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eiightysixbaby · 1 year

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blue raspberry syrup

(part 2 to sunscreen and chlorine)

word count: 3.9k

pairing: lifeguard!eddie x fem!reader

summary: a second meeting with your favorite lifeguard after pool hours… what will you get into this time?

cw: 18+ ONLY MINORS DNI - SMUT. oral (m receiving), eddie watches reader get herself off, unprotected p in v, creampie, sex in a public place (they’re alone tho), use of pet names, temperature play

author’s note: here she is, finally! hope i did part one justice with this sequel, let me know what y’all think!!

Milky twilight began to fall over the community pool, the sunset casting orange and lilac reflections on the surface of the water. Fireflies flickered on and off in the grass beyond the fence, communicating in their own way. Meanwhile, Eddie busied himself with any task he could think of as he waited for you to return. He took out the trash, cleaned the disgusting bathrooms, washed his hands ten times afterwards, closed all the umbrellas positioned between lounge chairs. Billy had been the last one to leave at 7:30, telling Eddie he ‘better not pull anymore bullshit tomorrow’, and now Eddie finds himself taking a well deserved quick swim in the pool, cooling himself off after a scorcher of a day. One half of the water, the deeper end, is concealed by the pool cover, Eddie having left the shallower end open for use. He submerges himself underwater, propelling himself forward and then coming up to the surface, shaking his hair wildly like a dog. He pulls himself out of the water, hands flat on the concrete as he pushes his body up and out. His swim trunks drip the chlorinated water all around his feet, hitting the pavement in loud droplets. Drying himself off with a towel, he sees headlights pull into the parking lot, hears faint music playing from the car radio. You step out of your car and catch his eye, giving him a wave - the same little delicate wave you directed at him when he first saw you lounging by the pool earlier that day. You have a towel tucked under your arm, and another popsicle in your left hand. Eddie’s head swirls with delight.

You’d been antsy all afternoon after your shower session with Eddie, pacing back and forth around your room at home just trying to distract yourself. The minutes seemed to drag, moving slow like thick honey as you waited for your next meeting time with the lifeguard that made your heart pound. You’d showered and slipped on a different bathing suit, the other one being damp and cold and reeking of chemical water. You forced yourself to gain some sense of composure as you stepped out of your car after arriving back at the pool, unwilling to let Eddie know just how much he’d occupied your brain the last several hours. He beams at you from behind the painted metal fence and you feel butterflies take flight in your stomach.

“You and those damn popsicles,” he laughs, opening the gate to the pool to let you in, still towel drying his hair.

You held the frozen snack at your side, still in the crinkly white wrapper. You try to bite back a smile but ultimately fail. The squeaky metal gate closes behind you, Eddie positioning the latch into place with a clink.

“Thought you liked it, don’t tell me you’re gonna complain if you have to watch me eat another,” you look up at him innocently with round eyes, batting your lashes for effect.

Eddie just rolls his eyes, giving you a dismissive wave as he walks with you towards the water. The heat has dissipated slightly with the gradual nightfall, the intense glare of the sun now faded into a subtle wink. Crickets chirp in the grass, filling the night with sound, a lullaby coaxing the town to sleep. He finds himself sick with adoration as he looks at you, looking so effortlessly perfect. An oversized t-shirt covering you down to your mid-thigh, concealing the swimsuit underneath - he can see where it ties at the back of your neck. You wear white flip flops on your feet, toenails painted a bright shade of purple. The backs of the shoes clap clap clap as you step towards the pool, Eddie’s bare feet padding silently next to them. You lay your striped beach towel down onto the concrete, next to the pool’s edge. Eddie watches your every movement, his heart pounding in his chest. He wants to touch you, to taste you, to feel you all over him.

You sit on your towel, leaning your head to the side to glance up at Eddie. “Well, Munson? What kind of lessons do you have for me?” you ask playfully, itching to get his hands on you.

There’s a pause as Eddie thinks. His eyes trail to the still wrapped popsicle, and then back to you. His face twists into a devious grin. He sits so he’s facing you, legs spread as he gently pulls you to sit between them. He pulls you in for a kiss, forcing back the moan that threatens to break free at the mere contact with your lips. He hears you sigh into him, hands coming up to cup his face. Soft lips move against even softer ones, tongues searching the inside of cheeks eagerly. Your hands tangle in his damp hair, cold droplets covering your skin. When he finally pulls away, he admires your kiss swollen lips, rubbing the pad of his thumb across the bottom one. He picks up the popsicle, slowly working the wrapper off of it, and you eye him curiously.

Eddie holds the stick of the popsicle with one hand, other hand gripping your jaw, pulling your mouth open gently.

“Stick your tongue out, baby,” he murmurs, watching you intently as you oblige.

He presses the popsicle to your tongue, prompting you to suck it past your lips. You take only a little bit into your mouth at first, and Eddie doesn’t seem pleased. He tsks at you, lips forming a slight frown.

“Surely you can take more than that, sweetheart,” he coos, his eyes steady as they observe you.

He pushes the popsicle further past your plush lips, enjoying the way you let it all happen without protest. Less and less of the blue tinted ice is visible the further he coaxes it into your mouth, and your eyes tear up a little as it reaches the back of your throat. The muscles tense, making you gag a little.

“That’s right, honey, choke on it for me. You were such a good girl gagging on my dick earlier, you can handle this too, right?” his voice is almost patronizing, yet it sends shockwaves right to your core, wetness beginning to pool in your bathing suit bottoms.

You pull away for a moment, suddenly the cotton shirt on your body is too much, too heavy on you. You pull it over your head hastily, setting it beside you before turning to face Eddie once more. You open your mouth, sticking your tongue out for him, prompting him to keep going. Eddie groans as you eagerly suck the popsicle, taking all that he gives you without complaint. He pulls it from your mouth suddenly, a soft slurping sound forming as you gather the sticky sweet juice from dripping past your lips. Without warning, Eddie puts the treat in his mouth, blue raspberry syrup coating his tongue. You feel a persistent throbbing between your thighs, watching his sloppy tongue lick remnants of your saliva off of blue ice. It’s not what you expected him to do, but you’ll be damned if you don’t find it fucking hot. He looks at you with heavy lidded eyes, sucking slow on the popsicle, driving you crazy.

You can’t take the teasing anymore, needing more of him, and you grab the popsicle from his hand. You lean into his personal space, getting him to lean back on flat palms. He watches you silently, hears his heartbeat in his ears as you suck the popsicle into your mouth once more, proceeding to pull it back out and kiss his neck with cold lips. He shudders, gasping when you press your cold tongue flat to his warm flesh, licking and nipping at the thin skin. You travel down his body like that, taking a lick of your frozen treat, then putting cold lips and tongue on Eddie’s skin, sucking hickeys into his chest. For the first time, you notice he has a nipple piercing. Just one, two silver balls resting on either side of puckered skin. The metal seems to gleam for you, calling you in. You take it into your mouth, icy tongue teasing the skin and tasting metal. Eddie whimpers, laughing a little when you pull away.

“Just now noticing that, honey?” he asks, pretty teeth on display for you as he smiles.

“I like it,” you reply easily, licking flat across his nipple once more before continuing your journey down.

Eddie knows where this is going, and his body practically vibrates with anticipation. Goosebumps break out on his skin as your mouth finds its way beneath his belly button, mouth kitten licking and kissing over his happy trail. He thinks he may die when you hook your fingers in the waistband of his swim trunks, coolly sucking on your popsicle all the while, getting your mouth nice and cold for him. His dick throbs, begging for attention. You coax the damp fabric down his legs, his cock springing free, curving towards his tummy. Before Eddie can even register it, your mouth engulfs him, cold tongue licking his shaft. Eddie tenses, throwing his head back and letting out a puff of air at the new sensation. A thin ribbon of saliva connects your bottom lip to the head of his cock when you start to pull away, licking up and down the popsicle again, tongue turning more blue with each swipe of it. You suck on the head of Eddie’s weeping cock, hollowing your cheeks out as he moans your name, fingers tangling in your hair. His cock practically aches, every cold press of your mouth against it has his breath catching in his throat, strangled moans escaping his pretty lips. He lets you work your magic for a while bobbing your head up and down, rolling his balls between your fingers.

The popsicle starts to melt where it rests in your free hand, and Eddie takes it from you, sucking on it while you suck on him. You pull off of his cock with a quiet pop, and Eddie grabs your chin, urging you up towards him. He kisses you hungrily, two blue tongues swirling around one another. Eddie stifles a groan, you taste like artificial berries and him and it’s turning him on even more. He’s not gonna let you have him so easily though, oh no, he’s gonna give you a taste of the teasing you gave him earlier. Just as he has you whimpering for him, he pulls away. He walks over to the trash can, bare feet on gritty pavement, tossing the remnants of the popsicle away. Turning back to face you, a grin spreads across his face and he goes running straight for the pool, completely naked, landing in the water with a huge splash. He comes back up for air with a gasp, hair sticking to his forehead.

“Eddieeeeee,” you whine between giggles, toes dangling into the water, watching him as he paddles around. “Need you,” you pout at him. “Now you’re being a tease.”

Your pussy throbs beneath skimpy bikini bottoms, so desperate for him to fill you. You can still taste him in your mouth, briny pre cum lingering in the back of your throat, and you chew on your lip in anticipation.

Eddie looks at you for a moment as he bobs in the water, arms splayed over his rescue tube that he snatched from beside the pool, keeping him effortlessly afloat. He has to hold back a devious laugh when he gets an idea. He paddles closer to the ledge where you sit, pulling the safety equipment from under his arms, holding it out to you.

“Show me how bad you need me, baby. Why don’t you ride that, and pretend it’s me,” he smirks at you, only growing more satisfied when you fail to form words in response, your mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.

“Go ahead, honey, don’t be all shy now. Grind on it,” Eddie commands, gesturing for you to get on with it.

You delicately wrap your fingers around the safety equipment, GUARD written in bulky white block letters on the side. You straddle the rubbery red tube, one end of the object brushing against your clothed clit as you position yourself. An involuntary moan escapes your lips even at the minimal contact, and Eddie huffs a laugh, face sickeningly smug. Your face heats up instantly, suddenly ten times more aware of his eyes on you, like a specimen under a microscope. Your eyebrows knit together in concentration as you find a comfortable rhythm, riding the slippery material in desperation, dying to soothe the heat between your thighs. Pitiful mewls escape your lips, and Eddie raises his eyebrows at you.

“Oh, feels good, huh?” Eddie says, his tone mocking.

You want to reply with something witty, don’t want to give in this easy, but your core aches and pleads for more. Instead you whimper, wiggling your hips lower to rub across the tube, material dragging underneath your clit. The friction is so good, your hands grabbing desperately at the flat pavement beneath you, seeking purchase on anything and failing to find it. Your hips have found a steady pace, grinding against the spongey edge of the object, hair falling in your face with your head hung low. You moan his name and Eddie instinctively reaches down to palm at his hard cock. He shouldn’t be enjoying this as much as he is, but all he can think about is how he’s going to be using that same equipment during his shift tomorrow, keeping this little secret all to himself. Your cheeks are flushed with arousal yet also a slight twinge of embarrassment as Eddie watches you come undone on a fucking rescue buoy, pretending it’s his muscular thigh you’re riding. You soak the material beneath you as your legs tremble, glancing up at Eddie with pouty lips, silently pleading for him to have his way with you.

“Fuck, honey,” Eddie murmurs, reaching up from the water to brush hair out of your face. “Get in here with me, take everything off,” his eyes are dark as they watch you, standing up on shaky legs.

You shuffle out of your swimsuit bottoms, untying the straps on your top and letting it drop to the ground. You ease yourself into the water, cold touching every inch of your sun soaked skin as you lower your body in. Your feet touch the smooth bottom of the pool, water rising up to your breasts, making you shiver. Eddie pulls you to his chest immediately, naked bodies radiating warmth onto each other in the cool chlorinated liquid surrounding you. Darkness seems to have crept further in now, like a blanket shielding your naked bodies from the rest of the world, keeping these secrets for you. Eddie brushes your hair to one side, kissing and licking at your neck as his hands find their way to the globes of your ass, squeezing.

“Need to fuck you, baby, right here,” he says, voice muffled slightly as he presses kisses to your shoulder.

“You’re sure no one will catch us, right?” you breathe out, voice wavering slightly as his lips tickle your skin.

“It’s just you and me, honey. No one will catch us. Promise,” he’s pulled away from you, looking you straight in the eye so you take him seriously.

And he’s telling the truth. The cops make their rounds nightly, stopping by the pool at 10:30pm on the nose every. single. night. Eddie knows this partly because of several almost-busted drug deals he’s attempted to host late at night in the pool parking lot, and partly from stories he’s heard from other people who’ve tried to have late night swims in private. Given the fact that their whole goal is to catch people doing illegal things, the cops have really become far too predictable, doing their routine runs and making the same stops in the same order over and over. Eddie chuckles to himself as he thinks of this, pulling you even closer to him, giddy with the promise of more time alone with you.

He lifts you slightly and you instantly wrap your legs around his waist. He dips his head down, sucking one of your nipples into his mouth as his hands toy with the fat of your ass. His mouth sucks bruises into the skin around your breasts, teeth biting at the skin just for his tongue to soothe it afterwards. You can feel his cock pressing against you and you squirm in Eddie’s grip, aching to be full of him. His blunt fingernails dig into your skin where he grips you, mouth finding its way up your neck and to your ear, leaving kisses in its wake.

“Want me to fill you up, honey?” his voice rasps in your ear, cold wet hair tickling the side of your face.

“Y-yeah, fuck,” you inhale sharply as he sucks on your earlobe, pulling it gently between his teeth.

He pins you against the side of the pool, your legs still wrapped around him as he attempts to line himself up with your entrance. You finally feel him slip in, both of you letting out heavy sighs at the feeling. You swear you can feel him in your guts by the time he’s fully inside you, and your body feels like it’s going to short circuit from sheer pleasure. He bucks up into you, teeth biting hard on his bottom lip, brows furrowed as he concentrates on making you feel good. Water ripples around you with every movement, sloshing gently around your partially submerged bodies. Your fingernails claw at the soft skin of his back, sure to leave scratches on the otherwise empty canvas. Eddie’s barely keeping himself together as he fucks you, his pace less brutal than round one in the shower, but you feel too good around him and he finds it hard to will himself not to cum so soon. You’re so tight around him, so warm, and every time your muscles clench he’s cursing under his breath. You lean your head forward, resting it on his shoulder, incredibly grateful for Eddie’s tight grip on you - your body is far too overwhelmed with pleasure to focus on keeping yourself upright, limbs feeling like jello. Eddie’s hips snap into you with a particularly rough thrust, the tip of his cock hitting your sweet spot in just the right way, and you bite down on his shoulder to muffle a cry.

“Right there, baby? Y’like that?” Eddie’s voice is low and hovering just above your ear, sending a shiver right down your spine.

“Feels so good, love when you fuck me Eddie,” you moan, and god Eddie swears he could die from the sound of you saying his name alone.

He continues to plow into you at just the right angle, hands fighting to keep their grip on your ass, skin growing slippery from the water. You’re close, Eddie can tell by the way your breathing is staggered and your eyes are pinched shut, his name tumbling out of your mouth in barely coherent strings.

“E-Eddie, ‘m so close,” you whimper, confirming his suspicions.

“Me too, honey, fuck,” Eddie’s panting, hips faltering slightly in their movements as he pushes his body through water.

“Wanna ride you, Eddie, please,” you beg him, and he pulls out of you almost instantly, hoisting himself out of the pool.

“Come on then, baby, what’re you waiting for?” he smirks, laying back onto your towel, the thin layer of fabric easing the roughness of laying on pavement.

You follow him out of the pool, water dripping everywhere as you straddle his lap on shaky knees. You sink down onto his cock, hips falling into the same rhythm they’d had on Eddie’s rescue gear earlier, this time feeling so enticingly full. Eddie groans as your gooey walls envelope him, gripping onto your waist to ground himself. Heat pools in the pit of your stomach once again as you rock yourself on top of him, the new angle stretching you in different ways. You bring a tentative hand down to rub circles on your clit, the sensitive bud begging for more attention. Eddie can’t help himself, he starts rutting up into you, trying to match your pace. He’s right on the edge of bliss but determined to get you there first, pushing himself as deep inside of you as he’ll go. He’s sick with lust as he watches you ride him, delirious with the way your tits bounce with every jolt of your body.

“Gonna cum, Eddie, don’t stop,” you warn, fingers moving quicker on your clit, brows furrowed in concentration.

“Not planning on it, sweetheart,” Eddie grunts, driving into you again and again as you squirm on top of him.

A few more thrusts from him and you feel the rope finally snap, hunched over Eddie’s body as you come undone around him. Your chest heaves as you work through your high, walls fluttering harshly around Eddie’s throbbing length. You feel like your bones turned to mush as Eddie keeps bucking his hips into you, your limbs tingling with the overstimulation of it all. You press chaste kisses to his neck as his moans grow louder, biting and licking at his skin before he finally reaches release. He paints your insides for what feels like forever, loosening his grip on your sides when he’s finally done.

“Shit, honey. Milked me fuckin’ dry,” Eddie laughs, breathing heavy with exertion.

You giggle as you slowly pull off of him, a mix of your release and his leaking out of you, sliding slowly down your thighs. Eddie sits up beside you and you pull him in for a lazy kiss, sloppy lips on lips and tongues peeking out to greet each other. Pulling away, Eddie glances over at the clock hanging on the wall near the locker rooms. It reads just about 10 o’clock. He huffs a sad sigh as he turns back to you.

“We should probably get going, baby. Cops usually show up pretty soon,” Eddie stands, holding a hand out to help you up as well.

You stick out your bottom lip in a pitiful pout as you rise from your sitting position, earning a laugh from Eddie.

“Wish we could just stay here all night,” your pout persists as your press your palms to his chest, scrunching your nose when he kisses it.

“Trust me, honey, you’ll be seeing more of me. No way you’re getting rid of me now,” Eddie chews on the inside of his cheek, attempting to suppress his smirk.

You wait for him by the gate as he covers the rest of the pool and puts his equipment in his locker, admiring every stride his long legs take, thin frame lit up only by the light of the moon and the subtle glow of the flickering lamps in the parking lot. He jogs over to you, kissing you sweetly as his hands unlatch the gate behind you, metal scraping on metal as it opens. He walks you to your car, shaggy wet curls falling over his shoulders as he leans through the window to give you one more kiss goodnight. You pull a pen from your glovebox, writing your phone number in blue ink on his wrist, then kissing the back of his hand before letting him go. He keeps looking over his shoulder at you as he walks to his beat up van, giving you a little wave as you pull out of your parking spot.

Almost as soon as you get home, your phone rings - and you have a feeling it might be one particular lifeguard you know.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem!reader #lifeguard!eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic

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scoops-aboy86 · 18 days

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Your Smile Is My Favorite

Prompt Used: Summer reading (@thehairandthebanished) and cheesy pickup lines (@softsteddieseptember) | Your Smile Is My Favorite | Rating: T | CW: mild body image issues | Additional Tags: chubby Steve Harrington, gay Eddie Munson, pining, bizarre communication through intricate pickup line rituals, Robin loves these two idiots

I wrote most of this while on a 11 hour car trip, I’ll post it to ao3 later. 🥱 Still the 4th in my time zone though!

It’s hard to stay absorbed in a book when Steve Harrington is swimming laps in his little red shorts, but Eddie is managing.

Sort of. Kinda.

Okay, not really. Or at all.

But he’s read Return of the King so many times before that he can fill in any paragraphs his eyes accidentally skim over from memory, so it’s fine. And he definitely rolled high on stealth by being smart enough to bring sunglasses, because Middle Earth has nothing on his view of Steve’s chest while the guy does the backstroke.

Earlier in the summer Steve would have been poolside with Eddie and Robin, sprawled out in the sun snacking on pizza and chips with them and letting Eddie draw him into their umpteenth debate on which is better, Coca Cola or Mountain Dew. Now he’s going at it in the pool like he has something to prove, or diving in over and over while complaining about his form.

Which, Eddie thinks, is a very fine form indeed. He’s thickened up some since their harrowing adventures last Spring Break, transformed from merely good-looking to downright beefy in a way that makes Eddie’s mouth water and fingers twitch with the urge to rake through that tantalizing chest hair, test the give of Steve’s deliciously softer pecs and stomach. It’s starting to become a problem.

As if Aragorn, son of Arathorn, would have an easier time concentrating on a book about the Party’s adventures if Arwen were parading around in front of him while scantily clad, Eddie thinks, trying to make himself feel like a little bit less of a pining loser.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” Robin says, sounding bored from the next lounge chair over. She hasn’t even looked up from her own book.

Eddie considers protesting. He could; they’ve never actually discussed the way they’d clocked each other as queer during Spring Break, he has plausible deniability.

Instead, he says, “Got a camera you can loan me, Birdie?”

She snorts, sliding her bookmark into place as she turns towards him on her lounger. “No, but now that we’re talking about it, can we talk about how your crush is visible from, like, space?”

“He is not!” The protest tumbles out of him before Eddie even thinks about it, and his cheeks immediately flare red under layers of sunblock. It’s not like Robin would talk about the way her platonic soulmate had recently put on some extra weight like that, Eddie is just a moron. Well, he’ll just have to blow past it and pretend he’d been… bluffing about his crush not being Steve. Yeah. “Uh, I mean. Fuck, I’m not being too obvious, am I?”

Robin’s grin is smug, and definitely a little bit at his expense. “Not really. You’re super easily distracted when there’s more people around, so the kids haven’t picked up on it yet.” She glances back at the pool and the expression softens to amused affection. “It’s written all over your face right now, but I’m pretty sure dingus over there has this fixed idea about your type being all dark clothes and leather and tattoos. He’ll never figure it out on his own, completely hopeless.”

That’s a relief to hear. Eddie relaxes beneath the shade of his poolside umbrella, glances down at his book again…

And snaps it shut and scrunches up on his side to face her too. He’ll be able to find his place again later, more or less. The occasional splashes of Steve reaching one side of the pool and flipping around to swim back fades into the background for the first time all day in the face of this new, unexplored conversational territory.

“So,” he says matter-of-factly. Because he’s reconciled with this a long time ago: Robin has literally helped save his life a number of times, she’s safe. “Clearly you’ve got me all figured out. And there’s no way you could be around that all the time and still get anything done without being… oppositely inclined.”

She nods, and the teeny tiny bit of him that had been braced just in case he was wrong relaxes. “Yeah. I don’t see the appeal, but I’ve literally seen a few girls walk into things when they catch sight of him.”

Eddie snickers, like the hypocrite slightly wired on nerves and relief that he is. Curbs, trash cans, the glass doors of Family Video… he’s been there, done that, and been forced to turn it into a bit so no one catches on to what all of those instances had in common. (Steve smiling at him. Steve looking at him. Just, Steve.)

“Not as many lately though,” Robin confides, a little sad. “Shallow bitches.”

“Shallow as hell,” Eddie agrees. One hundred percent. “They have no idea what they’re missing out on.”

“It’s taking a toll on him,” she continues. “You know, how his hair kinda deflates a little when he’s bummed out? Those great big puppy dog eyes come out and it’s all—” her voice drops in a possible Steve impression “—‘Is it me, Rob? What am I doing wrong?’”

Eddie huffs a wordless disagreement with that whole sentiment. Wrong with Steve? Wrong with Steve? There’s nothing wrong with Steve, in his opinion. Badass scars, heart of gold, hair of the gods, and a little more meat on his bones making him even more solid and dependable? Sign Eddie the fuck up.

Sure, there’s also the nightmares and a general jumpiness whenever the phone rings or lights flicker or a radio starts to crackle, but the same can be said of pretty much everyone in the Party, Eddie included. It’s perfectly understandable after everything they’ve been through, the number of times they’ve helped save the world.

“I think that’s why he’s leaning so hard into swimming again,” Robin adds. And even though she seems totally casual, there’s something… not pointed, exactly, but definitely not dull behind her words. She’s giving him a look that Eddie can’t figure out, because he just doesn’t have the same kind of in-tune-ness with her that she and Steve display on a regular basis, having conversations with nothing but stares, blinks, and funny eyebrow twitches.

He tries anyway. Even pushes his sunglasses up into his hair for a clearer look, but message not received. Frowning, he glances over his shoulder at the pool again. “Because he’s… upset about not going on dates lately?”

Not that Eddie had been paying attention or anything. Not that he’d daydreamed hopelessly a few times that it was because Steve was hung up on him, lingering a bit more than necessary when dropping off and picking up the kids on Hellfire days. Inviting Eddie to hangout days like this. Taking Eddie up on it whenever he offers to smoke the guy out, usually when they both have dark circles from sleeping poorly blooming under their eyes and everything about the no longer in peril world around them feels like too much. Springing for fast food whenever they get the munchies, since Eddie supplied the grass…

“Because he thinks there’s something wrong about him,” Robin corrects, “that he needs to work out.”

Oh. What—oh. Eddie blinks, reorients, and realizes that the thing he hadn’t been able to read before is concern. “But… he looks so good,” he says dumbly.

Steve is self-conscious about his weight? Oh no, that won’t do at all. Eddie’s mind is already racing through ways to reassure their friend that he looks great, fantastic, amazing, all the positive adjectives that he knows. He wants to build Steve up, make sure he knows that there are definitely people who would absolutely jump at the chance to be with him.

Or, you know, right here. Or something.

Splashing sounds draw his attention back to the pool, and it’s Steve wading up the shallow end towards them, apparently tired out for the time being. And Eddie… panics.

“Damn, Harrington,” he blurts out, “is it hot out here or is it just you?”

Which is. It’s. Something out of that terrible pickup lines book one of the Corroded Coffin guys found at a yard sale a few weeks ago—he can’t remember who exactly, maybe Jeff?—that they’d all howled over, reading the worst ones out loud in ridiculous voices. Why the hell is that what popped into his head?

Steve pauses with one foot still in the pool, squinting at him. “Uh… It’s definitely hot today. Are you… overheated or something? I could get you some ice water.”

“No, I’m good,” Eddie manages. And then, because he’s an idiot, he continues, “Have I told you lately that you’re very attractive? You must eat magnets for breakfast.”

He catches a glimpse of Robin out of the corner of one eye. For a second he hopes that she might step in and save him from himself, but nope; her face is frozen in a look of appalled fascination. No help coming from that quarter.

“I,” Steve starts, stepping the rest of the way out of the pool and putting both hands on his hips like he doesn’t know what else to do with them. “Dude, are you high?”

If only he were. The proximity of Steve’s naked, dripping wet chest and the gentle roll over the top of his swim trunks seems to have roughly the same effect on him though.

“Nope,” Eddie squeaks. His face feels incandescent, and he can’t even blame it on a sunburn. And still he opens his mouth again, because he’s already gone this far, might as well commit to the bit. “But we should smoke up later, sweetheart. I think weed be really good together.”

That one wasn’t from the book. It’s an Eddie Munson original. If death took him now, he would not hate it.

Steve looks to Robin, who shrugs and throws him a towel. He catches it and starts drying his hair, returning his attention to Eddie with a perplexed look. “Low blood sugar?” he asks, and it takes a second for Eddie to place that Steve is still trying to guess why he’s being so weird.

As if the Freak of Hawkins needs something so pedestrian as a reason.

“We can order pizza,” Robin suggests in a strangled voice. She’s trying so hard not to laugh, which is good. Probably.

Eddie can muster a little gratitude for that, right up until he opens his mouth again and “Oh, are you craving pizza? Because I’d love to get a pizz-a you” falls out.

… Maybe he does have low blood sugar. Or, like. A brain tumor or something.

Steve sends Robin another look, then shrugs and heads inside the house. Presumably to order pizza, and hopefully for Eddie’s sanity to put on a shirt.

As soon as the glass door slides shut behind him, Robin whips around and whisper yells, “What the hell was that?!”

Eddie throws himself back on his lounger and covers his face with both hands. “I don’t know. I wanted to cheer him up, make him feel good about himself or something, but—”

“And you thought hitting on him would do the trick? Very badly, I might add!”

“Oh, like you know anything about what works when hitting on dudes!” Eddie shoots back, even though she’s right. So very right. Cruelly correct, to a poor gay man who is suffering.

He rolls over on the chair, only putting a knee or elbow through the plastic straps beneath him a few times before flopping face down and tugging his own unused towel over his entire head. It’s almost restful under there. The lounger cradles his face a little too high because the back is still angled slightly up for, you know, lounging… and Return of the King is dry and solid under one shoulder, twisting his frame a little oddly, but other than that…

By the time Steve comes back outside, Eddie barely notices. He feels slow and drowsy from the heat, everything muffled by the towel. But he does hear a scrape over the concrete beneath him and cracks an eye open to peer through the gaps in the chair.

It’s a slice of pepperoni and extra cheese on a paper plate, positioned directly below his head, right where he can smell it.

Fuck, okay. He can’t not get up for food freely offered. It’s just not how Wayne raised him.

“There you are,” Steve says brightly when Eddie emerges and resituates himself with the plate in hand. “Feeling better? Seemed like the heat was getting to you there.”

“Must’ve,” Eddie replies with a weak laugh. “Thanks.” For the pizza, and for allowing him some semblance of dignity to fall back on after… whatever that had been. Because Steve, above all else, is a good dude; something Eddie has been all too aware of for over a year now.

Steve passes him a can of Mountain Dew and taps his own Coke can against it like a toast. “Don’t mention it. And, uh, Eds…” He’s starting to smile, just a little. “I know this is going to sound cheesy, but I think you're the gratest.”

Somewhere to Eddie’s other side, Robin chokes on her drink and has to cough a few times to clear it.

Eddie just stares, jaw dropped open and feeling flushed all over, heart in his throat. Even with his hair still wet and smelling strongly of chlorine, Steve has somehow retained that signature swoop. Maybe he fixed it while he was inside, procuring pizza and slipping into an old and raggedy high school gym shirt that makes him only slightly less biteable.

And that smile, fully bloomed now and brighter than the afternoon sun. Like he’s decided, playfully, to meet Eddie at his level no matter how dumb it is.

“Alright,” Robin rasps. “Okay. I’m just gonna go inside to finish my summer reading while you dingi do… whatever this is.” Followed by the creak of her chair as she clambers off.

“Don’t mess with the thermostat,” Steve calls after her. He turns slightly to do it and releases Eddie from his tractor beam stare, letting Eddie breathe again—when had he stopped doing that? And then those hazel eyes are back on him, hypnotizing. “Well? Cat got your tongue, or do you have any more?”

The words are… different, now that they’re alone. Quieter. Steve is leaning forward slightly, legs over the side of the chair as he faces Eddie. Elbows on his knees and Coke can dangling forgotten from one big hand. His stare is intense in a way that is almost too terrifying to try to read into.

Eddie wets his lips nervously. “No, I… I’ve got more.” He sits up a little straighter, turns to put his feet down on the shaded but still warm concrete and face Steve head-on. “I’m no photographer, but I can picture us together.”

It sounds, feels, almost terrifyingly like a confession.

Steve’s grin gets impossibly brighter and Eddie is back to not daring to breathe, because what is happening. “Are you a camera? Because every time I look at you, I smile.”

Which is. That’s. Does he? Eddie is having some sort of out of body experience trying to think back.

The part of him that’s still anchored in bones and nerves and skin takes a deep breath. Committing to it.

“Of all the beautiful curves on your body, your smile is my favorite,” he hears himself say, and it’s probably the plainest, most honest words he’s uttered in his entire twenty-one years of life.

It’s not like he thinks Steve is going to punch him for saying it. Or even for saying it like that. Good dude, inescapable. But he wasn’t expecting the guy’s eyes to go big and molten, or for him to swallow hard, all while that amazing smile never dims.

“I’m… Shit, I’m going to give you a kiss, Eddie. If you don't like it, you can return it.”

And then Steve leans forward, and does.

Half an hour later, Robin comes back outside to check on them and finds the two young men twined together on one lounger. Steve is sprawled half on top of Eddie, who looks like he’s holding him in place with both legs and teasing a half eaten slice of pizza against Steve’s mouth. Steve snaps at it with his teeth, and Eddie yanks it away but then goes back in to tap it against his lips anyway with a laugh, loose and easy. Happy.

They both look so happy together.

She knew it. All she’d had to do was get those two pining idiots talking about something real—even if Eddie had surprised her with a deeply unexpected means of doing so. Whatever, he’s weird, nothing new there. The important thing is that her plan to end her two best friends’ ridiculous mutual pining for one another had worked.

And Steve hadn’t believed her when she’d insisted that the metalhead definitely doesn’t think it’s a bad thing that his clothes all fit a little more snug these days. Ha. One more tally on her own You Rule column.

Feeling magnanimous, Robin decides to wait until they’re done with lunch to turn the hose on them.

Permanent tag list: @hotluncheddie @lawrencebshoggoth @sofadofax @irishvampireboy @oatmilk-vampire

@wheneverfeasible @hamiltonswiftie @grtwdsmwhr @yesdangerpls @theseaofdespair

#chubby steve harrington #scoops words #wg steddie #sbtsb24 #Soft Steddie September

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roosterbruiser · 1 year

Text

𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘

“Do you think they’re gonna get too hot?” Bob asks, concern carving his voice into a pitched utterance. “Like--you know, is the sun too much? Should we just take ‘em home?”

Humming from beside Bob, settled onto the old sheets you have laid out across the sand, you just sigh with a fond smile tugging on your lips.

Of course he’s concerned about the babies in this heat--he’s a good father, one that never has to be told what to do or when to do it, one that literally leaps out of bed in the night to change diapers.

“They’re alright,” you assure Bob. “They’re covered! How could the sun get them at all?”

It’s true--the babies are thoroughly covered. Linen shorts and cotton shirts, floppy little sunhats, sunscreen covering every inch of them. Not to mention the umbrellas Bob has staked in the sand behind you--which casts shade over the entirety of your family.

“A freak accident,” Bob tells you, eyes slightly widened when he thinks about one of his precious babies--including you--getting burned. “Maybe we should--!”

“--Baby,” you interrupt, laughing as you glance at him from the top of your glasses. “It’s good that they’re outside! Immunity! Vitamin D! Fresh air! They’ll be alright!”

Bob sighs, glancing down at Jolene, who is sprawled out on your bent thighs, blinking in confusion at the floppy hat that just barely comes down over her eyes. Then he glances at Waylon, whose sound asleep on Bob’s thighs, little milk dribbling down his chin.

“It isn’t too late to tell them that they can meet us at the house,” Bob tells you. He looks up at the sky--endless blue and the sun a fiery hole puncturing the sky. “If we want to do that.”

“We don’t,” you assure him. “And, besides--I think it is too late.”

At that, Bob follows your gaze and turns. Yes--you’re right. It is too late. The squadron is already trailing down the beach, all in their aviators and swimming suits, grinning and zeroed in on yours and Bob’s beach setup.

“Oh, Lord,” Bob says softly, a fond smile tugging on his lips now. “Rooster’s gonna try and steal them, I think.”

“You’re only telling me this now?” You whisper, nudging him with your elbow teasingly.

He has told you before, though, about Rooster’s affinity for children. He can’t get enough of ‘em--he’s always hogging whatever admiral’s child he can get his hands on, playing airplanes or tea party or somehow getting them to nap. And you know, somehow, that Rooster is the goofy looking one with the unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt treading through the sand.

“Sorry, honey,” Bob chuckles.

You see how much this matters to Bob. Never mind that you know him better than anyone else in the world, having met in middle school and fallen in love straight away. Even if you didn’t know him better than anyone, if you were just a fly on the wall--you’d still know. He woke up too early this morning, pacing the kitchen as the coffee brewed, checking in on the twins every few minutes until he heard the first sounds of awakeness. He picked their outfits with you, chewing on his bottom lip. He had the car packed and ready to go before noon. He even called Phoenix a few times just to make sure that plans were still on--and was reminded, a few times, that the plans were absolutely still on.

“You’re shaking the beach,” you whisper, pressing a hand to his bouncing leg.

“Sorry,” Bob mutters, distracted. He stops bouncing his leg. “I’m…I’m really--!”

“--Nervous,” you finish for him, leaning forward to press your warm cheek against his bicep. You kiss him there, soft and sweet, and then sigh. “It’s alright, Bobby. The babies are perfect, the squadron loves you, I’m very personable, the sun is shining, the seagulls are crying! Everything’s gonna be okay!”

“Yeah,” Bob sighs, scratching his head and giving you a quick peck on the forehead. “Yeah, you’re right. I guess I’m just--I don’t know. This is important to me.”

“I know it,” you say, heart swollen. “And I know it’s important to them, too. It’ll be good!”

“It’ll be good,” Bob repeats softly, glancing at you. You’re grinning at him--it makes his shoulders sink. “It’ll be good.”

“Well, well, well,” Hangman says as his feet sink into the hot, hot sand. He grins, squinting even behind his aviators as the sun beats down on his face. “If it ain’t baby on board and his babies on board.”

Bob grins at the sound of Jake’s voice--which surprises him, really. Before that never would’ve happened. But now Bob is back in Lemoore, with you and your babies, and everything feels distinctly better than it did before.

“Hangman,” Bob grins, sticking his hand out for Jake to take. “Good to see you, man.”

Hangman, who’s holding two comically large stuffed rabbits, shuffles to put them under one arm and take Bob’s hand in his.

“How goes it?” Jake asks. Then he glances at you--you’re grinning at him, holding your daughter still. “And this must be the Missus, huh? Pleasure to make your acquaintance!”

Jake crosses the sheets to take your hand, which he promptly brings to his mouth to kiss.

“Don’t mind him,” Rooster says as he appears, toting a cooler and a speaker. “The lack of oxygen in the cockpit really scrambled his brain.”

“Ha-ha-ha,” Hangman says, glancing at Rooster. “Did Bob tell you that Rooster is gonna try and steal them?” Jake asks, pointing to the babies with his brow perched.

“Actually, yes,” you answer, smiling softly. “He did.”

Rooster, rolling his eyes good-naturedly, sets the cooler in the sand before grinning at Bob and stretching his hands out.

“Baby me and I’ll beer you,” Rooster says.

“That doesn’t sound like a fair exchange,” Phoenix sighs, rounding out to clap Rooster on the shoulder before grinning at Bob and you. “Floyds!”

“Hey, Nat,” Bob grins. “How are you?”

“Oh, she’s great,” Payback answers, wiping sweat off his forehead as he sets his beach chair in the sand. “Super, even!”

“She got the aux in the van,” Fanboy explains, resting his elbow on Payback’s shoulder. “Two words: Def Leppard.”

“Lemme see those babies!” Coyote’s voice booms as he jogs up and rounds out the squadron. He’s grinning a broad grin, arms already outstretched.

“Hey, I already called dibs!” Rooster says.

“Yeah, but I got here first,” Hangman grins.

Everyone looks at Bob like he’s the tie-breaker.

“There’s only two of them,” Bob says, laughing quietly.

“You’re gonna have to choose,” Rooster says seriously.

“Here,” you suggest, leaning forward to put Jolene in Hangman’s extended arms. “Take one and pass it on.”

Everyone laughs--it’s music to Bob’s ears. He watches you carefully transfer Jolene into Hangman’s arms, watches him turn absolutely gooey at the sight of your infant daughter. He cups her little head, holds her close to him, grins down at her. You readjust her sunhat and then lean back.

“Oh, she’s too cute,” Hangman says, shaking his head seriously. “Rooster, you’re definitely gonna want to take this one.”

“Here,” Bob says, suddenly feeling more confident in his squadron’s ability than before. He leans forward and bestows Waylon upon Rooster, smiling softly and fondly as he Waylon coos and begins to blink himself awake. “You’re a natural.”

Rooster, delighted, sinks into the sand and holds Waylon close to him.

“Oh, I know,” he says--cocksure as ever. “Look at this little fella. Boy, does he look like a Floyd!”

“Yes,” you agree, laughing. “My DNA didn’t even try.”

As Hangman and Rooster hog the babies, everyone makes their rounds. You shake everyone’s hands, finally put faces to names, and collect all the presents for the babies and yourself. Bob keeps a watchful eye on the babies, but not because he’s stressed--but because he’s enamored that he has two perfect little beings to share with the important people in his life.

The afternoon drifts forward. Your little spot on the beach becomes the spot on the beach, everyone spreading their blankets out and overlapping, coolers abundant and drinks icy. The babies get passed around, hardly even fussing, but always somehow end up back in Rooster’s arms.

Even when everyone decides to get up and toss the pigskins, Rooster ends up staying on the palette with you and Bob and the babies. He’s somehow holding them both at the same time, grinning down at them as they blink up at him.

“You’re ridiculous,” Hangman had said to Rooster, rolling his eyes. “A giant, gushy, manchild.”

“Proud of it,” Rooster had said, cheeks pink.

“They really like you,” you tell Bradley, sighing softly. “I’m still getting used to having all this help, you know? I’m a bit mind-blown right now.”

“Well, I’m here for any babysitting services,” Rooster says. “Hell, I’ll pay you!”

“You’re my favorite already,” you tell Rooster.

Bob looks at you--you’re smiling softly at Rooster and the babies. Your eyes are heavy and your back is curved and he knows that you’re that special kind of tired that is special to new motherhood. Bob understands. He knows. But his heart still squeezes at your sentence. He had to leave only two weeks after they were born, which broke his heart and yours. Of course, because you’re you, you’d put on a very brave face for him. But there were a few times--a few more times than Bob is comfortable with--when you answered his call with a tearful sniffle and a deep sigh.

He reminds himself, as he gazes at you, that things are different now. He’s home for a while--and even after that, he’ll be close to home for the foreseeable future. He’ll never miss bath time or dinner or storytime. He’ll be here, beside you, through it all.

“They really are beautiful,” Rooster tells the both of you. He looks between the two of you, tired and unsure parents with glittering eyes and soft smiles. “You’re doing a damn fine job of it.”

“Thanks, man,” Bob says. “It’s all her.”

You have to swallow hard and roll your eyes, nudging him, to keep from crying pure tears of joy.

Rooster gasps suddenly. “Okay, don’t call me crazy, but I swear to God that Jolene just smiled at me!” He says, elated. “Oh, God. Hangman’s gonna be so pissed.”

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copias-girl · 1 year

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To Catch a Cardinal: Chapter X

This is the song playing at the beach! <3

A/N: Ok it’s finally here!! Get ready for some fun in the sun! ☀️ Also fun fact I’m a certified lifeguard and trained in first aid and CPR so everything in this is actually accurate! Except for the fact that I made it ridiculously horny lmaoo

All chapters here <3

•♥︎𖤐♥︎•

You’d finally arrived at the beach, you and your friends scrambling to get out of the car and grab your things from the trunk.

Copia was slower than the rest of you due to being so self conscious after Rob’s comments about him in the car. He was apprehensive to be in the pit of snakes that was your friend group, however he didn’t want to disappoint you.

Like a good trooper, he took a breath before getting out of the car. He carried his boombox and the black and white striped umbrella, and once you found a good spot, he stuck it in the sand. Rob put the cooler in the shade, and you all began laying your towels down side by side.

Taking a deep inhale of the balmy sea air, a bright smile spread across your face. It was so wonderful to be back by the ocean.

•𖤐•

The last time you’d been at the beach was the previous summer, when the Papas were going and Terzo insisted on bringing you along. You smirked to yourself at the memory; of how Terzo had faked drowning so you’d rush into the water and save him. You had worriedly dragged the unresponsive man onto the sand, beginning to perform CPR on him. However, as soon as your lips brushed his to give him mouth to mouth resuscitation, you felt two arms snaking tightly around you while Terzo stuck his tongue into your mouth in a passionate French kiss.

Surprised, you had squealed into his mouth, swatting at him as you tried to pull away.

“You pervert! Get back here!” You shouted once he had finally released you, laughing and chasing after the man as he ran for his life, wearing the smallest speedo you’d ever seen.

“Fratello, tu coglione! Stop harassing Sorella or she’ll leave the ministry because of you!” Secondo barked at his brother, crossing his arms and flicking his shades back on in annoyance.

“You’d really miss little ol’ me?” You giggled, huffing in exhaustion as you and Terzo stopped chasing each other around and sat back on your towels with the other Papas.

“Of course. I’m not losing my favourite Sorella just because questo carciofo can’t keep his hands off her.” Secondo sniffed, not taking his eyes off the book in his hands. As much as he tried to act serious and scary, he just couldn’t hide his soft spot for you.

Primo had spent most of his time in the shade, slathered in sunscreen and trying to shoo off seagulls when they tried to steal his peach slices. However, his mismatched eyes lit up in interest each time you came back from the water, dumping a bucket of seashells and sea glass next to him so the two of you could sort through them together.

Coincidentally, you’d found a green piece of sea glass which you gifted to Secondo, a violet one that you presented Terzo with, and a red one that you excitedly gave to Primo. To this day, they all still had the little pieces, keeping them on their desks as a reminder of you.

Overall, the four of you had a ridiculously fun day, and you wondered why you didn’t go to the beach more often. Perhaps it was because of the terrible sunburn that Terzo developed after that day.

“I told you not to use all that tanning oil!” Secondo had scolded his younger brother as he drove you all home.

“The Emeritus bloodline does not tan well.” Ghostly pale Primo solemnly nodded in agreement from the front seat.

“Come fottutamente ovvio! I think I fucking know that now! Ow, cazzo!” Terzo groaned while you comforted him, the two of you sitting in the back seat.

And for two whole weeks you’d been assigned to slather aloe vera all over Terzo while the cheeky bastard coyly smirked at you. You always wondered if he got that sunburn on purpose.

•𖤐•

“Where’s your towel?” You asked Copia, noticing he didn’t have one with him.

“Ah, shit…” He mumbled, averting his gaze shyly. “Ho dimenticato…”

“You could share with me. I didn’t realize this was a bigger one when I grabbed it.” You offered, gesturing to your big square beach towel, the black one with the white grucifix on it.

“I-I don’t want to pester you, Sorella.” The Cardinal shook his head timidly.

“Nonsense! Otherwise I’ll be lonely on this big towel all by myself.” You giggled. Everyone had taken their clothes off, having their swimsuits underneath, and Copia began to do the same. He anxiously took his hoodie off, then his sweatpants, then pulled his t-shirt over his head and sat down on your towel to remove his shoes and socks. Funnily enough, the man looked the most bashful when he removed his gloves. Copia felt terribly naked without his gloves.

You gaped at him for a moment, having to hide your grin. Your friends were already snickering to each other about it, and you didn’t want the poor man to think you were laughing at him too. But sweet Satan, he was wearing one of those old fashioned black and white striped men’s one-piece swimsuits. It was basically like a tank top with shorts attached. Of course Copia would wear one of those. Part of you was disappointed that you didn’t get to see the man shirtless, but you were also delightfully amused at how on-brand it was. Besides, it was fairly tight, and obviously allowed you to see much more of him than his cassocks did.

Before you could study Copia any further, your friends were all chanting for you to give them a fashion show with your new bikini.

“Alright aright, gimme a second!” You laughed, going behind the umbrella to undress. You shoved your clothes into your beach bag before stepping into view.

“Well, here it is!” You shrugged, giving them a little twirl.

You looked like an infernal goddess. And the tiny black bikini hardly left anything to the imagination. The top- with ‘See you in Hell’ cheekily written on it- cupped your breasts perfectly; barely containing them as they slightly spilled out, creating a delicious cleavage. And the bottoms- if you could even call them bottoms- were basically just a little black thong with the grim reaper on the front.

Rob wolf-whistled as your girlfriends hollered and cheered at you, causing you to laugh at their reactions.

“Unholy moly, settle down!” You giggled, turning around and giving them another view of your voluptuous ass, coyly looking over your shoulder before beginning to laugh.

“Unholy moly is right…” Rob murmured with a smirk.

“Haven’t you guys ever seen a girl in a bikini before?” You asked in amusement.

“Not like you! Ugh, body goals.” Mable sighed dreamily.

“I know right? What was the Dark Lord thinking when he made you??” Lilith added.

“Speak of the Devil, when we get home I’m going to make an offering to Satan so he’ll make me look like you!” Ava beamed.

“You guys are too much.” You giggled, waving them off. You noticed how Emily was a bit quiet, side-eyeing Rob while he drooled over you.

Your eyes finally flicked to Copia, but you were immediately alarmed as you saw blood gushing out of his nose while he stared at you, his cheeks red and his wide eyes trained intensely on you.

“Cardinal!” You gasped, rushing to kneel beside the man. “Are you alright?”

Copia was unresponsive, continuing to gape at you; his lips parted, eyes practically popping out of his skull. He was under your spell, totally and utterly entranced by your body. Had he died? Was this chthonic paradise? It felt as though Satan had rewarded Copia for his unholy works, bestowing you upon him as a gift; the prettiest little succubus in the whole inferno.

Reaching into your bag, you grabbed a tissue before worriedly turning back to the man. Meanwhile, Rob and your fellow Sisters of Sin sat on their own respective beach towels, gawking at Copia in a mix of confusion and amusement, exchanging hushed, speculative whispers of judgement.

“Cardinal, are you okay??” You fretted, placing a gentle hand on his cheek, wiping drips of crimson blood off his moustache, lips, and chin.

“I-I-I’m s-sorry, I-” The man shook his head, trying to snap out of it. “I-I don’t- ehm-” He couldn’t help it; his painted eyes roamed your body as he stuttered out nonsense. He had never seen a girl so undressed before, especially not so close to him like this. And, Hell, this wasn’t just any girl. This was you. Copia never ever thought he’d get the chance- the privilege- to see you with so little clothes on. However, he felt ever so disgusted with himself for making such a big deal about it. He really was a depraved pervert, wasn’t he?

It dawned on you then, with the way he was uncontrollably ogling you. And when you stole a glance downward, you bit your lip at the sight of the very visible bulge in his swimsuit, the black and white striped fabric only accentuating it.

You had literally just given this perverted old man an anime nosebleed.

You had to hide your smirk, wickedly snaking an arm around his shoulders as you moved to straddle his lap.

The Cardinal’s breath hitched in his throat as he bit back a moan; the feeling of you seated on top of him like this was sure to make him pop. He felt hot, too hot; but not from the scintillating sun beating down on him, no. You put the sun to shame, your radiant beauty beaming millions of times brighter than that pendant of fire in the sky.

“Poor little mouse. Let me help you.” You cooed, leaning in close as you gently dabbed away the blood. Rob’s eyes widened at the sight. Was this how you were acting at the sleepover? Why were you indulging the dirty old man in his sick fantasies?

“G-g-g-grazie, Sorella, m-mi dispiace…” Copia stammered quietly, embarrassed. He prayed to Satan below that you wouldn’t be able to feel his cock hardening and straining against the thin fabric of his swimsuit.

You could.

“Why do you think that happened, hm?” You asked.

“I, ehm… I-I don’t, eh- …ehm..” Copia mumbled, his astonished gaze fixed directly onto your tits, which were dangerously close to his face now that you were perched on his lap.

“Because he’s a dirty old pervert who’s never even seen a girl in a swimsuit before!” Emily interjected, crossing her arms with a scoff.

“Gross.” Lilith wrinkled her nose.

The Cardinal’s cheeks burned with shame, the lines on his face deepening with guilt as he knew their words to be true.

“I mean, I’m pretty used to seeing girls with little on, but…” Rob sniffed. “your body is fire. Kinda takes a man off guard, ya know? So give the depraved virgin a break.” He smirked.

Impressive, Rob managed to compliment you and insult Copia all in the same breath.

Your poor Cardinal flinched and averted his mismatched gaze as Rob prodded at his virginity, which was obviously a very sensitive topic for Copia that caused his self esteem to plummet. Finally finished wiping up the nosebleed, you removed yourself from the man’s lap and sat on your towel next to him.

You scooted a bit closer, snaking an arm around Copia’s neck to pull him towards you. His eyes widened, alarm flashing in those beautifully odd irises as you leaned in in in, your lips ghosting over his ear and causing him to shiver.

“Between you and me, I wouldn’t ever want a man who’s been around the block as much as Rob claims to have been.” You whispered with a little smirk before pulling away.

Copia only stared at you, a pitiful look on his blushing face as he mulled your words over in his head. He didn’t want to overthink things, because he knew you definitely didn’t mean anything by your remark. You were just a kind Sister of Sin who took pity on an old man. You were simply trying to make him feel better after Rob hurt his feelings. Copia stared down at his lap; he would be a fool to think that someone like you could actually like a man like him.

All settled in and enjoying the hot sun, you opened the cooler, everyone grabbing an ice-cold bottle of cherry coke.

“Salute!” You chirped, holding your drink up, the glass bottles all clinking together as your friends toasted with you.

“Salute, Cardinale.” You giggled softly, warmth in your eyes as Copia gave you a shy smile and clinked his bottle of coke against yours before taking a sip.

•𖤐•

You reclined back on your towel as Florida Kilos by Lana Del Rey filled the sweet summer air, playing from Copia’s radio. You flicked your bat wing sunglasses on, taking the opportunity to really get a good look at the man.

He was pasty pale- obviously from constantly being covered up in his cassock- with a smattering of endearing little freckles on his flesh, matching the ones on his face. Your eyes scanned over his form, biting your lip before taking another sip of cherry coke. What a treat, the swimsuit had a crew neck collar, so you could actually see his neck and a little bit of his collar bone! Oh how you longed to kiss and bite at his neck, leaving dark hickeys there while he made love to you, laving your tongue over the bruises later as you both relaxed after several orgasms. You’d ask Copia to give you matching ones, begging him to mark you as his.

Your hungry eyes trailed lower, then, taking in the way his waist pinched in and the softness of his tummy. And of course, the very nicely sized package between those surprisingly muscular thighs. Your gaze followed his hand as he nervously ran his fingers through his greying hair, and oh what beautiful hands your Cardinal had. They were just perfect. You licked your lips, salivating as you imagined them inside you; two of his elegant fingers down your throat and two stuffed in your tight, wet pussy as you moaned and mewled for him.

“You know, you’re pretty modest for a Cardinal of the Satanic Church.” You remarked, hooking your finger in the collar of his swimsuit, giving it a teasing little tug.

“Eh? Oh.. W-well, there is, ehm… T-there is not much to show…” Copia responded timorously with a sad little chuckle, gesturing to himself.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Cardinal.” You responded softly, causing the hot blush on Copia’s cheeks to spread to the tips of his ears. He stole a shy glance at you, then another, followed by another. Satanas, the man couldn’t seem to keep his eyes off you. You could feel his gaze all over your body before studying your pretty face.

Copia was entirely in awe of your beauty, so needy for you. He longed to kiss your fruit punch lips in the bright sunshine. The poor man wanted nothing more than to work up the courage to pull you onto his lap and share cherry cola kisses with you until the sun was smouldering low in the sky. He inwardly cursed himself for being far too diffident to do so.

Releasing a sigh, he tried to relax, taking another long sip of his coke.

“Have you ever had sex on the beach?” You asked abruptly.

The Cardinal gasped, then immediately began sputtering and coughing, choking on his drink as your friends stifled laughter. He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand before looking at you incredulously.

“N-no, I have obviously never… done that anywhere…” Copia murmured.

You burst out into giggles. “I meant the drink, silly! You know, a sex on the beach?” You clarified. “I think we’ve already established that you’re a virgin, Rat.” You added with a kittenish little smirk.

Copia’s cheeks burned with shame. “Ah… W-well, no, I have not had the drink either…” He responded.

“Maybe next time we could have sex on the beach together.” You offered. “You know, the drink.”

Copia’s eyes widened, nearly getting whiplash from how quickly he turned to look at you. Alarm coursed through his veins as he felt his cock beginning to harden again.

“You naughty devil, you!” Lilith laughed. “You’re almost as bad as Papa with your innuendos! And you aren’t even old enough to drink!”

“Naughty? Me?? Never!” You giggled coyly. “Besides, I’m not making any innuendos, that’s just what the drink is called! And what about the unholy communion wine every black mass? One drink wouldn’t make a difference!”

“Why would she be making innuendos anyway, Lil? It’s not like she actually wants to fuck a 50 year old virgin who literally looks like a rat.” Emily laughed, causing you to frown.

“Hey, rats are cute!” You pouted, throwing your arms around the humiliated Cardinal and giving him a squeeze. Oh, this man was so cute with those big mismatched puppy dog eyes, his lower lip flushed from biting it out of nervousness. You swore he’d probably squeak like a chew toy if you hugged him too tightly.

Copia tensed up, heart rate rising and gaze darting all around at the sensation of your soft, bare flesh pressed against him, but the contact was a soothing balm to the hurt he was feeling at your friends’ cruel words. The Cardinal knew he looked like a rat; that was a comment people had often made throughout his life. He was already so self conscious about his looks, why did your friends feel the need to constantly point it out, especially in front of you?

Emily rolled her eyes. “Get your eyesight checked then.” She murmured.

“My eyesight is perfectly fine.” You quipped, mindlessly petting Copia’s hair and scratching at his scalp. Lucifer, he really did feel like your pathetic little pet, helpless and piteous while you defended him.

“Well maybe you have heatstroke and it’s causing you to not think straight, babe. The sun beating down on you like this could fry your brain like an egg, ya know.” Rob suggested with a grin, earning a cacophony of giggles from the other sisters.

You gave them a dirty look, opening your mouth to respond snidely, when you suddenly pulled away from Copia. “Oh shoot! Speaking of the sun, I almost forgot to put sunscreen on!” You gasped, rummaging around in your bag and pulling out the bottle of coppertone.

You flipped the lid open and began squirting the white liquid onto your arms, legs, and chest; the distinctive, synonymous-with-summer smell delighting your senses.

Copia awkwardly sat next to you and watched as you began to rub it into your skin. Biting his lip, he tried to focus on anything else but you. The sky, the sand, the ocean waves. But his gaze just kept getting pulled back to your stunning form, and the way you were almost sensually working the sunscreen into your smooth, supple flesh. He tried- Satan knows he tried- to ignore what the white cream looked like. Poor Copia tried so hard not to imagine you signing in delectation while being painted with a big load of his hot cum, gazing up at him with those pretty bedroom eyes of yours.

His lip quivered and his cock twitched at the mere thought, saliva pooling in his mouth as he imagined capturing you in a deeply passionate kiss. The Cardinal craved you, he needed to taste your sweet lips again. And Copia was ashamed to admit that he was also thinking about tasting you in different ways too.

He swallowed thickly, attempting to control his indecent thoughts; but there was just something about the balmy, halcyon summer air and the sultry vision of you so close to him wearing that sinfully small bikini that nearly drove him mad.

“Don’t you have anything better to do than leer at an innocent young girl?” Emily glowered, startling Copia from his thoughts.

“Oh! I-I-I- N-no, I was just- eh-” Copia stammered, mouth hanging open in surprise.

“Well obviously he doesn’t have anything better to do, Em. I think being a pervert is his hobby or something.” Rob sneered.

“Close your mouth, Cardinal, you’re gonna start drooling any second!” Mable added, causing Lilith and Ava to burst out laughing, making comments about how hilariously shocked the man looked after being called out.

Copia not only felt humiliated, but also utterly disgusted with himself for being such a lecherous creep. He could feel tears pricking at the corners of his eyes from the embarrassment, his face flushed and pyretic, chest tight with shameful anxiety.

But then you were gently tapping his arm, drawing his attention back to you.

“Could you get my back?” You batted your thick eyelashes at him, holding the bottle of sunblock up to him.

The snivelling Cardinal’s attention snapped to you, staring at you with an expression comprised of both shock and panic.

“I gotcha, babe!” Rob interjected, beginning to get up, but you only waved him off.

“Don’t trouble yourself. Like you said, the Cardinal doesn’t have anything better to do.” You stated with a smirk. “Right, Co-Co?”

Copia glanced uneasily at the now vexed Rob before turning back to you and nodding quickly, trembling hands taking the bottle from you.

The other sisters looked at you like you had spiders crawling out of your eye sockets. Who on earth would simply wave off the opportunity to have dreamy, handsome Rob rubbing you down??

You removed your sunglasses and flipped over, situating yourself on your stomach and resting your head on your arms, giving the sweet man a delicious view of your ass.

Copia looked utterly dumbfounded as his pitifully wide eyes scanned over your perfect curves. He no idea what landed him in this golden position. Copia felt as though he had no charm, no charisma, and that his looks were quite laughable. And yet here he was, squirting an ample amount of sunscreen into his palm, nervously licking his lips and unsure of what to do next.

“I don’t have all day, Rat.” You glanced back at the poor man with lusty eyes and a playful smirk. Before laying back down, you reached around and untied your bathing suit too, leaving your back completely bare for Copia.

The Cardinal sucked in a sharp breath. Somehow, the absence of that thin little strap going across your back made the situation all the more obscene, forbidden, naughty. Shaking the perverse thoughts from his mind, the man hastily rubbed the cream between his shaking hands before gently pressing his palms against your back.

Slowly but surely, he began smoothing the sunscreen into your silky flesh, being mindful to not touch you too excessively. He didn’t want to mistakenly enjoy it too much; didn’t want to take advantage of you like that.

“Mmm, that feels good.” You sighed sensually, and Copia’s heart skipped a beat at your praise. He truly wanted to make you feel good; he really wanted to be the one to make you feel good.

Gaining a bit more confidence, he smoothed his hands over your back a bit more firmly, but murmured pitifully desperate apologies whenever his fingertips brushed against the sides of your breasts. Copia tried in earnest to do his best for you, giving you a sort of massage while he worked in the cream; sweeping up up up to your shoulders and down down down, a hot blush burning on his cheeks as his hands timidly ghosted over your lower back.

“Ah~!” Your breathy moan was almost obscene, causing Copia to stutter in his movements. He was in such a daze that he had nearly forgotten the two of you weren’t alone; and when he stole a glance upwards, he was met with the judgemental countenances of your friends glaring right at him. Especially Rob. That dangerous look of envy in the boy’s eyes frightened Copia.

He stared at them like a deer in the headlights before you grabbed his attention once again.

“Cardinal, you’re so good with your hands.” You purred. “Keep going?”

Your praise stoked a hot fire of desperation within the man, so eager to please as he immediately continued his ministrations, deciding to ignore your friends. After all, you wanted him to do this for you, and Copia was beyond happy to obey your wishes.

His cock jumped with each little moan that tumbled from your sweet lips, and soon, you were murmuring something about going lower.

“Eh… M-mi dispiace, Sorella. Ch-che hai detto?” He asked quietly.

“Can you go lower?” You asked again with a another deeply relaxed sigh.

The Cardinal remained silent, warily moving to rub his hands along your lower back, his thumbs pressing into the dimples there as he moved to gently knead the flesh of your hips. The man bit his lip, shaking his head slightly and letting out a shaky exhale as he caught himself relishing in the moment far too much to be appropriate. He lessened his grip on your hips just as you began to murmur something else.

“No, like… Go lower.” You told him.

“S-Sorella, forgive me b-but… If I go any lower I… I-I’ll be…” He stammered awkwardly.

“Yeah go ahead. I didn’t get my bum earlier and I’m too comfy to move now.” You replied nonchalantly.

Copia’s mouth went dry, his head spinning and heart pounding violently in his chest as he hesitated. A million thoughts were going through his mind at once. He had never touched a girl there; or anywhere for that matter! And he had never even thought it possible since everyone found him to be so revolting. What should he do? What would he do? What if he accidentally orgasmed in front of you and your friends?

He mistakenly came when you were sitting on his lap in the car that one time, but he was thankfully able to hold in his moans and disguise the audible ones as being gasps of surprise at the terribly bumpy road. But this time- Oh, Satanas- he wouldn’t be able to hold anything in; he’d be a pathetic, whimpering mess. You’d all laugh at him and call him a dirty old man. You’d never speak to him again. You’d be disgusted by him just like everyone else.

Copia could already feel his sensitive cock filling out more and more at the thought of getting to feel you up like this.

Bracing himself, he grabbed the bottle of sunblock and squirted some more into his palm. And then, slowly and carefully, the Cardinal placed his quivering hands on your ass, one on each cheek. He bit his lip so hard he tasted blood, swallowing back a moan that threatened to erupt from his mouth as he felt precum beginning to ooze out of his cock.

“What a fucking creep. I think I’m gonna puke.” Emily shuddered.

Copia was frozen in place, the whole world having had fallen away as he stared down at the sight of his hands on your perfect ass, almost in disbelief at the reality of the situation.

Not wanting to keep you waiting, he timidly began to grope your plump flesh, so smooth and soft and round, blushing furiously at the fact that your bikini was practically non-existent in the back. He rubbed his hands in slow circles, only pausing his ministrations to wipe away the sweat that was beading on his brow.

He fought to stay level-headed, but in all honesty, Copia felt like he was going to pop a vein any second. Lucifer, he hoped he wouldn’t have another nosebleed; one was embarrassing enough.

Rob looked as though he was actually turning green with envy, watching with crossed arms and a scowl tugging at his features as the pathetic rat man worked his hands down to your shapely thighs, squeezing slightly before going back up to your voluptuous ass, your girlish sighs only seeming to encourage the man to continue fondling you. Rob clenched his jaw. Was the Cardinal abusing his position as a higher member of clergy to take advantage of you? Why else would you let such a disgusting little man touch you like this?

And just when Rob felt like he was going to snap, the timid man pulled his hands away, wringing them nervously in his lap before speaking up.

“Well, ehm… I-I think you’re all set there, Sorella…” Copia murmured once all the sunscreen was soaked into your skin.

“Mmm, thank you so much, Cardinal! That was a dream!” You sighed with a smile, turning over onto your back and stretching. “You give a great massage. I’ll have to return the favour sometime.” You grinned up at him wickedly before sitting upright, looking like some sort of Satanic pinup girl. “I know sitting at a desk doing paperwork for all those hours must not feel great on your back.” You pouted, ghosting your fingertips down the poor man’s spine and causing him to shiver and flinch, his gaze darting all around as he stammered out a bunch of random syllables in an attempt to respond to you.

“I- w- eh- th- ehm- I-I- eh, w-well, y-y-y-yes b-but, ehhh… heh heh, y-you don’t have to, eh-” He stuttered horribly, but you only giggled.

“I insist!” You chirped.

“Ya know, it’s not just sitting at a desk that’ll ruin your back. It’s also probably because he’s so old. Greying hair, wrinkles, sore back, etcetera. It all sorta goes together.” Rob chimed in casually, trying to disguise his jab as a helpful observation.

Copia’s shoulders slumped in self consciousness; he hated his age being pointed out to you. It seemed as though your friends had quite an impressive knack for sniffing out his biggest insecurities and waving them around right in front of you.

“Well, all the more reason to do it!” You didn’t miss a beat. “I guarantee you’ll feel like a million bucks after I’m done with you.” You grinned naughtily.

Before the pathetic man could respond, Ava spoke up. “Didn’t you bring the camera? Let’s take some pictures!” She beamed.

“Yup! Here you go!” Mable replied, fishing the Polaroid out of her bag.

The sisters took turns snapping pictures of each other and Rob, and soon you were in the middle of a little solo photo shoot, striking cute pinup poses in your teeny tiny bikini. For a few of the shots, you even used your bottle of cherry cola as a prop, the striped straw suggestively between your glossy, pouty lips.

“Papa’s gonna love these.” Lilith chuckled.

“You wouldn’t!” You gasped, moving into another innocent-yet-sexually-charged pose.

“I will! I’m gonna put them under his napkin at breakfast tomorrow and watch him spit out his coffee!” The girl responded, laughing.

“Lilith no! You’ll give poor Papa a heart attack like that!” Mable giggled.

Copia shyly sat to the side during all this, mindlessly poking his fingers into the warm sand, watching you through his lashes. He felt a pang of jealously stab through his heart at the thought of Terzo getting pictures of you. He tried to shake it off, but it was enough to make his lower lip quiver and his eyes well with hot tears that threatened to spill onto his flushed cheeks.

“Rat man! Can you take a group picture of us?” Emily waved the Cardinal over as you all got into position. Copia sniffled, blinking wetly before pulling himself to his feet and taking the camera. He focused on your gorgeous, smiling face as he looked into viewfinder, snapping the picture. Once it exited the slot, Copia pulled it out and waved it around so it could develop, but Rob plucked it out of his fingers before he could see it.

The Cardinal turned, dejectedly trudging back to his spot, but that’s when your sweet voice called out to him.

“Co-Co, come here! Take a picture with me!”

The man turned, gazing at you with those sorrowful puppy dog eyes. “M-me?” He asked pitifully.

“Yes you, silly. Come here.” You grinned, beckoning him closer with a come-hither motion.

Copia’s freckled cheeks flushed a deeper shade of red as he frantically smoothed his hair back, wanting to look his best.

“Do you want him in the group pict-”

“No, I want it to be just me and the Cardinal.” You cut Mable off with a smile.

“Ehm… Okie dokie..” Copia hesitantly shuffled over to you, his hands anxiously clasped in front of him, making him look even more like a pitiful little rat than usual. You rose to your feet, biting your lip coyly and grabbing the Cardinal’s lovehandles, pulling him closer until his hips were touching yours. The man released a trembling exhale as his cock pressed into you, his painted eyes glued to where your bodies were connected.

“Let’s do one like this.” You decided. Copia stiffly stood facing the camera, and you took his arm and placed it around your waist while you wrapped your arms around his middle, looking back at the camera with a coquettish smile. Yup, a shameless ass shot. But who could blame you when you looked that good? With the pretty ocean view in the background, Mable snapped the picture.

“Take another one!” You said, and with an additional bright flash, the auburn-haired sister captured an additional photograph.

You took the Polaroids from her, waving them around until they developed. You studied them closely, a grin spreading across your face.

“Do I… ehm- D-do I.. look okay?” Copia murmured nervously.

“You look very handsome, Cardinal.” You giggled, handing him one of the pictures. You loved the nervous, deer-in-the-headlights look that Copia had in the photos, his cheeks flushed bright red as he awkwardly stood there with his arm around you.

“T-thank you, Sorella, a-although I would beg to differ…” Copia shook his head, incredibly flustered at your compliment, his eyes widening considerably when his gaze scanned over the picture. With your ass towards the camera and your kittenish smirk, the Cardinal felt as though he was seeing something he shouldn’t. He tried to hand the Polaroid back to you, but you shook your head.

“One for each of us.” You told him.

The Cardinal looked at you with those big, eager puppy eyes and parted lips, a spark of excitement coursing through him. He followed you back to your beach towel, studying the precious Polaroid intently before tucking it away safely with his things. He would definitely be looking at it every night before he went to sleep and every morning before he pulled himself out of bed.

You sat down, watching as the other sisters carded through the pictures from your little photoshoot.

“Wow, these turned out fantastic!” Ava commented, with Rob leaning over her shoulder to get a closer look.

“Yeah, I’m sure Papa will appreciate them!” Lilith giggled wildly, reaching to grab as many as she could.

“No!” You laughed, scrambling to grab the rest of the Polaroids before she could get them.

Lilith smirked triumphantly as she tucked away half of the photos into her bag, causing you to roll your eyes. You looked over your copies before handing them to your dear Cardinal.

“Ehm- Wh-”

“You can keep them. They’re all just ones of me anyway.” You shrugged before turning back to your friends. “I’ll take one of the group pictures though, for my diary.”

“The one you write in with the pink glitter gel pen?” Mable teased.

You gasped at her spot-on guess. “Duh! What else would I ever use?” You giggled.

Copia’s expression was priceless as he flipped through the photographs, his feverish flush spreading to the tips of his ears and chest as he bit his lip, taking in your flirtatious expressions and seductive poses. Sweet Satan, he’d cherish these forever!

The Cardinal decided then that he would make it a nightly routine to raptly examine every detail of these pictures before he fell asleep. That way- he hoped- he’d dream of you. And perhaps he’d also… No, no, he couldn’t. Copia couldn’t possibly pleasure himself to your image. He couldn’t bring himself to take advantage of your kindness like that; he didn’t want to act like a depraved pervert. But lately at night Copia had been feeling so hot, so needy, utterly consumed with thoughts of you. He desperately sought some sort of satisfaction, sometimes even thrusting against his mattress while he muffled his whines with his pillow, tears pricking at his eyes while they rolled back in his head. He tried not to finish- although a few times he accidentally blew his load- because he didn’t want to tarnish your image by cumming to the thought of you. The poor man just needed a few thrusts to alleviate the throbbing ache in his hard cock, just enough to satiate him through the night. It always left him whimpering and febrile as he drifted off to sleep.

“What, don’t I get one? I’ll trade you!” Rob asked, gesturing to the photos you had just handed to Copia.

“If you wanna play Pokémon cards with my swimsuit pictures, you’re more than welcome to do so with the Cardinal. And Papa I guess, whenever Lilith gives him his stash.” You smirked, causing your other Sisters of Sin to laugh.

“Sorry Rob, but I doubt the Cardinal would ever give those pictures up. You’d probably have to pry them out of his cold, dead hands.” Emily remarked in amusement.

After realizing he had been intensely staring at your pictures for an inappropriate amount of time, Copia scrambled to deposit them in his wallet along with the one of you and him, careful not to bend or crease them in any way.

After a while, you stood up, your pouty lips quirking upwards into a kittenish smirk as you caught Copia staring at your buxom figure, practically drooling.

“Well, I think I’m gonna go for a dip in the water!” You announced. “Care to join?” You asked, your eyes catching Copia’s.

“S-Si…” He nodded, rising to his feet and trailing alongside you as you waded into the sparkling, viridescent water. It was refreshing yet still warmly inviting, lacking the usual cruel bite of chilliness that the seawater sometimes had.

“Oh, it’s wonderful!” You sighed, taking a deep breath and relaxing into the water. You stole a glance back at Copia, pleased to see that he was enjoying himself, a small smile having crept onto his countenance. After being so hot and bothered by you, the man gratefully welcomed the revitalizing sensation of the ocean.

You made your way into the water until you were about chest-deep, the two of you sharing a comfortable silence as you both swam around a little bit, dipping under the water and splashing around. You taught Copia how to do a somersault, giggling at his attempts and cheering for him when he finally got the hang of it.

You admired Copia as he slicked his wet hair back, the sultry summer weather making you feel frisky.

“Thank you for bringing us here, Cardinal.” You gazed at the man with your big doe eyes, drifting closer to him.

“It- ehm, i-it was nothing, Sorella… T-Thank you for having me.” Copia shook his head, nervously running a hand through his hair.

“Aah!” You suddenly yelped, jumping into the Cardinal’s arms, wrapping your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist.

“W-what??” Copia asked you worriedly, his hands subconsciously finding your waist as he held you protectively.

“I felt something touch my leg!” You told him. You knew it was most likely a clump of seaweed, but being in your darling Cardinal’s arms made you feel safe and warm, among other things.

“W-well, don’t worry, Sorella, ehm, I’ve got you.” Copia reassured you, his deep blush quickly returning. You only tightened your legs around the man, stifling a pleasured gasp as you felt his stiff throbbing and twitching right against your clit.

“What if there are sharks?” You mused, brushing a stray lock of wet hair off the man’s forehead, noticing how the lines on his face began to deepen as he let out a strained exhale.

“I-I-I will p-protect you, Sorella.” He nodded, doing his best to dispel your fears while also trying so hard not to moan or grind against your core. With each flowing ocean wave, your body was pressed against him more, shifting back and forth deliciously. Your touch was enough to drive the man insane; he was hyper aware of all the places that your body was connected to his.

“You’re going to protect me… from a shark?” You smirked, raising an eyebrow, shaking your arms around his shoulders just a bit tighter.

“Well, I- Ehm-” The Cardinal suddenly felt silly.

“What if it takes a bite out of you?” You asked. “Like this?” You leaned in close, grazing your teeth against Copia’s neck, giving him a gentle nip.

“Ah-!” He whimpered, his arms encircling your waist even more tightly, drawing you impossibly closer. You met his eyes once more when you felt his big cock jump.

“Are you alright, Cardinal?” You giggled seductively. “Is everything copacetic?”

Copia nodded, dazed by you, intoxicated by your close proximity.

And you, well you had to admit that you weren’t in much better shape. You couldn’t help the excited little gasp that tumbled from your lips at the feeling of the Cardinal’s thick cock pressing into your hypersensitive clit.

“Poor Cardinal.” You tutted. “Here, you can get me back for biting you.” You grinned, moving your hair away from your neck and offering yourself to Copia.

He stiffened, then, staring at you with those wide, dumbstruck eyes. Unsure of what to do, he very slowly leaned in in in, his lips hesitantly ghosting against your soft skin. You felt him shiver as he breathed you in, your lips parting in a soft sigh when you felt his teeth cautiously make contact with your neck. He lingered there for a moment, but the feeling of his thin moustache against your sensitive flesh had you suddenly squirming.

“Your moustache is tickling me!” You let out a squealing giggle and he pulled away bashfully, unable to meet your gaze.

“What the fuck are they doing?” Rob asked, squinting as he tried to make out what you and Copia were getting up to.

“Ew. I literally have no idea.” Emily responded, equal parts disgusted and confused.

“Well come on, let’s get in the water! It’s so hot out here!” Ava chirped.

You pulled away from Copia once you spotted all your friends joining you, leaving the man craving your closeness once more, hungry for your touch.

“The water’s great, isn’t it?” You beamed before turning back to Copia, but before you could vocalize what you were going to say to him, you felt someone tugging the strings of your bikini top. Before you could reach for it, the small top sprung off you as it was pulled undone, landing somewhere in the water and leaving your breasts exposed. Your arms flew up to cover yourself, but Copia had already caught a glimpse.

He flinched, mouth hanging open, eyes wide as pies as another spurt of blood gushed from his nose.

You turned, casting a dirty glance at your perpetrator, which happened to be a hysterically laughing Rob.

“You scoundrel!” You tried to smack at him with the arm that wasn’t covering your tits, before you tried to locate your bikini top in the water. You frantically searched before a dazed, blushing, and bloody Copia nervously held up the small scrap of fabric, holding it out to you with shaking hands. You gratefully took it from him, your own eyes widening at the stream of scarlet oozing down his face for the second time today. The poor man’s mismatched eyes couldn’t help but remain trained on your barely-covered breasts as he gaped at you. And thank Satan the waist-deep water obscured his lower half, because his cock was now fully hard and would probably be embarrassingly noticeable.

“You rotten boy, you!” Mable scolded Rob as she rushed over to help you tie your top, while you moved to cup Copia’s face in your hands.

“Oh, Cardinal, are you alright??” You looked him over worriedly, wiping his blood away and splashing some seawater onto his face.

“I…… I-I-….” He stammered, seemingly paralyzed. Copia couldn’t seem to get the brief image of your bare breasts and pert, pink nipples out of his head.

Once Mable was finished securing your bikini, you moved a bit closer to the Cardinal, only to find yourself being poked by something big, thick, and hard.

You gasped and looked downward, heat pooling deep within you when you realized it was Copia’s impressive length that was poking at you.

You stepped forward, closing the gap between you, a coy smirk gracing your features at the way Copia bit his lip to stifle a moan, a shock of pleasure coursing through him as his cock fully pressed into you.

“Well, it seems like you enjoyed that eyeful, you perverted little rat.” You whispered into Copia’s ear, your hands snaking up to his freckled shoulders.

The man stiffened, his blood running cold as you acknowledged his obvious arousal.

“S-Sorella, p-please, I- M-Mi dispiace, Sorella, I didn’t- I-I didn’t mean to- I- P-P-Please forgive me.” The pitiful man quietly pleaded, the pretty lines on his face deepening significantly with guilt and shame, his eyes filled with doleful contrition.

“I forgive you.” You replied, your smouldering gaze burning into him, so close that the tips of your noses were just barely brushing together. “I won’t blame you for being a depraved virgin.” You bit your lip.

The Cardinal released a piteous whimper, his eyes fluttering closed momentarily. You felt his cock jump against you as he gasped out another quiet apology.

With a devilish little smirk, you regarded the man through your thick lashes.

Copia strained, every muscle in his body longing to rut himself against you until completion, but every voice in his head screaming at him not to do it. He one hundred percent; absolutely; in no way, shape, or form, could ever do anything like that to you. He couldn’t let you think he was a dirty old creep. But Satanas, you had such a profound effect on the man. Copia couldn’t take it anymore, not when you were gazing at him with those pretty fuck-me eyes, your delectable body pressed against his.

Oh, how your heart swelled for your poor Cardinal. You wanted him, you needed him, you wished you could have him right this instant. For a brief moment, you leaned a bit closer, craving Copia’s inexperienced lips once more.

The man’s eyes widened considerably. Were you going to- Could you be…? Kissing him?

But then your name was being shouted and just as you turned, a black and white beach ball was soaring through the air, headed straight towards you. It narrowly missed you, instead hitting the Cardinal in the head and bouncing off him to land in the water.

You were unable to stifle the giggle that erupted from your lips, and the Cardinal blushed shyly with an awkward smile, nervously running a hand through his damp hair. He loved making you smile that beautiful smile, even if he had to be made a fool to achieve it.

•𖤐•

You all stood in a circle and volleyed the ball around for a while, which Copia was actually surprisingly good at. You were terribly competitive, and you made a good team with your Cardinal. You even managed to spike the ball, causing Rob to miss a handful of times.

After you reached 13 points- your lucky number- you pulled Copia into a congratulatory hug.

“We won!” You squealed, giggling as he timidly wrapped his arms around you too, a little grin finding its way into his handsome features.

And after a while of frolicking around in the glimmering water some more, you decided to sunbathe again, beginning to swim to shore. Copia obsequiously trailed behind you, following you like a lost puppy because he was so eager to be near you. You ran to your towel, picking it up off the ground and wrapping it around both you and the Cardinal to dry off.

The man blushed as you drew him in close, allowing himself the pleasure of gazing at your splendorous beauty with needy eyes; his lips twitching, aching to be kissed. Ever since he got a taste of you at the sleepover, Copia had been fiercely desiderating you. Every moment without your lips on his felt dull; as if things weren’t as they should be.

“You look like a drowned rat.” You commented softly, reaching up to his pretty face and wiping away some wet streaks of black paint that were beginning to drip down Copia’s freckled cheeks.

The Cardinal sighed quietly, leaning into your gentle touch. “W-well, eh.. Y-You look just as beautiful wet as you do d-dry, Sorella.” He dared to say, nothing but earnestness in his mismatched eyes.

“You like me wet, Cardinal?” You asked coyly, batting your eyelashes at him.

Copia’s breath caught in his throat as he realized the double entendre. “N-No, I! I didn’t mean, I-I was t-trying to say-”

You giggled. “I know what you mean, Co-Co, I’m only teasing.” You smirked, placing the towel back onto the sand before laying down on it, allowing the hot sun to warm you.

“Oh.. Heh heh… Ehh, good one.” Copia sat beside you with a nervous chuckle.

Your friends joined you shortly after, catching some rays and talking amongst themselves.

That is, until Rob started impressing your sisters by doing pushups.

“Wow, you’re so strong!” Emily beamed, clasping her hands together excitedly.

“That’s nothing, ladies! Watch this!” Rob chuckled, beginning to do one-handed pushups.

“Oh my Satan, that’s incredible!” The other sisters squealed in unison, causing you to roll your eyes so hard you thought you might tear your optic nerves.

“Hey. You work out, Rat Man?” Rob asked, coming to stand in front of the two of you, not-so-subtly flexing his muscles.

“Ah, no, I… I, ehm… I don’t…” Copia responded self consciously, timidly shaking his head.

Rob looked the man over. “Well… you should. Might help you out with the ladies.” He shrugged. “Y’know, I do 666 pushups every morning for the glory of Satan.” He bragged, his chiseled chest puffed out like a proud peacock.

The inhibited Cardinal folded his arms over himself, his self esteem nosediving even more than it already had. He remained meek and quiet, unsure of what to say. Surely, he was no match for the boy. Copia felt silly for desiring you so madly when, in reality, you would probably fancy someone younger, better looking, and much more socially apt; like Rob.

But while Rob was boasting something about ‘pumping iron’ and how much girls like ‘swole guys’, you scooter closer to Copia, cupping a hand over his ear.

“Don’t let him bother you. He’s just jealous that I kissed you at the sleepover.” You whispered with a smirk.

Copia’s eyes widened and he turned to look at you, the tip of his pointy nose gently bumping into yours. “D-Davvero..?” He asked, his face reddening as you brought up the best moment of his life.

“Uh huh.” You whispered into his ear once more, pulling him close and hooking your other arm around his neck. “I know the girls told him all the juicy details. He’s probably so mad that you got to have something that he wants but can’t have. You know, I wouldn’t even kiss him if I was dared to.” You giggled quietly.

The poor Cardinal felt as through he’d faint. What was that supposed to mean? You would be willing to break the rules of truth or dare to get out of kissing Rob, yet you didn’t do that when you were dared to kiss him. Could that mean…? Copia inwardly scolded himself. No, no, it couldn’t possibly mean you wanted to kiss him. Surely, you just held more pity for him than you did for Rob. You probably figured that Rob had the potential for other prospects, whereas Copia was a loser who would never be kissed otherwise. It was an act of charity. Nothing more.

“S-Sorella you.. You don’t need to flatter me…” He murmured, looking at you through his lashes, and you only had the chance to grin at the man flirtatiously before you were being interrupted.

“What are you whispering about?” Rob asked once he realized you weren’t listening to him, crossing his arms.

“Oh, just something that happened at the sleepover.” You stated casually. “You wouldn’t understand because you weren’t there.” You articulated with a coy little smirk, causing Rob to let out an annoyed huff.

Copia stared at you in awe. Rob was actually envious of him? Surely, anyone would be envious of the person who got to kiss you, however, Copia wasn’t at all used to the thought of others being jealous of him. Even his high rank in the clergy never compelled a single soul to covet anything about him.

Rob sniffed indignantly, passively muttering something under his breath, trying to act casual and save face as he sat back down in his spot.

“Ew, are you actually having a conversation about your little spit-swapping sesh?” Emily scoffed.

“Yeah, maybe.” You shot back with a sly grin, thrilling Copia with your temerity.

“Giving him some tips, perhaps?” Lilith joked.

“Hmm, I could tutor him. He could be my little pet project.” You hummed, thoughtfully placing a finger to your chin. “I’ll make him the best kisser in the whole damn ministry.”

“Even better than Papa?” Ava giggled, egging you on.

“Yeah, even better than Papa. Don’t tell him I said that, though.” You giggled.

“And how do you expect to turn that,” Emily gestured to the pathetic Cardinal, “into the best kisser in the whole damn ministry?”

You shrugged. “I dunno, but I always heard practice makes perfect.”

You devil, you. Copia stared at you in shock, his breath catching in his throat, chest tightening, face going scarlet. Sweet Lucifer Morningstar, he was- Well, aside from extremely flustered, he was impressed. Copia often wondered where you got so much moxie at such a young age, because, despite being a fifty year old man, he would never have the nerve to be so bold. The Cardinal quite admired that dauntless, borderline reckless quality of yours. He only wished he could be so audacious, but his near-crippling introversion always prevented him; so instead he lived vicariously through you in such moments.

“I like your freckles.” You murmured endearingly. “It seems like there’s more of them now.” You remarked, looking over the smattering on his sun-reddened shoulders and the bridge of his nose.

“O-Oh, g-grazie, Sorella…” Copia’s eyes flicked down to his lap, bashfully wringing his hands together while his poor heart skipped a beat. But… More of them? Oh, for the love of Satan, he forgot to-

“Ah, shit!” Copia huffed out, urgently searching for the sunscreen. “I-I forgot to- to put this on…” He squirted some into his palm, smearing it onto his exposed skin.

“I-I don’t tan well… I just get red and, ehh, a lot more freckles… and I burn.” He explained, rubbing a healthy amount down his legs.

You caught yourself staring at his thighs and the… hefty package between them. Licking your flushed lips, you squirmed in your spot a bit, becoming painfully aware of the blisteringly hot, needy ache deep inside you. Sweet Satan, you were horny for this pitiful little man. As much as you flustered Copia, he somehow managed to have the same maddening effect on you, winding you up with indescribable lust; igniting a whorish spirit in you.

However, despite your flirtatious and sexually confident behaviour towards the Cardinal, you had only ever been with one man; someone in the ministry, someone much older than you. But… it wasn’t a Sibling of Sin. It was short lived, just enough to allow your sexual awakening to blossom, enough to allow you to realize the profound effect you had on others. It was just enough to prepare you for Copia, and now you were ready for him. You wanted him. You wanted to ravish each other in ways that would make Lucifer himself blush.

Shaking the thoughts from your head, you composed yourself and calmed your heaving breasts, inching a bit closer to your Cardinal.

“Oh! Well, we can’t have you burning! Here, you helped me earlier, let me return the favour.” You offered, reaching over and smoothing some cream onto his shoulders, calming the fretful little rat with your enchanting touch. He sighed while you smoothed your hands down his arms before gently dabbing some onto his cheeks, nose, chin, and forehead, taking extra special care of his pretty face.

“There. You’re all set.” You smiled, placing a hand on Copia’s thigh, not missing the way he flinched at how your fingertips almost brushed against the spot where he needed you most.

“W- Eh- G-G-Grazie, Sorella…” He stammered nervously, looking slightly alarmed as he gazed into your eyes.

“No problem.” You murmured, keeping your naughty little hand there for a moment longer before pulling away and laying down to sunbathe.

•𖤐•

After a while of relaxation, you suddenly sat up, regarding Copia.

“Hey, do you know CPR?” You enquired.

“Oh, ehm, n-no I don’t.” The man shook his head.

“Want me to teach you?” You offered. “It’s an important thing to know in case of emergency.”

“O-Okay.” Copia nodded, seemingly impressed by your skill.

Smiling excitedly, you pushed the Cardinal down to lay on his back, kneeling beside him and leaning over to look into his anxious eyes.

“Alright, I’ve just pulled you out of the water. You’re unconscious.” You stated. “First I’ll listen to see if you’re breathing.” You leaned down further, waiting ten seconds.

“Am… Am I breathing, Sorella?” Copia whispered.

“No, you’re not.” You giggled. “So now I’ll start CPR.” You interlocked your fingers together with one hand on top of the other, beginning to mime chest compressions over Copia’s sternum.

“The compressions can’t be too high or too low, just right in between the nipples.” You said, noticing the way Copia’s eyes were fixated on your bouncing breasts. “And the ratio is thirty compressions to two breaths.”

Copia nodded, attempting to stay focused and retain the information. After counting thirty, you halted your movements and gently lifted the Cardinal’s chin, looking into his eyes.

His heart began to hammer wildly in his chest as you dipped down, slowly pressing your lips to his.

Copia gasped against your soft lips, and you stayed there for a moment before pulling away. “One.” You whispered, before placing the second kiss to his open mouth. “And two.” You pulled away, regarding the confounded man with a small smirk on your face.

“There. Did I revive you?” You asked dreamily. Before Copia could nod, you spoke again. “Or.. do you think you need another round?”

Were you saying what Copia thought you were saying? Were you asking if he wanted you to kiss him again?

“W-Well, ehm… P-Perhaps you can, eh, show me again?” The Cardinal warily agreed with you, thinking it too good to be true.

“If the victim remains unconscious, you’ll have to keep doing this until paramedics arrive with an ambulance.” You said, beginning the mock chest compressions again. And although your movements were quick, thirty went by slowly for the Cardinal while he tried not to leer at your breasts and eagerly awaited your lips.

Sure enough, right on cue, you were gently grasping Copia’s chin and dipping down again, your parted lips against his.

Copia sighed in ecstasy, tasting your fruit punch gloss as his painted eyes fluttered closed. And- was it just his imagination, or were these kisses longer than the last ones?

You pulled away for a brief moment before repeating the action, and Copia had to stop himself from wrapping his arms around you. These weren’t supposed to be actual kisses, and he was supposed to be unconscious anyway.

“Are you alive now?” You murmured against the man’s lips, pulling away just enough to look into his pretty mismatched eyes, which were now gazing up at you.

“I-I think so, but… I am not so sure…” He responded quietly. “Because, ehm, w-well, it seems as though I am looking at a b-beautiful fallen angel, si? Perhaps I died and went to paradiso infernale after all…” A shy smile crept onto his face, his blush deepening.

You grinned. Your little rat was getting daring.

“Are you flirting with me, Rat?” You questioned quizzically.

“Eh-! I-I am just telling the truth, Sorella.” Copia faltered, casting his gaze off to the side.

“Hm. You’re sweet.” You smiled, stroking a finger down the Cardinal’s cheek and under his chin, causing him to release a little sigh.

“What in Satan’s name are you even doing?” Emily interjected.

“Teaching Co-Co CPR. Duh?” You shrugged, sitting upright.

“Yeah, no shit, but last time I checked you don’t have to literally kiss while demonstrating it.” She countered, looking disgusted that your lips had actually touched Copia’s, voluntarily this time.

“Yeah, you never did that for me when you taught us how to do it.” Rob smirked. “Maybe I need a refresher, how do you do it again?”

“You literally just got a refresher right now. Don’t think I didn’t see you staring.” You shot back with a smirk of your own.

“Why does he even need to learn CPR? He’s never around anyone and I don’t think it works on rats.” Lilith chimed in, earning giggles from your other friends.

“Well what if something happened to you and no one was around? In case of emergency, he’d know how to do it.” You argued.

“I don’t know about Lilith, but I think I’d rather die than let him do mouth to mouth on me.” Emily scoffed. “So, Rat, if you ever see me passed out somewhere, just walk away.” She laughed.

You rolled your eyes, placing a gentle hand on Copia’s arm while he dejectedly stared down at his lap, averting his humiliated gaze from everyone. He didn’t want them to see the hurt in his eyes while they openly discussed their disgust towards him.

“It’s my turn. Are you gonna revive me?” You whispered close to his ear.

Copia met your eyes briefly and nodded, causing an excited grin to bloom on your pretty face. You laid down on your back, closing your eyes and appearing as insensate as possible. “Alright, I’m unconscious.”

“O-Oh! Ehm!” Copia exclaimed, leaning over you, unsure of what to do. “Ehhh….”

“You have to listen for my breathing first, remember?” You whispered, eyes fluttering open. Grabbing Copia by the collar of his swimsuit, you pushed his face directly into your tits, grinning when you heard a muffled gasp coming from your cleavage.

“Am I breathing?” You asked.

“No…?” Copia responded, his face still pressed against your breasts. Unholy Satanas, what a dream! His heart was pounding in his ears, cock throbbing as he melted into you.

You bit your lip to suppress a giggle when Emily muttered something about the whole situation looking like the beginning of a pornographic film.

“Okay, so you can start CPR now.” You instructed, releasing the man.

Coming up for air, Copia was dazed, his mind blissfully blank as he attempted to regain his composure. He could have kept his face buried in your perfect tits for eternity. And if he would have suffocated? Oh, what a way to go!

Clearing his throat, he interlocked his fingers together just as you had done, getting into position, and-

“That’s too low.” You interrupted, taking Copia’s hands placing them on your breasts, his fingertips brushing against your nipples through the thin fabric of your bikini top.

“S-Sorella, I-!” Copia gasped, eyes widened in alarm, and you slowly dragged his hands across your chest to meet in the middle.

“Right in between the nipples, remember?” You reminded the poor man, and he nodded quickly, biting his lip and lacing his fingers together over your sternum.

Oh, but how could he possibly concentrate when he felt so dirty? You were trying to teach him a valuable skill, and yet here he was being a little creep about it. He hoped you wouldn’t notice, and if you did, he desperately prayed you wouldn’t hold it against him. It wasn’t his fault he was so touch-starved, so deprived of anything close to affectionate all his life. And it also wasn’t his fault that you were so gorgeous. No man would stand a chance against your infernal beauty.

Straightening his arms, he began to nervously practice the chest compressions, counting quietly in Italian under his breath.

“You’re doing very good.” You commented, causing the Cardinal to falter slightly in his movements, his face turning bright red at your praise.

He grew more and more anxious as he approached thirty, knowing what would have to come next.

“Ventotto.. ventinove.. t-trenta.” He finished, staring at you almost fearfully once he was done.

You looked at Copia expectantly, but the man was frozen like a deer in the headlights.

“What, do you forget what you’re supposed to do next?” You questioned. “Were you paying attention while I was teaching you or were you just staring at my tits the whole time like a dirty old man?” You smirked.

Copia’s eyes widened, his lips twitching. He knew what he had to do next but… yes, he had, in fact, been ogling your breasts. Could you blame the poor man? The view had been simply breathtaking.

“I-I-I know w-what to do, eh-”

“Then do it.” You told him. “Come on Rat, resuscitate me, I can feel myself slipping away. I think I see Satan waiting for me at the fiery gates!” You giggled.

Copia sucked in a breath, leaning over you and tilting your chin up with a gentle yet shaking hand. He kept repeating to himself in his head that was just CPR. Nothing more. But his hot flush only worsened when you parted your delectable lips for him. The humid summer air was only made thicker with tension as you gazed up at the Cardinal with those pretty fuck-me eyes, waiting patiently for your salvation.

The pitiful man ever so slowly closed the gap between you both, your senses electrifying as his lips touched yours. You couldn’t escape the small hum of satisfaction, and Copia accidentally released a whimper.

Maybe you weren’t all that different from Terzo after all, because you were so incredibly tempted to snake your arms around the Cardinal and turn mouth-to-mouth into a passionately sinful tongue-kiss.

You had far better resolve than your Papa, however, so you remained still. After all, you loved teasing him like this; allowing him to almost kiss you, but not quite.

Copia pulled away for half a second before eagerly pressing his lips to yours once more, so needy for any sort of contact with you. And you, you were needy for this too. The way his thin moustache tickled your face, the intoxicating scent of his cologne mixed with the fresh smell of sea water, the way he was tilting your chin up so delicately, as if you’d break if he handled you too roughly. What a sweet little mouse; Copia touched you as if you were a priceless treasure.

Reluctantly, he pulled away for good when he heard your friends making comments about how he was a pervert. About how he was enjoying this way too much.

But as soon as he was back in his place, you made a show of sitting upright and falling happily into his arms.

“My hero! You saved me.” You sighed dreamily, wrapping your arms around his neck and brushing a handsome lock of hair from his forehead.

Cupping his jaw in one hand, you pressed a rewarding kiss to his lips. Copia swore he heard the sound of a tea kettle whistling while stars painted his vision; his heart hammering in his chest, hearts in his eyes, and cock throbbing, nearly driving him to insanity. It was lucky that the kiss was brief, otherwise he would have started thumping his foot like an excited dog.

You grinned naughtily at him while he stared at you in giddy awe, huffing out a little chuckle and looking like the happiest man from here to Hell.

Your friends rolled their eyes at your theatrics, muttering things amongst themselves while Rob crossed his arms, trying not to look, but failing. They just couldn’t wrap their minds around the fact that the most popular girl in the ministry would ever waste time with a loser like Copia. They were still waiting for the other shoe to drop, holding onto their theories that you were planning to break his heart eventually.

•𖤐•

“Hey, Rattie?” You nudged Copia.

“S-Si, Sorella?” He looked over to you attentively.

“Do you see that little snack place over there?” You pointed to a cute little shack not too far away. The man glanced to where you were directing him, then turned back to you and nodded.

“Could you see it in your heart to get me a soft serve vanilla ice cream? Pretty please?” You pouted.

A handsome little smile found it’s way onto Copia’s face. “Of course, Sorella.”

“Satan bless you, Cardinal!” You beamed. “Here, I still have the ministry credit card that Sister Imperator gave me.” You said, fishing the rich black card out of your bag and handing it to him.

“Wait, you’re getting ice cream?? I want some too!” Ava whined, followed by the rest of the sisters agreeing, all shouting their orders at the same time.

“S-So, eh, let me get this straight, si? Vaniglia, eh, sorbetto all’arancia, fragola, ehh, cioccolato, menta, e nocciola?” Copia asked, pointing to each person when he listed off their order. Surprisingly, he got it all correct, and began to walk to the snack stand. You giggled to yourself, hearing him quietly chant the string of ice cream flavours over and over again so he wouldn’t forget.

•𖤐•

Copia returned after a while, carefully balancing two trays of ice cream cones in his hands, careful to not let them fall over. Rob, in a surprising act of charity, jumped up and helped the man distribute the cold treats to the other sisters.

The Cardinal was making sheep’s eyes at you while he handed you your cone, which you excitedly thanked him for.

He had gotten the same thing as you- vanilla soft serve- and he was just about to take his first lick, when Rob patted him roughly on the back, causing him to drop the entire thing into the sand.

“Thanks for the ice cream, Cardinal!” Rob said before sitting back down with your friends, not even noticing what he had done.

“Rob, you just made Co-Co drop his ice cream!” You scolded him.

“Huh?” Rob looked over. “Oh, sorry dude.”

“Eh, t-that’s okay, I go get another one, si?” The Cardinal nodded, turning just in time to see the ice cream man walking away after placing a sign on the bar that read ‘Gone for lunch.’

Sighing defeatedly, Copia sat down next to you.

“Share with me, Cardinal.” You offered, holding your cone out to him.

“No, no, I-”

“Oh, won’t you please, Cardinal? It’s so big and it’s already melting. I won’t be able to finish it in time anyway.” You insisted, already moving closer to him.

The man finally gave in with a timid nod, wrapping his hand around yours that was holding the cone, and swiping his tongue through the cold dessert.

You grinned, licking your side of the ice cream and enjoying the sweet taste.

However, your frozen treat was no match for the sweltering sun, and soon, melty white cream was dripping down your and Copia’s wrists. You made quick work to lick it off of yourself, only for more to trickle back down.

Stealing a glance at your Cardinal, you couldn’t help but giggle at the sight of him. He had ice cream dripping down his lips and chin; and he tried to eat faster, but the poor man was being overwhelmed.

“Cardinal, you’re a mess.” You giggled softly, gently cupping his cheek with your hand, grabbing his attention. You moved closer to the blushing man, his mismatched eyes following the drops of ice cream that began to drip onto your breasts and cleavage, a few even falling onto your thighs. Copia swallowed hard, a wave of guilt washing over him as he imagined laving his tongue over your supple flesh, worshipping every inch of you.

You took him by surprise, then, leaning in and licking his lips, causing his widened eyes to snap up and meet your half-lidded ones.

“You’re a sticky mess.” You whispered against his lips, your naughty little tongue teasing at the corner of his mouth.

Copia’s lips parted in a quiet whimper, a pitiful gasp leaving him when you gave him another little lick. Lucifer, he was even more delicious than the ice cream.

“I, ehm… I-I don’t t-think you’re too much better, Sorella…” Copia replied nervously, struggling to meet your gaze.

“You’re right. I guess we’ll just have to lick each other clean.” Your sultry giggle made Copia’s cock twitch. With the ice cream you were holding now almost completely melted, it freely dripped onto the both of you. However, it still wasn’t quite as drippy as Copia’s throbbing cock.

Giving the ice cream one last lick- and accidentally drenching yourself in the process- you tossed the soggy cone into the sand and brought your little hand up, sucking your fingers clean one by one.

Your eyes never left Copia’s, and the man almost seemed hypnotized by the movement of your lips and tongue. You could practically read his mind; you just knew he was imagining you sucking his cock and finally giving him the release he so desperately craved, hungrily drinking down every last drop of his cum.

Biting your lip, you released another naughty giggle as you snaked an arm around the Cardinal’s neck, your parted lips ghosting along his jaw and chin under the guise of licking ice cream off him. He sighed, leaning into you, heady excitement bubbling inside him as your lips just barely touched his. It’s as if you were teasing him, taunting him, daring him to just let go of his inhibitions and kiss you. To kiss you how he really wants to; deeply and passionately and needily.

But the shy Cardinal restrained himself, not believing that’s what you truly wanted. He suspected that his perception of your playful behaviour was clouded by his own fantasies and yearnings. However, he still enjoyed your closeness, small sighs escaping him as his nose brushed against yours.

Copia wrapped an arm around your waist when he felt you tipping backwards, but you only pulled him with you as you laid back on your towel, and the man fell slightly on top of you, stuttering out timid little apologies while you grinned up at him adoringly. He was slotted right in between your legs, fitting together with you perfectly.

Running a finger through the melty cream on your breasts, you licked your fingers, snickering at the Cardinal’s pitifully concupiscent expression while you mercilessly teased him.

Copia blushed furiously. You were laughing at him, weren’t you? Laughing at the way he was so helplessly enthralled by you. Laughing at the way he huffed out quiet little whines every time his cock pulsed. And- oh, how embarrassing; he realized

you could probably feel his thick length throbbing against you, hot and hard and heavy with sheer need.

But his addiction to you mixed with the debilitating summer heat rendered him unable to move. He just laid there, staring down at you with blown out pupils and parted lips.

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pulled Copia closer closer closer, so close that your sticky lips were just barely brushing against his. Every nerve in the man’s body was alit with fiery anticipation, wondering if you were going to kiss him.

“Move. I’m gonna go for a swim to rinse all this ice cream off, if you wanna come.” You murmured.

Disappointed, Copia only swallowed nervously, blinking silently at you.

“Do you want to come, Cardinal? Hm? Do you want to cum?” You smiled innocently, but that naughty gleam in your eyes glinted dangerously.

“Y-yes please, Sorella.” He nodded eagerly, utterly entranced by the sight of you underneath him, your hair spread all around your head like a halo.

“Then get off me, you little creep. I can’t move otherwise.” You giggled softly and rolled your hips against him to snap him out of his trance, causing the poor Cardinal to flush an even deeper shade of red, a strangled moan catching in his throat.

“M-Mi dispiace…” He mumbled, scrambling to get off you. You stood, taking his hand in yours; a soothing balm to his humiliation.

“Where are you guys going?” Rob asked.

“We’re gonna go do 69 behind the snack bar.” You deadpanned, completely shocking everyone, including Copia, who- once again- nearly got whiplash from turning to look at you so quickly.

“We’re going for a swim, duh, what else would we be doing at the beach?” You scoffed, huffing out a light laugh. “We’re all sticky from that melty ice cream and we need to wash off.”

“Oh, thank Lucifer! I thought you were being serious about doing 69 for a second!” Ava laughed, causing the other sisters to titter in amusement. Copia sniffed, feeling sensitive; feeling despondent at how the thought of doing anything intimate with him was used in jest.

“Maybe I wasn’t joking.” You shrugged mindlessly, driving the lot of your friends mad with your arbitrary capriciousness. The Cardinal looked to you once more, a glimmer of hope in his mournful eyes; that little spark of hope soon growing into a roaring wildfire when you took his hand once more and firmly pulled him along in the direction of the snack shop.

“Oh come on!” You heard one of your friends call after you, but you only walked away with greater determination, tugging the dazed Cardinal along with you.

Copia nervously licked his lips once you arrived behind the small building, his anticipation becoming too much to handle as you leaned up against the cool brick, pulling him closer.

“You look scared, Rat. Don’t worry, I won’t deflower you.” You smirked kittenishly, toying with the collar of the man’s swimsuit.

“You.. Eh, y-you won’t..? T-then, ehm, w-why are we..? W-won’t your amici think…?” He questioned, trying to conceal his utter disappointment behind a veil of lighthearted curiosity.

You shrugged. “Let them think what they want. If they want to imagine us devouring each other in the throes of passion, they’re more than welcome to.” You giggled nonchalantly, strategically planting the maddening image in Copia’s mind, and you swore the man was stifling a needy whine.

You gazed at each other in comfortable silence, enjoying the alone time, away from the condemnatory stare of your friends. You could see the yearning in the Cardinal’s mismatched eyes, and you were longing for him too. You were just having way too much fun to do anything about it for now. After a few tension-ridden moments, you took Copia’s hand in yours, pulling him towards the water, looking back at him and flashing him with your pretty smile, causing butterflies to erupt in the man’s stomach.

“Come on, let’s go for a swim!”

•𖤐•

You sighed contentedly, the gentle waves rocking the two of you as you playfully splashed around. You could tell Copia was comfortable in this moment, because your friends were far enough away on the shore, unable to berate him or give him dirty looks.

You enjoyed seeing him like this; a relaxed smile on his handsome face, a healthy pink glow of bashful fondness painting his freckled cheeks every time your body brushed against his.

Suddenly, you spotted something in the crystal clear water, nestled into the ocean floor. You dipped underwater, snatching it up before the current fully buried it in the sand. Inspecting your find, you gasped in delight. How brilliant, a piece of sea glass! But this one was a marvellous cobalt blue in colour.

Reminded of how you’d given pieces of sea glass to the Papas, you waded over to Copia, excitedly presenting him with it.

The Cardinal glanced at the piece of glass, then at you. A gift?

“F-for me?” He asked.

You nodded. “I know it’s not your colour, but I think this is the prettiest one I’ve found so far.” You responded. “It reminds me of you.”

Copia blushed, graciously accepting your gift and taking his time to carefully admire it.

“It’s beautiful, Sorella. S-so I am not sure why it reminds you of me, heh heh..” He chuckled timidly. “I, eh, I quite like this colour actually.”

You smiled endearingly at how delicately Copia handled it.

“Maybe, ehm, maybe this will be my colour. Do you think it suits me?” A little grin tugged at his lips while holding the glass up to his face.

“I think it suits you very well, Cardinal.” You giggled.

“Well, now I feel bad, Sorella, I-I don’t have a gift for you.” The man nervously ran a hand through his damp hair, his painted eyes looking around, searching for something he could give you.

“Ah! Ehm, c-close your eyes please?” He asked, and you eagerly did as he told you, waiting patiently.

For a while, you could only hear the sounds of water, and you wondered what he could possibly be doing. And finally, you felt something wet splat on top of your head.

“No peeking, Sorella.” Copia hummed when he saw your eyelashes fluttering open for a moment.

Whatever he put on your head, he was arranging it around into some sort of-

“Apri i tuoi occhi ora.”

You opened your eyes, bringing your hands up to feel around your head. You smiled brightly, realizing Copia had given you a crown of seaweed.

“Ogni principessa merita una corona..” Copia shyly explained, wringing his hands together trepidatiously.

You fished around for more seaweed, gracefully crowning Copia with it once you’d found a clump.

The man looked at you, appearing slightly confused.

“Allora… Anche ogni principessa merita un principe.” You said, eyes twinkling playfully.

Copia’s love-stricken flush only deepened at your words, shaking his head softly and biting his lip in thought. “Non sono un principe, sono soltanto un ratto.” He smiled sadly.

“Mi piace ratti. Puoi essere il mio principe di ratti.” You giggled softly.

Copia smiled while looking down at the waist-deep water, fiddling with the piece of sea glass in his hands. His painted eyes flicked to yours momentarily, nothing but adoration in them. You truly knew how to make him feel like a prince.

•𖤐•

The two of you made your way back to shore, joining your friends who were clearly in the middle of some gossip, because they all stopped talking as you grew nearer, clearing their throats. Their lively tittering turned into a few hushed snickers while they judgementally looked at Copia.

“What, did you guys get married or something?” Emily questioned.

“No,” you shook your head in amusement, “we just… crowned each other prince and princess of the ocean, I guess.”

“You kissed a rat and he turned into a prince, huh?” Lilith chimed in.

“Something like that. Although I think he’s sort of the perfect hybrid of both.” You giggled, affectionately twirling a lock of Copia’s hair around your finger before laying down on your towel.

“What’s that?” Rob asked, pointing to the sea glass Copia was fidgeting with.

“Eh? Oh, ehm, f-from Sorella.” He responded, a hint of pride in his wavering voice.

“And she didn’t get me anything?” Rob pouted. “Give it here.” He held his hand out.

“No, it’s Co-Co’s!” You placed your hand over top of Copia’s. “I gave it to him because I want him to have it.”

“Yeah and you also wanted him to have those Polaroids of you. Even though he’s probably gonna be a major creep and jerk off to them every night like a lonely virgin. Better stock up on tissues, y’know, for all the nosebleeds he’ll have.” Rob retorted with a shrug.

Copia’s face grew red hot. He’d never! ….well, perhaps one should keep in mind Charles Dickens’ famous saying, ‘never say never.’ But he would genuinely try very very hard not to! Of course, he planned to admire the pictures more often than would be considered appropriate, but he had already previously decided that he wouldn’t befoul your sumptuous image with sordidly perverted activities.

“Is that jealousy I’m sensing, Rob? You’re still salty that Cardi got all those good shots of me and you didn’t get any? Don’t be so petulant.” You teased, your tone an enigmatic mix of lighthearted and snide.

“Of course I’m not jealous of him…” Rob grumbled under his breath, running a hand through his sandy blonde hair, blue eyes rolling in annoyance.

The Cardinal found great solace in you defending him; he knew you probably recognized the fact that he was often too timorous to stand up for himself, so he appreciated your support more than you’d ever know. Perhaps he should put in a request to make you his assistant…

Tucking the little cobalt treasure away with his things, he gave you a grateful smile, his heart fluttering when you gave him a playful wink.

•𖤐•

The sun was just beginning to smoulder low in the sky, its warm rays casting a pinky-orange glow over the whole beach. You’d all ended up going for one last swim before deciding to pack up and head back to the abbey. After wrapping yourself and Copia into your large towel and drying off, you and the other sisters made the boys face away and cover their eyes while you all peeled off your wet swimsuits and put your clothes back on.

“Oh, I didn’t bring any panties because I had my bathing suit on underneath earlier!” You remarked with a giggle. “I guess it doesn’t matter because we’ll be home soon and I’m going to shower straight away.”

Copia perked up at that, biting his lip at the thought of you in those tiny shorts with nothing underneath. Oh, what he’d give to

join you in the shower back at the ministry; kissing feverishly under the warm stream of water, bodies slippery and glistening with soap bubbles.

Once everyone was dressed, you all packed up your things, bringing them to Copia’s car before getting in yourselves. You sighed peacefully, resting your head on the Cardinal’s shoulder and nuzzling into the soft fabric of his hoodie.

“I’m gonna sleep sooo good tonight.” You murmured sleepily, earning sounds of agreement from your friends.

“Will you be okay to drive?” You asked, gazing up at Copia through your lashes, noticing his eyes appeared tired- and not just because of the dark paint he wore around them.

“Si, Sorella, I will be okay.” He reassured you with a nod, starting the car and taking off. With the radio playing low, the drive home was quiet, with you leaning comfortably against Copia on the bench seat of his car, periodically glancing up to admire him, grinning when you caught the man staring at your bare thighs.

•𖤐•

You arrived back at the abbey, carrying your bag inside and bidding your friends a good night, before climbing the large staircase that would lead to your room. Copia’s quarters were also up the stairs, so you slowed your steps, allowing for a precious moment alone with the man.

“Thanks for driving us today, I had a really good time.” You said softly.

“I-It was a pleasure, Sorella. We will have to do again, si?” The Cardinal responded.

“Maybe just us next time.” You mused out loud.

Copia’s eyes lit up with excitement in the low light, his heart beating fast. You wanted to spent time alone with him? He exhaled shakily at the thought, but you didn’t let him think too much about it before you spoke.

“Buonanotte, Principe.” You beamed before turning and walking towards your room, a smile spreading across your face when you heard the blushing man utter a soft, “Buonanotte, Principessa.”

Slinking into your room, you couldn’t wait to take a warm shower and crawl into your plush bed. The only thing that would be missing? A shy Cardinal to snuggle with, of course.

Oh, if only the ministry’s old heating system could fail!

𖤐 to be continued 𖤐

748 notes · View notes

alexiroflife · 3 months

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"seaside beauty"

fluff, quick little fic

armin arlert x reader

Synopsis: during a day out at the beach, armin sees you by the water and falls head over heels

to sum it up: armin didn’t think that his love for the water could get any greater, and then he sees you

WC: 2,473

Warning(s): none none noneeee

“Hurry up, you guys!”

Armin shouts over his shoulder as he makes his way toward the water, his friends following behind slowly. They watch him run off, eager to meet the sparkling sea with his bare feet. He hasn’t even stopped to strip off his shirt or put sunscreen on, his focus set solely on the water with merry eyes.

Eren rolls his eyes as he sets down his belongings alongside Mikasa, picking a spot an equal distance between the car and the water. It’s early in the morning, and Armin had dragged the two of his friends out of bed at the crack of dawn so that they could get to the beach before it got too packed. Luckily for them, only a few people had decided to visit the beach at eight in the morning, for at least others had the mind to catch some more sleep before trekking outside.

Mikasa busies herself by laying out towels as Eren thrusts their umbrella into the sand, grumpily feeling around for a firm hold. He looks up over the frames of his sunglasses to find that Armin’s towel had been tossed nearby, forgotten, into the sand during his march over to the water.

“Armin! Get your ass back here and set your towel up!” he shouts, cupping a hand over his mouth. Mikasa closes her eyes in agitation, Eren’s shout hitting her ear directly before traveling straight across the plain and over to the blonde. The black haired nineteen year old casts a glare over into her boyfriend’s direction, to which he scrunches a brow and shrugs his shoulders with a bothered ‘what?’

Armin hears Eren, but hardly pays him any mind. “Be there in a sec!” he shouts back in a lie, focus captured completely by the vision of the sun rising over the crystal blue water, early morning rays kissing the surface of salt with their radiant gleam.

He sighs, closing his eyes as the sea breeze brushes through his hair and fills his lungs. He adores how the ocean brings him such peace so effortlessly, how the smell of bitter salt mixed into crisp, filtered air washes over him like the shy waves that sweep up to his ankles. He thinks there is no better place to be.

The blonde looks down, strays of yellow hair tickling over his forehead as he bends over, tracing a soft finger lightly over a rigid, pearly shell caught in the sand. He digs his finger into the wet sand, curling the shell up into his pinched fingers. He lifts the shell to his eyeline, looking over the streaks of salmon dented into jagged edges along the chipped, oily surface. The underside is smooth and silky in his palm as he caresses it carefully, imagining what could have washed this fragment of the ocean’s depth onto this very shore.

Eren looks up again after setting up their shaded lounging area and finds that Armin is already distracted by some rock he found. The brunette exhales loudly. “He’s like a little kid,” he comments.

Mikasa hums, fishing around her bag, knelt down on her knee. “You know he loves the water.”

“Yeah, enough to disrupt our peaceful sleep,” he deadpans, settling on his towel to lay back under the umbrella. “Which I plan to finish right now.”

“Not yet, you won’t.” Eren lifts his head to raise a brow at Mikasa as she stands over him with a bottle of sunscreen in hand that she had managed to retrieve from her belongings. “Sit up. You burn easily.”

Eren groans, plopping his head back in a pout.

As Mikasa fights to slather the cold sunscreen onto Eren’s chest, Armin tucks the shell he discovered into the pocket of his swim trunks. He takes a step further into the cold, shallow water touching his upper calves. His eyes search the clear sea around his feet, watching in a squat as small fish swarm freely about his ankles. A soft smile touches his lips and another shell fragment catches his eye.

The nineteen year old reaches his hand into the water, fishing around for the piece. His eyes wander when he captures it, head turning to run over the expanse of the sandy plain behind him. His gaze travels from left to right, passing over his friends and across a couple walking along the shore and a man sunbathing, then to you.

Armin pauses after doing a double take, stare capturing your figure once more. His heart bangs and his breath almost stops when he soaks in the sight of you. You wear a sheer, short white dress over a sage green bikini, your coverup generously revealing the smooth shine of your bare stomach and the accentuated shape of your breasts. The breeze tosses the back of your dress into the air, your sleek, bare thighs absorbing the glow of the sun. Your knees down are dotted with water droplets, glimmering brilliantly along with the sea.

He sees your side profile next, a sunhat shading over your forehead. He thinks you’re smiling by the way your lips curl upward and your cheeks lift. You’re looking out to the horizon, hands clutching the top of your hat so that the wind won’t whisk it away. Your eyes are lit with the kiss of dawn, brightening your glowing (s/c) skin. Though you stand some distance away from Armin with your feet wading in the water, he sees you oh so clearly. And goodness, are you absolutely gorgeous.

You stand amidst the water like an angel that has come down to earth, your linen dress floating over your tender frame like a graceful cloud.

The blonde is frozen, stuck in his position as he stares at you with blown eyes and parted lips. Had you been there all this time, or did you manifest out of thin air like a gentle spirit guarding the sea? Armin swears to himself that it has to be either one of those options, for he does not know how he could have missed a sight as beautiful as you when he walked down to the shore.

When you move, he suddenly realizes that he has been gaping at you like a fish. He shoots up, snapping his eyes begrudgingly away from you and peering down at the new shell in his hands, attempting to appear as though he is preoccupied with anything but you.

He sneaks a glance back over at you to find that you are now sitting down in the shallow water. You bend your knees before you and lower your hands to prop yourself up behind you, watching as the gentle waves crash over your glistening legs. Armin gulps, his mind spinning. He turns over his shoulder to see if he is being watched then looks back at you. His fingers twirl the shell over in his hand, thoughts rushing with curiosity. He wants, all of a sudden, to know who you are, what brings you here, and perhaps if you have a boyfriend.

You’re all alone there, but you don’t seem discontented by the fact. You actually look quite happy to be unburdened by someone’s company, and Armin wonders why. Are you traveling? Do you live nearby? Do you come here often?

He wants to talk to you or to at least get the chance to see your face clearly. You keep turning your head to the side, looking away from him and around you blissfully. It annoys the blonde, for he wants a view of your eyes. He wants to match a soul to its physical beauty. If only he wasn't so modest, so abruptly nervous, he would have marched over to you and asked for your name, seizing the opportunity the moment he saw it.

But he’s intimidated, stunned into uncertainty by your enchanting presence. His mind is a blur, now unsure of what to do with himself and his body. He continues to sneak glances at you then turn back to his hands, hesitation capturing him and gluing him to his spot.

As if summoned by his jumbling thoughts, the wind picks up and sweeps over the water. Ripples spread throughout the surface of the ocean and pick up its speed as it rushes up against the sand. Armin tilts his head up to the sky, feeling his hair blow messily over his eyes and up into the air. He looks over and his eyes widen when he sees the brim of your hat blow upward from the side, the force of the gust brushing it off of your head and into the air.

His stomach drops.

You gasp and reach up haphazardly as your hat flies along with the will of the wind. Armin’s eyes follow it sharply, watching as it whisks over into his direction and just above his head. He drops his shell from his hand, skipping over his feet. He reaches up to the sky as he jogs out, splashing water over his legs. The straw hat almost manages to get away, but Armin grasps it tightly with an outstretched arm before it can blow any further.

He huffs, landing on the sand and lowering the hat from the air and into his hands. He turns around to find that he has traveled quite a ways away, his feet now planted in dry sand. He prepares to move when he sees you heading his way first, sparkling water flying from your hips as you bashfully jog over to him, feet kicking up sand and coverup bouncing lightly over your curves. Your hair, revealed by the absence of your hat, flies back over your shoulders as you run. Armin clamps his mouth shut, his legs taking a few cautious steps forward before you’re right in front of him out of breath. He thinks he’s dreaming when he sees your face before him.

You come to him with a breathless grin, lips stretched stunningly into an apologetic yet amused smile. Your eyes, which Armin discovers are a rich (e/c), settle over him with amiability and warmth. You are slightly shorter than him, tilting your chin to gaze up at his face and catch your breath. Armin grows entirely too aware of the way your chest rises and falls and the quick brush of your tongue or your bottom lip. You are even more drop dead gorgeous up close.

“Hey, good catch!” you chuckle sweetly, a sound melodious in Armin’s buzzing ears. He does not find the words quick enough, ocean blue eyes frozen over your face. A stinging blush pinches his cheeks when he snaps out of his daze, registering the fact that you are there with him, speaking and looking at him.

“S-Sorry,” he stammers, cursing himself internally. “What?”

You press your lips together to suppress a bigger smile, palm swiping over your brow then cupping over your forehead to shield you from the sun. “With my hat,” you clarify, nodding to the article of clothing in his hold. “You caught that so fast. I’m impressed.”

Armin looks down, flustered shamelessly by your generous compliment. He examines the hat then looks back up with raised brows and parted lips. “Oh!” he nods, a nervous smile cracking onto his features. “Yeah, thanks. Didn’t want it getting away from you.”

Your smile grows. “Well, you were definitely successful.”

The timid, low chuckle that spills past Armin’s lips makes him feel foolish. He doesn’t even know who you are, and yet your beauty is practically rendering him incapable of functioning. “Here,” he holds out your hat to you, eyes bouncing between your face and his hands.

You reach out, wet fingers brushing over his when you retrieve your sunhat. Armin shivers at the way your touch is as gentle as your presence and retracts his hands almost immediately. You peer up at him through long lashes, eyes swirling with interest and excitement. Armin trembles, clasping his hands up before him, gaze soaking in your sun kissed face.

Your soft lips stretch as you raise your hat over your head and tug it back on securely. Armin watches, eyes hazy and face glowing pink. A spark buzzes between you, weighing heavily in the air as your eyes lock. Armin can feel spurts of electricity coursing through his veins under your gaze, body throbbing with the pulse of his blood and the rapid beat of his heart. God, you’re so stunning it hurts to look at you. He can feel his throat run dry and his eyes gloss over just by sharing eye contact with you. He feels like he’s going to explode, and he has a sneaking fear that you know.

Your (e/c) orbs dance over him, detailing his pretty face and flushed tan skin. You can tell that you are making him nervous, and you find it cute. You think he’s cute, with his wind tossed blonde hair and light eyelashes surrounding breathtaking sapphire eyes. His anxious bobbing of his Adam’s apple and defined veins running over his slender hands and up under the sleeves of his light t-shirt. He has certainly snatched up your attention, whether he was trying to or not.

Your cheeks pinch with your beam as you bite the corner of your lip nervously, eyes catching the ground momentarily, the intensity of his gaze beginning to agitate your nerves. You fold your arms behind your back and rock on the balls of your heels, hot sand scrunching beneath the pads of your feet and between your painted toes.

“Okay, well,” you begin, fiddling with the hem of your coverup. “Thanks again,” you nod gratefully.

Armin swallows hard, nodding swiftly with a tight anxious smile. “Of course, anytime.”

You smile one more time at him then turn over your shoulder, walking slowly back over to your spot in the water. Armin thinks his heart bursts when you glance back at him, smile stifled and eyes sparkling.

He blinks, staring off hopelessly in a trance, finding that he wishes he would have said more to you.

“Yo, Armin!” Eren’s voice crashes through the almost magical stupor, shattering the bubble that had formed around you and the blonde.

He whips his head into the voice’s direction with a panic, brows suddenly angled and lips tight. He finds Eren waving his hand out from where he lay with Mikasa tucked against his chest. The brunette grins devilishly, lifting his sunglasses so that he can meet his best friend’s eyes from afar.

“Did you get her number?!”

Armin’s eye twitches as he shouts at Eren to shut his mouth, face flushed to all hell. You settle back into your seat in the water, holding in a laugh, and waiting for that blonde to take up his friend’s suggestion and make his way back over to you.

#aot #attack on titan #aot x reader #aot fluff #armin arlert #armin x reader #armin arlert x reader #armin arlert x you #aot fanfiction #aot x you #aot x y/n #aot fandom #attack on titan armin

128 notes · View notes

justjams2003 · 9 months

Text

Fast Pace-6

I do apologize to everyone who has been waiting so so long for this. I was shadowbanned and didn't want to upload anything while, because then you guys can't read it :(. But now, you guys can!

Summary: You're a hard-working Chef in Paris and after a freak accident run-in with Carlos Sainz, your life makes a 180. Let's just say with a certain agreement, you get your bills paid and in return stand in as Carlos' girlfriend for the press. But will you be able to handle the pressure and ensure the lines don't blur?

Pairing: Sugar Daddy!Carlos Sainz x Sugar Baby!Reader

Warnings: I've aged up Carlos, he is 33 in this fic. Smoking, smut, sexual themes, age difference, manipulation, control, slight obsession, the word 'daddy', tell me if I missed any

Dividers by: @firefly-graphics and @s-silk

Taglist: @httpjeonlicious, @f1lov3r, @messersandmesses, @hollie911, @oriconde08 @thehufflepuffavenger1 @fanboyluvr @thatgirlmj @whyamireadingthis @oriconde08 @depressedriches @roseseraj @skepvids @sain55wifey @distinguishedvoidlady @amatswimming @sachaa-ff @lightdragonrayne @lazybot @dark-night-sky-99 @formula1mount @fangirl-dot-com @saintslewis

Word count: 2,9k

Masterlist

Part 5~Part 7

A loud thunder crack causes a few people in the restaurant's head to snap up to the sky. Including my dear Y/N. Is she scared of thunder? Caco did not tell me this.

Usually, my mind would immediately worry about the race. How will the rain affect the car? How will the rain affect the track? How the rain affect my driving? Not now, ever since saw her for the first-time racing has been at the far back of my mind. If Caco or any of the Ferrari team knew this, they’d want to get rid of her as soon as possible. But if she has to leave so do I.

Her big brown eyes look up to me with concern and it just makes me want to wrap her up in my arms and never let go. Now, I worry about her getting wet. She might get sick or slip and fall. I did not bring an umbrella. I bring up my phone and go to dial the driver, but I’m interrupted before I can make the call.

“What are you doing?” Those delicate brows of hers pull together while she asks me. “I’m calling a driver.” We haven’t finished eating, barely halfway through the meal but I’d kick myself if she develops a cold so soon in my care. There is a twinkle in her eyes and a smile pulls at her cheeks. “Why would you do that?” I can’t help but want to know what she is thinking.

“I don’t want you to get sick, querida.” I lean forward, wanting to take her hand and caress it, but I’m not sure if she’ll allow me yet. A small laugh, a gentle one, she’s clearly amused with me, escapes her lips. “I’m sure a little rain won’t hurt. I’m not made of sugar.” She shrugs and can’t imagine that someone has such little care for their well-being. Especially someone as valuable as her.

Consistently, my brow raises. “Care to explain the medical bills I paid then?” Her cheeks light up and her eyes drag down to her shoes again. Now that her hair is down, she insists on hiding behind it. But when her eyes meet me again, she seems to beg for me to forget about it. How could I ever forget anything about her? “In any case, for me you are made candy floss.”

“You know, that reminds me of a poem. The author of it unknown, some people accredit it to Shakespear but clearly, they did not pay attention in English class if they think that. The true poet is unknown, but some consider it to be Qyazzirah Syeikh Ariffin. He says that you love the rain, but you open your umbrella. You love the sun but hide in the shade. It goes on but later he says that he fears what it means to be loved.”

Her words are so captivating, and her mind is something that I’d get lost in. The words she speaks, to me it’s like listening to a professor. One who has studied years to know exactly what they are saying. If she was my teacher, I’d get 100%, because I’d cling to her every word. If I could have her talking forever, I’d make sure I will live forever so that I may hear every word.

“How do you know this?” I ask, needing her to say more. She gives the cutest shrug. “It was between cooking or teaching English. I thought I’d make more money cooking and my parents wanted me to choose something more stable.” My blood boils thinking her parents wouldn’t support her true dream. How could they not see the beauty I see?

“But do you like it? The cheffing I mean.” She seems to think for a moment, biting her lip. If she does it, one more time I wonder if I’ll have control. But I must, I can’t scare her off. I can’t bear to lose her. And I won’t. Not of my own doing and not by anybody else’s. I’ll give her the world and make sure no one can give her anything else or take anything from her.

“Um... I did, at the beginning. When I could move to the centre of France, Paris. When I got to be independent, but it soon turned out to be more than I bargained for. I quickly got sick, because I wasn’t eating well. My mind wanders and it would take my mother calling for me to realise I hadn’t eaten. And then I fell behind on the bills. The stress made me smoke more which made me sicker.” Ah I see.

The big world just got too much for my baby. She’s too small to know how to care for herself. I see now why she needs me so. Her mind wanders to a fantasy world. She wants to be someone big and important. And paramount people don’t have to worry about those small things like what to eat and drinking enough water.

“Are you feeling any withdrawals yet? I know it was a bit thing to ask but you must know that I just want you to be as healthy as possible. So that you can enjoy all the things in life I want to give you.” She gives a coy smile and shakes her head. “No, it’s the least I can do for all you’ve done so far. I thought I’d be stuck with that debt for the rest of my life.”

She rolls her eyes just thinking about it. I could see the moment the money was transferred that her shoulders got lighter, and her smile got brighter. I won’t let another thing in the world affect her like this. Nothing will ever again sit on her shoulders. “If you feel even slightly off tell me immediately.” She nods, hiding her face again.

It irritates me, I want to see her as much as I can. I reach up and tuck her hair behind her ear. I’ll have to get her some hair accessories, just to make sure she doesn’t hide from me anymore.

Because I can get her anything. She has me to provide for her and make sure that she stays in the most pristine condition. Now she can go of in her fantasy world and I’ll stay on earth to make her bubble doesn’t burst. “So, you don’t want to work as a cook anymore?” I need to ask, and I need to know exactly what her dreams consist of so that I may make it a reality.

Again, she bites her lip, and I can feel my trousers grow tight. How on earth has she been roaming this earth? How are people not fighting tooth and nail to be in my position? “I think I’d much prefer something...slower. Less stressful, you know? I’d like to cook, yes, but rather at home or maybe even have my own show!”

The excitement twinkles in her eyes again and I must know more. “When I was younger, my mother would teach me how to cook and I’d always imagine that I'm on a program. We’d watch master chef and I’d always imagine being Christina Tosi or Amandine Chaignot. But even then more than anything I wanted to be involved in fashion. In any shape or form. Even if I had to cook to the models.”

She laughs, ever so slightly and I can see the memories flash behind her eyes. Then it will be so. Then suddenly we can both hear a slight pitter patter fall on the roof top. Her eyes instantly snap right over my shoulder. Watching as the pavement turn from concrete grey to cloudy grey.

“As I was saying before. If it rains I am not afraid to get wet. If it snows I will not be afraid of the cold. And if I ever fall in love I hope I treat it the same.” I can’t help but lean in closer. I can’t help myself. In every sense I need to be as close as possible to her. Even if, for now, I don’t know if she wants me to be as near as I want to be.

But when she looks up at me with those big doe eyes, my actions become uncontrolable. Her gaze makes me feel like a prescious jewel being discovered for the first time. Even if it is her who is Painite, rarer than Diamonds, rarer than Emeralds. Her hands are just too resistable, her skin too soft. I take her hand in mine, but refuse to look anywhere but her hypnotic eyes.

I bring her knuckles to my lips and place a slow, gentle kiss. “You promise?” Her fair cheeks turn a rosy pink colour. She bites her lips and it takes everything in me not to kiss her. “I can’t make any promoses, Carlos. Emotions aren’t to be controlled or guarenteed. They are free and wild and only earned.”

“Then I will earn your heart.”

My heart breaks that I had to leave her, but my personal trainer had been blowing up my phone. I know he’s right. I know I have to keep my body up to standard for the racing. Even then, my mind is still with her. I had let her play in the rain after our late lunch. I could see in her eyes that she so badly wanted to play.

I told her that I’ll buy her everything all over again just to see her happy. Just to see her enjoy herself I’d let her rip the entire hotel appart. This did make her smile and it melted my heart. I didn’t care for the people staring, or the people taking pictures. All I see is the twinkle in her eyes and those cheeks become round with a wide smile.

When I left her, her nose and cheeks were rosy pink and she was cold to the touch. I told her to take a shower and bundle up. I was honestly struggling to keep my head straight while gyming. The thought of the water fallings over those soft curves of hers makes me hot and heavy. It makes me adrenaline go crazy and my mind fuzzy. My trainer said I hit a new PR on the weights.

I had been gone for at least an hour or two, but the sun had long since set. The girls I’d been with before, yes they were kind, yes they were sweet, but they just weren’t her. It was the moment I set my eyes on her in that restuarant, I knew I had to have her. They feared the public eye, they wanted nothing to do with the most important parts of my life. She craves it, she’s there whenever I need her.

I found her curled up on the couch. She’d taken the extra cushions and comforters and build herself a bed there. The blankets are all the way up to her nose. She’s curled into a little ball. Taking up as little space as possible. My heart flutters and my cock goes hard. I need a shower.

Why would she do that? Hadn’t I told her to sleep on the bed? Why does she insist on defying me when all I do is for her betterment? Terco como siempre. I prepare the bed, making sure there isn’t a single then wrong. I pick her up bridal style, up close I can hear the very light snores. She doesn’t wake, however, she cuddles up closer to me. And when I tuck her in nice and close and can’t help but notice how innocent she looks with her new pj’s.

She clings to my shirt when I lay her down, in her subconscious she needs me as much as I need her. More than the money, more than the fame, more than the job. She wants me, she needs me. I am nothing without her and I must make sure that I will never loose her.

After the shower, she’d thrown the duvet off to the side. She’d spread out across the bed and her shirt had ridden up right under her breast. And suddenly I need a cold shower again. Her skin is soft, like a freshly hatched dove. Her skin the same colour too and I can’t but want her to get more sun.

My hands move without control again. Her delicate curves are like a magnet to my body. I make sure to be as soft and slow as I can, to not make a noise. Just slightly hovering above her small body. My lips make contact with the arch of her collarbone, just small gentle kisses. I do not make a sound, but she sure does. Smalls whimpers and whines escape her lips.

Mi pequeña wants this. Still deep in sleep, but her hands grab for me. Yearn for me, like I do to her. Just soft, almost ticklish kisses on her collar. Worshipping her like I so badly want to. But, for now, I won’t take it any further. Call it but a goodnight kiss. I slept on the couch, otherwise, I wouldn’t have been able to control myself.

“Dulce niña, what happened here? Did you hurt yourself while I was gone?” Carlos’ hands come up to your neck. You instantly notice how his hands are big enough to wrap around your entire neck, you’re sure. Your brows intertwine, you know what he’s talking about. You tried curling your hair, to look good if there are cameras, but clearly you need more practice.

His brows furrow and concern fill his eyes. The look in his eyes is the same as last night, in your dreams. You can remember his big stromg arms taking holding you. Of those storming eyes commanding you to scream his name. If he found out about these filthy dreams you had, you’d sink into the ground of embarresment. He’s a classy guy who hasn’t asked for anything more than a smile, now you’re the one thinking of his skin on yours.

Not only that but you woke up in the bed this morning, even after going to bed on the couch. You and your girls had been talking for longer than you’d realised, likely falling asleep while on the phone call. They’d been just as excited as you were about the whole day. Both of them swooning and wishing their partners would do and say what he does.

You heard him coming back while you were getting ready. “No, no, don’t start with that mister.” You say, jabbing him in his chest. He’s sweaty and had clearly just come back from the gym. It’s already 07:30. His eyebrows furrow together. “I told you that I’d sleep on the couch. You are a very important person and need your full rest.”

A smirk forms on his face and it only makes you more annoyed. He crosses his arms and leans back, clearly done listening. “You already take care of me, give me a chance to take care of you. Relationships are 50/50. Even the more...unconventoinal ones.” You can’t help but hold onto his shirt, really wanting to drive the point home. “I agree, you tell me what you want and I give it to you. 50/50.”

You fold your arms together and roll your eyes. “Vous êtes impossible.” Something compared to a growl escapes his throat. He pulls you close to him by the hips. “I like it when you talk French to me.” Then his hand grazes your collar again. “Now tell me, what happened.” Concern is etched into his eyes and his touch is as gently as can be.

You shrug, “I wanted to curl my hair, but I haven’t used the curling iron in a few years...” He looks confronted with your words. “If you know you can’t use it, why risk hurting yourself.” He tucks a strand of now wavy hair behind your ear. You shrug and look up at him, “I wanted to impress you.” He lets out a loud laugh and takes your face in his hands.

“You’re too cute. What’d I do to have someone like you share a hotel room with me?” His eyes look and it makes you feel so warm inside. “You paid me,” your answer is blunt but the truth. You’re still not entirely sure where you stand in this strange relationship. He laughs just like before, “That reminds me, I got you something.”

He then opens his gym bag and then pulls out a handfull of things. He hands them to you and you can see it’s a bunch of hair accesories. A gold headband, a gold claw clip and some scrunchies of various colours. You furrow your brows at him and he ecplains himself by taking the headband and carefully guiding it across your hair. “I don’t like how you hide from me. This should make sure that you can’t anymore.” Your cheeks go pink, he noticed.

“Can I ask you a really strange question?” You’re not sure why now you decided to ask the question that’s been forming in your bind. It just slipped out and when he looks at you like that you don’t have much control anymore. “Always.” He smiles, still fixing your hair. “Do I have to call you daddy?”

His hand stops and his eyes meet yours. He forms a slight grin and then pulls your closer by the shoulders. He bends down low and then whispers in your ear. “Only when you want something.”

My taglist is open, just ask!

#carlos sainz #carlos sainz jr #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz smut #sugar daddy!carlos sainz x sugar baby!reader #sugar daddy!carlos sainz #sugar daddy!carlos sainz x reader #formula one #formula 1 #f1 #formula 1 x reader #f 1 x reader #f1 xreader

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writingduhh · 11 months

Text

Jschlatt || Beach House

This was requested!! Thanks so much for the lovely idea! ❤️

“could i request a Jschlatt x reader set in like lunch club era and schlatts rlly awkward and always blushing around reader 🤭”

In the cozy beach house where Schlatt and his friends had gathered for a weekend getaway, an atmosphere of laughter and camaraderie enveloped the group. The waves crashed gently outside as the group played games, and shared stories, but amidst the fun and chaos, there was something Schlatt simply couldn't ignore—the enchanting presence of Y/N.

Y/N embodied everything Schlatt admired—smart, funny, and incredibly kind. Every time they graced the room, his heart performed a lively waltz, and his cheeks turned the deepest shade of red.

Y/N had always been on Schlatt's mind, but now that they were all spending time together, his crush was impossible to ignore. He couldn't help but feel flustered every time they were near, and it seemed like everyone else in the group had picked up on his feelings—everyone except Y/N.

On the first day of the trip, the sun beamed its blissful rays across the ground while a gentle breeze caressed the air. The perfect weather prompted the group's decision to head to the beach.

"Who's ready to go?" You asked, emerging from the bathroom, clad in a swimsuit that momentarily left Schlatt spellbound.

He couldn't help but stare as you entered the room, your confidence and smile shining like a lighthouse, causing Schlatt's heart to race.

"I'm ready to go, and I've got the cooler packed with drinks and snacks," Ted grinned, motioning toward the cooler in his hands.

"I've got a speaker for some music," Cooper added.

"Y/N, do you need help carrying anything?" Schlatt bashfully offered.

"Sure! You could carry the umbrella and chairs,"

Eagerly, he grabbed the umbrella while holding a few beach chairs under his arm, following you out to the car. Together, they loaded up the car.

"Thanks for helping me, you're such a sweetheart," You grinned, playfully leaning into his shoulder.

"Of course, it's no problem," he responded, attempting to keep his cool. On the inside, however, he was a delightful mess, utterly flustered by their touch.

Together, the group squeezed into the car, leaving no room for you, prompting Ted's playful suggestion.

"Hey, Y/N, you could sit on Schlatt's lap," Ted suggested, earning laughter and smirks from the rest of the group.

"You can come sit, I don't mind," Schlatt remarked, giving you warm smile as he patted his knee.

Accepting his offer, you nestled into the car and onto his lap, completely unaware of Schlatt's tomato-red face.

"Thanks for letting me sit here," You softly laughed.

"Of course! Do you mind if I, uh, put my arms around you?" He asked, his arms encircling your waist with a hint of flirtatiousness in his tone.

"That's totally fine," You assured, their heart fluttering as he held them, creating an atmosphere charged with unspoken attraction.

The car ride was filled with cheerful singing, plans for beach activities, and teasing about Y/N sitting on Schlatt's lap, all contributing to the tantalizing atmosphere.

Once at the beach, everyone disembarked, collecting their belongings. As he had done earlier, Schlatt assisted you with your items, searching for the perfect spot on the beach.

"How about there?" Schlatt suggested, pointing to a lovely clearing on the beach, his tone containing a touch of charming assurance.

The group voiced their unanimous approval, but the chemistry between Schlatt and Y/N was undeniable.

After setting up an umbrella, chairs, and coolers, everyone set out for a day of beachside fun.

Sitting in the shade, Schlatt noticed you struggling to apply sunscreen to their back, an opportunity he seized with a flirtatious smile.

"Would you like some help there, Y/N?" Schlatt offered with a suggestive glint in his eye.

"Yeah, that would be great," You bashfully admitted, adding a hint of coyness to the mix.

"Turn around," he commanded with a dash of authority, gently rubbing the lotion onto your back. His touch was deliberate and affectionate, causing a delightful shiver to run down your spine.

In that moment, the unspoken attraction between you two became impossible to ignore. You couldn't help but blush as you felt Schlatt's hands glide across their back. These feelings had been there for some time, silently acknowledged but never confessed, and they both knew it. But the allure of what could be was too becoming too captivating to resist.

Under the warm sun and with the soothing sounds of the ocean in the background, the flirtatious banter between the two of you take on a life of its own. As you all relaxed in the beach chairs, Schlatt, who was seated next to you, couldn't resist the temptation to continue their playful exchange.

With a sly grin, he said, "You know, Y/N, I must say this beach trip just got a whole lot better with you here."

Your cheeks flushed as they responded, "Well, Schlatt, it wouldn't be the same without you either."

Ted, who was lying in a nearby beach lounger, chimed in with a mischievous glint in his eye, "You two seem to be having a great time. Schlatt, should we start taking bets on when you'll finally confess your feelings to Y/N?"

Schlatt's face turned even redder, but he managed to quip, "Oh, come on, Ted. We're just good friends enjoying the beach together."

You chuckled and leaned in a little closer, their tone filled with playful teasing. "Is that so, Schlatt? Friends don't usually rub sunscreen on each other's backs."

Schlatt's heart raced as he considered the implications of your words. With a sheepish grin, he replied, "Well, that's just being a helpful friend, isn't it?"

The group erupted in laughter, and the playful atmosphere continued as you enjoyed the day at the beach. But beneath the laughter and jokes, the unspoken connection between you and Schlatt grew stronger, and it was clear to everyone that there was something more than friendship blooming under the sun's embrace.

After an eventful day at the beach, the group returned to their beach house, a mixture of sun-kissed and tired, with the golden hues of sunset painting the room in warm, fading light. Laughter, saltwater-soaked hair, and sandy feet filled the air as they entered, a sense of satisfaction permeating the room.

Exhausted and ready to unwind, they exchanged their swimsuits for comfy clothes. Hoodies and sweatpants replaced bikinis and trunks, and the group gathered in the living room, settling onto the oversized couch.

Yawns and sighs of contentment filled the room as they made themselves comfortable. Ted, Cooper, and the others found their spots on the couch and within moments, their eyes were glued to the TV screen as they picked a movie for the evening.

As the film started, the room fell into a cozy hush, the only sounds being the characters on the screen and the occasional popcorn crunch.

However, as the night progressed you became aware of the chill in the as the air.

Schlatt noticed your discomfort and, with a warm smile, he offered, "Are you cold? You can come closer, you know."

You hesitated for a moment, but the temptation of warmth and comfort won out. You shifted closer to Schlatt, who wrapped his arm around them, pulling them gently toward him.

Throughout the movie, You and Schlatt found yourselves nestled together, their bodies comfortably intertwined, legs entwined under a shared blanket. The room was filled with a sense of togetherness and silent connection, only the glow of the screen illuminating their features.

As the night wore on, the others started to drift off to sleep, one by one. The living room grew quieter, and some headed to their respective rooms.

Feeling the weight of exhaustion and the allure of a comfortable bed, you began to rise from your cuddled position with Schlatt. But just as you were about to leave, Schlatt gently held your hand and stopped your.

"Y/N, before you go," Schlatt began, a hint of vulnerability in his eyes, "there's something I've been meaning to tell you."

You looked at him, their curiosity piqued. "What is it, Schlatt?"

He took a deep breath, his gaze unwavering, and confessed, "I've had feelings for you for a while now. I don’t want to ruin our friendship, but after tonight I just have to tell you.”

You’re eyes softened, and a small smile tugged at the corner of your lips. "You know, Schlatt, I've felt the same way."

In that moment, the world seemed to hold its breath. The attraction you’d both felt but never dared to acknowledge was suddenly brought into the open. Your lips met in a tender, heartfelt kiss, sealing their feelings with a promise of something beautiful and genuine.

As you pulled away from the kiss, you shared a knowing smile and then, hand in hand, headed to their room to continue their night, no longer just friends, but something more.

#chuckle sandwich #chuckle sammy #jschlatt x reader #jschlatt hcs #jschlatt #jschlatt fluff #jschlatt imagines #jschlatt headcanons #jschlatt imagine #jschlatt fanfic #jschlatt x you #schlatt hcs #schlatt x you #schlatt imagine #schlatt x reader #schlatt #lunch club

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robobarbie · 6 months

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Robo pls, what is the backstory behind big marty??

if you are brave, you may read it

know that this is a tragic and terrible backstory but

it is important to know

just as important as big marty itself is

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

So, there's a man crawling through the desert.

He'd decided to try his SUV in a little bit of cross-country travel, had great fun zooming over the badlands and through the sand, got lost, hit a big rock, and then he couldn't get it started again. There were no cell phone towers anywhere near, so his cell phone was useless. He had no family, his parents had died a few years before in an auto accident, and his few friends had no idea he was out here.

He stayed with the car for a day or so, but his one bottle of water ran out and he was getting thirsty. He thought maybe he knew the direction back, now that he'd paid attention to the sun, and thought he'd figured out which way was north, so he decided to start walking. He figured he only had to go about 30 miles or so and he'd be back to the small town he'd gotten gas in last.

He thinks about walking at night to avoid the heat and sun, but based upon how dark it actually was the night before, and given that he has no flashlight, he's afraid that he'll break a leg or step on a rattlesnake. So, he puts on some sun block, puts the rest in his pocket for reapplication later, brings an umbrella he'd had in the back of the SUV with him to give him a little shade, pours the windshield wiper fluid into his water bottle in case he gets that desperate, brings his pocket knife in case he finds a cactus that looks like it might have water in it, and heads out in the direction he thinks is right.

He walks for the entire day. By the end of the day he's really thirsty. He's been sweating all day, and his lips are starting to crack. He's reapplied the sunblock twice, and tried to stay under the umbrella, but he still feels sunburned. The windshield wiper fluid sloshing in the bottle in his pocket is really getting tempting now. He knows that it's mainly water and some ethanol and coloring, but he also knows that they add some kind of poison to it to keep people from drinking it. He wonders what the poison is, and whether the poison would be worse than dying of thirst.

He pushes on, trying to get to that small town before dark.

By the end of the day, he starts getting worried. He figures he's been walking at least three miles an hour, according to his watch for over ten hours. That means that if his estimate was right, he should be close to the town. Unfortunately, he doesn't recognize any of this. He had to cross a dry creek bed a mile or two back, and he doesn't remember coming through it in the SUV. He figures that maybe he got his direction off just a little and that the dry creek bed was just off to one side of his path. He tells himself that he's close, and that after dark he'll start seeing the town lights over one of these hills. That'll be all he needs.

As it gets dim enough that he starts stumbling over small rocks and things, he finds a spot and sits down to wait for full dark and the town lights.

Full dark comes before he knows it. He must have dozed off. He stands back up and turns all the way around. He sees nothing but stars.

He wakes up the next morning feeling absolutely lousy. His eyes are gummy and his mouth and nose feel like they're full of sand. He’s so thirsty that he can't even swallow. He barely got any sleep because it was so cold. He'd forgotten how cold it got at night in the desert and hadn't noticed it the night before because he'd been in his car.

He knows the Rule of Threes - three minutes without air, three days without water, three weeks without food - then you die. Some people can make it a little longer, in the best situations. The desert heat and having to walk and sweat isn't the best situation to be in without water. Unless he finds water, he figures, this is his last day.

He rinses out his mouth with a little of the windshield wiper fluid. He waits for a while after spitting that little bit out to see if his mouth goes numb, or he feels dizzy or something. Has his mouth gone numb? Is it just in his mind? He's not sure. He'll go a little farther, and if he still doesn't find water, he'll try drinking some of the fluid.

Then he has to face his next, harder question - which way does he go from here? Does he keep walking the same way as yesterday (assuming that he still knows which way that is), or does he try a new direction? He has no idea what to do.

Looking at the hills and dunes around him, he thinks he knows the direction he was heading before. Just going by a feeling, he points himself somewhat to the left of that, and starts walking.

As he walks, the day starts heating up. The desert, too cold just a couple of hours before, soon becomes an oven again. He sweats a little at first, and then stops. He starts getting worried at that. He knows that when you stop sweating, you’re in trouble. It’s usually right before heat stroke..

He decides that it's time to try the windshield wiper fluid. He can't wait any longer - if he passes out, he's dead. He stops in the shade of a large rock, takes the bottle out, opens it, and takes a mouthful. He slowly swallows it, making it last as long as he can. It feels so good in his dry and cracked throat that he doesn't even care about the nasty taste. He takes another mouthful, and makes it last too. Slowly, he drinks half the bottle. He figures that since he's drinking it, he might as well drink enough to make some difference and keep himself from passing out.

He's quit worrying about the denaturing of the wiper fluid. If it kills him, it kills him. If he didn't drink it, he'd die anyway. Besides, he's pretty sure that whatever substance they denature the fluid with is just designed to make you sick: their way of keeping winos from buying cheap wiper fluid for the ethanol content. He can handle throwing up if it comes to that.

He walks. He walks in the hot, dry, windless desert. Sand, rocks, hills, dunes, the occasional scrawny cactus or dried bush. No sign of water. Sometimes he'll see a little movement to one side or the other, but whatever moved is usually gone before he can focus his eyes on it. Probably birds, lizards, or mice. Maybe snakes, though they usually move more at night. He's careful to stay away from the movements.

After a while, he begins to stagger. He's not sure if it's fatigue, heat stroke finally catching him, or maybe he was wrong and the denaturing of the wiper fluid was worse than he thought. He tries to steady himself and keep going.

After more walking, he comes to a large stretch of sand. This is good! He knows he passed over a stretch of sand in the SUV - he remembers doing donuts in it, or at least he thinks he remembers it; he's getting woozy enough and tired enough that he's not sure what he remembers anymore or if he's hallucinating. He thinks he remembers it, so he heads off into it, trying to get to the other side, hoping that it gets him closer to the town.

He was heading for a town, wasn't he? He thinks he was. He isn't sure anymore. He's not even sure how long he's been walking anymore. Is it still morning? Has it moved into afternoon, and the sun is going down again? It must be afternoon; it seems like it's been too long since he started out.

He walks through the sand.

After a while, he comes to a big dune in the sand. This is bad. He doesn't remember any dunes from when he was driving over the sand in his SUV. At least he doesn't think he remembers any. This is bad.

All the same, he has no other direction to go. Too late to turn back now. He figures that he'll get to the top of the dune and see if he can see anything from there that can help him find the town. He keeps going up the dune.

Halfway up, he slips in the bad footing of the sand for the second or third time and falls to his knees. He doesn't feel like getting back up, since he'll just fall down again. He keeps going up the dune on his hand and knees.

While crawling, if his throat weren't so dry, he'd laugh. He's finally gotten to the hackneyed image of a man lost in the desert, crawling through the sand on his hands and knees. It would be the perfect image, he imagines, if only his clothes were more ragged. The people crawling through the desert in the cartoons always had ragged clothes, but his have lasted without any rips so far. Somebody will probably find his dessicated corpse half buried in the sand years from now, and his clothes will still be in fine shape - shake the sand out, give them a good wash, and they'd be wearable again. He wishes his throat were wet enough to laugh. He coughs a little instead, and it hurts.

He finally makes it to the top of the sand dune. Now that he's at the top, he struggles a little, but manages to stand up and look around. All he sees is sand. Sand and more sand. Behind him, about a mile away, he thinks he sees the rocky ground he left to head into this sand. Ahead of him, more dunes, more sand. This isn't where he drove his SUV. This is Hell. Or close enough.

Again, he doesn't know what to do. He decides to drink the rest of the wiper fluid while figuring it out. He takes out the bottle and starts removing the cap when he glances to the side and sees something. Something in the sand. At the bottom of the dune, off to the side, he sees something strange. It's a flat area, in the sand. He stops opening the bottle and tries to look closer. The area seems to be circular, and it's dark: darker than the sand, and there seems to be something in the middle of it, but he can't tell what it is, so he looks as hard as he can but still can't tell from here. He's going to have to go down there and look.

He puts the bottle back into his pocket, and starts to stumble down the dune. After a few steps, he realizes that he's in trouble; he's not going to be able to keep his balance. After a couple more sliding, tottering steps, he falls and starts to roll down the dune. The sand it so hot that he thinks he's caught fire on the way down - like a movie car wreck flashing into flames as it goes over the cliff, before it ever even hits the ground. He closes his eyes and mouth, covers his face with his hands, and waits to stop rolling.

He stops at the bottom of the dune. After a minute or two, he finds enough energy to try to sit up and get the sand out of his face and clothes. When he clears his eyes enough, he looks around to make sure that the dark spot in the sand it still there and he hadn't just imagined it.

Seeing the large, flat, dark spot on the sand still there, he crawls towards it. He'd get up and walk towards it, but he doesn't seem to have the energy to get up and walk right now. He must be in the final stages of dehydration he figures as he crawls. If this place in the sand doesn't have water, he'll likely never make it anywhere else. This is his last chance.

He gets closer and closer, but still can't see what's in the middle of the dark area. It’s hard to focus, and lifting his head up to look takes so much effort that he gives up trying. He just keeps crawling.

Finally, he reaches the area he'd seen from the dune. It takes him a minute of crawling on it before he realizes that he's no longer on sand - he's now crawling on some kind of dark stone. Stone with some kind of marking on it - a pattern cut into the stone. He's too tired to stand up and try to see what the pattern is, so he just keeps crawling. He crawls towards the center where his blurry eyes still see something in the middle of the dark stone area.

His mind, detached in a strange way, notes that either his hands and knees are so burnt by the sand that they no longer feel pain, or that this dark stone, in the middle of a burning desert with a pounding, punishing sun overhead, doesn't seem to be hot. It almost feels cool. He considers lying down on the nice cool surface.

Cool, dark stone. Not a good sign. He must be hallucinating this. He's probably in the middle of a patch of sand, already lying face down and dying, and just imagining this whole thing. A desert mirage. Soon the beautiful women carrying pitchers of water will come up and start giving him a drink. Then he'll know he's gone.

He decides against laying down on the cool stone. If he's going to die here in the middle of this hallucination, he at least wants to see what's in the center before he goes. He keeps crawling.

It's the third time that he hears the voice before he realizes what he's hearing. He would swear that someone just said, "Greetings, traveler. You do not look well. Do you hear me?"

He stops crawling. He tries to look up from where he is on his hands and knees, but it's too much effort to lift his head. So he tries something different: he rolls over and leans back trying to sit up on the stone. After a few seconds, he catches his balance, avoids falling on his face, sits up, and tries to focus his eyes. Blurry. He rubs his eyes with the back of his hands and tries again. Better this time.

Yep. He can see. He's sitting in the middle of a large, flat, dark expanse of stone. Directly next to him, about three feet away, is a white post or pole about two inches in diameter and sticking about four or five feet out of the stone, at an angle.

And wrapped around this white rod is what must be a fifteen foot long desert diamondback rattlesnake, with a hovering tail and rattle seemingly prepared to start rattling, looking directly at him.

He stares at the snake in shock. He doesn't have the energy to get up and run away. He doesn't even have the energy to crawl away. This is it: his final resting place. No matter what happens, he's not going to be able to move from this spot.

Well, at least dying from a bite from this monster should be quicker than dying of thirst. He'll face his end like a man. He struggles to sit up a little straighter. The snake keeps watching him. He lifts one hand and flicks it in the snake's direction, feebly. The snake watches the hand for a moment, then goes back to watching the man, looking into his eyes.

Hmmm. Maybe the snake has no interest in biting him. It hasn't rattled yet - that’s a good sign. Maybe he isn't going to die of snake bite after all.

He then remembers that he'd looked up when he'd reached the center here because he thought he'd heard a voice. He is still very woozy; he feels like he might pass out soon. The sun still beats down on him even though he is now on cool stone. He still doesn't have anything to drink. Although maybe he had actually heard a voice. This stone doesn't look natural. Nor does that white post sticking up out of the stone. Someone must have built this. Maybe they are still nearby. Maybe that was who talked to him. Maybe this snake is even their pet, and that's why it isn't biting.

He tries to clear his throat to say, "Hello," but he’s too dry. All that comes out is a coughing or wheezing sound. There's no way he's going to be able to talk without something to drink. He feels his pocket, and the bottle with the wiper fluid is still there. He shakily pulls out the bottle, almost losing his balance and falling on his back in the process. This isn't good. He doesn't have much time left by his reckoning before he passes out.

He gets the bottle open, manages to get the bottle to his lips, and pours some of the fluid into his mouth. He sloshes it around, and then swallows it. He coughs a little. His throat feels better. Maybe he can talk now.

He tries again. Ignoring the snake, he turns to look around him, hoping to spot the owner of this place, and croaks out, "Hello? Is there anyone here?"

He hears, from his side, "Greetings. What is it that you want?"

He turns his head back towards the snake. That's where the sound seemed to come from. The only thing he can think of is that there must be a speaker hidden under the snake, or maybe built into that post. He decides to try asking for help.

"Please," he croaks again, suddenly feeling dizzy, "I'd love to not be thirsty anymore. I've been without water for a long time. Can you help me?"

Looking in the direction of the snake, hoping to see where the voice was coming from this time, he is shocked to see the snake rear back, open its mouth, and speak. He hears it say, as the dizziness overtakes him and he falls forward, face first on the stone, "Very well. Coming up."

A piercing pain shoots through his shoulder. Suddenly he is awake. He sits up and grabs his shoulder, wincing at the throbbing pain. He's momentarily disoriented as he looks around, and then he remembers: the crawl across the sand, the dark area of stone, the snake. He sees the snake, still wrapped around the tilted white post, still looking at him.

He reaches up and feels his shoulder, where it hurts. It feels slightly wet. He pulls his fingers away and looks at them - blood. He feels his shoulder again - it feels like his shirt has two holes in it - two puncture holes. They match up with the two aching spots of pain on his shoulder. He has been bitten. By the snake.

"It'll feel better in a minute." He looks up - it's the snake talking. He hadn't dreamed it. Suddenly he notices - he's not dizzy anymore. And more importantly, he's not thirsty anymore - at all!

"Have I died? Is this the afterlife? Why are you biting me in the afterlife?"

"Sorry about that, but I had to bite you," says the snake. "That's the way I work. It all comes through the bite. Think of it as natural medicine."

"You bit me to help me? Why aren't I thirsty anymore? Did you give me a drink before you bit me? How did I drink enough while unconscious to not be thirsty anymore? I haven't had a drink for over two days. Well, except for the windshield wiper fluid... hold it, how in the world does a snake talk? Are you real? Are you some sort of Disney animation?"

"No," says the snake, "I'm real. As real as you or anyone is, anyway. I didn't give you a drink. I bit you. That's how it works, it's what I do. I bite. Plus I don't have hands to give you a drink, even if I had water just sitting around here."

The man sat stunned for a minute. Here he was, sitting in the middle of the desert on some strange stone that should be hot but wasn't, talking to a snake that could talk back and had just bitten him. And he felt better. Not great - he was still starving and exhausted, but much better - he was no longer thirsty. He had started to sweat again, but only slightly. He felt hot, in this sun, but it was starting to get lower in the sky, and the cool stone beneath him was a relief he could notice now that he was no longer dying of thirst.

"I might suggest that we take care of that methanol you now have in your system with the next request," continued the snake. "I can guess why you drank it, but I'm not sure how much you drank, or how much methanol was left in the wiper fluid. That stuff is nasty. It'll make you go blind in a day or two, if you drank enough of it."

"Ummm, n-next request?" said the man. He put his hand back on his hurting shoulder and backed away from the snake a little.

"That's the way it works. If you like, that is," explained the snake. "You get three requests. Call them wishes, if you wish." The snake grinned at his own joke, and the man drew back a little further from the show of fangs.

"But there are rules," the snake continued. "The first request is free. The second requires an agreement of secrecy. The third requires the binding of responsibility." The snake looks at the man seriously.

"By the way," the snake says suddenly, "my name is Nathan. Old Nathan, Samuel used to call me. He gave me the name. Before that, most of the Bound used to just call me 'Snake'. But that got old, and Samuel wouldn't stand for it. He said that anything that could talk needed a name. He was big into names. You can call me Nate, if you wish." Again, the snake grinned. "Sorry if I don't offer to shake, but I think you can understand - my shake sounds somewhat threatening." The snake give his rattle a little shake.

"Umm, my name is Jack," said the man, trying to absorb all of this. "Jack Samson."

"Can I ask you a question?" Jack says suddenly. "What happened to the venom...umm, in your bite. Why aren't I dying now? How did you do that? What do you mean by that's how you work?"

"That's more than one question," grins Nate. "But I'll still try to answer all of them. First, yes, you can ask me a question." The snake's grin gets wider. "Second, the venom is in you. It changed you. You now no longer need to drink. That's what you asked for. Or, well, technically, you asked to not be thirsty any more - but 'any more' is such a vague term. I decided to make it permanent - now, as long as you live, you shouldn't need to drink much at all. Your body will conserve water very efficiently. You should be able to get enough just from the food you eat - much like a creature of the desert. You've been changed.

"For the third question," Nate continues, "you are still dying. Besides the effects of that methanol in your system, you're a man - and men are mortal. In your current state, I give you no more than about another 50 years. Assuming you get out of this desert, alive, that is." Nate seemed vastly amused at his own humor, and continued his wide grin.

"As for the fourth question," Nate said, looking more serious as far as Jack could tell, as Jack was just now working on his ability to read talking-snake emotions from snake facial features, "first you have to agree to make a second request and become bound by the secrecy, or I can't tell you."

"Wait," joked Jack, "isn't this where you say you could tell me, but you'd have to kill me?"

"I thought that was implied." Nate continued to look serious.

"Ummm...yeah." Jack leaned back a little as he remembered again that he was talking to a fifteen foot venomous reptile with a reputation for having a nasty temper. "So, what is this 'Bound by Secrecy' stuff, and can you really stop the effects of the methanol?" Jack thought for a second. "And, what do you mean methanol, anyway? I thought these days they use ethanol in wiper fluid, and just denature it?"

"They may, I don't really know," said Nate. "I haven't gotten out in a while. Maybe they do. All I know is that I smell methanol on your breath and on that bottle in your pocket. And the blue color of the liquid when you pulled it out to drink some let me guess that it was wiper fluid. I assume that they still color wiper fluid blue?"

"Yeah, they do," said Jack.

"I figured," replied Nate. "As for being bound by secrecy - with the fulfillment of your next request, you will be bound to say nothing about me, this place, or any of the information I will tell you after that, when you decide to go back out to your kind. You won't be allowed to talk about me, write about me, use sign language, charades, or even act in a way that will lead someone to guess correctly about me. You'll be bound to secrecy. Of course, I'll also ask you to promise not to give me away, and as I'm guessing that you're a man of your word, you'll never test the binding anyway, so you won't notice." Nate said the last part with utter confidence.

Jack, who had always prided himself on being a man of his word, felt a little nervous at this. "Ummm, hey, Nate, who are you? How did you know that? Are you, umm, omniscient, or something?"

Well, Jack," said Nate sadly, "I can't tell you that, unless you make the second request." Nate looked away for a minute, then looked back.

"Umm, well, ok," said Jack, "what is this about a second request? What can I ask for? Are you allowed to tell me that?"

"Sure!" said Nate, brightening. "You're allowed to ask for changes. Changes to yourself. They're like wishes, but they can only affect you. Oh, and before you ask, I can't give you immortality. Or omniscience. Or omnipresence, for that matter. Though I might be able to make you gaseous and yet remain alive, and then you could spread through the atmosphere and sort of be omnipresent. But what good would that be - you still wouldn't be omniscient and thus still could only focus on one thing at a time. Not very useful, at least in my opinion." Nate stopped when he realized that Jack was staring at him.

"Well, anyway," continued Nate, "I'd probably suggest giving you permanent good health. It would negate the methanol now in your system, you'd be immune to most poisons and diseases, and you'd tend to live a very long time, barring accident, of course. And you'll even have a tendency to recover from accidents well. It always seemed like a good choice for a request to me."

"Cure the methanol poisoning, huh?" said Jack. "And keep me healthy for a long time? Hmmm. It doesn't sound bad at that. And it has to be a request about a change to me? I can't ask to be rich, right? Because that's not really a change to me?"

"Right," nodded Nate.

"Could I ask to be a genius and permanently healthy?" Jack asked, hopefully.

"That takes two requests, Jack."

"Yeah, I figured so," said Jack. "But I could ask to be a genius? I could become the smartest scientist in the world? Or the best athlete?"

"Well, I could make you very smart," admitted Nate, "but that wouldn't necessarily make you the best scientist in the world. Or, I could make you very athletic, but it wouldn't necessarily make you the best athlete either. You've heard the saying that 99% of genius is hard work? Well, there's some truth to that. I can give you the talent, but I can't make you work hard. It all depends on what you decide to do with it."

"Hmmm," said Jack. "Ok, I think I understand. And I get a third request, after this one?"

"Maybe," said Nate, "it depends on what you decide then. There are more rules for the third request that I can only tell you about after the second request. You know how it goes." Nate looked like he'd shrug, if he had shoulders.

"Ok, well, since I'd rather not be blind in a day or two, and permanent health doesn't sound bad, then consider that my second request. Officially. Do I need to sign in blood or something?"

"No," said Nate. "Just hold out your hand. Or heel." Nate grinned. "Or whatever part you want me to bite. I have to bite you again. Like I said, that's how it works - the venom, you know," Nate said apologetically.

Jack winced a little and felt his shoulder, where the last bite was. Hey, it didn't hurt any more. Just like Nate had said. That made Jack feel better about the biting business. But still, standing still while a fifteen foot snake sunk it's fangs into you. Jack stood up. Ignoring how good it felt to be able to stand again, and the hunger starting to gnaw at his stomach, Jack tried to decide where he wanted to get bitten. Despite knowing that it wouldn't hurt for long, Jack knew that this wasn't going to be easy.

"Hey, Jack," Nate suddenly said, looking past Jack towards the dunes behind him, "is that someone else coming up over there?"

Jack spun around and looked. Who else could be out here in the middle of nowhere? And did they bring food?

Wait a minute, there was nobody over there. What was Nate...

Jack let out a bellow as he felt two fangs sink into his rear end, through his jeans...

Jack sat down carefully, favoring his more tender buttock. "I would have decided, eventually, Nate. I was just thinking about it. You didn't have to hoodwink me like that."

"I've been doing this a long time, Jack," said Nate, confidently. "You humans have a hard time sitting still and letting a snake bite you - especially one my size. And besides, admit it - it's only been a couple of minutes and it already doesn't hurt any more, does it? That's because of the health benefit with this one. I told you that you'd heal quickly now."

"Yeah, well, still," said Jack, "it's the principle of the thing. And nobody likes being bitten in the butt! Couldn't you have gotten my calf or something instead?"

"More meat in the typical human butt," replied Nate. "And less chance you accidentally kick me or move at the last second."

"Yeah, right. So, tell me all of these wonderful secrets that I now qualify to hear," answered Jack.

"Ok," said Nate. "Do you want to ask questions first, or do you want me to just start talking?"

"Just talk," said Jack. "I'll sit here and try to not think about food."

"We could go try to rustle up some food for you first, if you like," answered Nate.

"Hey! You didn't tell me you had food around here, Nate!" Jack jumped up. "What do we have? Am I in walking distance to town? Or can you magically whip up food along with your other powers?" Jack was almost shouting with excitement. His stomach had been growling for hours.

"I was thinking more like I could flush something out of its hole and bite it for you, and you could skin it and eat it. Assuming you have a knife, that is," replied Nate, with the grin that Jack was starting to get used to.

"Ugh," said Jack, sitting back down. "I think I'll pass. I can last a little longer before I get desperate enough to eat desert rat, or whatever else it is you find out here. And there's nothing to burn - I'd have to eat it raw. No thanks. Just talk."

"Ok," replied Nate, still grinning. "But I'd better hurry, before you start looking at me as food.

Nate reared back a little, looked around for a second, and then continued. "You, Jack, are sitting in the middle of the Garden of Eden."

Jack looked around at the sand and dunes and then looked back at Nate sceptically.

"Well, that's the best I can figure it, anyway, Jack," said Nate. "Stand up and look at the symbol on the rock here." Nate gestured around the dark stone they were both sitting on with his nose.

Jack stood up and looked. Carved into the stone in a bas-relief was a representation of a large tree. The angled-pole that Nate was wrapped around was coming out of the trunk of the tree, right below where the main branches left the trunk to reach out across the stone. It was very well done - it looked more like a tree had been reduced to almost two dimensions and embedded in the stone than it did like a carving.

Jack walked around and looked at the details in the fading light of the setting sun. He wished he'd looked at it while the sun was higher in the sky.

Wait! The sun was setting! That meant he was going to have to spend another night out here! Arrrgh!

Jack looked out across the desert for a little bit, and then came back and stood next to Nate. "In all the excitement, I almost forgot, Nate," said Jack. "Which way is it back to town? And how far? I'm eventually going to have to head back - I'm not sure I'll be able to survive by eating raw desert critters for long. And even if I can, I'm not sure I'll want to."

"It's about 30 miles that way." Nate pointed, with the rattle on his tail this time. As far as Jack could tell, it was a direction at right angles to the way he'd been going when he was crawling here. "But that's 30 miles by the way the crow flies. It's about 40 by the way a man walks. You should be able to do it in about half a day with your improved endurance, if you head out early tomorrow, Jack."

Jack looked out the way the snake had pointed for a few seconds more, and then sat back down. It was getting dark. Not much he could do about heading out right now. And besides, Nate was just about to get to the interesting stuff. "Garden of Eden? As best as you can figure it?"

"Well, yeah, as best as I and Samuel could figure it anyway," said Nate. "He figured that the story just got a little mixed up. You know, snake, in a 'tree', offering 'temptations', making bargains. That kind stuff. But he could never quite figure out how the Hebrews found out about this spot from across the ocean. He worried about that for a while."

"Garden of Eden, hunh?" said Jack. "How long have you been here, Nate?"

"No idea, really," replied Nate. "A long time. It never occurred to me to count years, until recently, and by then, of course, it was too late. But I do remember when this whole place was green, so I figure it's been thousands of years, at least."

"So, are you the snake that tempted Eve?" said Jack.

"Beats me," said Nate. "Maybe. I can't remember if the first one of your kind that I talked to was female or not, and I never got a name, but it could have been. And I suppose she could have considered my offer to grant requests a 'temptation', though I've rarely had refusals."

"Well, umm, how did you get here then? And why is that white pole stuck out of the stone there?" asked Jack.

"Dad left me here. Or, I assume it was my dad. It was another snake - much bigger than I was back then. I remember talking to him, but I don't remember if it was in a language, or just kind of understanding what he wanted. But one day, he brought me to this stone, told me about it, and asked me to do something for him. I talked it over with him for a while, then agreed. I've been here ever since.

"What is this place?" said Jack. "And what did he ask you to do?"

"Well, you see this pole here, sticking out of the stone?" Nate loosened his coils around the tilted white pole and showed Jack where it descended into the stone. The pole was tilted at about a 45 degree angle and seemed to enter the stone in an eighteen inch slot cut into the stone. Jack leaned over and looked. The slot was dark and the pole went down into it as far as Jack could see in the dim light. Jack reached out to touch the pole, but Nate was suddenly there in the way.

"You can't touch that yet, Jack," said Nate.

"Why not?" asked Jack.

"I haven't explained it to you yet," replied Nate.

"Well, it kinda looks like a lever or something," said Jack. "You'd push it that way, and it would move in the slot."

"Yep, that's what it is," replied Nate.

"What does it do?" asked Jack. "End the world?"

"Oh, no," said Nate. "Nothing that drastic. It just ends humanity. I call it 'The Lever of Doom'." For the last few words Nate had used a deeper, ringing voice. He tried to look serious for a few seconds, and then gave up and grinned.

Jack was initially startled by Nate's pronouncement, but when Nate grinned Jack laughed. "Ha! You almost had me fooled for a second there. What does it really do?"

"Oh, it really ends humanity, like I said," smirked Nate. "I just thought the voice I used was funny, didn't you?"

Nate continued to grin.

"A lever to end humanity?" asked Jack. "What in the world is that for? Why would anyone need to end humanity?"

"Well," replied Nate, "I get the idea that maybe humanity was an experiment. Or maybe the Big Guy just thought, that if humanity started going really bad, there should be a way to end it. I'm not really sure. All I know are the rules, and the guesses that Samuel and I had about why it's here. I didn't think to ask back when I started here."

"Rules? What rules?" asked Jack.

"The rules are that I can't tell anybody about it or let them touch it unless they agree to be bound to secrecy by a bite. And that only one human can be bound in that way at a time. That's it." explained Nate.

Jack looked somewhat shocked. "You mean that I could pull the lever now? You'd let me end humanity?"

"Yep," replied Nate, "if you want to." Nate looked at Jack carefully. "Do you want to, Jack?"

"Umm, no." said Jack, stepping a little further back from the lever. "Why in the world would anyone want to end humanity? It'd take a psychotic to want that! Or worse, a suicidal psychotic, because it would kill him too, wouldn't it?"

"Yep," replied Nate, "being as he'd be human too."

"Has anyone ever seriously considered it?" asked Jack. "Any of those bound to secrecy, that is?"

"Well, of course, I think they've all seriously considered it at one time or another. Being given that kind of responsibility makes you sit down and think, or so I'm told. Samuel considered it several times. He'd often get disgusted with humanity, come out here, and just hold the lever for a while. But he never pulled it. Or you wouldn't be here." Nate grinned some more.

Jack sat down, well back from the lever. He looked thoughtful and puzzled at the same time. After a bit, he said, "So this makes me the Judge of humanity? I get to decide whether they keep going or just end? Me?"

"That seems to be it," agreed Nate.

"What kind of criteria do I use to decide?" said Jack. "How do I make this decision? Am I supposed to decide if they're good? Or too many of them are bad? Or that they're going the wrong way? Is there a set of rules for that?"

"Nope," replied Nate. "You pretty much just have to decide on your own. It's up to you, however you want to decide it. I guess that you're just supposed to know."

"But what if I get mad at someone? Or some girl dumps me and I feel horrible? Couldn't I make a mistake? How do I know that I won't screw up?" protested Jack.

Nate gave his kind of snake-like shrug again. "You don't. You just have to try your best, Jack."

Jack sat there for a while, staring off into the desert that was rapidly getting dark, chewing on a fingernail.

Suddenly, Jack turned around and looked at the snake. "Nate, was Samuel the one bound to this before me?"

"Yep," replied Nate. "He was a good guy. Talked to me a lot. Taught me to read and brought me books. I think I still have a good pile of them buried in the sand around here somewhere. I still miss him. He died a few months ago."

"Sounds like a good guy," agreed Jack. "How did he handle this, when you first told him. What did he do?"

"Well," said Nate, "he sat down for a while, thought about it for a bit, and then asked me some questions, much like you're doing."

"What did he ask you, if you're allowed to tell me?" asked Jack.

"He asked me about the third request," replied Nate.

"Aha!" It was Jack's turn to grin. "And what did you tell him?"

"I told him the rules for the third request. That to get the third request you have to agree to this whole thing. That if it ever comes to the point that you really think that humanity should be ended, that you'll come here and end it. You won't avoid it, and you won't wimp out." Nate looked serious again. "And you'll be bound to do it too, Jack."

"Hmmm." Jack looked back out into the darkness for a while.

Nate watched him, waiting.

"Nate," continued Jack, quietly, eventually. "What did Samuel ask for with his third request?"

Nate sounded like he was grinning again as he replied, also quietly, "Wisdom, Jack. He asked for wisdom. As much as I could give him."

"Ok," said Jack, suddenly, standing up and facing away from Nate, "give it to me.

Nate looked at Jack's backside. "Give you what, Jack?"

"Give me that wisdom. The same stuff that Samuel asked for. If it helped him, maybe it'll help me too." Jack turned his head to look back over his shoulder at Nate. "It did help him, right?"

"He said it did," replied Nate. "But he seemed a little quieter afterward. Like he had a lot to think about."

"Well, yeah, I can see that," said Jack. "So, give it to me." Jack turned to face away from Nate again, bent over slightly and tensed up.

Nate watched Jack tense up with a little exasperation. If he bit Jack now, Jack would likely jump out of his skin and maybe hurt them both.

"You remember that you'll be bound to destroy humanity if it ever looks like it needs it, right Jack?" asked Nate, shifting position.

"Yeah, yeah, I got that," replied Jack, eyes squeezed tightly shut and body tense, not noticing the change in direction of Nate's voice.

"And," continued Nate, from his new position, "do you remember that you'll turn bright purple, and grow big horns and extra eyes?"

"Yeah, yeah...Hey, wait a minute!" said Jack, opening his eyes, straightening up and turning around. "Purple?!" He didn't see Nate there. With the moonlight Jack could see that the lever extended up from its slot in the rock without the snake wrapped around it.

Jack heard, from behind him, Nate's "Just Kidding!" right before he felt the now familiar piercing pain, this time in the other buttock.

Jack sat on the edge of the dark stone in the rapidly cooling air, his feet extending out into the sand. He stared out into the darkness, listening to the wind stir the sand, occasionally rubbing his butt where he'd been recently bitten.

Nate had left for a little while, had come back with a desert-rodent-shaped bulge somewhere in his middle, and was now wrapped back around the lever, his tongue flicking out into the desert night's air the only sign that he was still awake.

Occasionally Jack, with his toes absentmindedly digging in the sand while he thought, would ask Nate a question without turning around.

"Nate, do accidents count?"

Nate lifted his head a little bit. "What do you mean, Jack?"

Jack tilted his head back like he was looking at the stars. "You know, accidents. If I accidentally fall on the lever, without meaning to, does that still wipe out humanity?"

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure it does, Jack. I'd suggest you be careful about that if you start feeling wobbly," said Nate with some amusement.

A little later - "Does it have to be me that pulls the lever?" asked Jack.

"That's the rule, Jack. Nobody else can pull it," answered Nate.

"No," Jack shook his head, "I meant does it have to be my hand? Could I pull the lever with a rope tied around it? Or push it with a stick? Or throw a rock?"

"Yes, those should work," replied Nate. "Though I'm not sure how complicated you could get. Samuel thought about trying to build some kind of remote control for it once, but gave it up. Everything he'd build would be gone by the next sunrise, if it was touching the stone, or over it. I told him that in the past others that had been bound had tried to bury the lever so they wouldn't be tempted to pull it, but every time the stones or sand or whatever had disappeared."

"Wow," said Jack, "Cool." Jack leaned back until only his elbows kept him off of the stone and looked up into the sky.

"Nate, how long did Samuel live? One of his wishes was for health too, right?" asked Jack.

"Yes," replied Nate, "it was. He lived 167 years, Jack."

"Wow, 167 years. That's almost 140 more years I'll live if I live as long. Do you know what he died of, Nate?"

"He died of getting tired of living, Jack," Nate said, sounding somewhat sad.

Jack turned his head to look at Nate in the starlight.

Nate looked back. "Samuel knew he wasn't going to be able to stay in society. He figured that they'd eventually see him still alive and start questioning it, so he decided that he'd have to disappear after a while. He faked his death once, but changed his mind - he decided it was too early and he could stay for a little longer. He wasn't very fond of mankind, but he liked the attention. Most of the time, anyway.

"His daughter and then his wife dying almost did him in though. He didn't stay in society much longer after that. He eventually came out here to spend time talking to me and thinking about pulling the lever. A few months ago he told me he'd had enough. It was his time."

"And then he just died?" asked Jack.

Nate shook his head a little. "He made his fourth request, Jack. There's only one thing you can ask for the fourth request. The last bite.

After a bit Nate continued, "He told me that he was tired, that it was his time. He reassured me that someone new would show up soon, like they always had.

After another pause, Nate finished, "Samuel's body disappeared off the stone with the sunrise."

Jack lay back down and looked at the sky, leaving Nate alone with his memories. It was a long time until Jack's breathing evened out into sleep.

Jack woke with the sunrise the next morning. He was a little chilled with the morning desert air, but overall was feeling pretty good. Well, except that his stomach was grumbling and he wasn't willing to eat raw desert rat.

So, after getting directions to town from Nate, making sure he knew how to get back, and reassuring Nate that he'd be back soon, Jack started the long walk back to town. With his new health and Nate's good directions, he made it back easily.

Jack caught a bus back to the city, and showed up for work the next day, little worse for the wear and with a story about getting lost in the desert and walking back out. Within a couple of days Jack had talked a friend with a tow truck into going back out into the desert with him to fetch the SUV. They found it after a couple of hours of searching and towed it back without incident. Jack was careful not to even look in the direction of Nate's lever, though their path back didn't come within sight of it.

Before the next weekend, Jack had gone to a couple of stores, including a book store, and had gotten his SUV back from the mechanic, with a warning to avoid any more joyriding in the desert. On Saturday, Jack headed back to see Nate.

Jack parked a little way out of the small town near Nate, loaded up his new backpack with camping gear and the things he was bringing for Nate, and then started walking. He figured that walking would leave the least trail, and he knew that while not many people camped in the desert, it wasn't unheard of, and shouldn't really raise suspicions.

Jack had brought more books for Nate - recent books, magazines, newspapers. Some things that would catch Nate up with what was happening in the world, others that were just good books to read. He spent the weekend with Nate, and then headed out again, telling Nate that he'd be back again soon, but that he had things to do first.

Over four months later Jack was back to see Nate again. This time he brought a laptop with him - a specially modified laptop. It had a solar recharger, special filters and seals to keep out the sand, a satellite link-up, and a special keyboard and joystick that Jack hoped that a fifteen-foot rattlesnake would be able to use. And, it had been hacked to not give out its location to the satellite.

After that Jack could e-mail Nate to keep in touch, but still visited him fairly regularly - at least once or twice a year.

After the first year, Jack quit his job. For some reason, with the wisdom he'd been given, and the knowledge that he could live for over 150 years, working in a nine to five job for someone else didn't seem that worthwhile any more. Jack went back to school.

Eventually, Jack started writing. Perhaps because of the wisdom, or perhaps because of his new perspective, he wrote well. People liked what he wrote, and he became well known for it. After a time, Jack bought an RV and started traveling around the country for book signings and readings.

But, he still remembered to drop by and visit Nate occasionally.

On one of the visits Nate seemed quieter than usual. Not that Nate had been a fountain of joy lately. Jack's best guess was that Nate was still missing Samuel, and though Jack had tried, he still hadn't been able to replace Samuel in Nate's eyes. Nate had been getting quieter each visit. But on this visit Nate didn't even speak when Jack walked up to the lever. He nodded at Jack, and then went back to staring into the desert. Jack, respecting Nate's silence, sat down and waited.

After a few minutes, Nate spoke. "Jack, I have someone to introduce you to."

Jack looked surprised. "Someone to introduce me to?" Jack looked around, and then looked carefully back at Nate. "This something to do with the Big Guy?

"No, no," replied Nate. "This is more personal. I want you to meet my son." Nate looked over at the nearest sand dune. "Sammy!"

Jack watched as a four foot long desert rattlesnake crawled from behind the dune and up to the stone base of the lever.

"Yo, Jack," said the new, much smaller snake.

"Yo, Sammy" replied Jack. Jack looked at Nate. "Named after Samuel, I assume?"

Nate nodded. "Jack, I've got a favor to ask you. Could you show Sammy around for me?" Nate unwrapped himself from the lever and slithered over to the edge of the stone and looked across the sands. "When Samuel first told me about the world, and brought me books and pictures, I wished that I could go see it. I wanted to see the great forests, the canyons, the cities, even the other deserts, to see if they felt and smelled the same. I want my son to have that chance - to see the world. Before he becomes bound here like I have been.

"He's seen it in pictures, over the computer that you brought me. But I hear that it's not the same. That being there is different. I want him to have that. Think you can do that for me, Jack?"

Jack nodded. This was obviously very important to Nate, so Jack didn't even joke about taking a talking rattlesnake out to see the world. "Yeah, I can do that for you, Nate. Is that all you need?" Jack could sense that was something more.

Nate looked at Sammy. Sammy looked back at Nate for a second and then said, "Oh, yeah. Ummm, I've gotta go pack. Back in a little bit Jack. Nice to meet ya!" Sammy slithered back over the dune and out of sight.

Nate watched Sammy disappear and then looked back at Jack. "Jack, this is my first son. My first offspring through all the years. You don't even want to know what it took for me to find a mate." Nate grinned to himself. "But anyway, I had a son for a reason. I'm tired. I'm ready for it to be over. I needed a replacement."

Jack considered this for a minute. "So, you're ready to come see the world, and you wanted him to watch the lever while you were gone?"

Nate shook his head. "No, Jack - you're a better guesser than that. You've already figured out - I'm bound here - there's only one way for me to leave here. And I'm ready. It's my time to die."

Jack looked more closely at Nate. He could tell Nate had thought about this - probably for quite a while. Jack had trouble imagining what it would be like to be as old as Nate, but Jack could already tell that in another hundred or two hundred years, he might be getting tired of life himself. Jack could understand Samuel's decision, and now Nate's. So, all Jack said was, "What do you want me to do?"

Nate nodded. "Thanks, Jack. I only want two things. One - show Sammy around the world - let him get his fill of it, until he's ready to come back here and take over. Two - give me the fourth request.

"I can't just decide to die, not any more than you can. I won't even die of old age like you eventually will, even though it'll be a long time from now. I need to be killed. Once Sammy is back here, ready to take over, I'll be able to die. And I need you to kill me.

"I've even thought about how. Poisons and other drugs won't work on me. And I've seen pictures of snakes that were shot - some of them live for days, so that's out too. So, I want you to bring back a sword.

Nate turned away to look back to the dune that Sammy had gone behind. "I'd say an axe, but that's somewhat undignified - putting my head on the ground or a chopping block like that. No, I like a sword. A time-honored way of going out. A dignified way to die. And, most importantly, it should work, even on me.

"You willing to do that for me, Jack?" Nate turned back to look at Jack.

"Yeah, Nate," replied Jack solemnly, "I think I can handle that."

Nate nodded. "Good!" He turned back toward the dune and shouted, "Sammy! Jack's about ready to leave!" Then quietly, "Thanks, Jack."

Jack didn't have anything to say to that, so he waited for Sammy to make it back to the lever, nodded to him, nodded a final time to Nate, and then headed into the desert with Sammy following.

Over the next several years Sammy and Jack kept in touch with Nate through e-mail as they went about their adventures. They made a goal of visiting every country in the world, and did a respectable job of it. Sammy had a natural gift for languages, as Jack expected he would, and even ended up acting as a translator for Jack in a few of the countries. Jack managed to keep the talking rattlesnake hidden, even so, and by the time they were nearing the end of their tour of countries, Sammy had only been spotted a few times. While there were several people that had seen enough to startle them greatly, nobody had enough evidence to prove anything, and while a few wild rumors and stories followed Jack and Sammy around, nothing ever hit the newspapers or the public in general.

When they finished the tour of countries, Jack suggested that they try some undersea diving. They did. And spelunking. They did that too. Sammy finally drew the line at visiting Antarctica. He'd come to realize that Jack was stalling. After talking to his Dad about it over e-mail, he figured out that Jack probably didn't want to have to kill Nate. Nate told Sammy that humans could be squeamish about killing friends and acquaintances.

So, Sammy eventually put his tail down (as he didn't have a foot) and told Jack that it was time - he was ready to go back and take up his duties from his dad. Jack, delayed it a little more by insisting that they go back to Japan and buy an appropriate sword. He even stretched it a little more by getting lessons in how to use the sword. But, eventually, he'd learned as much as he was likely to without dedicating his life to it, and was definitely competent enough to take the head off of a snake. It was time to head back and see Nate.

When they got back to the US, Jack got the old RV out of storage where he and Sammy had left it after their tour of the fifty states, he loaded up Sammy and the sword, and they headed for the desert.

When they got to the small town that Jack had been trying to find those years ago when he'd met Nate, Jack was in a funk. He didn't really feel like walking all of the way out there. Not only that, but he'd forgotten to figure the travel time correctly, and it was late afternoon. They'd either have to spend the night in town and walk out tomorrow, or walk in the dark.

As Jack was afraid that if he waited one more night he might lose his resolve, he decided that he'd go ahead and drive the RV out there. It was only going to be this once, and Jack would go back and cover the tracks afterward. They ought to be able to make it out there by nightfall if they drove, and then they could get it over tonight.

Jack told Sammy to e-mail Nate that they were coming as he drove out of sight of the town on the road. They then pulled off the road and headed out into the desert.

Everything went well, until they got to the sand dunes. Jack had been nursing the RV along the whole time, over the rocks, through the creek beds, revving the engine the few times they almost got stuck. When they came to the dunes, Jack didn't really think about it, he just downshifted and headed up the first one. By the third dune, Jack started to regret that he'd decided to try driving on the sand. The RV was fishtailling and losing traction. Jack was having to work it up each dune slowly and was trying to keep from losing control each time they came over the top and slid down the other side. Sammy had come up to sit in the passenger seat, coiled up and laughing at Jack's driving.

As they came over the top of the fourth dune, the biggest one yet, Jack saw that this was the final dune - the stone, the lever, and somewhere Nate, waited below. Jack put on the brakes, but he'd gone a little too far. The RV started slipping down the other side.

Jack tried turning the wheel, but he didn't have enough traction. He pumped the brakes - no response. They started sliding down the hill, faster and faster.

Jack felt a shock go through him as he suddenly realized that they were heading for the lever. He looked down - the RV was directly on course for it. If Jack didn't do something, the RV would hit it. He was about to end humanity.

Jack steered more frantically, trying to get traction. It still wasn't working. The dune was too steep, and the sand too loose. In a split second, Jack realized that his only chance would be once he hit the stone around the lever - he should have traction on the stone for just a second before he hit the lever - he wouldn't have time to stop, but he should be able to steer away.

Jack took a better grip on the steering wheel and tried to turn the RV a little bit - every little bit would help. He'd have to time his turn just right.

The RV got to the bottom of the dune, sliding at an amazing speed in the sand. Just before they reached the stone Jack looked across it to check that they were still heading for the lever. They were. But Jack noticed something else that he hadn't seen from the top of the dune. Nate wasn't wrapped around the lever. He was off to the side of the lever, but still on the stone, waiting for them. The problem was, he was waiting on the same side of the lever that Jack had picked to steer towards to avoid the lever. The RV was already starting to drift that way a little in its mad rush across the sand and there was no way that Jack was going to be able to go around the lever to the other side.

Jack had an instant of realization. He was either going to have to hit the lever, or run over Nate. He glanced over at Sammy and saw that Sammy realized the same thing.

Jack took a firmer grip on the steering wheel as the RV ran up on the stone. Shouting to Sammy as he pulled the steering wheel, "Better Nate than lever!", he ran over the snake.

THE END

#bp ask #anon ask #big marty

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razypie · 1 year

Text

Colors of Different Hue (You) || Gun Park x Reader

cw: a bit graphic in one of the scenes, wc: ~5.2k summary: gun is a lovesick idiot but doesn't want to admit it third-person pov, fem nurse!reader, ooc gun (my delulu version actually), and reaally fast-paced a/n: heavily-inspired by 'Hotarubi no Mori e' story-telling, so there are lotsa flashbacks hehe

"Oooh, look who’s got a date today!" Goo giggled as he peeked back from the wooden porch facing his partner's backyard.

Gun almost had uncharacteristically gotten on his knees in front of the chairman to let him off on this specific day, and now this weapon freak's presence was about to wreck the day before it started.

"Not now, Goo. Why the hell are you even here?" Gun fixed his tie in front of his wide half-length mirror, scooped a generous amount of gel, and brushed his hair back neatly.

"Oh, come on, I was getting bored. Samuel wasn't picking up because of his Workers' Affiliate BS, and Logan has exams this week. For real? That guy should drop out already, it's no use."

"So you decided to stroll your way here to annoy me instead?"

"You got that right!" The blonde eyesore jumped up and hopped his way on square concrete blocks to one of the bamboo trees lined up along the fence.

"Whatever. You better leave the house before I do, or I'll stick that bamboo shoot you just pulled up your ass." Gun warned his house's intruder, who reached out to one of the young bamboo plants.

"Not everything is a katana, you anime samurai wannabe." He picked up his sunglasses and black coat and made his way to his Porsche parked in the space opposite the bamboo trees.

"Says the guy who bought a Japanese mansion in the middle of nowhere." Goo huffed a childish pout. "Jeez, I was gonna use these for cooking snacks, but you just had to give me a disgusting picture."

He gave the man in the car a side glance and sighed. "I was doing you a favor here, man."

The morning sun radiated a warm glow on the dark sheen of Gun's sunglasses as he swiftly drove through the outskirts of Seoul. The wide stretches of green pastures emerging from both sides of the road whistled a soft tune into his ears.

Unlike most people who want to live in extravagance with cameras shoved in their faces every single moment, there were times when Gun preferred to settle in a remote area, far from the reeks of city lights, where he could be alone with himself, his thoughts, and his hard-earned (i.e. bloodstained) money.

But of course, the nature of his work required Gun to be by his employer's side around the clock else his grand funeral wouldn't be much later.

So he made the best of these hand-picked moments when he could persuade his boss to grant him off-days.

Gun has the whole map of Seoul memorized from his monthly crusades and made that mental map involuntarily take the wheel and let his mind wander off for a while.

He pulled his car to a stop in front of a flower shop. As he got out, he noticed a gray umbrella hanging on a covered shed's railing.

'That bastard still owes me for that… and a shit-ton of money for losing in every bet.' But then again, he wouldn't have met Y/N if Goo didn't break his umbrella.

'Hah. No way I’m telling him.'

It was a stormy night with distant rumbles of thunder.

His eyes landed on a small figure of a lady in front of him and a bit to his right; the two were taking refuge under a mono-sloped roof of a bus stop.

Even with thick layers of bright-colored clothing enveloping her figure, Gun noticed her shivering with her arms crossed to her chest gripping her shoulders.

The man had nothing to do anyways beside impatiently waiting until the rain wanes, and everything else around him was too dull and gray to entertain him. So, his eyes remained on the peculiar lady, the only other color he could see; a color that penetrated even the darkest tints of his shades.

He examined her.

'The hell is up with this woman? It's not even that cold.'

Gun turned up an amused grin at the memory as he stopped over at a flower shop. He grabbed his coat and caught a whiff of lavender-scented detergent he recognized as Y/N's.

'Oh. It's her again.' Gun recognized the woman from the other day who had now crouched down to check his injuries. He tried telling her off but to no avail.

"I knew you were a gangster five meters away, dumbhead, but that doesn't mean these 'scratches' (as you called them) will heal themselves… I'm only here to do my job."

'Okay, lady. Be my pest.'

He yielded and rested his back against the brick wall at the end of an alleyway where this meddlesome woman found him.

A light trail of lavender caught his nose; 'That's odd…” his eyes lingered on the lady. “for someone with a sharp tongue and flashy style.'

Now that she's much closer with her hair tied up in a bun, Gun could examine her more closely. Unlike yesterday, she's in full white get-up now: a clean set of white scrubs matched with white shoes.

'A nurse, huh. Probably an intern because I'm looking at a fucking dwarf.'

…

"Shoot."

Apparently, patching Gun's 'scratches' made her miss the last bus.

"That's what you get for doing your job."

"Oh, shut up."

Droplets of pouring rain halted the bickering that was about the start.

…

Gun had to admit though, she did a stellar job mending his wounds.

Ego not permitting him to tell her his thanks, he nonchalantly dropped his thick coat over her head instead while noticing blotches of rain wet her uniform.

Recalling her trembling the other day, the self-proclaimed gentleman also offered to drive her home.

Gun's eyes lingered down his coat and figured he hadn't picked it from his wide selection of corporate attires to wear since Y/N returned it; he might've intentionally kept it there to let her fragrance rub off on his other clothes… or not, only he and God knew.

A bell chime signaled his entry to the shop, and a lady from the opposite end greeted him with a welcoming smile.

After paying for a bouquet of white chrysanthemums, Gun bowed and turned his heel to the wooden-framed glass door.

The cashier gave him a concerned look but settled with a short smile.

Gun decided to walk the rest of the way, paced long strides along the stone-paved sidewalk into the busier streets of Seoul.

Turning his head towards ordinary stalls he used to turn a blind eye to as flashes of Y/N’s twinkling eyes with her hand around the doorknob and an arm linked to his tattooed one surfaced.

A grin crept up to his cheeks.

Since their first encounter, Gun found himself driving past the hospital Y/N works at. Later on, it became a routine. Random nights when he stops by and waits for her at the bus stop in front to chat about each other's day or to give her a ride home, especially when it's raining.

But of course, he took account of his schedule. He's a busy man, and his spare time, scarce; all of which however, have been filled in by Y/N the more they hung out:

Mondays to Thursdays, he would take the longer route to HNH Building, to have a cup of morning coffee (or so he says) at a restaurant near the hospital. Y/N would walk in, couple of squints later, then wave at him.

"What a coincidence!" she exclaims. "Yeah." he replies dryly.

Fridays to Saturdays, Y/N's off-duty schedule. She would go to the public library to study for her weekly moving exams. It just so happened that Gun also reviewed for GED exams there (the real coincidence).

Surprisingly, Gun is good at memorization, so is Y/N at general trivia. It was effective mutualism.

Sundays were the wildcard. One is busy. Or both are busy. If neither, Gun would accompany Y/N to a random place she keeps going on and on about for the entire week or they would chill in his house (whether he wants it or not).

It's an actual miracle that Goo didn't catch them hanging out, really. Although, he had suspicions… getting a sweet trace of lavender in his partner's house when he barges in without notice (you don't just put "sweet" and "Gun" together). Or when Gun's mood swings become less and less frequent despite the blonde's incessant annoyance sprees.

Goo was itching to bully him for it, but he needed concrete evidence—the ones that would put the jackpot horrified look on the demon's stoic face.

Gun needs to be more cautious around his pest of a partner.

It won't be too long until Goo sees through his lies of checking into brothels on Sundays.

Ah, about that.

It's been ages since Gun set foot into one.

…

Huh.

Guess he found Y/N a more entertaining distraction from work than any bent back he broke.

They just… instantly clicked after their first encounter–like a string of Fate wrapped each of them in a disgustingly cute bow as a present for each other.

They were inseparable. One was the other's breathing space: from Y/N 's tiring hospital duties and from Gun's major crew business.

They were each other's pieces in the puzzle they didn't know were missing.

Friends... they would call each other. But were they really? Might've been even more if they knew what the force that attracted them to each other actually was.

(Ugh. Fate was having none of this folly.)

Gun stifled a laugh. A lot has happened in the short time he met her, yet there's still a lot to be unpacked for this lady.

"W-wait!" Y/N huffed, holding up a hand between her and Gun. "Not the one to use gender cards here but… go easy on me here, man. Clearly, you have the men's advantage in stamina." Y/N pouted at Gun with what seemed like an attempt to do a puppy face, but she only looked like a constipated shih tzu to him.

He raised an eyebrow but maintained his stance.

"Oh, cut the bullshit, woman. You run around the hospital 24/7. Sparring should just be a piece of cake to you."

"Still–"

"You think those harassing fuckers were the same brats you fought in middle school and go easy on you because you're a girl?"

His eyes scanned her from head to toe. He sneered.

"I bet bruises aren't the only thing they'll leave you had you let your guard down."

"Huh?"

"Nothing."

"Anyway, I don't know why you're suddenly so adamant, teaching me how to fight." Gun didn't answer, earning a glare from Y/N.

"Besides, I only wrestled those wimps back then to keep them from bullying other kids. That doesn't mean I'd actively engage in one now," She put her hands up in the air in surrender and crossed her legs to sit down, to which Gun loosened up.

"...unlike SOME people."

"You did last time at the park." He jeered.

Y/N rolled her eyes. "Well, duh. Those two creeps kept pestering me, asking for my number. I also texted you, but you left me on read. Did it look like I had a choice?" She eyed him daggers.

"Could've at least used your strength for something genuinely helpful, you sadist."

"Which I did, your punches were getting slow, and you couldn't defend yourself for two whole minutes when I got there, so I finished the job for you. Good work lasting for even a minute."

He was lying, of course.

As soon as he read her message, he sped to the location she sent. When he arrived, the fight had just broken out with Y/N caving in one of the creeps' faces with her clenched fist. He saw her give the other one a solid kick on the ribs and counter back with a knee to the face.

He could tell she had fighting experience, despite sluggish, with those limbs; and he just watched her fend for herself until she wore out…

He cringed.

Yeah… he is a sadist.

"You're right. Let me make it up to you by making you tea then." She used that as an excuse to end their training for the day as she stood up and went to Gun's kitchen.

The latter watched her back disappear in the hallway.

With how their conversation went, it seems Y/N isn't interested in becoming his successor at all. She already rejected him before he could even offer it.

"I guess beating people up for money isn't her 'cup of tea.' It's way easier than having a hospital suck your life out."

…

But not long after, when they were on their way to a cake shop Y/N wanted to check out, some weak-ass thief was also on the loose and unfortunately chose Y/N to be his target.

Yes, that's right. Unfortunate for the thief.

Long story short, Y/N's hospital will get another patient.

Gun looked at the disfigured face of the stupid fucker with beaming pride at what his student is capable of (Y/N dislikes the idea of Gun calling her his student, though).

He then turned to his masterpiece with a pleased grin and noticed her with arms across her chest while shaking.

"What are you doing?" No response; she was uttering something with her eyes closed.

"I am safe; I am strong."

…

She seemed shocked.

'Eh. It'll pass. I taught her enough to deal with punks like these.'

The sun's afternoon rays peeked from the thin linings of thick-smoked cumulonimbus clouds. It dulled the shadow of the man walking on copper-bricked pavement.

Gun heaved a deep sigh. A couple of months ago, he was laser-focused on managing their debt-collecting business, then working as Crystal's bodyguard and finding a successor.

That felt ages ago somehow. His recent calendars have been him dealing with Y/N's antics. Not that he was complaining, he found it amusing to know a woman he could see eye-to-eye on things. No strings attached.

There was something about how she looked at him; neither a hint of fear nor looming intimidation.

Just warmth.

Warmth that melts the iciest of his glares. A soft smile that ebbs his turbulent chaos. Words that tear down his barriers, strip him off his 'Shiro Oni' persona, leaving him with just plain Jonggun Park.

He's also seen patterns of her behavior: the way her eyebrows arches up when she looks at him, the glimmer in her eyes when talking about her pets at home, her nose scrunching up as she recalls medical acronyms, her fingers curling up as she tucks strands of her hair behind her ear, her pouty lips and rosy cheeks when he teases her (his favorite). He memorized them all; and still she continues to surprise him with more.

Stitch that with mood swings and annoying outbursts, and you have Y/N!

How can a woman be so complex yet so... normal?

'One moment she gets mad when I keep my clothes all over the place in my own house, but then when I visit the hospital, she's the one who was all over the place herself with stress and panic...'

"The hospital was packed when you came in; it was just bad timing. I'm perfectly calm most of the time." She huffed.

That didn't convince him one bit.

She continued to weave questions into his mind.

'What was this weird fixation on this lady? How very unlike me to have interest in anyone beyond their physical strength. When did I start to…'

She does have a slightly above-average physical strength; he wouldn't have batted an eyelash at her if he didn't see potential.

Was that the reason why he was so drawn to her, though? Did Gun ever really sit down and mull over his odd relationship with the quirky Y/N, who is living a life opposite to his?

…

Oh.

...

That IS the very reason he got attracted to her; the fact that she's composed of a lot of things.

Unlike him, who lived the script laid out for him, she wrote her own.

Unlike him, who has only ever seen the thick crimson stains on his shirt, the light gray smoke he exhales from his cancer stick, and the overall black-and-white world he's caged in, hers was made up of different shades of life, the different hues of people she met, and different flavors of memories she savored.

All of them painted a picture of a woman that spilled color onto anyone she touched--including him.

She showed him what lies beyond his dog-eat-dog world.

"Dude, tell me. You're actually blind, aren't you?"

'Ah, shit. Here we go again.'

"Your eyes were gouged out in a fight and you spent years training with your remaining senses, didn't you? Now, you're hunting to seek revenge on those who wronged you."

Y/N gasped at her eureka moment. "I cracked the code."

"Cool backstory you've built there, but no. How the fuck could see the road if--"

"Or maybe you are a famous celebrity! They always wear sunglasses to hide their identity."

"Ever heard of famous celebrities getting into gang fights?" Gun knows one, though. But Y/N doesn't.

"..."

"There's your answer."

"Ditch the sunglasses then, you hitman try-hard." She pouted in dismay and looked away with her crossed arms on her chest.

"It baffles me how you still wear them even in training. Even now, you look more like my bodyguard instead of a friend. What the hell?!"

"Then, deal with it."

"Gah! You insufferable prick!" Y/N buried her face in her arms on the table.

Gun stared at her small figure with the very eyes that tickled Y/N's curiosity.

He had long forgotten what his inborn eyes looked like… those wretched eyes.

He'd rather gouge his eyes himself had he failed to unlock his unconscious sense.

He hated those eyes.

He hated how they made him look vulnerable and inferior.

He hated how "soft" they were and made people deem him incapable at a young age. Gun eventually made them eat their own words.

But most of all, he hated how they began to resurface around Y/N and became more frequent the more they hung out… he didn't want her or anybody to see his image that's been long since buried.

So Gun dulled them out with tinted shades.

"Hey."

He called to break the awkward silence.

No response.

Gun leaned closer. At the same time, Y/N looked up.

He was caught off guard when she suddenly sandwiched his face between her palms.

"Hehe. Gotcha!" She snickered.

His sunglasses loosely fell down the bridge of his nose. Y/N caught a view of his ebony eyes for the first time, at which her eyes widened.

"Gun, your eyes..." Naked eyes meet each other for the first time. Locked as time stopped. Her sudden perplexion eventually subsided, turning soft as she rubbed his cheek.

"They are pretty."

He didn't know which pair of eyes she was looking at right now. But it didn't matter anymore.

The red string was dusted off to clarity.

He was taught to discard his humanity aside and embrace his pitch-black monstrosity all his life. Since then, that was all he saw--darkness. The void he had ever known engulfed all colors visible in the spectrum.

On the other hand, white emitted them, like how her ridiculously bright-colored clothing pierced his dark-tinted sunglasses. Her comforting rays of light were outstretched for him to latch on.

It was no wonder how he was captivated by her, ensnared in her mere presence.

He was a pathetic moth bewitched by the warmth of her lamp's flame. It was blinding. He knows she is a whole 'nother kind of destructive, and he shouldn't come close, yet her tiny blaze's euphonious crackle, egging on him to inch closer, lulled him into submission.

He was an Icarus flown to her scorching sun. He knew she would destroy him all along, and he let her.

Gun stopped in his tracks at the sight of Y/N 's family nameplate. He collected himself and took a deep breath.

"What a surprise, Jonggun! Are you paying Y/N a visit?" Her mother greeted him with a warm smile.

"It's been months, young man! We missed you!" Her father guffawed, lightly smacking Gun's back.

"Good afternoon, Mr. and Mrs. L/N." Gun bowed his head and offered them a box of cupcakes he remembered Y/N was gushing about. He appeared calm in front of her parents, but he couldn't meet their eyes–not like they'd notice anyway.

Gun snapped his eyes open and landed on Y/N below him; her eyes closed, and her hair sprawled messily around her. She looked ethereal with white draped over her peaceful form.

He got so used to seeing her face filled with intense expressions that her relaxed face seemed fresh as her other features popped out.

It's like falling in love with her all over again.

God, does she look beautiful right now.

She resembled an angel with wings spread on the cold, hard ground.

…

Ground?

…

Color drained from Gun's face as he got pulled back to reality at the sight of carmine ichor oozing from Y/N 's side, seeping through the stitches of her white dress.

It… it all happened in a blink.

She darted towards a lost kid who aimlessly crossed the highway, unknowingly about to get hit by a speeding car. She pushed him to safety and took the hit.

The lady beside Gun shrieked in panic and frantically fished out her phone to call an ambulance.

'She might not make it if we still wait for the damn thing.' He knelt down and checked for response and airway in her system.

She was unresponsive but breathing.

He knew this method. With how frequently he and Y/N were together, how she talked 80% of the time, more often than not, she had run him down the basics of first aid, even if they were out of the blue.

'Must've thought I didn't pay attention, huh? Too fucking bad, Y/N. I always listened to you.'

He carefully roamed his hands on various parts of her unconscious body to check for severe bleeding.

'Shit. Three of her ribs are broken. Her right arm is fractured, and she's rapidly losing blood.' His calloused hands cupped the side of her face where her silky strands loosely hung.

'Her temple is also bleeding, probably from the impact when she hit the ground.'

Blood. All too familiar. It never left Gun as soon as he got his first kill.

The sight of blood shouldn't faze him. But his hands were trembling the more he realized how grave her condition is.

It took everything for him to stop driving his fingers to her hair despite being spotted with dried blood. He withdrew his hands and brushed his stray locks back instead in an attempt to keep his composure.

He was planning on taking her to the hospital himself or treating her in his house (he already has enough nursing supplies for his personal use, but Y/N constantly nagged him to buy more for emergencies). But, in her current state, he couldn't carry her otherwise the issue with her ribs gets worse and affects her internal organs, if they weren't already.

"For emergencies, my ass. Can't use them right now, can I?"

Funny how Y/N remained her composure and even kept their banter going when she first treated Gun. Just goes to show that she IS calm at work.

It's kind of ironic now that they've switched places, though. Even if Y/N taught him all this medical stuff, Gun still couldn't do anything more helpful than wait anxiously for the fucking ambulance.

Gun pinched the bridge of his nose. These injuries wouldn't be a problem for Jinyoung Park. Gun could certainly vouch for that, as he and Goo were regulars in his lab when they were still on probation… when the man was still borderline mentally stable.

He would phone him immediately if he wanted to but decided against it because God knows what that maniac would do to her now at his current state, if he even agrees to tend to her injuries.

Gun withdrew his coat and covered Y/N 's upper body. He rested his left hand on her cold ones in hopes of delaying Death's touch on her.

Honestly, he was at a loss--which was a first; he didn't know what to do with it. But Gun knew he had to stay with Y/N until help arrived.

He curled his hand around Y/N's.

"She is safe. She is strong… She isn't alone."

Gun found himself uttering the same chant again as if in prayer.

He always viewed Y/N as a warrior shielding the weak, a saint devotees pray to for protection. She had always put others' well-being above hers--a trait befitting of a nurse.

But that overshadowed the image of blood and bones beneath her soft, paper-thin skin as it was under the guise of a rigid exterior.

Fucked up it may seem, but Gun knows he isn't at fault entirely for what happened: Y/N made her decision, was well aware of the consequences, and still chose to do it.

Even so, he could feel a stinging pang in his chest, telling him that he should've caught up to her had he ran and pushed Y/N and the stupid boy himself. But the four major crews were at peak then, so he ultimately chose to do nothing.

And it tore his heart--something he thought had been long abandoned.

The 'heart' was meant to be just an empty hole where every last bit of tenderness was carved out of his chest. The hollow pit that reminded him of his decision to walk the path of blood… was forcefully filled with infectious laughter, sweet melodies, and soft rhythmic heartbeats of life.

The words "Gun" and "sweet" didn't seem uncharacteristic when put together now, huh.

He gazed at what remained of her longingly, reminiscent of memories they'd shared, despite short.

"You painted my heart in different forms that I can hardly call it my own anymore."

Gun's grip on the bouquet tightened.

"We shouldn't even have met--we're worlds apart, for crying out loud. But Fate decided to fuck around people and chose us, I guess."

But at least he was able to see the world in color--for the first and last time.

He was never meant to have it, anyway.

…

...

"PFFT--"

Gun jolted on his seat as laughter echoed around the room.

Y/N wheezed. "I didn't know you could be so poetic, Gun Park!"

It took a moment for Gun to process his surroundings.

He is currently in Y/N's bedroom. A relatively small space compared to his bedroom, which is infinitely wider. Her room looks more lively and festive than his empty one, though.

Other than her working table, everything else was decorated with strings of polaroids, LED lights, and stuffed toys ranging from tiny crocheted keychains to life-size pillows randomly decorated the room.

Wow. There's a whole new world to be explored in here.

Gun waved his trailing thoughts away and finally faced Y/N, who sat on her bed. Her lively demeanor didn't cover up her poor condition though, which is painfully understandable.

He should've brought medical supplies that were piling up in his house. And cupcakes, really? He didn't go out for a picnic.

Well, it's nothing worse than her in a casket.

He cleared his throat.

"More importantly, how long since you left the hospital?"

"Two months."

"And you never even contacted me once?"

"Well, you've never visited me since… the accident. I thought you simply forgot about me, you being a busy person and all."

He TRIED to forget her, for Christ's sake.

After Kouji tracked the bastard's location with the car's plate number he sent, Gun didn't waste a second and pummeled the hit-and-runner to death.

Then… he carried on to another chapter of his life, as usual.

Gun wholeheartedly believed Y/N was just another fleeting name in his book, just torn scratched pages of requiems lacing love songs that weren't supposed to be written.

So, he let time help him forget.

Spoiler: he never did; he just couldn't. How could he when everywhere he looked, he saw her?

"I was… busy at work."

"See? Anyway, that's okay. Don't sweat it, man. My prank made up for it." She laughed it off.

Gun prepared himself for the worst when he entered Y/N 's house; he felt his stoic façade crack as a flash of disappointment in Y/N's face was conjured in his mind.

Her cheerful welcome (sneaky prank) washed all of his worries away.

In the end, it was better than what he anticipated.

"So, how are you feeling?"

She frowned, an eyebrow arched up in disapproval.

"The Gun I know doesn't give a shit about 'feelings'. Who are you and what did you do to him?"

He deadpanned. "Just… answer the question."

"To be honest, I feel like shit right now. Being bedridden for months? Getting injected with pain relievers, tons of prescriptions and rehab sessions, everyday? Now, I know how my patients felt…"

How talkative for someone feeling like shit. Even so, he let her talk–like how they usually did. It felt melancholic.

"...and I was finally discharged. They said I can go back to work when I'm fully recovered." She sent him a toothy grin.

Her eyes landed on the bouquet in his arms, and cocked her head to the side.

"Are those white chrysanthemums?"

"...Yes." He could almost see a question mark form on her lips.

"Dude, you thought I died or something? Why bring 'mourning' flowers?" She giggled.

"No? But…" He set down the bouquet on her bed.

"I heard that they have other meanings…"

"Oh? What are they?"

He plucked two flowers from the bouquet and inched closer to Y/N.

'Eternal…' he tucked one of them behind her ear.

'...and devoted love.' he pried her hands open and placed the second flower on them.

Gun rested his forehead on her shoulder, his eyes welled up at the contact.

He couldn't say the words out loud.

Not after leaving her when she was at her lowest.

...

Ugh.

This isn't how he planned it to go.

He really did love her--but he was also selfish. Distancing himself didn't do any better for the both of them; quite the contrary.

Would stitching back the torn pages heal their wounded hearts this time? Let their colors paint over the dried stains of their past and turn over a new chapter?

Splashes of rain decorated her bedroom window. The colors in her room desaturated as evening enveloped the sky.

"Gun," Y/N held his arms, squeezing them. "It's getting dark. I'm gonna turn on the lights."

"Let's… stay like this for a while." was Gun's only response.

…

Their close proximity. The familiar scent of her detergent. The nostalgic periods of tapping raindrops. The yoke of her shirt getting wet.

It was similar to their first meeting but a little different.

Y/N felt him shake. She chuckled and rubbed circles around his back.

"What's up with you, dummy? It's not even that cold."

#this sounded better in my head/outline i promise #lookism #lookism x reader #lookism manhwa #lookism webtoon #lookism fic #park jonggun #gun park #gun park x reader #park jonggun x reader #congrats and tysm if you reached the end! you get nothing from it tho (prob a headache) haha #bro's still completely ooc tho 🙇‍♀️#i also don't have a particular writing style so my bad if some of these are ❓❓ lol #also my sht grammar sorry abt that

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