shade of red than his own eye lights and though she seemed ageless to most, it was the depths of her eyes that gave her away. "It is not all the same to me," she said mildly. "You hovering about is making me nervous. Now, make an old woman happy and sit. We both know it takes some time to act as Judge, Jury, and Executioner."

"He's not an executioner," Edge said shortly. Inwardly, he cringed at defying the Queen’s word, but he could not bear remaining silent. "He takes them to one HP. If that's enough for them to dust, then it's the weight of their sins that kill them, not him."

It was something he told Rus often after a Judgement, late at night in the darkness of their rooms when he woke screaming, clutching at him and Red, sobbing from the terrible memories haunting him that were not his own.

The corner of the Queen’s mouth quirked up and she nodded in acknowledgement, “You’re right, of course. I stand corrected.” She sighed heavily then and set the magazine aside, glossy paper slapping against the tabletop. “No matter how the Judgement ends, it’s difficult for him to manage after, isn’t it.”

It was not a question and Edge did not answer.

“When we were still Underground there would have been a score of Monsters in your position,” she said, sadly. "Tasked with protecting and caring for our Judge, giving him whatever he requires."

Edge stiffened, said nothing, but Toriel would not have been the leader that she was if not for her shrewdness. She chuckled a bit, retrieving her magazine and opening it to an article about easy dinner recipes as she told him, "Have no fear, I'm not considering anything that might change your arrangement and Rus certainly has no complaints. You were both Chosen and that’s the end of it. I daresay no Judge could ask for better Companions. You and your brother are very dedicated to him."

Edge only offered a curt nod. He had little interest in discussing his relationship with Rus with anyone, even or perhaps especially to the Queen.

When the previous Judge passed and Rus was Chosen, what remained of the guard were lined up for a Choosing of their own. They’d all known what the job entailed and while Edge never expected to be Chosen, he’d been ready to service the Judge as required.

He hadn’t been prepared for Rus. Couldn’t have guessed that he’d grow love him as deeply and desperately as he did, soundly rejected the idea of anyone other than himself and Red touching him. The Judge might belong to all Monsters, to the Angel and the Maker, to everyone, but Rus was theirs alone.

The door opening made them both look up as Rus stepped out. No, Edge realized, he was mistaken, it was the Judge who stood before them in incongruous mysticism next to the floral prints on the neutrally painted walls. Utterly emotionless, their voice held none of the vibrancy of Rus, the laughter that was always only a pun away. It was only the Judge who said in low monotone. "It Is Finished."

The Queen stood, but before she could speak, those empty sockets swung to Edge. If they chose, they could see into the very corners of his soul, send every sin he’d ever committed crawling up his spine, pushed him to the very edge of his sanity.

But their face only softened at the sight of him, moving over him without the weight of Judgement.

“Why are you staring at me?” Edge asked boldly. Some would say suicidally, teetering on the line of horrific disrespect.

If anything, that look only softened further, “Because We Love You.”

Then his sockets flickered, pale eye lights reforming to meet Edge's gaze. Only to immediately roll heavenward and Edge lunged forward to catch him as Rus silently folded to the ground.

The queen took a half-step forward with a sound of concern, reaching out.

"I have him," Edge said, hoisting Rus into his arms where he hung limply, his skull lolling against Edge’s shoulder.

“Take him back to his rooms,” Toriel said heavily, and ageless was not how anyone would describe her now. In this moment it seemed as if every one of her years was pressing down upon her. “I’ll handle the rest.”

Edge nodded, turning on his heel to carry Rus away. He was always so terribly light; his low HP was one of the marks of his status as Judge, as did the massive amounts of his available magic, a delicate contrast in power and frailness.

Now he felt almost weightless in Edge's arms, the only heaviness about him were the shadows beneath his sockets. The lone possible saving grace was the lack of dust on the hem of his robes. It could be the one he Judged was still alive, curled up on the floor as they wept beneath the weight of punishment, clinging to the shred of Mercy that allowed them a chance to do better.

The path to their quarters was a direct one with no access for any others. Edge followed it swiftly and the door swung open as he approached, his watchful brother waiting. The moment he walked through, it was closed again, locked and secured; the Judge was never more vulnerable than right after a Judgement.

Edge kept walking to their bedroom which also served as a saferoom. No one would be getting inside and even if they did, the Angel asked for no punishment for what Edge and Red might do in the name of the Judge.

Gently, Edge settled Rus on the bed while Red secured the last door, locks and spells settling into place as he asked, "how’s he doin’?"

"It was a bad one," Edge said gruffly. His unconsciousness was proof of that much. As carefully as he could, Edge began to strip away Rus’s robes. They were easy enough to open despite Rus’s constant complaints about getting tangled up in them. A few simple ties here and there that needed tugged and everything fell open to the bare bones beneath.

Rus shivered and Edge hastened to pull up the blankets, heavy layers of soft coziness, chosen for precisely this. Behind him, he could hear the clink of cups and water pouring, the clatter of the spoon as Red stirred in a healthy dollop of honey with the ease of long-time experience.

Rus’s sockets were fluttering as Red brought the cup over, pale eye lights pausing briefly on Edge, then searching out the one he couldn’t see as Rus tried to roll over, slurring out, “red?”

Steaming cup in hand, Red sat on the edge of the mattress, "right here, honey bear."

Rus grimaced a little, “don' like that one.”

“sorry, sweetheart,” Red smoothed a gentle hand down Rus’s skull, his cracked fingers a stark contrast to smooth, untouched bone. “i’ll hafta make a list of pet names for ya to pick through.”

“you only want to know the ones i hate so you can use them the most,” Rus accused. He almost sounded like his normal teasing self.

“you know me so well,” Red murmured, then louder. “come on, honey, sit up, you need to get somethin’ in you.”

Obediently, Rus did, sipping the tea. As he drank, the blanket slowly slipped down to pool at his pelvis, the tease of it made blatant as he asked, “what if i want something better in me?”

“oh, you are feeling better,” Red chuckled. The two of them moved closer, kneeling on either side of him as Red crooned out, “what do you need, baby?”

"make me feel good." Rus swallowed, a golden flush rising his cheek bones, but he still said, boldly, "both of you. i want both of you. inside me." The delightful mental picture of that made the unsatisfied desire still lingering in Edge’s soul from that afternoon flare hotly, eagerly.

“Whatever you say,” Edge murmured to him, low and throaty, and when the empty cup slipped from Rus’s limp hold, he caught it and set it aside.

Rus was still wobbly-weak, an easily maneuverable rag doll that Edge moved and coaxed into sitting on his lap, facing away from him with Rus straddling his femurs. Before he did anything else, Edge settled one hand to rest somewhat chastely on Rus’s iliac crests, away from the honeyed magic beginning to settle into his pelvis. With the other, he took hold of Rus’s chin, turning his head to take a sweetly charged kiss, exploring the plush magic of his mouth with a gentle tongue.

Their moans were muffled, Rus’s sudden cry caught against Edge’s teeth. Whatever his brother was doing to make the bedsprings creak and Rus squirm must be particularly effective.

An odd number of hands scrabbled for Edge’s fly in unsteady coordination as they loosened his belt, lowered his zipper. The hand that circled his cock trembled, cool, slim fingers drawing him out, guiding him to where Rus is already wet and waiting, his entrance clenching emptily as Edge nudged his way inside.

Tight, wet heat surrounded him and Edge fought for control, resisting the urge to pull Rus fiercely down on his cock, to force his hips to move, riding him relentlessly until Rus cried out, begging and pleading for more as the garbled mess of his words dissolved into incoherent cries. He’d asked for both of them and Edge would give him what he asked for, whatever Rus asked of them.

Halfway inside, Edge paused, licking his teeth and tasting his own sweat as Rus tightened briefly around him, as if his pussy was asking for more without consulting Rus about it. Instead of obliging, Edge reached between Rus’s legs to trace where they were joined. Slickness was trickling down and Edge wetted his fingers, carefully pressing one alongside his cock. The increasing tightness made him groan aloud and even though he knew very intimately otherwise, for a moment it seemed as though even his slender finger won’t fit, much less another cock. He traced the slippery lips coaxingly, persuading them to relax enough for him to push in.

In his lap, Rus sighed and squirmed, his pussy tightening and loosening infinitesimally as Edge inched his finger inside.

Only for his brother to interrupt. His varied skills at patience didn’t tend to extend to Rus and he interjected lazily, “let me, bro.”

Another finger joined his own with far less care, pushing almost roughly inside and Rus cried out, hands scrambling to clutch at Edge’s knees and Edge would have glared at Red for it if he wasn’t abruptly struggling for his own control, trying desperately not to come as Rus panted and whimpered, his pelvis moving helplessly between Edge’s cock and their moving fingers.

It was a difficult stretch, working up a bit more space inside the achingly tight passage. Honey-gold ectoflesh slowly yielding until both their fingers glided with ease.

“think that’s enough, sweetheart.” Red was panting heavily, and Edge wasn’t sure if he truly thought Rus was opened enough to take them both or if he simply couldn’t wait any longer, but Edge didn’t ask, his own limit fast approaching. He pulled out his finger with a slick, obscene sound as Red arranged himself, his bare legs settling overtop of Edge’s as he lined up and began to push in.

The sudden increase of pressure around him made Edge grit his teeth, focusing on holding Rus upright as he whimpered. Rus spread his femurs wider as if he could make more space inside himself that way while Red struggled to force his shaft inside.

There was a round of gasps as the head of his cock pried its way in, the rest of the shaft following abruptly as Red thrust in deeply, then stilled. The three of them sat together, Edge and Red petting Rus’s sweat-slick bones, struggling out soothing words as Rus trembled between them, his face screwed up in a twisted rictus of pain and pleasure. It was difficult to think with the incredible tightness squeezing his cock, the first warnings of orgasm tingling at the base of is spine, and yet, Edge tried, focusing on anything else, on the scraping pressure of his brother’s legs over his own, the prickle of sweat trailing like sins down his spine, fuck, he’d be willing to think of Toriel and her endless teasing of Rus if it helped him keep control.

His patience was well-learned, but it was straining at the end of its leash, even as the pressure surrounding him slowly eased.

“i think…i think i’m okay,” Rus finally whispered. He squirmed a bit, testing, then with almost desperate deliberateness, his pelvis rocking between them as he groaned out, “oh! oh, fuck, yes, please!”

Edge’s position was a difficult one, with Rus and Red’s weight both pinning them down. He was forced to depend on his brother moving, drawing slowly out then back in, finding a rhythm that left Rus quickly trembling on the crest of orgasm, frantic cries spilling into the air around them.

Edge was no better off. The friction of his brother's cock moving against his own was exquisite, unbearable, dragging along the length of his shaft, ridged heads briefly rubbing even as Red thrust back into Rus’s wet, clenching heat. The raggedness of his breathing was loud inside his skull and Edge could only hold on to them both, dimly unaware of whose bones he was gripping painfully as Rus’s cunt went tight around him, rippling and throbbing excruciatingly as he peaked.

He wasn’t going to last, Edge realized abruptly, it was too much, his control was slippery and lost, and he could only groan plaintively, breath hissing between his teeth as he screwed his sockets closed and came into the gloriously hot, wet grip of Rus’s pussy. Bones clattered as he was wracked with a shock of purest bliss, trying to thrust up, to get even deeper despite the weight pinning him.

“oh, fuck,” Red gasped out and even caught up as he was in overwhelming sensation, Edge dimly understood. The heat of his come filling Rus’s pussy was another layer of sensation, leaving him drenched and loosened as Edge’s shaft softened inside him even as Red moved brutally faster.

Barely, he had enough coherence left to fumble a hand between Rus’s spread femurs, feeling down between his legs for the swollen nub of his clit to circle with his thumb. Rus quivered in his arms and he felt back further, careless fingers exploring where Red was still frantically thrusting. A mischievous urge struck him, and Edge circled the base of the shaft with his thumb and forefinger, gripping hard. Immediately, his brother cursed explosively, and Edge felt it both from the inside and out as Red pushed in deeply and held, the blossoming heat of his come spurting thickly against Edge’s shaft making him hiss.

Between them, Rus was sobbing, pleading as he struggled to reach another crest. Red reached for his clit even as Edge guiltily redoubled his efforts, their slippery fingers moving in tandem, exhausted and knowing. It was enough. Rus’s fingers dug into Edge’s femurs painfully, scraping bone even through trousers as his pussy throbbed, tightening almost painfully around overstimulated ectoflesh as he tipped over in a last orgasm.

He slumped almost immediately, held up only by Edge and Red’s arms, barely sighing as they both carefully withdrew and settled him to lay back on the sheets. There were soft cloths on the side table and a bowl of water set into a warmer. Between them, they cleaned the mess from Rus’s bones, tenderly wiping away sweat and the kaleidoscope spatter of their mingled fluids.

Edge thought he was already asleep, any lingering sign of the Judge clinging to him fucked away, and it was only when Rus spoke that he realized otherwise, his voice small and uncertain.

“if i asked you two to kiss, would you?”

The question made Edge still, setting the damp cloth aside as he looked into Rus’s blushing face. His sockets were scrunched deliberately closed, refusing to open even as Edge gently stroked his brow and cheek bones.

He looked at his brother instead, sitting on Rus’s other side. His expression was cool and unreadable, offering him nothing.

“Is that what you want?” Edge asked neutrally. He would, if Rus wished it. He had no particular objection to it; they’d known from the start what this involved. The awkwardness surrounding it had long since faded and truth be told, he loved to watch Red with Rus as he pleasured him with tongue and cock, and knew the sentiment was one Red returned. Sharing Rus was a unique delight, in every form of the word. But while touching each other was perfectly acceptable, neither was it something they usually sought without Rus between them.

“no,” Rus said hurriedly, though it was still too small, too soft. “i only wondered—"

“honey love,” Red interrupted, “i love my bro, but it ain’t the same way as you. i wanna see him fucking you, don’t really want that so much for myself.” Confirming Red felt as he did. Then he surprised Edge by saying. “but i think we can manage a kiss if you want that for your spank bank.”

Rus swallowed audibly, his sockets creeping open. He was obviously wavering between his hopeful wants and his fears that he was asking for something that they didn’t truly want to give. They’d given vows to provide him with whatever he wished, to meet all of his desires, and that was exactly what Rus did not want from them. That truth was only one of many that left Edge helpless against loving him.

He threaded his fingers through Rus’s, bringing their entwined hands up to his mouth to gently kiss his knuckles reassuringly, trying without words to tell him that this wasn’t too much to ask.

Rus still wavered, blinking too hard and too often, before finally giving in, whispering out, “please?”

Anything for you, Edge did not say. He turned to his brother, who was kneeling bare bones on Rus’s other side, his compact frame deliberately relaxed and revealing nothing of the coiled strength held within it. His razor-toothed mouth was quirked in a knowing smile, sockets hooded, and he didn’t move a single inch, forcing Edge to lean in and duck his head to kiss him.

Navigating both their sharp teeth was something of a challenge, but one easily managed, tongues gliding cautiously against each other. His brother tasted of Rus, cloyingly sweet, and beneath it, the earthier spice of his own magic surfaced like a taunt. Almost, Edge wanted to chase that taste, to delve into his brother’s mouth and find more, untainted by Rus’s sweetness.

He resisted the urge. This was for Rus, their Rus, he was watching, and Edge only lingered briefly, boldly sweeping his tongue over Red’s to steal a last discreet taste before drawing away. Their eye lights met in a brief glance before hurrying back to Rus.

Edge cleared his throat, “Was that what you wanted?”

“yeah,” Rus breathed, staring with greedily wide sockets. He blinked, sheepishness flitting across his face, “and if i wasn’t so tired, i’d ask for a kiss of my own.”

Red chuckled and leaned in, brushing his mouth over Rus’s and lingering when his teeth parted. Edge did not wonder if his brother tasted of him, only watched until they reluctantly parted, Red murmuring, “take a nap, butter bear, and when ya wake up, we’ll kiss ya wherever ya want.”

“what does butter bear even mean?” Rus mumbled, but the words were split by an enormous yawn. He reached out for them, hands limply hopeful and they both settled on either side of him, arms settling in a loose tangle as they held him close.

Soon, he slept, his breathing slow and even. Edge lay next to him, awake, and knew his brother was as well, curled up against Rus’s other side. They’d sleep later, when Rus was rested and less vulnerable. He could only hope that there would be no nightmares this time, a tenuous wish for peaceful sleep for his love.

But as he lay there in the dark, Edge couldn’t help wondering what other things Rus might like to see, if he were bold enough to ask.

-fin

Read the next chapter

#fontcest #keelywolfe #underfell papyrus #underfell sans #underswap papyrus #underswap #underfell #lemony goodness #papcest #spicyhoney #honeymustard #spicyhoneymustard #bodyguard au

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artificialqueens · 4 years

Text

we might be hollow (but we're brave) [jan x jackie] - pinkgrapefruit

A/N - hey! incase you hadn’t noticed i’m in love with this ship and I had these lyrics and timestamps in my google docs for months with branjie but it just wasn’t fully fitting. thanks to Alex for betaing and i hope you enjoy it! let me know what you think <3

we might be hollow (but we’re brave)

We’re never done with killing time

Can I kill it with you?

‘Til the veins run red and blue

1 7 0 7 - 0 3 - 1 5 - 2 0 0 9

The car hums, low and hoarse as Jackie waits in the school lot. She’d offhandedly promised to pick up her english partner and all of a sudden she’s regretting it, twenty minutes late and low on fuel. She switches it off, flicking the key, and then back on again, hoping not to burn out the fragile engine.

She runs out of the school sweaty and flustered, gym bag slung haphazardly over her shoulder and for a second Jackie is fixated on the way Jan’s baby hairs have plastered themselves across her forehead. The smaller girl slings her bag through the open back window, watching with a smirk as Jackie cringes - sending a warm smile in gratitude.

They play the music loud and keep the air con on low, just cool enough to dry Jan’s hair without the native New Jerseyan complaining about how it’s warmer in the arctic. Jackie’s from Canada, she doesn’t really care.

Jan gives vague directions to her home as and when she sees fit, often directing Jackie to take turns she didn’t even know existed when they’re already almost past them. It drives the brunette mad as she abuses the car’s delicate steering, all to navigate the New Jersey suburbs.

What she does notice is they end up barely two streets over from her own house. A standard three bed, two bath, decent garden house that looks just as identical as every other one in the neighbourhood.

It’s painted blue. Jackie thinks it fits.

They spend the early evening reading excerpts of Romeo and Juliet to each other on Jan’s porch. The blonde reads on the porch chair as it swings aimlessly in the warm early spring breeze. She’s still in her cheer uniform and Jackie doesn’t have a chance to ask how she manages both cheer and soccer. Jackie barely manages hockey.

They eat homemade ice cream sundaes and watch the sunset over the eerie glow of the street lamps until Jan complains she can’t see the pages anymore and Jackie has long since stopped making notes on prose and characters.

They don’t talk about school tomorrow because they won’t see each other. Jan asks if she will pick her up. Jackie says yes.

We come around here all the time

Got a lot to not do, let me kill it with you

0 7 3 2 - 0 4 - 0 2 - 2 0 0 9

Jackie gets a text at half past seven telling her quite emphatically that Jan is running late. There is no question posed that Jackie can discern on the Nokia n95 screen - the glare from the early morning screen compromising her vision anyway - but she grabs her rucksack and the keys to the car and swings round the corner anyway.

She rationalises it by telling herself that it’s on the way to school anyway. It is.

She pulls up and Jan is sat on the porch steps in a pastel pink denim miniskirt and a glittery letterman jacket. She skips to the car and slides onto the front seat with a telltale squeak of bare legs on leather, throwing her bag onto the backseat in a way that still makes Jackie cringe even after two weeks. She smells of lemongrass and vanilla.

The blonde giggles and Jackie catches her mouth curving up in the reverse mirror, so she lets Jan pick the music and just focuses on the gear stick and anything else in her control.

She watches as the blonde sways to Fifteen by Taylor Swift, belting out the lyrics like she can feel them in her soul. They’re sophomores but they were freshmen last year and to be honest, from what she knows of Jan, she wouldn’t be surprised if that was her life.

They pull into the school parking lot to the sounds of Fearless and even Jackie cracks a smile at the way Jan is beaming. They have five minutes before they need to be in school and Jackie averts her eyes as Jan twists awkwardly to grab her bag from where it ended up on the floor, skirt riding up so the brunette can see the plum lace of her panties. She gulps and pulls out her well worn copy of Little Women instead. Not watching as Jan quickly reviews her AP Biology textbook.

“Thanks Jackie! You’re the best,” Jan calls as she slams the rickety car door on the third attempt.

“Anytime Jan.” And Jackie finds she means it.

You pick me up and take me home again

Head out the window again

We’re hollow like the bottles that we drain

0 1 2 5 - 0 7 - 1 7 - 2 0 0 9

Jackie’s phone vibrates under her pillow at one in the morning on a friday. They’ve been on summer break for a month and Jackie hasn’t really done much but she’ll admit she’s missed Jan. Until she woke her up that is.

She answers it with a defeated sign, tugging on her oversized Van Halen t-shirt until it feels decent even though no one is going to look into her tiny bedroom. The light filters through the window in a way that makes it feel like she’s in a weird horror film and she remembers why this is called the witching hour.

“Come over Jack, I’m bored,” comes the whine from down the phone and Jackie has to stifle a laugh even though she knows how much trouble she could get in for this. She sighs. She can’t really argue - doesn’t want to. She’s always been called boring. She doesn’t want to be anymore.

“I’m coming Jan, gimme five.”

She tugs on an oversized jacket and pulls a pair of gym shorts under her shirt, grabbing the running trainers from the bottom of her closet and spritzing a couple of squirts of sandalwood and shea from her almost empty perfume bottle. When she’s pretty sure she looks okay, she pushes up her window and thanks the gods she’s over the porch. It’s well structured and surprisingly easy to climb both up and down (her brother proved it to her last week) and she slides the window shut behind her as she shimmies down stained wood into the crisp summer night.

It’s not cold and the summer moon means it’s not dark either so she manages the walk quite calmly, feeling a freedom she sometimes forgets she has.

Jan’s sat on her porch steps in a pair of grey joggers and a black sports bra, draped in a tartan blanket and with what is unmistakably a bottle of wine gripped between her thighs.

They don’t actually talk for a while, just pass the bottle between themselves taking swigs of it like it’s water until Jan is giggling at a sparrow - the moon making her blonde hair glow in a way Jackie deems completely unfair. She’s ethereal, godlike in this light and Jan wants to tuck some of the escaped strands back behind her ear so she can watch the shadow in the curve of her upper lip.

She wants them to talk about boys, or talk about girls - to delve into who they are because surely that’s how you should spend wine time at two a.m but the wine is all gone and Jan’s cheek is soft on Jackie’s padded shoulder and somehow their fingers intertwine.

She starts humming something under her breath, something old - a song her dad used to sing her to help her sleep and Jan tugs at her hand to make her sing it louder until Jackie is serenading the sleepy neighbourhood with Mama Cass.

She shakes Jan awake just after four as the sun rises down the wide street. Their knees are stiff but Jan stands up, tugging Jackie by the hands into a hug. She’s not sure what it’s for but it’s welcomed and when Jackie clambers back through her window she can smell vanilla.

You drape your wrists over the steering wheel

Pulses can drive from here

We might be hollow, but we’re brave

0 5 0 2 - 0 1 - 0 1 -2 0 1 0

She’s clad in a hoodie and leggings when she pulls up to the big house. The party she was at finished hours ago but she’s told Jan to text her if she needed her and apparently she needs her so she’d put the heating on full blast and grabbed a blanket out of the trunk to wrap the smaller girl in when she came out.

She watches as she walks carefully out of the house, feet bare and stiletto heels in her hands. Jan slides into the front seat quietly. She carefully drops the heels into the foot-well and puts an awful lot of effort into fastening her seat-belt just right until she looks up at Jackie and something snaps.

Her eyes are red and raw and her lipstick is smudged across her chin and she looks so tired Jackie wants to bundle her up, hold her close and never let her go. But she doesn’t.

She places one hand in her lap and drives calmly to an empty house down the road, pulling into the drive and turning the engine off.

Jan is gripping her hand like a lifeline, clammy fingers twisted around soft flesh. In the light of the streetlamp, there are scratched on Jan’s bare thighs and Jackie gulps on reflex - choking back something that could have been a retch if what she’s thinking is true.

She takes a second to compose herself, brushing through Jan’s hair with her free hand. “You okay baby?” She asks quiet and still - trying to keep the situation as tranquil as she can.

Jan takes a huge snotty inhale, broken by sobs, and shakes her head. She tries to speak but she isn’t breathing enough to form words and all that’s coming out is a choked whimper.

“Hey, Jan honey, you’re safe,” she murmurs, “look at me babe.” She repeats it until the blonde will look her in the eyes, her cerulean orbs pooling. “Can I touch you?” Jackie asks, her tone soothing, and Jan nods slowly.

Jackie places a cool hand on her shoulder and feels the sticky sweat against her dry skin. The smell of cheap vodka, beer and mens cologne is filling the car and it makes her feel sick. She’s not a partier or a massive drinker but by the smell alone she doesn’t understand the appeal. She moves quickly, whipping her head around as she remembers the water bottle she keeps in the door. She places it in Jan’s lap and gently coaxes her to take a sip.

After a little while longer Jan rolls her shoulders back and squeezes Jackie’s hand appreciatively. She nods to herself while trying to find her words and Jackie rubs slow circles on her back.

“It, it was twelve and everyone was cheering,“ she starts, slowly, methodically. "And he- he wanted a kiss, which was fine because everyone was kissing and I’d joked last week that I’d kiss him so it was okay,” She pauses, justifying things that don’t need justifying, setting off alarm bells in Jackie’s head to the point where she’s mentally screaming and the story hasn’t even begun.

“But then,” she continues after a sip of water, “at like three, he pulled me aside while Jaida and Gigi were dancing and asked me for a kiss and I said yes because it seemed like the right thing to do.” She’s got silent tears running down her face again and Jackie wants to tell her she doesn’t have to keep going but she’s frozen in place. “But then it, it took a while and he took my hand and he put it down his trousers and he started kissing down my neck.” The words aren’t given tone anymore. They’re cold hard statements of fact that are rattling through Jackie’s ribs, making her fight every urge she has to vomit because Jan’s become her best friend.

“And I didn’t want to do that. I didn’t like him like that and I just wanted a fun kiss. But he made me touch him and I didn’t want that at all.” Jan starts to shake so Jackie pulls the blanket back over her, Keeping one steadying hand on her knee - steadying for the both of them. “So I pulled away and he called me a whore and then I trapped myself in a bedroom and then I texted you and it was awful Jackie. It was terrible and the worst part was I just wanted you.” She sobs openly but the tears run clear now - the mascara washed off her face and she seems lighter and that’s all Jackie could ask for.

“You are so brave Jan,” Jackie says with as much confidence as she can muster. “You are so brave and that man is a coward and a dick if he thinks he can do that to a woman and you are the strongest person I know, don’t you forget that.” She leans her forehead on the side of the blonde’s head and sighs.

“I’m so sorry baby."

“Me too,” Jan murmurs. “Me too.”

I love these roads where the houses don’t change (and I like you)

2 2 5 6 - 0 5 - 2 2 - 2 0 1 0

“Oh God, Oh God, Oh God,” mutters Jackie, knees bouncing, clammy palms on the leather seats.

They’re racing down the empty street, lamps flickering as they pass. If it was any lighter, neighbourhood watch would have caught them out by now because this is almost certainly not within legal speed limits for the suburbs. Jan passes house after house as they try frantically to make it for Jackie’s eleven pm curfew, the wind low and whistling as it cuts the car. They know the stakes.

Jackie’s face has turned a pale shade of white in fear of the reaction she will face, scraping in just under the time agreed. How her mother will react to Jan driving the family car back home, kissing her gently on the cheek and walking two streets to her own home.

They pull up at ten fifty-nine and Jan almost bursts into tears.

“See you tomorrow?” She asks softly, wistfully.

“Yeah,” Jackie exhales, tomorrow.

Where we can talk like there’s something to say (and I like you)

2 3 5 8 - 1 2 - 3 1 - 2 0 1 0

Jan makes Jackie pull over when she notices the time. They’re both too drunk to be driving and too sober to be alone and they’ve got the windows down as the sea breeze tunnels through the car. It smells of sunsets and saltwater and ice cream sundaes and Jackie’s hair and Jan is hooked.

The old car clock ticks quietly above the hum of the engine and the barely-there sound of the waves and Jackie finds pleasure in watching Jan’s eyes fixate on the hand. It swings around, red against the clock face.

Jan catches her staring and her eyes burn blue into Jackie’s deep brown. It’s a cold night but they’ve both pulled the blankets from the back seat and suddenly the blonde is aware of how small the vehicle is because there is not enough room between their faces and-

Their lips touch. Spark. Flicker. Ignite.

And then she’s warm and intoxicated and just a little bit in love but she thinks the dopey smile suits her - heads lolled back on the headrests, hands intertwined.

I’m glad that we stopped kissing the tar on the highway (and I like you)

1 6 2 4 - 0 2 - 1 4 - 2 0 1 1

Jackie drives them to the beach at sunset. They sit in the boot of the car on a picnic blanket in a parking spot that overlooks the crashing waves and it’s an illusion of stillness Jackie struggles to find anywhere else.

They hold hands because no one can see them - drink a bottle of champagne stolen from Jan’s Mom’s wine fridge. The blonde is bundled up in Jackie’s chunky knit cardigan and she looks warm and cosy and just a little bit like home.

“Hold me,” Jan asks, with eyes like saucers and a tone rolling in sugar. Jackie blinks slowly - capturing the image of her girlfriend in this moment before reaching to pull her into her arms. They don’t have much room but Jan somehow manages to straddle her - a hand on each cheek as Jackie grips her hips. The brunette bites her own lip softly and suddenly their mouths are pressed together and she’s not sure if it’s the sea air, the girl or a little bit of both but it tastes like magic and she doesn’t ever want to let it go.

“I love you,” she exhales into her hair - just above her ear.

“I love you more,” Jan whispers onto her collarbone.

“Sure Jan,” Jackie giggles, pulling Jan closer, burying her face into her hair. “Happy Valentine’s day baby.”

We move in the tree streets

0 8 3 5 - 0 8 - 2 8 - 2 0 1 1

“We’re only gonna be four hours away,” Jan mumbles, fingers finding Jackie’s with ease. “Why does that feel like the whole universe?”

They’re sat on Jan’s front steps - she has to leave in an hour if she’s going to make it to NYU for move-in but she’s not quite sure how to put one foot in front of another. Her life is packed up in boxes behind her but her world is holding her hand.

“Four hours baby. That’s all,” Jackie coaxes, “we can do it.” She says it with so much confidence but her bottom lip is trembling frantically. She got a place at Penn State and she’s happy. It’s what she wants - to be away from her family - to grow. Unfortunately that means being away from Jan too.

“Will we make it?” Jan asks - and it’s so earnest it breaks Jackie’s heart.

“Yes.” Jackie says. And this time her lip is still.

I’d like it if you stayed.

#rpdr fanfiction #jackie cox #jan sport #jankie #lesbian au #coming of age #song fic #fluff #s12 #pinkgrapefruit #tw noncon with unnamed side character #tw mild panic attack #still fluffy though #jackie comes from a strict household #jan reads shakespeare #hi i hate trying to make sense of your fucking tags. -v

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p4lparker · 4 years

Text

Finding Myself

It had been weeks since Stiles and I had last seen each other alone. I guess we both took to heart what his dad said about cooling off for a little while. I'd texted. I'd called. Hell I'd even made them an edible arrangement. Still nothing.

Stiles avoided me at all costs and if I saw the sheriff, he avoided all eye contact with me. Both stung just as much as the other. I was sick of staring at my phone and hoping for a notification from the youngest Stilinski. I was sick of waiting around for him to pick me back up again, like I was some misfit toy. So the rave Lydia had mentioned earlier was becoming more and more tempting as the minutes ticked by.

Luckily this time; there was no Kanima, or ninja demons, just a bunch of kids fist pumping and wearing masks to look forward to. Obviously, the rave had a theme; masquerade. It was supposed to make the evening more mysterious, or at least that's what Lydia said. And as usual, I just agreed- it was less painful that way. I blew my cheeks out and held my breath, before finally texting the strawberry blonde a simple "I'm in." Before deciding to get ready for the event.

Showering and shaving, before drying off and piling all of my damp hair to the top of my head. I pondered what to wear. My hair was taken care of: out of the way was always the best option on nights like tonight. I searched through the closet, and as I did- I received a message from Lydia.

"Wear the dress." It was a simple command. That sent butterflies hammering against the inside of my stomach and chest. 'The dress' was a slinky black number the queen bee herself had picked up for me. It was short and backless- meaning I would have to forgo wearing a bra, but for one night, I'm sure it wouldn't matter too much. And Lydia had said it was perfect for me. I obviously had no choice but to accept the ostentatious and revealing dress and hide it in the back of my closet. I had refused to wear it several times, deeming it to 'special'. But tonight I was deciding to throw caution to the wind. To let myself loose. And to follow my fashionably infallible friends advice. Applying a light layer of makeup, mainly focusing on my eyes and lips; the two places people would see the most of. A brush of a smoky eye, and a smearing dark lipstick and I was set to go. Pulling on a pair of not as scruffy converse, I pushed my phone, keys and purse into a small bag and set off from my room. Rushing through the apartment to avoid anyone seeing me dressed like this, I waited at the curb for Lydia to pull up in her car; she was the designated driver for tonight, meaning the rest of the girls could drink. Which I was thankful for, as I felt like I needed it. The radio was blasting a bunch of songs to get us in the mood; Kira had made a CD specially for the occasion. And it was working, the fast paced music was getting us all in the mood and excited for the rest of the night. Lydia drove us through the less busy streets of Beacon Hills, and slowly navigating her way through the warehouse district; because obviously the party had to be held in an abandoned warehouse. Soon Lydia pulled over and gestured for us all to get out. Once we were all stationed beside her car, she paced in front of us and handed us all a masquerade mask; all varying, Alison had a black feathered one that covered one side of her face, Lydia herself had a golden mask that covered the majority of her face, Kira had an ornate looking red mask that covered her eyes and most of her cheeks, and mine was a black mask made entirely from lace. They all seemed a little too fussy to me, but that was what Lydia deemed acceptable so we all just went with it. Attaching the mask before we all walked in sync to the entrance; the only thing you needed to get in was a business card with a masquerade mask on it.

Once we entered the warehouse, it was covered with people. Writhing bodies pressed tightly against each other, and the majority weren’t even dancing- they were trying to make their way through the crowds. The music was fast paced and pounding so loudly I could feel the echo within my chest, it rumbled through the ground and seemed to make the people within the warehouse vibrate with its ambience. Lydia looked at us all in turn.

“Time to divide and conquer ladies..” Was all she shouted before turning and grabbing hold of the nearest guy and dragging him further into the crowd. Alison and Kira were the next to disappear, heading off in the general direction Lydia ventured- I on the other hand just stood and basked in the atmosphere. The lights were flashing, lasers making pretty patterns in the air and on the barely visible floor. There was smoke pouring from above, as well as sparks which created a dangerous vibe. And the strobe lights made everything seem like it was going in slow motion- making my eyes feel jerky. I breathed in a deep breath of air before wandering towards the bar. Once I got there I had a better vantage point to observe anything and everything. The warehouse was almost chaotic, its walls holding at least a thousand bodies. If not more. The only problem was, I recognised only three of those bodies to begin with. I was surrounded by strangers, and it was beginning to make me feel very isolated and lonely.

"Hey there.." Was shouted in my ear, allowing me to hear the words over the booming music. Turning my head in the direction of the voice, I saw a girl about my age. Though I couldn't really tell through the silver mask that covered her face. Her identity was a secret, much like everybody's at this rave was.

"Hey.." I yelled back.

"You looked a little lonely? Over here all by yourself, so I thought you could use the company, maybe even a dance partner!" She exclaimed, moving her head to rest near my ear. I could feel her breathe, like a cool breeze as it fanned against the skin of my neck- in the too hot warehouse, all of the bodies were causing the temperature to rise uncomfortably. The sudden change of hot to cold caused Goosebumps to rise, and gave me a fluttering in my belly. Ignoring the feeling I tried to think of a reply, that wouldn't make me sound stupid. Or more stupid than I looked just standing there not doing anything, I wasn't even sure if I was breathing properly. This mysterious girl was causing my brain to freeze.

"I'm not lonely.. I was just being alone. And watching. I was watching the crowd.. It's kind of mesmerising..." I yelled back, moving my head closer to her ear, almost copying her movements. Before I mentally face palmed. 'Mesmerising, watching'? I sounded like a freak. I watched her profile, though I could only see her eyes and lips I knew she was gorgeous. And the way she held herself, she was confident too, which only made her more attractive. Her eyes were a bright blue, one that almost matched the colour of a the sky on a cloudless summer day- her lips were full and pouty, smothered in a red gloss; making them resemble a juicy red apple. As the thought flittered across my mind, the girl beside me took a bite of her bottom lip. Almost as if she knew what I was thinking, a small smirk tugging at the corners of her delectable looking mouth. Before I knew what I was doing I felt my own bottom lip being drawn into my own mouth. I could feel myself being drawn to the girl; and I momentarily wondered why I wasn’t jealous of the obvious sex appeal she oozed. I watched her, closely- almost too closely and vaguely wondered if she felt uncomfortable with the scrutiny she was under.

“Well maybe a drink now and then a dance later?” The girl murmured into my ear, her head now resting on my shoulder- her pouty lips dangerously close to my neck, sending shivers down my spine. With no words to be found lingering in my mouth or my mouth or brain- I just nodded dumbly. She raised an elegant hand and made a gesture the bar tender seemed to understand. Once our order was place, she turned to look at me. I could feel her eyes trail all over my face, before settling on my lips and lingering there for short while- before shooting back up to my eyes and letting a smile paint her own lips. Our drinks were placed in front of us, we both raised them and toasted, before drinking them. Soon she had ordered us both a few more; how many, I couldn’t remember. But during the time it took for us to drink them; she had let her arm slip over my shoulders, she’d gripped my waist and let her hand trail down my arm to link her hand with my own as we finished off our latest drink. Every time her skin made contact with my own it was like getting a static shock- a tingling sensation over took my skin when it met hers. Soon enough she was pulling on my hand and leading me out onto the dance floor.

It was filled with other people, we were all crammed together tightly- forcing us all to mingle together. The beat was pounding almost as loud as my heart against my rib cage. And the girl who pulled me to the tightly packed space, raised our joined hands above our heads- before swaying her hips and beginning to dance. I stood awkwardly with one arm raised above my head as the girl who was sending shivers down my body wiggled her hips to the music. The girl who was still swaying her hips, dragged me closer to her. She let her hands trail down to my hips, and began to move them in time with her own- once she thought I had the hang of the movement she moved her hands, and let me sway my hips myself. She pulled me even closer to her, her fingers grazing over the exposed skin on my back, dragging up and down my spine. I let my own hands wander as I let go of my inhibitions, they finally found a home in her hair- knotting themselves in the tresses. All the while we were moving, our eyes were locked; her gaze driving into my own, a grin on her lips, I realised my own face must have been doing something similar. I let the music guide me, and she did to.

“What’s your name?” I called into her ear, her own face began nuzzling into my neck. I felt her lips graze the skin in barely there kiss. Which sent my body onto high alert; it was like every touch she gave me was multiplied by a thousand.

“No names. We don’t need to know names- we’ll know bodies instead..” Was all she muttered into my ear before attacking my neck with her lips. They kissed up the column of my throat delicately, before deciding that she needed to make more of an impression. Her teeth came out to play, and bit down on the sensitive skin- sending shockwaves directly into my centre, before she suckled the skin, being sure to leave a noticeable mark. I bit my lip to hold in the moan that was desperate to escape; not that it would be heard by those surrounding us, but it would be heard by the girl who’d allowed her lips to make a home on my neck. I felt her lips trail lower, dragging down on the skin as they travelled lower to my chest. I felt her hands do a similar action as her face nuzzled itself into my chest, her hands tickling gently at the sides of my thighs. She shimmied her way back up so her face was directly in front of mine. Her eyes locked with mine before glancing at my lips quickly. I wasn’t sure if she was asking for permission, but I granted it anyway- nodding jerkily. As her lips made contact with my own, I felt butterflies swarm around my belly. Kissing her, was nothing like kissing Stiles. Her lips were soft and tentative- they tasted of watermelon and the shots we’d been drinking. Her hand, gently brushed against my cheek, and eventually when I needed to take a breath- she pulled away slowly. My lips still pouted, and I knew I wanted to feel hers pressed against them again. I tangled my fingers in her hair and coaxed her mouth towards my own, our lips pressed together gently before I added more pressure. Her lips moved against my own, slicking over them and making me wish I could feel them constantly press against my own. I was beginning to feel adventurous, as her fingers dragged up and down my spine, I let my tongue slip out and gently lick across her full bottom lip.

She quickly allowed me access to the secrets her lips held, but not before she gave my tongue a playful nip. It slipped into her mouth and began a sensual dance with her own; not too unlike the way our hips were moving together. I could feel warmth bubble within my centre, and it astounded me. She’d only kissed me once, and I was dying to have more of her. Taste her skin, and feel other parts of her body pressed tightly against my own. I could only imagine how her fingers would feel stroking up other parts of my body- I longed to let my fingers stroke over her own body to find out if the skin hidden beneath the shorts and T-shirt she was wearing, was as soft and as smooth as it seemed. Our lips remained firmly pressed against each other, our tongues still tangling together as she gently tugged on my hand and led me out of the crowd; I was impressed as she was managing to do all of this whilst walking backwards in a very populated area, I couldn’t even walk the way I was facing. I didn’t know what she had planned until I felt myself being turned around and my back was pressed against the wall. The coolness of the brick, felt soothing against my too hot skin. The girl finally let her lips leave my own, hers leaving a blazing trail down my neck. She set to work, creating her own masterpieces on my skin, it was like I was a blank canvas for her to decorate as she saw fit. I stood, leaning against the wall- trying to regain some semblance of reality. I needed the wall to support me, as I’m pretty sure my legs were beginning to feel like jelly. She raised both of my hands above our heads and held them against the wall with one of hers.

With her free hand, her fingers walked delicately down my arms, tickling the skin lightly as they went. They continued down the side of my body- moving to settle on my hip before gliding back up to my breast. Gently cupping it, I let a moan slip from my lips- she took that as an invitation to squeeze me, and let her lips flow back to my own and claim them. I felt her tongue slip inside my mouth and tangle with my own; her hand that was holding my own, slipped down my body and rest on my thigh before she pulled it up to rest around her hip, the hand on my breast squeezing more firmly. I let my own hands wander her body, gently feeling the soft skin. I let my hands settle on her hips, letting my thumbs slip under the thin material of it and felt the skin beneath. The kiss was almost violent, our teeth clashed together as we needed to feel more of each other. She let her hips press into my own, beginning to rub against me. Her thigh brushing against me in just the right way, making me wishes we were somewhere more private. I pulled my lips away from hers, just as her fingers trailed from my hip to my inner thigh- I let out a gasp before burying my face in her neck, letting my lips kiss against her slightly sweaty skin. I felt the need to mark her as my own, as the thought appeared in my brain; my body moved of its own accord, teeth nibbling and biting at the delicate skin before my lips suckled it softly. The answering groan, only fuelled my desire, I sucked harder and let my teeth sink further into the supple skin. Her fingers trailed the skin of my inner thigh before brushing gently over the centre of my panties. I gasped as they made contact. Before my mind could even catch up to my body movements, I was ripping my lips from her body and dragging her to the entrance of the club.

I dragged her to the outside of the building, shoving her against the wall. I let my lips find hers and began to kiss her again. Her lips were smooth and inviting against my own. She was pliable and allowed me to have my way with her. Letting my hands grope over her skin almost greedily, I let my hands grasp handfuls of her butt. Squeezing the cheeks in my hands and pulling her body flush against my own. We continued to kiss of some time, in all honesty I wasn’t sure how long had passed. All I knew was I wanted more time with her. I pulled away from her lips almost reluctantly- and her disappointed moan let me know she felt the same.

“We need somewhere more private than against a warehouse wall..” I muttered against her lips before pulling back fully. I gripped her hand in my own and led her to the street, I waited patiently for cab to pull over and notice us- as I was focused on finding a ride, the girl behind me let her lips smother my neck and shoulder in kisses. I let content sighs slip from my lips and watched excitedly as a cab pulled up in front of us. I opened the door quickly and pushed her in first before settling in next to her, my hand gripping gently on her thigh as she snuggled next to me.

“Where to?” The driver called over his shoulder, his eyes fixed on the way the girl was rubbing her hand over my breast. I felt my brain stutter before I blurted out an address that wasn’t my own. The girl had no idea where we were going, but the driver seemed to know the route well enough- so I allowed myself to become distracted by the beauty who was occupied trying to slide her hands up my legs and into my panties. Biting my lip to gold in my moans as her fingers pressed against the material and rubbed it against my most sensitive skin. Before I knew what was happening, the cab was pulling to a slow and then a stop outside the Stilinski residence. I threw the money through the window and into the drivers hand before pushing out the car and dragging the gorgeous girl behind me. I pulled her up to the door and knocked to let Stiles know we were there. The booze was still sloshing around in my bloodstream and made me think the Stilinski residence would be the perfect place for me to ‘know this girl’s body’. I didn’t think of the consequences of seeing him after so long, I was only thinking of how quickly I could feel her against me. The door opened to a groggy looking Stiles; his eyes were blurry and he was only wearing a pair of sweatpants. I giggled at his appearance, and his eyes widened as he clocked the girl who was biting at my shoulder.

“Y/N… W-w-What’re you uhh what’re you d-doing here?” Stiles stuttered, he was still watching as I turned my head to kiss the girl behind me.

“You weren’t at the rave. Why weren’t you at the rave?” I murmured as I pulled my lips away from hers.

“Uhh no. No, I wasn’t.. This is happening right now…” Stiles muttered, rubbing his hands over his face. I giggled again as he pulled us both through the door and waved at the neighbours who were peeking from their curtains- I peered over Stiles’ shoulder and waved too, laughing loudly as I did. The girl was still letting her hands explore my body from behind; she gripped my butt tightly and began to wriggle my dress up my hips to expose the dark panties I had on underneath. I gasped and tried to shake her hands off. I could see Stiles watching, his chocolate eyes were wide and his mouth was dropped open. I grinned at him, gently tugging on his hand and pulling him towards me. I let my lips kiss gently on his neck. Looking up I watched as his eyes closed and his mouth opened slightly wider, his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. I focused my attention fully on him, I lifted my hand and gently grasped his chin in between my fingers and thumb- coaxing his head in line with my own, and I let my lips meet his in a gentle kiss. As our lips touched, my body felt like it was on fire- in a way only he could manage without even touching me. The girl let out a whine behind me, as Stiles’ tongue slipped into my mouth. Suddenly, Stiles was pushing me backwards and away from him- he kept his hands wrapped around my elbows as if to hold me at bay. He breathed deeply.

“Y/N, what are you even doing here?” Stiles whispered out, shaking his head slightly as if to clear it. I looked at him, partially confused- until I remembered he’d been ignoring me for a couple of weeks. I stepped back.

“I missed you. And you’ve been avoiding me for weeks. I can’t stand it.. I needed to see you.. Stiles, please..” I whispered, the girl came up behind me and attached her lips to my neck and shoulder again. I could feel the skin bruising under the pressure of her lips, and it caused a loud moan to make itself known. Stiles stood, his eyes were glued to the way she was kissing me. I locked my gaze with his own, watching his reactions. I felt the girl smooth her hands up my arms, I looked over my shoulder at her to see her also watching the boy before us. Looking back to Stiles as she slowly pulled the sleeves of my dress from my shoulders. The material slipped from my shoulders and exposed my chest to Stiles- who pulled his bottom lip between his teeth. The fabric fell to my hips and stuck there, until her small hands pulled it down gently. She kissed down my back as she followed the path of the material- sending shivers up my body.

“She’s missed you Stiles.. just look at the way her body misses you..” She murmured over my shoulder as she pulled my panties down my legs too. She stroked her hands up the inside of my legs before they caressed my inner thighs- getting closer and closer to the place I was desperate to be touched. I watched as Stiles clenched his fists by his side, before he pulled them up and crossed them over his chest. The girl let her fingers venture inside my folds; a loud groan echoed around the room.

“Are you going to let her apologise or not?” She called, as she pulled me backwards to the couch, she stood in front of me and gave me a gentle kiss before pushing me down on to it. She followed me down and let her lips caress my own in a soft kiss. Her finger tracing all over my skin before burying them inside my core once more, she rubbed gently on the sensitive bundle of nerves, and spread my wetness over me completely. Her fingers slipped inside me and my answering moan echoed loudly throughout the room. I couldn’t suppress the noises that escaped my mouth as she continued to explore me. She was right; we didn’t need names- she was already familiar with my body, but I had no idea about her. She continued to pump her fingers inside- grinding her palm on my clit and stimulating me further towards the bliss I was desperate to taste. I turned my head to look at Stiles, he was perched on the chair watching the scene before him- one hand covering his mouth and the other was palming at the bulge in his trousers. I moaned, the sight pushing me further towards that edge- as I watched him pleasure himself the girl buried her fingers deeper within me, curving them upwards and tickling that particular spot within that made me see stars. And all of a sudden but not quickly enough; my back was arching from the sofa, my toes were curling, and a near scream was stumbling from my lips, my legs shook and the tight feeling deep within me finally burst and showered me with pleasure.

Once I was finally calm enough, I pushed the girl off of me- we rolled and landed with a thump on the floor by the sofa. We both collapsed in giggles and our lips met in a giggly kiss- full of clashing teeth and warring tongues. I rolled myself on top of her and began to worship her body; kissing any patch of skin I could find until it wasn’t enough. My fingers finding the hem of her T-shirt, pulling it up her body in a rush. My eyes wandered and then zoned in on the lacy bra that held her chest captive from my salivating lips- not bothering to undo the article, just forcing the cups down and off the delicious skin beneath. I didn’t give her time to breath before I attacked her breasts with my lips, tongue and teeth. Nipping and sucking leaving purple splotches all over marking her as my own. I pulled back gently, and stared at the picture I had painted with my mouth. My lips had a mind of their own as they kissed lower over her belly to the waist of her shorts. I frowned, not being able to any further until the offending fabric had been removed. I set to and unbuttoned and unzipped them before trying to shuffle them down her body; more and more supple skin being revealed to my greedy eyes. She lifted her hips and aided me in my mission to get her naked. I looked at her face to see her biting her lip in anticipation. Once the shorts were finally off, I tugged her panties to the side and let my eyes devour her. I looked to the side and watched as Stiles was leaning forward in his seat; still palming the obvious erection that was yet to be set free.

“Are you going to join us.. or just sit there like you’re watching porn..” I called, giggling as his eyes widened.

“This is really happening.. oh shit. This is really, really happening..” I heard him mutter, but he didn’t move from his position unfortunately for me. The girl below me was losing her patience quickly, she gripped my chin and tugged me towards her face- she kissed me furiously. Her other hand grasped my own and let it slide down her body and to her core. She entered our fingers together; guiding my hand in a way she appreciated from the moans dripping from her lips. I pulled back from the kiss, and let my eyes follow the movements of our hands- if it was possible, I felt myself get wetter at the mere image. Soon she was removing our fingers and she gently grasped my head, before pushing it down her body. I soon had my face in front of her centre; it was dripping and looked ready for something. I wasn’t sure what- until She whispered for me to taste her. I poked my tongue out gently, taking a tentative lick; she tasted tangy and sweet, and it made me want more. I let my tongue explore her inner most mystery, delving my tongue deeper within her. I could hear her moaning above me- I glanced my eyes to see her head being thrown back. I focused my attentions on the sensitive bundle within her- knowing how it felt to have it worshipped. I continued with my work, letting her sounds guide me; until I heard a loud growl from across the room, I looked over to see Stiles standing up from his seat, he stalked over to the pair of us. He kneeled down behind me; I felt his hands attach themselves to my butt cheeks squeezing tightly. He groaned as he manoeuvred himself to lay his chest against my back and gently kissed down the back of my neck and shoulder- before he harshly sucked a hickey onto the skin of my shoulder blade.

I felt his hand wrap itself in my hair, he wrapped it around his knuckled and yanked upwards- pulling my head from the warmth of our companion. She let out a disappointed groan, as my tongue had left her wanting; Stiles forced my mouth to his and practically devoured my mouth with his in an open mouthed kiss- his tongue was tasting the girl’s juices that still lingered on my own tongue. During the kiss, I heard the girl let out a loud moan- but I ignored her in favour of focusing on the man before me, who was no longer ignoring me. Instead, he was setting a fire deep within me- I tingled all over for him to touch me. His hands found my hips, he hoisted me around so I was facing him fully. He looked into my eyes and I saw the normally comforting caramel brown had been turned almost black- it sent my core into a pulsing frenzy. He thrust his lips at my own and dragged me into a ferocious kiss once more; I let my trembling fingers investigate his warm chest, letting my fingers wander over his washboard abs and trail down to the hem of his sweat pants. Before giving it a tug and letting it pang back against his sensitive skin- throughout my ministrations he let whines slip through our fused lips. I began pushing the elastic from his hips- yearning to see what he was hiding beneath. It had been far too long since I was lavishing him with attention. I was determined to make him feel amazing; I wanted to hear him calling my name and groaning. I wanted him to remember how I made him feel and never want to leave me alone for long again. I wanted to make him feel good, so badly it was almost as if it was a personal need. Stiles pulled his pants down his legs and left them to rest around his knees, he then pulled his boxers to rest near them, slipping out one of the parts of him I had missed the most.

I had missed the way his expressive eyes would gloss over just before he exploded, I missed the way his long and dexterous fingers would torture me and my body before he delved them where I longed for them. I missed the way he would growl my name when I made him feel especially fantastic, I missed the way he would fill me completely almost to the point of being painful. And I was more than ready to experience all of those things with him again, tonight. The residual alcohol had since left my system, and I was thinking much more clearly- I was also more able to please him. He forced me around once more- breaking our kiss, we both breathed heavily trying to calm ourselves down. He pulled my hips to rest near his own before he pushed on my back and forced me to lie my chest on the ground- my face lingering in front of the girl’s dripping and neglected centre once more.

“I need to get something.. Y-you should look after her th-though..” was all he muttered into my ear before he left me abruptly, I yearned to feel the heat of his body crushed against my own again. I turned my head and followed his movements; he jogged up the stairs and I heard clattering and thumping before I heard his feet bounding down the stairs again. His gaze locked on mine and he frowned.

“I thought I told you to take care of her while I was getting something?” Stiles stated, his voice had changed from the one I recognised; this voice he used was low and dangerous, it sent a shockwave straight to my already slick core. I felt my mouth drop open as he stomped towards us. The girl in front of me whined and wriggled her hips as if to gain my attention, I ignored her for a moment longer- until I saw Stiles glare at me in warning. I widened my eyes before diving back between the girl’s legs and tasting her. Her joyous moans fuelled me to work her harder, I let my eyes wander to where Stiles was standing- but he was no longer there. I felt his presence behind me, his hand caressed my back and ass cheeks. Before I felt the stinging pain of one palm, landing on one cheek. I called out at the sensation; it was painful but it sent a wave of pleasure rushing through me.

“I asked you to do something, and you ignored me. Tsk, tsk..” Stiles rumbled into my ear as he drew back his hand and let his palm make contact with my butt again- causing me to moan out loud and jolt forwards further into the girl’s pussy. She moaned loudly, it was close to a scream. And suddenly, I felt her juices fill up my mouth as I continued to lick at her.

“Now, you’ll have to be punished Y/N..” Stiles growled behind me, I could faintly hear him fiddling with something- before I felt his fingers within me. He tickled at my clit before letting his fingers plunge into my core- he picked his pace quickly- quicker than I was used to, before I felt him scissoring me. Soon he withdrew his fingers, and replaced them with his length. He slammed himself into me; causing a whine to rip from my throat, the girl let her legs slip open wider and gripped at my head, to keep my face in the place she wanted it. I kept licking at her, drawing patterns over her clit- and moaning as Stiles thrust into me. His rhythm was fast, and hard and it was pushing me towards my end quicker than I liked. He growled behind me before dropping his palm against me again, I yelled out as he continued his motions. Thrust, palm, thrust, palm, thrust, palm. This pattern continued until he pushed himself deep within me quicker- at a pace I thought was impossible unless he had supernatural help. I could tell he was nearing his end- the same as the girl and myself. Our cries blended together until; she was screaming, I was moaning so loudly it would shame a porn star.

“Y/N!” Was growled as we all jumped into that pleasure together. Her juices once more coated my lips and chin, Stiles let his load fill the condom he was wrapped in and I felt my own climax dripping down my thighs and onto Stiles’ sweatpants. Stiles ran his fingers down my spine before tugging me up so my back was resting against his heaving chest. The girl laid still on the floor, her legs open wide with a grin on the bottom of her face; the only part we could see. It was then I remembered neither of us had taken off our masks. I giggled and slumped into Stiles’ chest, Stiles let his chin rest on my shoulder and soon joined in with my laughter. The girl before us, frowning before she shuffled up. She positioned herself in front of me and let her lips meet my own in a gentle peck. She quickly gathered her clothes, and pulled them onto her sweaty body. I watched as she grabbed my bag and pulled out my phone, trying something in and then placing it back in my bag. I too stood up and pulled Stiles with me, he grabbed a blanket from the couch and wrapped it around my body before ridding himself of the used condom and pulling his pants and boxers back into place. We both walked with the girl in silence to the front door, before she left through it she gave me one last passionate kiss- letting her tongue taste my own.

“You have my number in case you wasn’t a repeat..” Was all she muttered against my lips before she walked out the door and down the street- hailing a cab which conveniently drove down the street at that point. We watched as she got in and drove off. Once she was out of sight, Stiles reached in front of me and closed the door, before tugging on the blanket and leading me back into the lounge. He plonked himself down on the sofa tiredly, pulling me down to land on his lap with a quiet ‘Ooof’ as I landed. He pulled my legs sideways and laid them on the other cushion. I settled my head on his shoulder and gently kissed the crook of his neck as he sighed contentedly.

“I’m sorry. So, so sorry.. I thought I was doing the right thing.” Stiles whispered into my hair, his lips pressing against is in soft kisses. “Please, Y/N- forgive me..” He begged in whispered tones.

“I’ll never leave you alone again.. I can’t handle it..” he continued, I just nodded and pressed a kiss to his shoulder, then his neck, his chin and finally the corner of his lips. He looked down at me, his eyes were sad- until I nodded my forgiveness. He smiled gently before pecking my lips a few times. He curled his arms around my body and stood from the sofa- I let out a small ‘Eeep’ and wrapped my arms around his neck as he carried me to his room- kicking open the door, and then shut again. He walked the last few steps into the room and then plopped me down on his bouncy bed. And chuckled at me flopping around. I stared up at him as he stepped closer to me, spreading my knees I welcomed him between them and let his lips find my own in a sweet kiss. He pulled away a short time later and stepped back, I watched as he left the room and heard his thumping feet as he bound down the stairs. I flopped back onto the bed and let his scent and sheets surround me. When he came back into the room, I was comfortable and edging sleep. I felt him slip under the sheets behind me- wrapping his arms around my tired body and leaving a gentle kiss on my forehead before I finally let slumber claim me. All was well again; I was in Stiles’ arms once more.

#stiles x reader #stiles smut

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lia-jones · 4 years

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Growing Pains - Chapter Twenty Six - The Rube Goldberg Trap

Author’s Note: Writing this first part was probably simultaneously the most scary and delightful I had done in my life. Finishing it was like the end of an era. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did writing, and if you did, please let me know. Your words and support are my bread and butter, and you have no idea how brighter my day becomes when I hear from you. So, it’s see you later, for now. Second part will be coming out soon! Lots of love!

Since I can remember, I have been fascinated with Rube Goldberg machines, even before I knew what they were called. A Rube Goldberg machine is also known as a chain reaction machine, which is basically a complicated contraption that requires a certain number of actions, one always leading to another, to obtain a single, usually very simple, purpose. It’s inventor, Rube Goldberg, invented them for comic purposes, but I was fascinated by how it seemed to represent the way fate affects our lives, should such a thing exist.

Because if fate was a real thing, there was a reason why I quit the piano and decided to take Economics instead. And my change of career led to me meeting Daniel, and falling in love with him. Which, of course, led to the abuse, and me coming to Loveland to change my life. Simultaneously, that also led to me taking my doctorate, as well as my internship in LFG, and meeting Victor.

If fate was a real thing, there was a reason why my car broke down in the middle of the main avenue that rainy night, and a reason for Victor to stop and help me instead of moving along. There was a reason for him to startle me in the coffee room and make me spill coffee all over myself, because otherwise he wouldn’t have asked for me to present my own reports, and I wouldn’t have argued with him and wouldn’t have tried to quit the job, and Victor would’ve gone to Creekwood by himself, and we wouldn’t get to know each other, or fall in love.

Of course, believing in fate is always a nice thought. Even if we make mistakes, we can say it was fate. It was meant to be that way, because if we didn’t mess up, this or that wouldn’t have happened. Even the faultiest of actions can be seen as part of the Rube Goldberg machine, and we can cut ourselves some slack. It is faulty when we look at it closely. But if we look at the bigger picture, after the complicated contraption does its job, it fits perfectly. Its purpose is clear.

Unless, of course, the contraption leads to an unwanted result. That is a new kind of scary.

My presence in that fashion show seemed to be the push on the button of another Rube Goldberg machine, leading to a series of events, and I still couldn’t put my finger on all of them. As far as I was concerned, the contraption was still in motion, one event leading to the other. It began at the show, which probably caused a paparazzi to see me, which piqued the interest of that reporter who wrote the article, which lead to… this.

The morning after the article, I spoke with the Dean, reassuring her that the situation would be dealt with. Since Victor Lee was one of the people involved, she was relieved almost immediately, knowing he wouldn’t possibly let anything escape his watchful eye. After my classes and a brief meeting with my research team, I headed to LFG to meet the lawyers, and see what could be done about this whole thing.

I arrived at LFG to find Victor already in the conference room with the lawyers.

“Gentleman, please inform Miss Jones of what you believe we should do.” Victor ordered as I sat down. He was in CEO mode, bossy, poker face in place.

“We believe we may sue them for violation of privacy.” One of them turned to me. “Your abuse is a serious matter, and we can allege that the fact that they interviewed your abuser actually gave him the idea to try to reconnect with you.”

“Oh my God. Please don’t remind me.” I held my head between my hands.

Victor gave me a reassuring look. It made me feel safer, and I relaxed.

“We have to say, however, this may not work.” The other lawyer advised. “But the consequences of a lawsuit, even if the publisher is deemed not guilty of the charges, will be disastrous for them. We are talking about legal expenses, long days in court, not to mention no one will want to have anything to do with the company that crossed LFG’s CEO.”

“They will lose all their investors and go bankrupt.” I concluded. They all nodded, apparently pleased that I understood it. “But is this just a threat, or are we really going to go through with it?”

“Your choice.” Victor offered. “Whatever you decide, it’s final.”

“If we go through with this, if we press charges, my abuse will be discussed to no end, right?”

They all nodded.

“I don’t want that. And I have no intention of sending hundreds of people to unemployment either. I just want this to go away and maybe to send a warning that my personal business is off-limits.”

The lawyers all looked at Victor for approval. He gave them a small nod.

Suddenly, the door to the conference room opened, and an elegant tall man in his 60’s entered, his expression unsmiling and unforgiving. That expression alone would be a dead giveaway to who he was, if I hadn’t seen his picture in Victor’s biography. It was Victor’s father, Gregory Lee. Goldman followed shortly after him, a panicked expression on his face. And everyone in the room, except for me and Victor, were immediately affected by his presence, looking all uncomfortable and suddenly ceremonious.

Mr. Lee senior turned to the lawyers, speaking like he was actually their boss and ran the whole company himself.

“I need a moment alone with my son. Make yourselves busy elsewhere.”

Without another word, they quickly left the room, practically bowing to the man. The more I looked at him, the more I saw the resemblance in Victor. It was like he was a younger version of his father… except maybe for the eyes. The elder man turned to me.

“Did you not hear me? Leave.”

I looked at him, wondering what chip he had on his shoulder to be so rude. Victor intervened.

“Father, this is-“

“I know exactly who she is.” Mr. Lee interrupted, annoyed. “Her face is all over the tabloids.”

“What exactly are you doing here?” Victor asked, showing slight annoyance.

“I came to Loveland on business.” Gregory answered, sitting down. “Imagine my disappointment when one of my assistants brings me a copy of one of those dirty tabloids, featuring my son and… her.”

“I don’t see why is that any of your business.” Victor stated, cool as a cucumber.

“Ungrateful child.” The father spoke, his tone severe. “What do you think you are doing? Is that how you take care of our name, of your reputation? By getting yourself infatuated and letting our name be dragged through the mud? First it was that producer, now this? You’re too much of a fool, always acting on your romantic whims. Look at her. She has no family name, no worth of her own. Are you really considering continuing our bloodline with this girl? With a filthy immigrant?”

“I’m sorry, I won’t let you disrespect me like that!” I stood up.

“Someone should put a muzzle on you.” Victor’s father warned.

“Someone should try.” I retorted, letting him know with my eyes I was not scared of him.

“Enough!” I heard Victor say. “You said your piece. Now leave.” He got up, and walked to the door, opening it.

Gregory Lee walked proudly towards the door. He stopped by Victor, shooting a little more venom.

“I’m glad your mother isn’t here to see this. She would be ashamed of you.” And with that he left.

Victor looked like he took a major blow to the stomach. His eyes were red, his jaw clenching in anger. I had never seen him this vulnerable. He closed the door behind his father, and for a moment I was almost afraid to go to him, fearing he would break under my touch. He looked so fragile. It was evident that Victor’s tender spot was his father… and the mention of his mother.

He leaned against the frosted glass panels of the conference room, taking a deep breath, gathering himself. He was still the same Victor, standing tall and looking dignified, but at the same time, something about him looked frail, unhinged, shaken. I stood before him, massaging his shoulders softly.

He immediately took me in his arms, and held as tight as he could, taking a deep breath. Victor has held me so many times, trying to keep me safe or soothe me, but this was different. This was for his sake. He was the one seeking comfort this time, trying to steady himself. It almost felt like he was recharging.

“I’m sorry for this.” Victor finally spoke, sounding more like his usual self.

“No, I’m the one who’s sorry. I really am sorry. I know he’s your father, but he’s an ass. And he has no right to just waltz in and disrespect you.”

Victor let out another sigh.

“Don’t worry, I’m used to it.” He said, looking at me, but not letting me go out of his grip. “I told you, we don’t get along well.”

“You are a good man, Victor. You are.” I said, hoping my words would sound as honest as they were. He gave me a soft kiss, his lips lingering on mine.

“Let’s go home. I had enough of this day.” Victor gathered his things to leave.

The problem with contraptions like a Rube Goldberg machine is that, if you don’t see the bigger picture, you won’t know what it will lead to until the very end. You just see the dominoes falling, and the ball rolling, and the hourglass turning, and the hammer hitting it, allowing the sand in it to be slowly poured into a bowl supported by a very fragile string that can break at any moment.

All I knew was that my study was compromised, my career was in jeopardy, my abuse was out for the world to see, and Victor was fighting with his father. All of this was weighing on me like the sand in the bowl, and I was terrified to find out what would happen should the fragile string break.

Victor and I sat on the sofa in his living room, nursing our glasses of whiskey, both lost in thought. The world had decided to throw its entire weight on our shoulders, and for the first time in a long time, I didn’t feel strong enough to bear it. I couldn’t help but think this was all my fault. It was all a curse I seemed to carry, and I couldn’t get rid of it, no matter how hard I tried. Now it was affecting Victor as well. It broke my heart to see him hurt like that… because of me.

Victor seemed to read my mind, as he held my hand and spoke in a more upbeat tone.

“You know what we need?” He said, getting up and pulling me with him. “A distraction. Let me cook you something.”

I gladly took the suggestion. We gathered around his kitchen island, preparing ingredients, and at some point all those problems seemed so far away that it was almost funny that they existed. We were just there, living in the moment, enjoying the banter, having fun. We would get through this. We had each other.

And then the doorbell rang. With a heavy sigh, Victor went to open it.

“Mia?” I heard him say from the hallway. “What are you doing here?”

It was my turn to sigh heavily. What was she doing here?

I didn’t understand her reply, but I noticed the voices were starting to get closer and closer. I prepared my serene smile.

“Wait in the kitchen with Andrea, I’ll check in my office.” I heard Victor say.

And there she was, wearing a blue summer dress, looking chirpy and innocent as always.

“Oh, Souvenir food?” She eyed the counter, and all the ingredients on it, curiously.

“Not sure it can qualify as Souvenir food, since we are both preparing it.” I said, as I put some onions to fry in a skillet.

“I miss my days cooking with Victor in Souvenir.” She reminisced. “But I have to say I learned a lot, at least now I can make edible food for Gavin. I was helpless in the kitchen, back in the day.”

My heart sank at the thought of Victor and Mia together, sharing the same moments I just shared with him.

“You used to cook with Victor for Souvenir?” I asked, trying to look impassive.

“I was there all the time!” She beamed. “I’m sure Victor told you, we know each other from way back! The restaurant was named after a memory we shared as kids! Well, one of the happy ones, the whole kidnapping and being in captivity for years isn’t one we want to keep, right?”

I held tight to the counter, my mind reeling. First, he clearly opened the restaurant in her honor, and that made my heart pang. Second, what did she mean, kidnapping? And captivity? This time, I couldn’t keep a straight face, and Mia grew worried.

“Are you feeling alright? You look pale, all of a sudden.” I didn’t reply, I could feel the ground moving under my feet. I focused on a spot on the counter, trying to steady myself.

“What’s the matter? Andrea?” I heard Victor’s voice as he came closer, his hands resting on my shoulders. I discretely shrugged his touch away. Mia didn’t notice, but Victor clearly did.

“Mia, the files you asked for are in that envelope. You don’t need me to see you out, do you?” I heard Victor say, his voice tense.

“No, it’s fine. Feel better, Andrea, okay?”

I nodded, wanting to make her go away as soon as possible. After a while, I heard the door close. I wondered how long it would take her to leave the building so I could leave as well, unnoticed. I released my grip from the counter and walked to the living room to get my phone. Victor followed me.

“Can you fill me in on what just happened?” Victor asked, simultaneously confused and annoyed.

“Why did you close Souvenir, Victor?” I faced him, giving him an accusatory look. “And don’t tell me it was because of Mr. Mills, because I know it wasn’t. It was because of her, wasn’t it? It didn’t make sense to keep it open, because she married another guy.”

Victor froze, his expression slightly panicked. I continued my tirade.

“What about your kidnapping? And being held captive for years? My trauma was spread all over Loveland, and you can’t bother sharing yours? I have to learn about it through your ex?”

“She is not my ex! We never had anything! I don’t even understand why you are so obsessed with her, she’s married! She’s off-limits!” Victor exploded.

“Oh, I’m painfully aware of that! If she was single you wouldn’t even look at me. She was nothing to you and still you shared all your life with her, opened a restaurant for her! Yet I sleep in your bed, practically share a life with you, and I’m kept in the dark. I’m the lesser evil. Why would you want me to move here in the first place?” My eyes were filled with tears. Victor’s were filled with anger.

“Don’t make this about me, you know this is not about me.” He fought back. “This is about your unwillingness to commit! This is about you not wanting to stand by my side and fight. I may not be verbal about a lot of things, Andrea, but I do notice them. And the moment that I asked you to move in, you’ve been evasive. You’re terrified to do this. I know that things went sour when you and Daniel moved in, but I’m not Daniel! And it disgusts me to be compared to him! I have been nothing but supportive! And I wonder if you truly want my support, because the minute things get hard, you look for reasons to walk away! Things got hard back in Portugal, and you ran to Loveland! You must be mentally packing by now!”

“Don’t act like you understand what I’ve been through! And don’t you dare use my abuse against me!” I almost screamed. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so enraged with Victor, and I could see him losing it too. And it was all so unfair! I was risking everything I fought so hard for just to be with him.

Victor paused, noticing he was indeed touching a very sensitive subject. He moved closer, but didn’t touch me, using his pleading eyes to connect with me.

“You’re giving up on us, Andrea. Don’t do this because things are getting harder. We can still solve this together.”

“Things are more than hard, Victor. My career is on the line, my trauma is juicy gossip, you haven’t been honest with me about your past. And some things can’t be solved. Did you tell your father the filthy immigrant can’t actually give him grandchildren? Did you ever consider it yourself? That you may want a child someday and I can’t give it to you? Maybe some things are just meant to crash and burn. Maybe we should cut our losses and call it a day.”

I could see the pain in Victor’s eyes when I spoke those last words. It mirrored the pain I felt when I said them. We had different opinions on that matter. As his history with Mia clearly showed, Victor would go to extreme lengths for something that really mattered to him, and I was one to pick my battles. The approaches were different, but both were right. They just weren’t compatible. Maybe Victor genuinely loved me and would stay strong by my side, but I couldn’t bear to make him go through so much hell.

Victor however, headstrong as he was, only saw his side of the equation, the only right side, in his opinion. And I understand he felt rejected. In retrospect, I also understand why the look in his eyes turned from pain to icy cold rage.

“Fine.” He said, his expression defying me, the wall put in place between us. “If you want to leave, then leave. Maybe your infertility is a silver lining, at least you’ll never leave a child behind when things get rough. Abandoning them like you are doing to me right now.”

I didn’t register the seconds that followed his statement, as I acted out of pure rage and instinct. I could only conclude what I had done when I felt my right hand tingle and saw Victor’s face turned to the side, his eyes closed, my fingers printed on his cheek.

I stood for a moment, wondering if it had been just a nightmare. Victor finally opened his eyes and looked at me, and the pain I saw in them was so deep that I couldn’t help but sob in desperation.

I couldn’t believe what had just happened. But it had happened. There was no way we could take it back.

Without a word, I gathered my things, tears streaming down my face, and walked to the door. Victor stood where he was, I didn’t expect him to follow me. Things had gone way too far.

That’s the thing with chain reaction machines, you are so distracted watching the contraption work, that you forget that you can actually stop it. Our relationship had just exploded in the ugliest of ways. The fragile string supporting the bowl had broken, and sand was spilled everywhere.

#Growing Pains - Series #growingpains #victor x oc #mlqc victor #mlqc li zeyan #mister love queens choice #mlqc fanfic #love and producer

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lawyerpatton · 5 years

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title: absolutely smitten

ao3

taglist: @laraisemotional @4ngstyc00kie @insanegoldie2 @a-grayscale-galaxy @sanders-sides-theories-and-more

word count: 1,864

pairing: logicality

warnings: hurt/comfort, mentions of throwing up

summary: patton is used to the feeling of love as thomas’ heart and emotions, however, when he himself gets struck by the overwhelming feeling, he becomes utterly disgusted and sick.

Patton wasn’t a fool.

He knew this feeling all too well.

It was an odd thing to realize at such a random time, Patton thought. He was sat at the kitchen island, watching as Logan retreated into the common area and up the stairs.

He couldn’t even remember what Logan had said to him, however, he noted that it had probably been a simple greeting as he passed by.

Patton couldn’t help but notice the rapid pace of his heart, the sudden sweatiness of his hands, the heat flushing to his cheeks, and the sickening twist in his stomach.

What Logan would classify as an ailment, is something Patton could easily identify as love.

And Patton despised it.

This wasn’t the first time he’s felt like this, though it’s the first time he’s experienced the emotion towards another person, and it worried him immensely.

Being the literal embodiment of Thomas’ emotions and heart, Patton always felt the second-hand feelings, especially when Thomas was in love.

But this was different, it was stronger and much more prominent. Quite honestly, it made Patton sick with disgust and fear.

A freezing cold hand on his forehead forced Patton out of his thoughts, making him jump at the touch and recoil.

The owner of the hand proceeded to copy his actions and step back, apologizing quickly.

“Sorry Popstar, you okay?”

Patton blinked. Virgil.

“Ah, I’m just peachy,” he responded, forcing a crooked smile on his face before speaking again, “I zoned out a bit there, what were you saying?”

Virgil quirked an eyebrow, confusion clear on his face, though there was a concerned look in his eyes that Patton couldn’t help but notice.

“I wasn’t saying anything. You looked like you were gonna throw up so I came to check up on you.”

Patton’s face contorted into that of shock as he realized that he had just been caught in a lie so easily.

Virgil watched Patton closely, awaiting a response, but when it never came, he understood that he had to take matters into his own hands if he wanted this conversation to go anywhere at all.

“Your forehead was quite hot, you feelin’ a little bit under the weather, Pat?” Virgil kept his distance, as to not make Patton feel crowded.

Patton kept his mouth shut in a thin line and shyly nodded. He felt lightheaded and like he was going to be sick again. He couldn’t do this, he couldn’t live like this everyday.

He couldn’t just act like nothing was wrong when something was absolutely, undeniably wrong.

Patton was in love and there was nothing that he could do to stop it. No amount of berating himself, avoiding Logan, or straight-up denying it could change this fact.

“This can’t be happening,” Patton murmured, a tremble in his voice.

Virgil let out an awkward chuckle, unsure as to what Patton was talking about, “I think you should get some rest, you’re probably just a little sick, it’s nothing to be worried about…”

Patton opened his mouth to refute his statement but quickly closed it and stood up from his chair without a word. He wrapped his arms around his shaky frame and clutched it in a death grip as he walked off, brushing past Virgil completely.

He ignored Virgil’s questioning voice calling his name in confusion as he desperately tried to reach his room without anyone else getting in his way.

Patton was well aware that Virgil could very likely feel his oncoming panic, just like he could feel the other Sides’ emotions but he tried to push that thought away and sped up his pace.

Remembering to breathe was the last thing on Patton’s mind when he stopped in his tracks and sucked in a breath, seeing Logan step out of his room and gingerly shut the door behind him.

He was frozen with fear, even though his brain screamed at him to move, his body just wasn’t having it.

So Patton stood there, in the middle of the upstairs hallway like some kind of deer in the headlights. A look of shock clear on his face as he stared straight at the man who always made his heart beat a little faster in his chest when they talked.

Logan turned his gaze from the door he had just shut towards the hallway and gained a slightly surprised look on his face, seemingly caught off guard by Patton’s presence.

However, the shocked look was gone as soon as it had appeared and was replaced with a soft smile as he walked down the hallway towards the emotional side.

“Ah, Patton, you are exactly the person I was looking for,” he stated calmly as he stopped in front of him, “Do you happen to remember my inquiry earlier? Do you believe you still might be able to help me?”

Patton flinched, what had he asked earlier?, he couldn’t bring himself to remember, he was too busy staring at Logan.

His dark blue eyes shone in the light of the hallway ever so slightly, and the little sunlight that made its way through the window made it easier to see the slight dusting of freckles on Logan’s nose and cheeks. All the sides had a tiny collection of freckles on their faces, Patton knew this, but still found that Logan’s were his favorite.

Logan’s eyes bore back at Patton as he blinked away his thoughts, his cheeks growing more red by the second, realizing how much he had been so obviously staring.

Suddenly, Patton felt sick again, completely destroying the warm, fuzzy feeling gathering in his chest the longer he gazed at Logan. Finally being compelled to move, Patton put a hand over his mouth, clutched his stomach, and frantically rushed past Logan, fully aware of the fact that he would most likely throw up upon closing his bedroom door.

And that’s exactly what he did.

Patton wasn’t proud of it in the slightest, he felt disgusted as he weakly fell onto his bed, knocking some stuffed animals off in the process, but he couldn’t bother enough to care.

He curled in on himself, unsure if he should cry or not. Would it matter? Logically, no, but Patton didn’t feel like thinking logically at the moment, so he decided to force his tears back for now.

The taste in his mouth was gross and even though he had tried to wash it out, he could still taste the regret, guilt, and shame that came with it.

What kind of mess had Patton gotten himself into? He still wasn’t quite sure but his stomach churned and he felt as though he couldn’t, he shouldn’t move if he knew what was best for him.

The click of door opening alerted Patton to someone’s presence in the room, making him flinch, especially as the light flooded into the unusually dark room. Whoever had entered must have noticed Patton’s reaction and closed the door with another audible click, engulfing the room in darkness once again.

Patton had assumed that whoever it was, they had just peeked in to check in on him, however, that thought was immediately thrown out the window when he felt the bed dip as someone sat down beside him.

Curling in on himself more and clamping his eyes shut, Patton refused to turn around and look to see who had come to visit him, not that he even had the energy to do so anyway.

“Patton,” the voice said firmly but with soft undertones in their voice. They tried to set a hand on his shoulder but Patton flinched again and they backed off almost instantaneously.

Patton let out a shaky breath as he identified the voice to match that of Logan’s. Serious and almost monotone, yet somehow smooth and confident in everything he says. Patton enjoyed the sound of his voice to an almost unsettling degree, he wondered if it was weird to focus on someone’s voice so much, but cut that thought off before he could go much further.

“Patton,” Logan spoke again, this time keeping his touches away, understanding now that Patton wasn’t in the mood.

“Yes?” Patton answered hesitantly, his voice shaky and filled with fear.

“Are you alright?” He questioned, scanning Patton’s curled up body with a look of concern on his face evident.

Patton could feel Logan’s eyes on him, making him shiver, “No,” he blatantly answered, his voice small.

Logan hummed in response, “I see,” he said thoughtfully.

All Patton could think about was how much Logan was staring at him. It made his heart beat speed up again and his cheeks flush to a deep cherry red, similar to Roman’s sash, Patton noted, desperately trying to ground himself.

“Breathe,” Logan said simply, in that calming tone that Patton loved ever so much.

Patton breath hitched, “What?”

“Your heart rate has increased drastically upon me entering your room. At this rate, I fear you may begin to hyperventilate, I would like for you to breathe,” he explained smoothly, which almost made Patton melt, but he restrained himself.

Patton didn’t even have to look at Logan to be feeling breathless over how much he swept him off his feet. However, he forced out a shaky, “Okay,” and took a deep breath.

“Remember,” Logan began, his voice becoming softer, “In for four seconds, hold for seven seconds, out for eight seconds, repeat.”

He did as he was told, following along as Logan counted quietly, until Patton deemed his breathing steady enough.

Reluctantly, Patton slowly turned his head back to look at Logan, who stared back at him with uncharacteristically soft eyes and a small, contented smile.

Against Patton’s better judgement, he slowly rose from his lying position to wrap his arms around Logan and bury his face in his chest, breathing in his scent. He would berate himself for how weird that was later.

Logan let out a choked noise of surprise, not expecting the sudden contact, but welcoming it anyway, albeit hesitantly, still not used to it himself.

He returned the embrace, holding Patton close, however, he was unsure how long he could stay in the uncomfortable position, almost falling off Patton’s bed entirely.

“Patton,” Logan said again, firmly, trying to move away from the embrace.

Bashfully, Patton immediately let go and backed away, mumbling multiple apologies.

“I’m sorry, I—“

“No,” Logan immediately cut Patton’s apologizes off, causing Patton to squeak and clamp his mouth shut.

Without another word, Logan clambered further onto the bed and laid back on Patton’s pillows, gesturing for Patton to join him once more.

Patton blinked, then blinked again to hold back any tears threatening to fall. Without any hesitation this time, Patton gently laid down next to Logan, nuzzling his head back into his chest.

“No more talking for the moment, any necessary conversation may be had later, when you are feeling up to it,” Logan stated, lifting up a hand to run it through Patton’s brown locks of hair.

If you asked Logan about it later, he’d most definitely deny it though. However, it was enough for Patton to enjoy that warm, fuzzy feeling in his chest, if only for a little while.

#sanders sides #thomas sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #logicality

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evohealed · 4 years

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◀ STUDY: REX & NANITES ▶

Let me preface this by saying these are all thoughts and headcanons that have been building up over a long period of time. As of writing this post, it’s like 3 am, so beware spelling errors and stuff, and a bit disorganized in terms of structure. Buuut that’s how I roll, so ... Ready? Here we go~!

DO NOT REBLOG THIS.

So nanites. They’re in everything in the world of generator rex. Some have come to be incredibly dependant on them, and some try to reject them entirely. The world seems to still fear nanites bc they don’t know what all they can do or are capable of. Be it twisting other people’s DNA and mutating them, or what have you -- the facts are clear. Every living being has to come and learn to function with them. Now, most living things can function just fine if you remove or deactivate their nanites. They’ll just get reinfected by them anyways, they’re unavoidable; even if they replenish slowly, they usually come back. And you can survive without them entirely.

Unless you’re Rex Salazar.

Now, I know in the show they had Van Kleiss take his nanites a few times for drama’s sake, but if I have to be totally honest? I don’t buy that bullshit. It was just drama to be drama; we’re shown time and time again that Rex is essentially a fountain of beta nanites. On top of that, the nanites were said to have saved his life when he was young, and save his body and heal it on a regular basis. But I just ... cannot believe that Rex can survive long without the nanites. His body heavily relies on the nanites to regulate his bodily functions, they’re deeply ingrained into his body, and at this point, I’m convinced that all the injuries they heal are built out of nanites themselves. Kinda like .. replacement skin, an attempt at copying / regenerating the skin, I guess? There’s just no way his natural body / skin heals that fast on it’s own, even WITH nanites; the nanites can and will kill cells and make more just to help Rex out. It looks just like skin, it FEELS just like skin .. but is it actual skin? Nah. It’s probably like a synthetic replacement. Similar to that of 3D printed organs and prosthetics-- there’s even machines out there to make 3D printed flesh. Because, you know ... Rex’s body isn’t organic in it’s powers; even his healing of EVOs is a mechanical process, so there’s absolutely NO WAY that the way his body and organs heal from any injuries is organic. It’s much more calculating and more about machines and stuff. Though I do think when the nanites heal / construct scars and replacement flesh or organs, it’s slightly discolored; they also only exert themselves to do this for big wounds. He can still get scars, and the nanites give the illusion of scars when they heal his bigger wounds. So .. I dunno, I thought they could line up. Just a neat little food for thought there.

But if this is the case, then taking all his nanites could be absolutely deadly and bad for his health. I headcanon that the nanites can make changes to his body as they please; well, they do, all the time. One such side effect of this is turning his eyes from a deep natural brown to a pretty intense ruby red. Not really sure exactly why, but as a general hc, I think that whoever goes EVO has their eye color changed to something unnatural. But when you take away those nanites, his eyes are the regular ol’ chocolate brown. Now, why do I bring this up? Well, good question -- there’s a reason, and it’s kind of a creepy one. If his eyes revert to regular ol’ brown, what else can revert?

... That’s right. All the injuries they’ve patched up, with the synthetic / replacement skin made up of those essentially 3D printed nanite made prosthetics -- they’d likely start to deteriorate. At most, with all nanites completely removed, I’d give Rex a few hours tops ( like, maybe 2? 3? ) before everything they’ve fixed starts to just ... decay away or dissolve. All his old injuries are gonna be exposed, he might even DIE without it. Having his nanites stolen was a legitimately terrifying experience for him, because he didn’t know what would happen without them -- but that’s what would happen. He was lucky he didn’t find out.

Anyways, aside from that AND moving on... we know Rex is an endless fountain of blue beta nanites. However, we often see him healing yellow nanites, and we’ve seen wwhat happens when he has too many unstable yellow nanites in his body. Why DOES his body react this way?

The answer to it is honestly mildly horrifying.

On their own, his nanites attatch themselves to the unstable ones to pull them into Rex’s own body. That’s how he “heals” EVOs; however, they can always get reinfected by nanites again. He has to have specific offloading stations just to get the excess active nanites outta him, and it’s an INCREDIBLY dangerous process to do so. The locations at which his nanites are to be offloaded are EXTREMELY remote for a reason; one wrong step, and the whole facility could literally explode from how his nanites are and react. That little tangent aside, why do the excess nanites do this to him? Why is it so excruciating and painful for him? Why is it such a flighty process? Well, you see, Rex’s nanites don’t actually turn off the unstable yellow ones. Again, what they do is ABSORB other nanites, unless they’re so unstable Rex’s can’t do a damn thing to them -- that is, they’re mutated too far and flighty, therefore rendering them as incurables ( i.e. circe, cricket, skwydd, tuck, quarry ... you get the gist. ).

Rex just so happens to have a bad habit of waiting to off load his nanites before it’s too late or just before the above happens. He’s stubborn and he will push himself to limits he really shouldn’t because Providence forces him to. So when he overloads, too many yellow nanites in them, where do they go? ... haha, trick question! They don’t have anywhere to go. So you know what happens then? They resort to something extremely painful.

They stretch and solidify Rex’s skin against his will, because all the yellow nanites are trying to basically escape his body. It twists and pulses his flesh into and out of metal, as if it can’t decide where it wants to exit, and that’s precisely what it’s doing! They wanna rip outta Rex’s flesh prison, but they have no space to go to .. so they MAKE the space as best as they can. It’s why his flesh gets so baggy and turns to practically folds of metal or whatever when he overloads. It’s excruciating because he can feel the skin stretching and solidifying, and all of his senses are going haywire as if the nanites are tryina exit his body like that one parasite from an alien movie. You know the one. big pop culture reference and all. The reason they stop when he’s put to sleep, however, is because the nanites focus on his brain waves while he’s awake to make activity. If he’s asleep, so are they; they can’t be active if he’s not fully concious.

Which reminds me ... his nanites? Definitely have a mind of their own. His nanites can and will forcefully take over his body when he’s concious to talk as him or make him do stuff, and we’ve seen it happen several times -- it’s horrifying each time, really, but you can kinda interfere and hack into them to converse or have them build machines. They can and will attack any bad cells or anything they deem unnecessary to Rex’s body; it’s likely they don’t want their vessel to come to harm, so they have taken it upon themselves to protect Rex’s body for him on numerous occasions. I believe thiis is the same reason they won’t let Rex’s body die and forcefully revive him. Yeah, the life and fate of Rex are iin their hands, and they’re not letting him die anytime soon.

Rex has mentioned he’s been able to hear the nanites talking before and that he can talk to them; this leads me to believe they’re kinda more like.. micro aliens, yknow? Oh, and by the way... You can literally talk to the nanites if you want to. It’s a little difficult to catch them but it IS possible when they forcefully take over Rex’s body to do whatever they please. More on this later, but .. you can have conversations w them and everything. Rex just won’t know it or remember it bc he totally blacks out when they take over. So yeah.

Anyyywayyys. that’s all my thoughts and dumps on nanites for now -- might come back and add more later, but lemme know what y’all thought.

#◀ Well my heart is gold and my hands are cold ▶ ( character study )#here's something i've been wanting to write for a Very Long TIme #hope you guys like it #u-u #tw: body horror

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crownedcupcake17 · 4 years

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Round 3- Zoë vs Lana

Wherever she went, Zoё was the loudest one in the room, even when she didn’t speak a word. Her personality boomed so big that it was almost suffocating to stand too close to her. Energy was always cracking around her and the girl never stopped moving. You couldn’t lose Zoё, thats was a fact that her classmates had begun to depend on. No matter what the situation was, Zoё would be there with her larger than life smile to crack a joke or just be a piller to fall on. As the students made their way through the tunnel, Zoё was there, helping them along. She gave energy to the kids like Yameru who needed it desperately after the attack, she helped carry students, she kept up her smile, no one noticing how she started to lag farther and farther behind the group as the hours passed. By the end of the walk, Zoё was struggling to stand. By that point, Hotaru had taken notice of her struggling friend and had offered the other girl a shoulder to lean on and helped her get onto the bus.

The bus ride was jarring for the students, to say the least. For the first time since the school year had started, Zoё went silent. No feeling of something big right behind, not hushed humming, not even the subtle buzz of energy was present on the bus. For the egrokenetic’s classmates who had grown accustomed to the constant white noise, the silence was unbearable. After hours of keeping up her persona for the good of her scared and hurt classmates, Zoё broke, and they had to witness it. One by one, the students noticed the labored breath from the back of the bus and, when the checked to see what was wrong, saw the worry building in Hotaru’s eyes as Zoё’s condition steadily worsened.

In the back of the bus sat the girl in question, curled up in a ball against the window and ever so slightly shaking, her eyes glazed over and unfocused. Her breath was shallow, the air entering her body in rapid gulps, and her knuckles white as she dug her fingers into her one arms. She couldn’t see what was outside the window, couldn’t hear the engine below her seat or feel the steel grip on her arms that would surely leave bruises.

She was falling, zooming through the air unable to stop herself, unable to stop them, unable to protect her family, unable to save her friends. Everything was burning around her, the fire too wild to control, every gasp for air only brought more smoke into her lungs as she held her ground against the man towering infront of her “Yukino can you hear me?” with her arms out to shield the little ones behind her, she could hear the screaming from behind the villain, screaming from the scared kids she’d been unable to save, but her arm was torn open “ Zoё?” and she could feel the conscious seap from her head as she began falling, “ Take deep breaths okay?” falling, falling, falling, “ Copy Me” falling, failing, failing, failing them- “ In and out Zo, just like that”

Slowly but surely, the ergokenetic’s breathing began to even out as she unconsciously followed the breathing of the person in front of her. As Zoё’s senses came back to her, it became clear that Hotaru had been the one helping her. Not touching, but close enough to feel the heat coming off the other girl’s body. The fog slowly receded as Zoё was walked through the tail end of the attack, following breathing and letting her body settled.

The Navy haired girl let her head slump onto Hotaru’s shoulder, letting the hours of pounding adrenaline and panic finally reside. Heat enveloped Zoё’s body and she knew her eyelids had grown to heavy. She laid on Hotaru’s shoulder, the feeling of warmth and safety lulling her tired body until she succumbed to sleep.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

For the second time that day, Zoё’s mind unfogged to the sound of Hotaru’s voice. As the ergokinetic let her eyes adjust to the bright light streaming in from the window, she caught the tail end of what her friend had been saying

“-ived about 5 minutes ago and everyone’s getting off the bus” Hotaru said in a quiet voice. Letting out a yawn, the still half asleep girl stood and gave her friend a small smile.

“ Well then ‘Taru, lead the way”

Soon enough, everyone was off the bus and standing in front of Yuuei. Zoё, although far better, was still slightly leaning on Hotaru for support as she watched the rest of her friends stare at the hero school in awe. The navy haired girl gave a faint smile.

“ Yuuei really lives up to it’s reputation, Huh ‘Taru?” She turned to look at her friend

Hotaru nodded “ It really, really does”. Zoё nodded then peaked up, as if hearing something in the distance. After a second, she let out a snort and the other girl gave her an odd look, almost offended. The Ergokinetic quickly shook her hands, a grin breaking across her face.

“ No! No, I'm not laughing at you Taru-Chan! I just realized that i’m probably about to die!” She said in a cheery voice.

Before Hotaru could question that franky worrying statement, especially from someone who had just recovered from a panic attack, two loud screams pierced the air.

“ ZOCHAN!”

“ZOË”

The students quickly zero in one the source of the shouts and see three girls running towards them, all wearing Yuuei uniforms. The three quickly reach the group where they split off, Zoё not having long to worry about Inoue being body slammed by the tall girl before she was tackled by the other two students. Her body hit the floor with a thud as the two other girls landed on top of her.

Disoriented and out of breath, Zoё spoke “ Hoshi, Moka, you’re crushing my lungs here”. The two immediately pushed off her, the taller of the two wearing a sheepish grin, the other wearing some amalgamation of panic, fear, relief, and concern across her face. Said girl reached out both her hands, laying them on the shoulders of the girl under her.

“You’re okay, right Zo?” She said in a quivering voice. A flash of understanding crossed Zoё’s eyes as she let her forehead meet that of the girl in front of her.

“ Yeah Momoka, I’m okay” the second the words left her mouth, Momoka lunged forward, wrapping Zoё in a bone crushing hug, and began to sob. She felt another pair of arms snake around he back as the taller girl fell to her knees alongside the other two, resting her chin of the Ergokenetic’s shoulder

“ She hasn’t eaten anything since news broke of the attack, hasn’t spoken a word either” Guilt flashed across Zoё’s face “ God Zo, we’ve been so scared, no one knew what had happened to you guys. We- we can’t lose you” the girl sniffed.

“ I really am sorry Hoshimi, I was running on pure adrenaline. I can’t imagine what bad memories this must have brought up’ The navy girl sighed. Hoshimi mumbled an “it’s okay” into her shoulder and that was that. Zoё let herself be hugged by her friends, let herself feel safe. She let Momoka let out her tears and she let Hoshimi clutch her. She let herself sit.

After a while, she tapped both of their shoulders, indicating she wanted to stand. And the three helped each other to their feet. Once they were all up, she dragged the two over to meet her class with a smile.

“ Guys, meet Momoka and Hoshimi, some of my closest friends! Momoka and Hoshimi, meet my classmates” she called, pushing the two infront of her. The girls introduced themselves and Zoё was satisfied watching her oldest friends meet her newest.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The students were quickly let into the school and led to gym Gamma and, after killing a few plants for their energy, Zoё found herself almost back to full strength by the time they arrived. As the students got themselves situated, Zoё took the chance to slide up to Momoka

“ Moka, you think i could crash in my old room until this mess is all finished, or is another kid already there?” She whispered, not wanting her classmates to overhear what she deemed a private conversation. The blond girl though for a moment before nodding back with a small smile.

“ Your room is still empty Zo, don't worry. We, thankfully, haven't had any new kids since you and Lyra found Natsu, so not much has changed other than me and Hoshi taking on your workload. The little ones should be excited to see you though, and cap’in will probably have you on a patrol or two while you back” Zoё pumped her fists, Momoka laughing at the display, before she was called over to the center of the room by Ameko. Waving goodbye, she quickly joined the growing group of students.

As principal Laccadaisy told the students of the spar, Zoё started to feel excited. After so much pent up energy, the option of an outlet was like a godsend. After much begging, Hoshimi and Momoka were also allowed to stay to watch their friend fight. As Zoё walked towards the dressing rooms with her hero costume, she smiled. There would be time for catching up later, right now, she wanted to fight.

The navy haired girl opened the case holding her costume and squealed. The outfit was a one piece leotard with a halter neck. The whole outfit was mostly a dark pink that matched the girls eyes and held gold and black accents. She had arm and leg pads, both designed to prevent floor burn. Finishing the outfit off, her right thigh had a sheath for her dagger. As Zoё walked back to the gym, she felt strong. Her whole costume was exactly what she wanted, to a T, and it made her feel like she could take on the world. She stepped into the makeshift sparing right and pushed all the worry that had consumed her in the past day out of her head as she took a fighting stance.

Her opponent was one Ogura Svetlana or, as Ameko called her, Lana. The girl had grey skin and purple, floating hair. With long ears, horns, and a tail, the girl looked like a gargoyle. If Zoё remembered correctly, the girl’s quirk let her teleport, meaning the fight would be mostly hit and run.

The second they were singled to fight, Zoё flew forwards towards Lana, hoping if she was fast enough, she could catch her off guard. Unfortunately, the gray skinned girl predicted this moment and disappeared the second before Zoё’s outstretched hand made contact with her torso. Moments later, she reappeared behind the ergokinetic, sending a swift kick to the small of her back. With the wind knocked out of her, Zoё toppled to the floor.

Lana took this opportunity to try and pin the gasping girl, not noticing her opponent's hand itching to the blade on her leg. Although dull, the dagger strapped to Zoё’s thigh could still hurt enough to give the wielder the opening they needed. Lighting fast, the navy haired girl wiped her dagger up and into Lana’s side. The impact weakened her grip and Zoё was able to flip their positions.

As soon as she had the other girl pined, The Ergokinetic sapped her energy. With her opponent immobilized, Zoё was quickly named the winner. As soon as she was standing, the girl returned Lana’s stolen energy and offered her a hand.

“Sorry about that Ogura-San, need a hand” She smiled. The purple haired girl took her offer and the two stood next to each other. Before they could talk for longer, Zoё was called over by her friends, after a small bow, she jogged over to Momoka and Hoshimi who both congratulated her on the win.

As the matches continued, the ergokinetic found her way next to Laccasdaisy and Eraserhead with the other two girls in tow. After another round of begging, Zoё was given permission to stay at her old home, as long as she spent the first two nights on the campus of Yuuei incase of more attacks. If none accrued, she would be allowed to leave. Satisfied with this answer, the three girls went back to watching the matches.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Two days later saw Zoё, Hoshimi, and Momoka on a train bound for Semboku. After nearly four hours, they exited the train and, after another half hour of walking, were standing in front of a long, traditional japanese house. The doors flung open and Zoё was met with cheers and hugs. Wrapped in the warmth of her family, the navy haired girl had one single though

It was good to be home.

~~~~

And there it is!! Hope you all enjoyed my round 3!! @taiyuu-high-oct

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