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thathelplesshomeschooler · 4 years

Text

humans are space orcs (with magic!) *skillz to pay the billz pt 1*

5wow i have been gone for a hot minute but i think i’m gonna tryn write more on here, but school’s starting up again soon so we’ll see how that actually goes. anyway, without further ado, here is another short story or sum, based on how some people can cook, and how some absolutely cannot

also i had to resist so hard from writing that’s what she said at the end so i will have to console myself with writing it up here.

***

The VIV Narrtor was docked at a WayCenter Station for repairs after a gamma burst from a neutron star had fried nearly all the sensors. As it was the humans had decided to designated this as their “vacation” and had put their money together and were renting a small abode for the duration of the repairs. Not wanting to miss out on any possible research, Drerzii had insisted that he and Tygeria rent the room across the street from the humans.

And so Tygeria found herself the windowsill with a pair of “binoculars” as the humans called it, in her hand. Currently the humans weren’t doing much, in fact it appeared that only one of them was up and active. Uhris, clad only in his undergarments, was in the sustenance preparation room, making ready the pot of dark, steaming liquid that the humans drank every morning. She and Drerzii had suspected it to be either some sort of religious ceremony or a necessity of their species, much like how the dular always had to eat from a plant native to their planet before they ate anything else or they would die. However, neither of them had mustered the courage to ask the humans. If it was indeed a private matter, it might not be appreciated if they suspected they were being studied so thoroughly. And an angry human was not something Tygeria wanted to see.

As she observed, the rest of the humans slowly arose from their slumber, except for Taurus. Being the largest of them all, Tygeria suspected that he likely needed more rest than the rest of them in order to move his mass around. She noted her thoughts on a holotablet.

When she resumed her observations, she noted that Uhris was preparing sustenance, and quite a large amount. He must be feeding the entire group. It was strange she thought, since his records didn’t indicate that he had been trained in sustenance preparation, but he seemed quite adept in his actions. Perhaps he had trained in secret, hoping one day to be employed as a sustenance prepare. These “chefs” apparently were quite coveted in any group.

The group spent most of the morning hours indoors, but what they were doing exactly Tygeria couldn’t say exactly. They were certainly enjoying themselves at the very least. Around midday Uhris and Enara walked out of the building. Tygeria leaned forward, her interested piqued. “Drerzii, Drerzii! They’re headed this way.” Her carapace tingled with mixed fear and excitement. They’d been found out. Surely the humans would be angry at being spied on. Drerzii rose from his resting state.

“My dear Tygeria, you surely must be mistaken. The humans-” He stopped as he peered out the window, “Oh. You’re quite right Tygeria. But do calm yourself, I doubt they mean us any harm. Likely their simply curious. Their species’ natural inclement is towards curiosity rather than violence; however, I suppose we should be prepared. There, I have a clear line of communication to command should anything happen.”

Tygeria appreciated his actions, but her carapace still tingled. A minute later there was a knock on the door. She walked quickly across the room and opened the door. Uhris and Enara stood in the entryway.

Uhris switched his hand from scratching the back of his head to giving them a little wave. “Uh hey. Anne pointed out that you guys were staying across the street from us, and we all agreed that we couldn’t just let you guys stay here.” It was exactly as Tygeria feared, the humans were angry about being spied on. Drerzii’s flashing colors echoed her fear. “So we- Drerzii you okay? You’re putting on a whole light show my dude.”

“Oh, yes, I’m quite fine. For the time being at least.”

“Erm, yeah, whatever that means. Anyway, we’re about to have lunch, so we wanted to know if you guys wanted to join us. We might do something later, but we haven’t decided what yet.”

Tygeria lowered her head so it was on eye-level with the human. It didn’t make much of a difference to her, what with her infrared vision, but apparently it was a human gesture. “You don’t intend us any harm?”

The two humans looked on in confusion. “N-no? I mean why would we want to hurt you? We just wanted to know if you wanted to eat with us, but if you don’t that’s fine too.”

Tygeria was taken aback. Did they not know? “Because we were obs-”

“Of course we would be delighted to enjoy you for a meal. I unfortunately am unable to consume at the current moment, but I would be delighted to participate in your fellowship.”

“Oh. Great, well you guys can head on over then. Enara and I are just going to get some groceries, but we’ll be back in just a few minutes. The door’s unlocked so just head right in”

And so the humans headed off toward the provisions center of the station while Tygeria and Drerzii made their way to the humans rooms. Upon entering the room they were met with ferocious laughter. The terrifying sound of mirth coming from all three of the humans. Taurus, who apparently was in the middle of a story glanced over towards the door, his predatory eyes moving by pure instinct. He motioned with his hand. “Come on over guys, I was just telling them about when I managed to get a screw jammed up my nose.” It took a few minutes of recap for Tygeria and Drerzii to understand the situation, but it was incomprehnsible why the humans found it so funny.

Uhris and Enara arrived shortly after the story was finished. Both had bags filled with consumables in both hands. Taurus hooted from across the room “Uwu, y’all look like a couple, walking in with your groceries.”

Uhris breathed heavily through his nose, what Tygeria believed was called a “snort.” “If I was Jason maybe we’d be a couple.” At that comment Jason started coughing and Enara’s face grew red. Perhaps, Tygeria thought, this has something to do with them ‘liking’ each other.

“Anyway, we’re going to get started on lunch. Y’all just sit tight. Also Tygeria you should be able to eat this, we got food that’s edible for you too.” She clicked her thanks.

It was very considerate that the humans would use sustenance that she would be able to ingest as well. She was, however, concerned. Among her kind she was known to have rather specific preferences. However she couldn’t risk offending the humans by not eating any sustenance they prepared. But as they worked in the kitchen, her olfactory senses began to tingle. The smells of whatever it was they were making piqued her curiosity. How could one prepare food so that it would have such a smell? Was this some form of communication between human. Perhaps it was just a byproduct of whatever processes they were using to prepare the sustenance.

She peered over to see both Uhris and Enara moving efficiently through the kitchen, handing each others utensils and ingredients as they worked. Occasionally one of them would take a small utensil and taste some of the sustenance, then make a small adjustment to the ratios of ingredients. Sometimes they would ask each others opinions or hand something off to the other. Tygeria was astonished at the ease with which they hurried through their movements. Uhris placed his creation in the heating unit and turned to the rest of them. “Alright, so this should take just a few minutes to bake, and then we’ll be good to go.”

Taurus set out dishes for everyone to eat on, except for Drerzii, who had declined on account of his metabolic processes not being in service for the time being. Once Uhris had deemed the time to be right, he carefully pulled the sustenance from the heating chamber and placed it upon the table. Enara came from the kitchen and placed what she had prepared next to Uhris’. “Just wait for it to cool down and then go ahead and dig in.”

With a laugh Jason raised his hand, “So what exactly is it that we’re eating.”

Uhris bared his teeth, then quickly changed his expression to be less frightening for Tygeria and Drerzii. “What we have here is a magherita flatbread, made completely by hand, with non-native ingredients. I subbed uthara for tomatoes for both the garnish and the sauce, and used tehari cream instead of cheese. And the crust is, actually I don’t know what it is, it just said it could be substituted on my holotablet. But Enara, tell them what you made.”

“What we have here is a fruit salad, also made with ‘non-native’ ingredients, as Uhri put it. And I put in some of the spices they had at the compound for some added flavor.”

Jason laughed, “So basically we’re having alien pizza and alien fruit salad? This is really gonna be the test guys.” With that he took out the first section of the ‘flatbread’ and took a bite. His eyes opened wide and he made a sound deep in his throat. With a mouth full of food he said, “Oh yeah, thish ish the sh*t you guys.”

What exactly that meant, Tygeria wasn’t sure, but the rest of the humans began consuming the sustenance, and so Tygeria took one of the squares and took a bite of it herself. Her carapace tingled with delight. The flavors burst in her mouth, sweet and salty combining perfectly. She hummed with delight, this was beyond what she would have imagined the humans to be capable of. She then took a portion of the ‘fruit salad’ and ate some of that as well. It complimented the flatbread in a way that she didn’t know was even possible. She quickly secured another few servings, making sure she would have enough for later on. She would have to savor the taste whenever she had the chance. But she couldn’t help but to hum even more as she continued to feed on it.

“Well it looks like we have one very happy customer.” Uhri said.

* * *

The rest of the day the group simply stayed indoors and talked about a myriad of subjects. Enara’s skill in the kitchen had come about simply because she liked to cook as a past time. It was, as she said, “A pleasure to see my work put smiles on faces. And even better if I can make the food healthy.” Uhri had apparently worked in his family’s business of making food for special events, something called catering, and had picked up his skills from his years helping around the kitchen. He volunteered to make another meal for dinner, but before he could start Anne stopped him.

She stepped into the kitchen and turned to him “It’s been a while since I’ve made anything for anyone else, but I’d like to try to make something for you guys.”

Uhri shrugged, “Knock yourself out.” Tygeria was startled by this. Why would Anne hit herself so hard as to knock her unconscious? She was about to raise her concern when Uhri spoke, “I didn’t mean it literally. It’s a human saying, kind of like good luck, or go right ahead.”

She hummed her acknowledgement, but was still confused as to why anyone would say this.

Taurus paused, “Wait Anne, I didn’t know you could cook.”

“Well I did live by myself for two years in college. And I got sick of instant ramen after the first semester, so I had to learn.”

This made sense to Tygeria, humans apparently had to fend for themselves once they reached a certain age. Their parents would assist but for the most part they were on their own. Next to her Drerzii trumpeted with delight. “Why, Tygeria I have been fastidiously taking notes of this whole occasion, and I would like to mull over them with you later. We can see what our thoughts are, but this entire time has been so enlightening.”

A few short minutes later Anne huffed out of the kitchen a steaming platter in her hands. The smell coming from it was just as strong as the one coming from the earlier dishes, but not quite so delectable in nature. Anne plopped it down in the middle of the table and introduced the dish. “It’s a bean casserole, or at least as close as I could get to one with what we have.”

Jason was again the first one to take a bite. He slowly pulled his utensil out of his mouth. Anne beamed, “So, what do you think?”

Jason shook slightly, “It’s definitely something else. You’ve got a real flavor there I’ll tell you that.” He timidly placed another portion in his mouth, shutting his eyes as he did so.

The others began to eat, and had similar reactions. Slow, and usually taking a drink of water after every bite they had. It was a completely different reaction to what they had before. Before she could take a bite, Drerzii whispered in her ear, “Tell me what it tastes like.”

So she put a large portion on her plate, and another large portion in her mouth. If it was anything like the bliss she had tasted earlier she would have to start eating the humans food more often. Unfortunately, it was nothing like what she had eaten earlier. It was as if whatever the flavor was meant to be had become evil and was attacking her mouth. And the way it felt, it was incredibly dry, parching her mouth. She quickly grabbed a cup of water and downed it, trying to suppress the taste and texture. She turned to Drerzii and spoke quietly, not wanting to offend Anne, “It’s awful. I would not recommend trying it.” She looked back to see Anne staring directly at her. Her predatory hearing must have heard Tygeria’s report.

“Is it actually that bad? I know I might have fudged some of the spices, but was it actually that bad?”

Tygeria started to panic. How could she tell the human that it was possibly the worst thing she had ever tasted? Humans were easily offended when it came to things they made themselves. It wouldn’t do for her to insult the food. But she could thing of no other honest alternative. Right as she was about to confirm, Taurus spoke. “To be honest Anne, it’s not great. It’s pretty dry and you overdid it with the flavoring. But trust me it’s not as bad as my grandmothers cooking. That was a culinary nightmare. I can at least eat this.”

Anne nodded, liquid gathering at the bottoms of her eyes. Tygeria tilted her head, she had heard that liquid spilled from humans eyes when they got emotional, and the action even had a name. So she asked, “Are you going to cry?”

Instantly Anne stood straight, and shook her head. “Throw the food away. I’ll just go out and grab something pre-made.” With that she dashed out the door.

“Did I say something wrong?”

“I mean, yeah, you aren’t really supposed to ask people if they’re going to cry.” Taurus said, “But at least we don’t have to finish the food. God it was disgusting, I thought I was going to throw up.”

Enara struck him on the shoulder. “Don’t say that, she tried her best.”

“I mean am I wrong?”

Enara raised her hand as if to cuff him again, but slowly let her arm down. “No, not really, it was pretty terrible. I’m going to go find her, but let’s do try to cheer her up when she comes back.” And with that Enara rose and left the room. As soon as she had Uhris spat out a slimy, semi-chewed portion of the food. “That shit was nasty, I couldn’t bring myself to swallow.”

Tygeria wondered how any human could take the risk of attempting to prepare sustenance of the potential for disaster was this, this massacre of the tastebuds.

#HUMANS ARE WEIRD #humans and aliens #humans are space orcs #humans in space #humans are space australians #humans #space #Aliens #space story #humans are crazy

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leboutique-lily · 4 years

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Hey I just read a fic and omg. I'd like to request a Jungkook smut. a virgin going through all the bases nervously but excited and obviously very horny and wet. he fingers her and then when he feels how wet she is he just has to taste her. he makes her squirt eating her out and then he fucks her with his big cock 🥵 and she's so small, but takes it and just about cries and begs to cum again and then he finds out her daddy kink and makes her squirt as she screams Daddy and then aftercare pls🌸

A thousand years later, here I'm. I'm so sorry sweet anon, life carried me away... but here I am, hopping that somehow you find this 😂😂😂😂😂😂

Here it is ❤

° Boyfriend!Jungkook》female!reader

° Smut, Fluff, Jungkook (cause he's a warning)

° Kissing, nudity, one little bite, orgasm control, oral (female receive), hand job, light dirty talk, daddy kink, squirting, penetration, fingering, loss of virginity, sweet sweet jungkook, than teasing jungkook, then sweet jungkook, nice reader I like her, so much blushing.

• This is unedited in a level that I can't even comprehend. I'm sorry!

°•●•°

BLUSH

Hot.

A burning feeling spreading across your checks, the carmine color tinting the soft skin and bringing amusement to your beloved.

The sweet boy seated beside you, gigling from your flustered state - one that he brought upon you, for a fact - too happy with himself for being the one able to make you melt like an ice cream on the Saara desert.

He love the red dust on your face, going down your neck, the way you can't keep eye contact or talk without stutter and tumble on your words. This are the moments that he lives for. You on the other hand just want to dig a whole to the other side of the world and dive on it.

The reason why you're at this state? Well this time, a movie.

You guys were watching some good old action movie, then it went from punches and dynamite (yeah) to other explosive actions.

The couple on the screen started a heated make out session that move on to a very... hot as hell fuck. There was legs and arms and skin everywhere, but what cough your attention was the dominance that the male oozed, soft but present.

Jungkook is a very observant young man, he can catch every nuance and every flick of reaction from you. You were there, certain that you were keeping your cool, a nice and blanted face to a normal thing such as a hot steamy sex, kind of loud too.

But, girl... you were so wrong. He could read you like an open book and he couldn't resist to tease you. He loves teasing you.

"Are you okay there, baby?"

That sly smirk and amused tone that he failed to hide getting on your nerves.

"Yes. I'm totally fine, why wouldn't I?"

You know when you try to sound light and confident but instead end it up like what despair would sound like? Yup, that was you right now and you know why? Because you know once your little shit of a boyfriend catch that, you wouldn't hear the end of it. And that my friends, was what happened.

"Oh... I don't know baby. You seem a little... tense? You know? Is there something that is making you blush like this?"

"B-Blush? No, no I'm not blushing Kookie! Pfh... blushing.. " a very fake laugh coming along with the disastrous sentences you've just spilled.

His smile just growth more, he was leading you exactly where he wanted.

"Oh but you are baby... aaaaall the way down here" he said with his finger suddenly tracing a line from your cheeck to you cleavage. Your skin awakening with a shiver from his touch.

With your eyes closed in concentration you forced the words out.

"It's.. it's the warm weather Kookie. It's hot in hear."

"Well, that's strange baby, cuz you see... we have the AC on and like... 15 minutes ago you said you were freezing."

His bunny like smile and big eyes shining in his little victory.

"I.. I don't.." and that my friend is all that left those pretty lips of yours, just mumbling words with no sense, making your boyfriend hold you in his arms cooing at how adorable you looked flustered.

"Cute" his giggle following the little statement.

°•○•°

Later that night you couldn't take that damn scene from your head and maybe imagining how Jungkook's hands would feel against your skin in that way wasn't helping that much.

He was in the shower, putting that majestic voice to good use and all you could think about was how much you wanted to hear your name in a raspy tone falling from your boyfriend's lips. Listen to me here... girl, that monument of a man hovering over you, with hunger eyes and a huge- Oh, okay... calm down.

One would look at this scenario and think of one simple solution, have sex. But things were not that simple... it could be actually, but your overthinking mind wouldn't allow you the pleasure of the peace of mind.

You never done this before, the sex part. Hot make out sessions (Oh yes), the heavy breathing and his hands grabbing the supple flash of your ass was definitely one of the best things in the world. But everytime things got a little bit "too hot" he would sense your nerves and stop without you even have to say so. That was Jungkook, always attentive of the details. But tonight something shifted, you feel this need almost like a itching that you can't reach. But he can.

You're so lost in your thoughts that you don't see Jungkook getting out the bathroom drying his hair with a towel while a bigger one is wrapped securely around his waist. Damn. You startle from your thoughts and automatically start to stare at his figure, the little drops of water that escaped the towel running down his torso, his gorgeous abs, down to the hem of the towel reaching his... oh it must be pretty.

Stop, what are you thinking?!

"Baby..?" He's looking at you with curiosity all over his face.

"Hm?" You eyes never leaving his crotch area.

He chuckled at your unmoving eyes, a dumb face. But so cute. He was dying to test something and now seemed a really good time.

"Babygirl." He said in a lower voice. Your body reacted instantly, eyes shooting up at him. His face at least.

A small smirk taking place on his lips at the way your checks started to get rosy again. God he loved that adorable pink shade on your skin...

"There's something on that beautiful mind of yours. Would you care to share with me baby?"

"Oh. Hm... n-nothing Kookie, I was just... it's nothing really"

Don't get me wrong, you're confident. But when it comes to anything to do with Jungkook all your resolve seems to crumble. Fast. He was starting to get worried, so he approached you and took a seat facing you. The fresh and light smell of his soup and his shampoo enveloping your senses like a drug.

"What's wrong baby?" His doe eyes searching any sign of distress on yours.

He waited for your answer but you couldn't formulate any word. You wanted to say that you were ready, but without melting down on the mattress.

"Y/N you know you can tell me anything, right? I'm here for you" his voice so gentle that you felt guilty for getting him so worried over you.

"I know Kookie, you don't need to worrie... I just - I want to tell you something but I don't know how or apparently don't have the courage to do it now." You laugh trying to light it up the mood.

"Its okay baby, take your time. There's no rush" he takes your hand in his. The ink decorating his skin marvelling you, you feel that he might not be rushing you, but you need to spit it out.

"I think... Jungkook, I'm ready." You say in one breath.

He looks at you as if trying to figure it out what you mean by that and you can see in his expression when he understand. His eyes go wide and he let out a quiet "oh" from his rounded lips. 'That's why she's so nervous' he thought.

"Oh baby, are you sure? You don't need to do anything you don't want to, I can wait, for as much as you need." You interrupt him before he keeps going.

"Jungkook, I'm sure, really. I want you..."

The last part barely a whisper, but his ears catch it. His eyes darkened at your words, shy and small, but he can feel the truth behind it.

Shifting closer to you, you feel the warmth from his body - he's always so warm- his smell surrounding you and his hand holding your chin to make you look at him.

"Say it again. Louder." His voice is more assertive but still sweet. His stare makes your stomic seem to be full of butterflies, a shiver runs down your body.

"I want you Jungkook..." you muster all the voice that you can find in that moment.

You barely finish talking and his lips are on yours in a passionate kiss. Sweet but passionate, just like him.

His hands finding solace on your waist, pulling you closer and taking you in his lap. Like magnets your fingers go straight to his fluffy hair, the soft long locks in a deep brown making pretty waves between your digits. His hands on a much more feverish manner, descend to grip the flesh of your hips and tights, up your back on your neck and repeating everything as if trying to cover all your body with his touch at the same time. As if this was the only chance that he would ever get to have you like this, even knowing that the thought if far from the truth.

When he pulls your hips closer, you can feel his hardening cock covered by the towel, pressing on your clit lightly but enough to send little shocks of pleasure through your body. You gasp in his mouth, hands tightening on his hair earning a groaning sound to fall from his red lips.

He slowly turned your body and laid you down on the soft sheets, his body hovering over yours. The atmosphere seemed to change a bit, his eyes tender locking you in place, hypnotizing you while his hands were delivering sweet touches on your checks, it felt like he was trying to memorize everything, everything detail of you, of this moment.

His lips sealed the dulcet feeling that was in the air, slowly and sensuously. It felt... so good...

Kisses trailing down your jaw, behind your ear and down your neck, the feeling of his hair against your skin, his warm tongue coming out to lick little blooming flowers on your clavicle.

His hands find the hem of your pajama shirt while his eyes asked for permission. Your nod was enough for him right now, and soon you were half top naked. Your first reaction was to cover yourself, your arms trying to hide your hardening nipples from your boyfriend's eyes.

He was not going to allow it, you're to beautiful for him...

"No baby, don't hide from me. You're so beautiful... so perfect for me."

He said moving your arms from your breasts, laying your hands down.

His eyes scanning ever piece of skin exposed to him, he wanted to devour you whole. Every little piece... but he had to be patient today, above all days. There would be plenty of time to ruin you in the future.

He lowered his chest to yours to whisper in your ear

"I've waited so long to see you like this and I would've waited much more... but I'm so happy to finally have you, all of you.. "

His low voice sending shivers down your spine making you whine quietly at his words.

He's lips were on one nipple before you could notice him moving, catching you of guard gasping in surprise, while his fingers played with the other one.

The warm and wet feeling from his mouth addicting you immediately, his tongue lavishing the taut bud sucking it in waves, such a amazing sensation.

Your hands grabbing on his strong arms for support, you were panting already and all he did was kiss you and play with your nipples. Kind scared if you were going to survive this.

"You like this baby? Hmm? It feels good?"

As you're going to answer him, he sucked the other nipple in his hot mouth making you moan instead of speak.

"So sensitive.."

"Answer me babygirl, you like the feeling of my tongue? My mouth sucking this pretty nipple raw..."

""Y-yes, Kookie it feels so good" you somehow managed to answer him.

'Let's see what else she's gonna call me until the end of night' he tough. Eager to confirm his suspicions.

With a pop he released the sore bud and trailed his fingers down your belly, one hand firm, holding your waist in place and supporting your arched back.

His fingers meet the hem of your panties, tracing the line of elastic on the cotton, you tights pressed together in anxiety and in seek of some relief. Then he trace a line down your pantie covered center, feeling your slit below de fabric, the soft wet patch forming there from how wet you were getting.

The little electric waves that his light touch was providing you already got you hooked.

"Can you open your legs for me baby?" Your legs were still shut providing him almost no space to work, so you opted to let them part instead of saying anything because seriously, you're in no condition. Slowly he moved aside to give you room and put one of your tights on top of his leg, keeping you open.

"You've soaked through babygirl... is this all for me? Hm?" Your mind had already succumbed to his touch, his words were just an addition to the trap he lured you in, but that didn't stop the blush from coming.

He loved how you looked right now, so small with those big eyes looking up at him and your pussy all wet. It was his dream coming true.

Without waiting anymore he got your panties off and back to his position, you felt his fingers parting your lips, messing with your slick. The moan you let out at the feeling made his cock twitch, you sounded so fucking good.

Your sensitivity was his favorite thing, how every little thing he did got you squirming.

You could feel the wetness dripping down your cheekbums, his breathing on your ear showing that he was not doing better than you.

The tight circles on your clit driving you wild "you're so fucking wet, holy shit baby... can you hear it? How delicious you sound.."

"Kookie... it's so good"

"I know baby... you feel so good too." Then he pressed one finger in slowly, the intrusion surprisingly good. "There you go... such a good girl" He was going as slow so he could to give you time. To help you relax, he wanted you to feel good, in your time. No matter how much his cock felt like it would explode, this was about you, his words whipered to you, making you whimper in pleasure, thrusting in you entrance, once he felt you relax he add another finger making the strech bigger. Your head was thrown back, hands gripping his arm and the sheets, moans thrown to the wind in bliss.

"I need to taste you" He said in a frenzy, desperate to feel you on his tongue. The sounds of your wet pussy were gonna hunt him every night and his mouth on your cunt too.

His soft lips made a bee line to your bellybutton, changing for a straight path down to your navel. He looks up at you, those doe eyes now vivid in a dark almost black color. Keeping his eyes on you, he planted a soft kiss on your mound, and kiss after kiss down to the center of your pussy. The only moment he closes his eyes is when he gets right at your entrance and a fresh wave of you scent hits his nostrils, awakening his hunger even more.

"I can smell you... - already anticipating your reaction, he holds your legs apart - you smell so good baby." He delivers a long lick to your folds "And you taste even better.."

You whimper at his crude words, they are bold but he says it in such a sweet manner. He seems to be in the perfect balance, dirty and sweet. Rought and delicate. Firm but gentle in every gesture.

"May I taste you, baby? Please... I'm dying to feel you on my tongue for so long."

You nod you head so fast that gets you slightly dizzy. The eagerness overpowering the timidness.

He chuckles at you reaction, how can you be so cute and so fucking hot at the same time?

His eyes unwavering on yours, as if trapping you on his spell. You only notice how he maneuvered your body when you feel the skin of your tights meeting your torso. Then you realise how exposed you are.

"Jungk - " before you could knowledge your shock, he gives a long warm lick from bottom to top on your sex. His eyes never leaving yours. He thrives in the gasp you let out and the way your eyes close in pleasure. Your taste dancing on his tongue like Ambrosia, he decided that this is how he wants to spend his days, buried between your legs.

"So sweet. I knew you would taste so sweet baby..." he's lost in his own world. The bubble he created that consisted on him and your pretty pussy. He fucking loves it.

He dives in for more, holding your legs firmly to your chest, face buried in your pussy and eyes gauging every reaction that he gets out of you.

The feeling of his tongue tasting every corner, every crevice... the firm point of it driving you mad with kitten licks on your swollen clit. Your hands are the picture of despair, grabbing the sheets, his hair, his arms, your hair. Everything he does elicits a shock of pleasure, you feel so warm and so needy. You need more.

"Kookie, please... "

He keeps working you on, slurping on your juices. Hands grabbing the soft meet of your tights, preventing you from running from him.

You feel so warm, so wet and so soft. He loves the way you move for him, how sweet your moans sound on his ears, how you clench around nothing, gushing more of your delectable taste just for him, then he feels your hand tugging his hair a little more forcefully.

He is pulled from his trance, to see your exasperated eyes begging him. You look so pretty...

Glassy eyes, swollen lips and red checks... your hair a little wet from the drops of sweat on your forehead and your breath completely uneven. All because of him.

It downs to you that he really enjoys that, to have your taste on his mouth.

He keeps you on the edge, trading his tongue for his fingers, playing with your clit slowly. Enought to keep you going, but far from give you what you want.

"Please..." you reaped. You can feel the pressure of his fingers keeping you there, making you drip for him. He circles your entrance, feeling your wetness seeping out. It's to much and not enough.

He enters you again nuckle deep, searching for something.

"Please, what baby? Tell me what you want"

Oh great. He wants you to speak, to actually formulate sentences right now, with his fingers deep inside.

"Tell me or I'll linger this to my hearts content babygirl."

Fuck. What is this?

"Please!" You gasp way.

"Although I love it when you beg me babygirl, I know you can do better" then you feel a bite on your inner tight, followed by an soothing tongue right after.

You jump in surprise and moan at the feeling, making your boyfriend smirk between your legs.

"I need to cum, just make me cum please.. " you say defeated, your hands urging him back.

"See, was not that hard... " he says but you don't register. He pressed an area that reduced you to a mumbling mess while the other hand took care of your pulsating clit.

Your head was throwed back while your hands squeezed the sheet bellow you.

A long moan formed on your throat, meeting your boyfriend's eager ears.

"That's it... good girl" - his eyes looking back from your pussy swolloing his digit and to your face for any sign of discomfort.

He saw only pleasure, your legs widening by themselves to receive more - "you're so wet baby, so tight... " he was delivering sweet kisses to your tights, his nose caressing your skin.

His finger felt so good... your hips moving on their on, seeking something.

Then he started moving it faster, harder, with his entire arm, in and out in.

"It feels so good Kookie, I want more baby!"

You wanted him, inside. Right now.

"I know baby, I'll give you everything you want... but I need to strech you out first. So be a good girl for me and cum like this."

He went back to your clit with a ferocious tongue, flicking it, licking and sucking with all he got while his fingers fastened their pace inside you. The wet sound of his fingers plunging inside of you loud in the room.

"Listen baby, how fucking wet you are" his breath right on your clit, sending shivers up your body.

You moaned at the vibration of his voice, making him moan back to you repeating the waves again.

The pleasure burning, ready to burst.

"Come one... let go baby. Cum for me babygirl." The strech of a third finger pushed you off the edge, making your body shake from the force of your release. Jungkook moaned as he could feel your walls tightening like a vice in his fingers as you gushed your juices on his tongue, his fingers never stopping, he changed the angle and fastened his pace eliciting a loud gasp from you.

"Found it" his eyes gaining a determined look.

"Found what? Oh fuck! What..?" This feeling. This feeling was fucking fantastic, a kind of euphoria that took your breath way, made you mind haze, your hips move at their own accord searching something that you don't even know.

Your moan getting louder, Jungkook hitting a spot inside of you over and over again with precision making tears run down your checks from pure pleasure, your moans turning to screams.

He was mesmerized by your beauty, your eyes screwed shut and mouth agape, tears wetting your pretty face making him proud of how good he was making you feel. Then he saw, the splash of cum wetting everything, his hand soaked and his tights too, the bed printed by the drops of it.

"Holy shit... fuck babygirl you squirted... so fucking pretty " his fingers never stopping, the waves of pleasure becoming to much, your body trembling at the first shocks of overstimulation

"Jungkook, too much... baby!"

Taking mercy of you, delicately slowing down and retrieving his fingers, sucking it, humming at your taste.

"So good baby... so fucking good"

You were embarrassed and so so horny and tired as fuck, hiding your face on his neck.

"Oh no no... no baby, that was amazing. I can't even express in words how much I want to ruin you right now, make you do it over and over again"

He mouth was on your you in a flash, the kiss slow and sensual, his towel forgotten on the floor now. Pulling you back to the lascivious feeling of his body on top of yours, the weight of him, the warmth, the smell, the feeling of his skin on yours. You loved every bit of it.

You felt so loved and protected with him, his hands on your head, gently combing through your hair while his lips took your breath away.

Kisses trailing down your chin to your neck, you could feel his cock against your tight, hot and heavy waiting for release. He was taking his time with you, but it was time for him to feel good too, so you moved your hand south, brushing the tip of your finger on his rock hard cock and his body shivered instantly, a breathy moan leaving his red lips. He's big... maybe a little too big, long and with a good girth and a pretty shade of pink . How's it gonna fit? He's gonna kill you, for sure. But it's going to be such a sweet death...

You took courage in his reaction, his moan making you want to hear more, so with a firmer touch you hold his shaft and give a long stroke from the bottom to top. His forehead rests now on your shoulder and his breath tickles your skin. You want to hear him, to make him lose control too, so you fasten lightly the pace on his cock, feeling him squirm above you. Your hand up and down, up and down while the other rest on the small of his back... giving a little twist on the head, running your finger on the sensitive spot just below the tip and you feel him tremble to hold himself, so you fasten even more, making him moan in the croak of you neck.

"Baby... slow down " his broken voice making you even wetter, his hips now thrusting into your hand, following your rhythm. It's like he's head is saying one thing and his body is doing the opposite. Your hand feel so small, but so soft and so fucking good on his cock, he's ruined for anyone else for sure!

"Ugh.. fuck stop y/N, I'm gonna cum" he's groaning now hand squeezing your waist leaving a mark behind for tomorrow.

You won't stop, not with him looking and sounding like this. And you're just making him feel good to, right? What could he do?

Well here's your answer.

You felt his teeth sink in your neck as a warning, then he took hold of your wrists and pinned them above your head while he took deep breaths to calm himself down. Once he open his eyes something shifted, they're hooded and darker.

"So my babygirl is a stubborn one." His voice is low, vibrating through your body. His hips settled between your legs with his heavy cock pressed on your pussy, his weight keeping you in place. His lips descend to your ear "Let's see how much."

Before you could process he has turned you on your stomic, pushing your legs open with his tights and one arm looped around your waist his other hand went straight to your soaked pussy making you jump at the sudden contact.

You realize that you can't move in this position, but he can.

His fingers unceremoniously play on your clit, fishing some wetness from your entrance time to time to make it everything messier.

He brings you ridiculously fast to your high, your hips trying to push back on his touch. When you feel the firsts tremors of your high he pulls his hand from you, his tights preventing you from closing your legs, he's basically mounting you at this point.

You whine immediately at the lost, searching any contact to releave the frustration.

"Why?! Jungkook..." your whines are sweet music to his ears.

"Just a little lesson baby..." his smirk evident in his voice. That smug tone that you want so badly to wipe off... if only you could reach for his cock...

Who would though, from really nervous to desperate for his cock on you in less than one hour. That's the Jungkook effect.

His hand was back on you, dexterous fingers working you up expertly again.

You wish you could hold back but you don't even know how, the pleasure from his actions to good to run away from.

Again you're close and each time he pulls back you get closer and closer faster.

After the third time your forearms give up and your upper half falls to the bed tired, frustrated. Your boyfriend's hand holding your hips up in place, while he cups you pussy with his entire hand to help subside de clenching from your walls.

He looks down at your form, exhausted. He wanted to make it sweet and slow but he couldn't hold back at the deviance in your eyes.

He's heart took pity on your whines and moans of his name and decided it was time to end your misery. Even if caused by him, but it was a good one... it was a lesson but helped to build up your pleasure too. You're gonna cum so hard.. His body is agitated just at the thought of it.

His hand came down to caress your back, trading circles on your skin.

"Please... p-please " that was your mantra on the past minutes.

"Shhhh... it's okay babygirl." He would bring it out of you...

"You're my good babygirl, aren't you baby?" His voice saccharine on your ears, full of love.

"I'm- yes I'm.. " you words tumbling on each other.

"That's it... are you ready my love?" Your body reacted before your mind could process, getting him closer.

"Not like this baby, I want to see you"

He turned you back, facing him again and after a kiss on your forehead he riches for the condom on the night stand, ripping the foil with his teeth and putting in on himself.

Even thought you're tired and frustrated and sweaty and so wet that the bed has a pull of you right now, you can't deny how gorgeous Jungkook is. He's marvelous, so beautiful...

His hair falling in tiny ringlets from the exertion and the remains of water still there mixed with his sweat, his toned body, his light honey skin, those sweet lips and freaking pretty eyes... eyes now that are looking at you in adoration.

He lowers himself down to your body again, one hand holding your tight to his waist while the other caress your hair softly.

"I love you" simple, deep and sincere.

"I love you too, so much" you respond with all your heart.

"Ready..?" He whispers to you, not wanting to disturb the atmosphere right now.

"More than ready" and with that you feel his hand touching your pussy and gathering some wetness to lub his cock, then he start to run his member on your pussy, parting your lips and accommodating his length in the warm skin. He rubs his nose on yours and then you feel it, his bulbous head parting you extremely slowly, but the strech is there. Burning like hell fire, cuz you're small and he is big big.

Your wetness helps to easy the friction but the strech is way more present than you thought. He senses your tension and stop moving.

"Hey... hey look at me. You're okay, what are feeling?" His eyes concerned and attentive.

"Its just... it burns. How is it gonna fit? You're too b- aaah.." your own moviment, trying to get more comfortable make his length move up a little more, his hand immediately holding your hips down to prevent any more discomfort for you.

"Baby, stop moving. Take a deep breath... it's okay" Suddenly a smile appears on his lips and you question why.

"I'm big baby? Is that what you were going to say?" The playfull energy lighting the mood.

"Jungkook, don't " your blushing checks making a triunfal return to the scene, for Jungkook's content.

"There it is... my pretty blushing checks"

He gives you a tender kiss on you lips "Relax for me, I'm gonna take care of you" a cute skimo kiss taking place "And I'll fit all right, babygirl"

Your mouth gaping at the sudden bold words, your pussy clenching around the tip of his cock, making him hiss at the tightness. Feeling another gush of your juices around him, he presses a little further in, his eyes on your face.

The inicial burn is still there, but hes being so attentive and going so slow that it must be torture for him, but he does it for you. Half way in he stops, checking your expressions.

"It feels better, strange but better... please keep going Kookie"

How could he deny anything from you, he would give you the world if you wanted.

"Are you feeling good baby? How does it feel?"

He says pushing further and further, almost there... You're so warm and dripping wet and so fucking tight. How can you be so tight? He's doing everything in his power not to explode inside of you.

"Full, it feels so full... You're so deep" you say timidly.

"It's gonna feel even deeper baby, just a bit more to go"

More? Oh my fucking...

With a kiss on your lips he bottoms out making you moan loud for him, trapped in his lips.

"Shit! Oh fuck.. Jungkook" you shout out at the feeling of him so deep that you don't even comprehend how far up he is, the sensation new and so so so good. He stays still enjoying your warmth and giving you time to adjust.

"You did so good baby, so good... that's my good girl, are you okay?"

"I'm.. I'm good. I need you to move"

Move he would, carefully at the beginning. Letting you feel him and him feel you. The praises falling from his lips like drops of honey. Making your body relax and receive him like a piece of a puzzle. He's pleasure was not far too, but he needed you to cum first.

So his fingers were back to your clit pushing you off the cliff into a see of pure bliss. Your moans turning to almost screams now from how sensitive you are, your high not as strong as the other ones but still making you shake. At the throws of the moment you let out an almost inaudible word... but your boyfriend's catches, he always does.

"Louder, tell me. You're daddy's babygirl, come on. What's my name baby?" So you let it out for him...

"Daddy!" He groans at the way you say it, how the word rolls from your lips sounding so sweet and so dirty at the same time...

"Fuck yes. Just a little more babygirl, a little more... almost there..."

You clenched your walls hard and he convulsed on top of you, his thrusts irregular and fast trying to prolong his deserved high. The hot feeling of him releasing his load inside the condom making everything a little more warmer.

"Fuck I love you, so much"

"I love you too"

Two breathless confessions on your soaked sheets. After a while, he was still inside of you, you see a mischievous smile appear again, oh here we go.. what now?

"The sheets are soaked babygirl..."

Don't blush, don't blush.

Oh shit.

"There it is..."

"Hey! You have to stop doing this, its not fair!" You little angry face makes him laught, long and true and then you forget why you were angry."Okay..." he says before kissing you to distract you from him pulling out. He gets up and trying to detangle himself from you, who's attached to his arms like a life saver.

"I'll be right back, just a minute baby" his giggles are the most pretty thing on earth, oh my God you just want to squish him so hard. Kind of a violent love you have, but all in name of his cuteness. No harm, fellas. You hear a ruffling and some water, then he's back with a boxer, one of his t-shirts and towel.

"Okay lady... come here" he's beside you, spreading you tights and then you get it that hes intending to clean you up.

"What? No baby.. no I can do it" you say as you try to grab the warm towel.

"Baby, let me. You're tired and all sore." You don't miss the almost imperceptible smirk on his face. He's proud, that little shit.

"And besides... I've already seen every little piece of you"

The gasp you let out, oh girl... sucked the air of the room.

"And kissed..." that damn smile of his.

"And touched..." one cute kiss on your knee.

"And licked" his eyes piercing on yours.

"Oh my God, stop! JUNGKOOK!"

He's laughing and smooching you like a baby now "Annnnnngh you're so cute baby"

After some little kisses, he manages to clean you, put his shirt on you and its immediately spooning you into his warm body, sleep pulling you in, but you can hear in the distance...

"I love you..."

#bts smut #jungkooksmut #jungkook smut #bts x reader #bts ask #bts imagines #jungkook is cute #im back #such a lovely baby #ask

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mrsbrekkers · 3 years

Note

Hiii I just read your Jesper imagines and they're soooo good. Jesper is my fave so I was wondering if I could pretty please request a Jesper imagine? Something like y/n is a student at Ketterdam University and has finals coming up and is studying non-stop. Eventually she breaks down due to the stress so her loving boyfriend Jesper comforts her and makes sure she gets a well deserved break.

Might be based off of my current situation haha so if only I had a comfort Jesper at my disposal.

Thank you so much if you decide to write it!! And have a great rest of your day.

hi there friend! i totally understand this feeling atm, so it was easy to write it. it came out as more of a blurb ( considering i write 3000ish words per imagine, this is 1500 i believe ) but i think it makes more sense that way? just soft jesper comforting so ya know? we all need a jesper at our disposal, period.

reader is gender neutral as per usual in my jesper fics! you also, as the reader, can determine what you're studying at university, i left that to the imagination! :)

pairings! jesper x reader!

warnings! none? literally pure fluff? LMAO

word count! 1532!

COFFEE AND FINAL BLUES

Finals. They were draining. Any student at the university knew that. It was hard to get any sort of break during these weeks. It didn’t help that teachers would schedule several finals on the same day. They never wanted to give the students any breathing air. It was times like this when Y/N would wonder if dropping out was simpler. Of course, their boyfriend, Jesper Fahey, someone who had dropped out, would always tell them it wasn’t worth it. He was the only reason Y/N could say they were still in university. It became overwhelming so quickly, and Jesper was the calm in the storm.

Y/N could remember distinctly when they’d first met Jesper, because it was at their favorite coffee shop when they’d both been freshmen university students. The smell of the coffee shop, the bustling students as some situated themselves in corners of the shop, ready to begin their already large stacks of homework. Or the students who chatted away in the line, some talking of graduating that year as seniors. Some talking of their career choices. It was Y/N’s favorite place because it was so easy to become lost in it. Lost in the smell of coffee, paper, and books. Or the chatter and how it drowned one out, making it easy to fit in.

“Large iced caramel high rise please,” Y/N spoke to the barista, who gave a nod and small smile. They’d become accustomed to the freshmen’ order. When handed their coffee, Y/N went to turn and head towards their table, planning on starting up their first paper of the semester, but running into a large chest stopped them, the cold coffee rushed out of the cup, spilling all over both bodies present.

“Fuck!” Y/N looked down at the ground, seeing the now empty cup. Dammit, that was SIX dollars! Who the hell- but the words were lost in their throat as they looked up at the taller man, seeing him frantically trying to say something. It was downright adorable. Most university students would’ve been asshats about it, but the man in front of them seemed desperate to apologise.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to do that, let me buy you a new one!” The words left quickly, the man seeming to not care about the coffee he was now wearing.

“It’s alright, really, but a new one sounds nice, I have a paper to start and need the energy” Y/N said, laughing a bit. Normally, a bitchy comment would’ve also left their mouth, but they could see the man before them was trying to be kind about the situation and make it right. Someone who isn’t an asshat, that’s nice.

“Iced caramel high rise, right?” Jesper asked.

“Yeah, I’m going to go clean up. I’ll be right back,” Y/N said, moving towards the bathroom in the small shop. Once they’d fully cleaned up, they exited the bathroom, seeing their new drink on their table. A small note attached to the cup with his name on it, the classes he was taking, and that he was a freshmen. That and a small compliment.

“Jesper, cute,” Y/N said before sitting and taking a sip of their coffee.

Y/N should’ve thanked freshmen year for being as easy as it’d been, because being a senior now with less than a week to finish their fifty page paper? Was exhausting. The constant struggle to topple out of bed from long nights was already enough to make one want to cry, but alongside going to early classes, not having your boyfriend during said classes, and having no time to yourself? It was becoming too much.

The dorm was silent for the time being, Y/N sitting and taking notes for the paper they had due. They’d managed twenty pages so far, but now they were trying to gather more intel for the thirty more they needed. It was going fine, but it would only take that one thing to make them snap.

And it did. That one thing happened.

Hearing their pencil snap, Y/N sucked in a deep breath, putting their head in their hands. They grabbed the pencil sharpener next to them, going to sharpen their pencil, but after several minutes of trying, they threw the pencil down alongside the sharpener. Saints, just one good thing, please?

Y/N stood, walking towards the door to run and grab more coffee, but upon hitting their toe against the edge of bed frame, and then proceeding to topple over onto the dorm room floor, they laid there for a moment, tears appearing in their eyes. All the overwhelming sensations from the past week came rushing in, and a sob broke from their throat.

The door opened moments later, Jesper entering with the key he’d been gifted from Y/N when they’d become official. Even after he’d dropped out, he was still finding ways to sneak into the university and see his significant other. What he didn’t expect to see was Y/N on the floor, curled up into a small ball, tears streaming down their face.

“Lovebug? Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” Jesper was quick to shut the door and fall to the ground, taking Y/N into his arms. He felt them curl up to him, his shirt becoming wet in the process, but he didn’t care. What he did care about was what was causing such tears, but he had a pretty decent idea.

“Everything. I couldn’t get one thing right today. My coffee tasted weird, I forgot my key at the shop, so I had to walk back to grab it. I then came back to find out my backpack was left at class, which meant I couldn’t get it until Monday. I have my paper here in the dorm, but I can’t work on stuff due this week until tomorrow, putting me EVEN MORE behind. I broke my pencil, it didn’t want to sharpen, and then I stubbed my toe against my bed frame, and fell,” Y/N ranted, sniffling as they leaned against their boyfriend, arms around him in the best way they could manage. A small hiccup followed their rant, their eyes looking up at their boyfriend, who simply smiled a bit.

“Rough day then, hm lovebug? Finals I suspect?” Jesper asked softly, brushing his fingers through Y/N’s hair as he spoke. He hadn’t been in university long enough to remember the finals that Ketterdam would throw on students, but he imagined they were torturous. He remembered how the teachers were, that was for sure.

Y/N nodded, resituating themself so they now sat in Jesper’s lap, head on his shoulder, and face buried into his neck. They still were curled against him, but now they could take in their boyfriend’s warmth completely, and slowly, their tears died down.

“I just wish the teachers would give us breaks,” Y/N murmured.

“I know, I know. Why don’t you come down to the Crow Club? It’s slow right now, and Nina has been dying to see you anyway. A break with me, the other crows, and some food? I’m sure Nina will share some of her treats right now if you’d like her too,” Jesper offered, his hand finding the back of Y/N’s head, cradling it against him. His other arm wrapped around them, keeping them close.

“Can we? And then come back to cuddle?” Y/N asked softly, looking up at Jesper, who laughed a bit, but nodded.

“Cuddles immediately after, I promise you,” Jesper said, kissing the top of Y/N’s forehead.

“Good, I love Jesper cuddles. They’re the best cuddles,” Y/N said with a smile pulling at their lips. The first one to have graced their features in the last week.

“I missed that smile.” Jesper indeed had. He’d seen how finals wiped away all sense of happiness from the students at the university. How they made students irritated, less likely to smile. He hadn’t seen Y/N smile in almost two weeks. Leaning down, he placed a soft kiss to their lips, tasting the remains of the caramel high rise Y/N still ordered. It brought him back to the first time he’d met them, and he couldn’t help but smile like a child.

“I love you, you know that, right lovebug?” Jesper whispered against their lips, earning an airy laugh. One that Jesper knew all too well.

“I know. I love you too,” Y/N whispered back, opening their eyes to fully look up at their lover. Seeing Jesper for the first time that day, their hands softly moved from their place around him, landing on his shoulders.

“Come on, let’s go get you some snacks and sweets,” Jesper said softly, picking Y/N up, watching them squeal as they went to hop from his hold.

“I need to change silly!” Y/N exclaimed, managing to hop from Jesper’s hold, but were simply pulled back into his arms moments later.

“No you don’t, you’re wearing my sweater and sweatpants. It’s perfect attire for this!” Jesper exclaimed back, carrying Y/N out of the dorm room over his shoulder.

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mummybear · 4 years

Text

Mated In The Darkness

Words: 2102

Warnings: ABO, Swearing, Dirty Talk, Claiming, Smut, Alpha Dean, Omega Reader.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Characters: Dean Winchester, Reader, Sam Winchester

Summary: When You and Dean go on a hunt, something goes wrong. Which means that something happens that will change everything between you and Dean.

A/N: This is for Bee’s 5K senses challenge @negans-lucille-tblr Congratulations babe! Love you loads! You deserve every one and a shed load more! Enjoy my love! :D (My Prompt was - I’m not trying to stop you, love, but if we’re going to do anything tonight, we might as well just fuck. And my sense rule was - SMELL - Your fic must include A/B/O dynamics

Ko-Fi - (Here) :)

You knew you shouldn’t have gone on this hunt alone with Dean, Sam had warned you that it was a bad idea. With your heat being due any day now, you were at risk. Sam was injured, so you’d had no choice, unless you wanted Dean to go it alone, which you didn’t. Even if he’d insisted he’d go alone, you were sure that had more to do with his stubborn Alpha brain trying to take charge.

The three of you were all un-mated, but luckily Sam was a Beta and most of the time the three of you got along more than fine. You and Dean had made sure to keep yourselves separate and distanced when he was in rut or you went into heat.

Dean had only just managed to get a message to Sam and turn on his cell tracker, when you’d both noticed you were being followed. Minutes later the demons had come from nowhere and gotten the upper hand on you, knocking you out with one blow. When Dean had tried to get to you he’d been slammed against the wall so hard, that he was knocked unconscious instantly.

You wake up with a groan, trying to take in your surroundings, the trouble was, wherever you were being kept was pitch black and you couldn’t see very much. The floor is tacky beneath your hands as you crawl across the cold floor. There’s also a faint smell of blood in the air, one that unfortunately gets stuck in the back of your throat. You squeeze your eyes shut as a wave of nausea rolls through your stomach, you know better than to think it’s the smell in the air that’s causing it, especially with the way that your skin has become heated and the sweat is clinging to your skin.

Biting into your bottom lip you force down a moan as an all too familiar scent hits your nose, Dean’s in here with you somewhere. Which is both a good and a bad thing. It’s good because his scent is strong and means he’s alive, it’s bad because your heat has been known to last for at least three days at a time and you can’t lock yourself away from him while you’re trapped in here.

Right now, you’re stuck in a room with an Alpha who you want more than anything in the world. You know you’re getting closer to him when the smell gets stronger still.

He smells fucking delectable, your base instincts are starting to take over searching for him in the darkness. You can practically taste him on your tongue. You don’t stop moving until you bump into something, you can just about see the outline of a body leaning back against the wall as the moonlight streams through a few cracks in the wall where he’s resting.

“Dean, is that you?” You ask quietly, gently tapping his leg.

The room remains silent and you start to feel panic rising in your chest, although, logically you know you don’t need to worry, part of you can’t help it.

“Alpha, please. You need to wake up.” You had never referred to him as Alpha before, but you need some part of him to hear you and respond. You climb into his lap the best you can and grab him by the shoulders, shaking him gently. Being this close to him makes you lightheaded, but you need him to wake up.

His hands are on your waist before you know what’s happening and a deep growl fills the room, pulling a needy whimper from you.

“Fuck you smell good ‘mega. Now I know why you lock yourself away from me when you’re like this,” Dean’s voice is so deep, even with his face pressed into your neck, you tip your head back and shiver when his tongue runs up the column of your throat.

“Alpha, please. I need you.” The longer you sit in his lap, grinding down against the thickness trapped behind his jeans, the hotter and wetter you get.

You press your sweaty forehead against his, a breathy moan leaves your lips when you feel his hands on your skin, big hands that cover the tops of your thighs as he slips them beneath your skirt.

“Couldn’t have picked a better day to wear this,” he tells you, with a voice as smooth as expensive whiskey, you can clearly hear the smirk in his voice. You sit up on your knees and your skirt is quickly pushed over your ass and around your waist. Dean’s knuckles drag over the front of your soaked panties, until you’re arching into his touch. His fingertips move slowly to hook into the crotch of the damp material and he pulls it to the side.

“So much easy access, it’s almost like you wanted something to happen.” He nips at your bottom lip as he eases two thick fingers inside you. You moan into his mouth as he lets your lip go and starts to curl and scissor his fingers inside you.

“What’s wrong sweetheart? Did this tight Omega pussy get sick of all of those toys I hear you usin’, did you need a big thick Alpha cock to stretch you open?”

Dean’s filthy mouth is driving you crazy, but hell if he wasn’t right about everything. Your thighs start to shake as Dean’s fingers move faster, driving his fingers into you harder and the wet sounds of your juices gathering thickly starts to fill the room, mixing with your breathy pleas and Dean’s quiet praises. You lean against him, gripping his shoulders hard to keep yourself up right.

“Alpha please, I need to come,” you beg him quietly, feeling the coil in your stomach wind impossibly tight.

“Hold it for me baby, just wanna watch you squirm a little before I fuck you against this wall.” Dean chuckles as a whimpered ‘God’ falls past your lips. His thumb starts swiping back and forth over your sensitive clit, groaning as you squeeze your eyes closed and your pussy clenches around his fingers.

“Fuck Dean, I can’t,” you gasp, head dropping to his shoulder as you start to rock your hips into his hand.

“Go on then my slutty little Omega, come all over my fingers.”

It’s like the command your body had been waiting for and you have to gasp for a breath when a powerful orgasm rocks through your body, one like none of your toys had given you in years.

You barely have time to come down from your high before Dean helps you onto your shaking legs and roughly pushes you against the wall he’d been leaning against. You whimper loudly when he pushes your face against the rough bricks on the wall, kicking your feet apart with his booted foot. You hear the obvious sound of a belt buckle clanging open and you can feel the heat of his body, even through your heat as he presses up behind you. Dean roughly tugs your panties down your legs and you quickly kick them off, before resuming your position against the wall.

“So you want my knot do you ‘mega?” He asks quietly, his voice deeper than you’d ever heard it as he presses his plump lips to your ear. “You wanna come all over my thick Alpha cock?” Dean’s voice has dropped to a growl, so predatory and everything you’d ever imagined it would be. You’ve lost all the words you’d imagined saying in this moment, you can only gasp for a breath as his name rolls off of your tongue, feeling his cock start to effortlessly slide through your slick.

“Yes Dean, please. Fuck, wanna come all over your thick cock. I need you to mark me, make me scream, want you to fucking own me Alpha.” You know how desperate your voice is but your head is foggy and all you can smell is him, you’re not even thinking about who might hear you because the truth is you don’t really care.

There’s a deep and primal growl that leaves Dean’s throat as the wide head of his cock slowly pushes past your opening, you try to cling to the slippery wall in front of you. With every inch that he eases inside you, you find your breathing beginning to slow a little more. By the time his hips are flush with your ass you’re holding your breath. He’s so much bigger than you’d imagined, his cock is so thick and presses tight against your walls, it feels like he’s everywhere.

Dean pins you to the wall, his front pressed tight against your back. His breath hot against your ear and his hands are gripping you tightly, one on your hip and the other on your shoulder.

“So fuckin’ tight and wet for me baby girl, that tight little pussy stretches around my cock like a damn glove. Gonna have to take it nice and slow, don’t wanna split you in half.” Dean chuckled darkly, dragging his teeth over your earlobe slowly.

“Do it, just move Alpha. I need you.” You pant heavily against the cold brick of the wall.

Your mouth falls open in a silent scream when Dean pulls out to the tip and roughly thrusts forwards, until he’s filling you once again.

“Such a demanding little Omega, sweetheart. Good job I fucking love it when you get feisty.” He grunts, picking up his pace as you arch your back just a little, which only pushes him deeper.

The sweat is rolling off of your skin now, he’s giving you everything you need and more. Every thrust is so demanding and rough and you can already feel the coil in your stomach wound tight, so desperate for release it’s almost painful.

Your pussy is fluttering uncontrollably, the sounds of Dean’s hips bouncing off of your ass echoes around the darkened room, with your desperate whimpers and Dean’s deep growls. Everything feels more intense without your sight. He’s all you can smell, like his scent is blanketing your own.

“Can I come, Alpha? Please, I need it! I’m so close.” You practically sob, doing your best to cling to the brick wall in front of you.

Dean’s pace doesn’t falter at your words, but the hand he has on your shoulder moves between your legs and the one on your hip is now fisting the hair at the back of your head. Dean’s fingers move back and forth over your sensitive clit and all you can do is whimper his name, you feel the tip of his nose move slowly along your neck, his breath fanning across the skin.

“Fuck, I love it when you beg for permission, like a good little Omega should, so fuckin’ pretty. Do it then, come all over my cock.” Dean rasps, his voice pulls goosebumps from your skin and you feel his teeth drag along your neck gently, giving you a taste of what’s to come.

His fingers tighten in your hair and he applies more pressure to your clit, within seconds you fall apart, coming so hard that you can hardly breathe.

Dean’s thrusts become more erratic than before and his hips stutter, as your pussy spasms repeatedly around his cock. You move your head back, resting it on his shoulder.

“Alpha, come for me. Want your knot, please.” You pant, feeling the exhaustion of your intense orgasms.

“So fuckin’ close. Gonna fill you up, make you mine-” his teeth drag over your pulse point, as if to highlight his intentions. “-fuck you full of my pups, you want that Omega?” Dean growls against your skin.

“Please Dean, please Alpha.” You cry out, feeling his teeth sink into your skin seconds later. A satisfied moan vibrates against your skin as his knot catches against your walls and swells perfectly, fucking you full.

Dean catches you before you fall, his tongue gently lathing his mark in your skin. Neither of you have time to talk before the door bursts open. The two of you do your best to turn around and see what's caused the intrusion. Only to find Sam standing there looking at you both with a grin.

"About damn time, I'll give you guys a minute to…..well, do whatever." He states, waving in your general direction, closing the door with only enough of a gap for you to see each other.

"Well when we get outta here we're gonna be busy, huh?" Dean grins, kissing your cheek the best he can.

"If you keep fucking me like that, Alpha, then definitely."

Tags: @chewie-redbird @julzdec @lettersofwrittencollective @stiles-o-dylan24 @mogaruke @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @dylanholyhellobrien @desireepow-1986 @lilulo-12 @22sarah08 @ne-gans @deanwanddamons @simsadventures @charmed-asylum @nicole-lynne @hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog @defenderrosetyler @emilyshurley @emoryhemsworth @foxyjwls007 @mylovelydame21 @sunshineandwings86 @akshi8278 @peaches009 @fandom-princess-forevermore @hobby27 @akshi8278 @littlelonewolfgirl @ladywinchester1967 @screechingartisancashbailiff @maddiepants @spnfanfic-reblogs @holylulusworld @mrswhozeewhatsis @sonofabringmesomepie @deans-baby-momma @mrsjenniferwinchester @hhiggs @pisces-cutie @trina44sb @heartsaved @matsumama @adoptdontshoppets @beth-winchester21 @doctor-hp-mcu

Pond Tags: @aprofoundbondwithdean @manawhaat @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @nichelle-my-belle @notnaturalanahi @deanscarlett @roxy-davenport @impala-dreamer @samsgoddess @frenchybell @scorpiongirl1 @deandoesthingstome @deansleather @curliesallovertheplace @whywhydoyouwantmetosaymyname @waywardjoy @imadeangirl-butimsamcurious @kayteonline @supernatural-jackles @wevegotworktodo @quiddy-writes @babypieandwhiskey @supermoonpanda @deanwinchesterforpromqueen @chaos-and-the-calm67-blog @memariana91 @teamfreewill-imagine @chelsea-winchester @becs-bunker @castieltrash1 @supernaturalyobessed @ruined-by-destiel @winchester-writes @evilskank-inthemegacoven @maraisabellegrey-blog @faith-in-dean @winchestersmolder @bennyyh @clueless-gold @deanwinchesterxreader @winchester-family-business @there-must-be-a-lock @just-another-winchester @cas-backwards-tie @winecatsandpizza @firefly-in-darkness

#bees5ksenseschallenge #dean x reader #dean x you #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester supernatural #dean winchester x you #supernatural #dean winchester smut #abo #dean winchester abo #alpha dean winchester #omega reader #SUPERNATURAL AU #dean winchester SPN #dean smut #dean winchester one shot #supernatural one shot

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alexaplaysgames · 4 years

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RANKING ALL FICTIF LOVE INTERESTS BASED ON HOW GOOD I THINK THEY SMELL (WORST TO BEST) - PART 1

Welcome back guys to my own personal living hell this again. Today I will be examining your personal opinions on how good the Fictif characters smell and telling you where you are wrong. Once again, there is no room for suggestion or improvement; I am omnipotent and everything I say goes. If you don’t like it, come at me, if you want to see what it feels like to have a 5’0 woman kick your ass.

I had a request to rate more CGs from @honourlight and I’m going to! Until then, enjoy this. Or don’t. I didn’t particularly enjoy imagining these rank ass smells .

Disclaimer: some of these are based on appearance alone, since I haven’t played all routes. And please, don’t take this seriously. All the Fictif characters are sexy. They just might smell too.

1. Sage Lesath

Coming in hot (or at least he’d like to think so) at number ten is Sage. Some of you are going to get real pressed about this, so let me remind you that it is not my fault I am right. This man definitely smells like raw sweat and fourty pounds of intoxication wrapped up in a sweet sandwich of wet cat. He has got that je ne sais quoi, and by that I mean I have no clue what that absolute stank wafting off him might be. Go ahead and lick his tiddies, but don’t come crying if they taste like battery acid. People sleep with him for many reasons, but the aroma is not one of them.

2. Chava Cerilla

It would’ve been more pleasant to scoop my eyeballs out with a ice-cream scoop than to put my boo second last, but my mama didn’t raise no bitch so I’m going to be honest. This man smells to high heavens. I licked him once and could taste his rankness through the screen. If he was real I would be able to smell it from Canada. Chava definitely smells like if pure must personified decided to smoke pot during the fifteenth century when people bathed like one a month. I just know in real life that shirt would be about as clean as my search history. His hair would smell like freshly mown grass but only because there’s actually grass in it. Probably grows coffee beans in there too.

3. Sergio Jimenez

Are you upset? Good. Life is upsetting, as is how Sergio smells. How does he smell, you ask? Imagine you took a Ken doll, melted it down, extracted its essence, and combined it with Old Spice. That’s Eau de Sergio: 50% hair gel, 50% compensation for something in the form of a bottle probably labelled something like Black Ice. You know how kids used to get high off the smell of sharpies? I’m pretty sure you could do the same by simply sniffing this man. He is toxic in every sense.

4. Tess Rogers

I love this bitch but I have to be honest: she smells. Tess Rogers has a layer of Cheeto dust thicker than Nicki’s ass caked ten miles deep under her nails and 100% uses two-in-one shampoo and conditioner. She would definitely skip class to make out with a cotton-candy scented vape pen, and if you caught her would give you stank eye that still pales in comparison to the way she literally reeks. Just because you wanna be one of the guys, Tess, doesn’t give you reason to smell like them.

5. Miguel Bravo

I’ve barely talked to him, but even without buying his bonus scene I can tell this man smells like ass. Hunny, someone needs to tell you that whiskey and leather is not tasteful, it’s a nose-full, and it’s clogging my goddamn nostrils. It is not your sheer beauty that is leaving the people speechless, it’s the smell of gasoline blocking off their alveoli. Miguel smells like every man that stared into a glass of scotch at a bar ever. I don’t care how metaphorically broken inside and desperate for love you may be, take a shower before your stench bursts my goddamn lungs.

6. Anisa Anka

This is the first time in this list that I’m going to come out and say this, but I think Anisa smells fine. Not fine like Idris Elba fine, more like you should probably be fined for smelling like that but you’re cute so I’ll let it slide. You know those bottles at Claire’s scented something ridiculous like marshmallow gumdrops and unicorn barf? Anisa smells like that on a good day. It’s a little odd, enough to make you question your sanity, but withstandable. On a bad day, well, this girl wants to eat dolphins. She would probably take furniture polish and spray it on herself for absolutely no fucking reason.

Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk and I will see you all again in part two.

#Fictif #fictif heir to love and lies #interactive fiction #visual novel #last legacy #two against the world #Nicky Valentino #sergio jimenez #Fictif last legacy #tatw #httl #Felix Escellun

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dornish-queen · 4 years

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Pedro Pascal - La Vanguardia

With Javier Peña's mustache as his hallmark, the 'Narcos' and 'Game of Thrones' actor is filming in Budapest with Nicolas Cage and Paco León

Pascal, cultured, seductive and reflective, repeats as Loewe's ambassador for its Solo Mercurio perfume and is a model for 'Magazine Lifestyle'

SYLVIA MARTI 12/13/2020 06:00

Casual striped jacket, tousled hair, exquisite punctuality, and a room in Budapest. There is something about this man, generous in smiles and answers, great talkative, attractive without clichés. Pedro Pascal, 45 years old and face success. He shot The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent in the Hungarian capital with Nicolas Cage and Paco León, who apparently encouraged the show a lot; We see him without seeing him in the Star Wars universe as a galactic bounty hunter in The Mandalorian and he is Maxwell Lord, the eighties villain of Wonder Woman 1984 , perhaps the only blockbuster that, if nothing goes wrong, will make us happy Christmas.

Session in Budapest The Chilean actor shoots 'The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent' in the Hungarian capital with Nicolas Cage and Paco León

(full article and photos under the cut)

Chilean by birth, his family left the country fleeing the Pinochet dictatorship when he was a baby. Brief passage through Denmark and new life in San Antonio (Texas). Normal when speaking in your mother tongue some words in English slip through. Think before answering a question without losing spontaneity or being afraid of silence. An art.

There is still Javier Peña's mustache, which catapulted him to fame from Narcos , and you can recognize that little point of joyous irony of Prince Oberyn Martell, who almost ended the Mountain in Game of Thrones . Two roles that have opened doors that he has managed to keep safe from slamming doors and have allowed him to skip the toll of stereotyped roles. Today Pascal, well trained in theater and loved by the cameras, can do whatever he wants. Even dedicating a Saturday to star in a fashion shoot and speak exclusively for Lifetsyle Magazine .

"Nobody knows me but everyone thinks they know me," he said when he debuted as the face of Solo Loewe perfume. Introduce yourself with four words.”

I do not define myself only by them, but I am contradictory, faithful, loyal, sensitive and, at times, a bit geek.

What would surprise me about you if you knew him better?

That although I live life and enjoy family, friends and social connections a lot, I have a lonely point. I like having my space and the option of staying a day at home in a relaxed and cocoon plan .

“Even though I live life and really enjoy family, friends and social connections, I have a lonely point.”

With Covid-19, many of us are already a little tired of staying at home ...

Yes, now that I don't have much choice to go out, I'm afraid of not being able to go back to the theater, to a party, to a dinner with many people ... I really regret those times that, instead of going out, I stayed at home.

Which character has left the most impression on you?

I miss Peña, from Narcos . It was my first leading role, the first time I had time to develop the character, create his energy, his style ... They gave me a lot of freedom to shape it, even if it was based on a real person. I was able to work on it, make it my own, create the tone, invent and deepen.

Do you easily get rid of them when filming is over?

When I was younger I was very clear that they had to be left at work, that the character had to be separated from the person. I thought that with age it would get easier and easier but, surprisingly, the opposite happens to me: it gets harder and harder. Energy cannot always be organized the way we would like and I have to admit that I take some of my characters home with me.

Have you incorporated any of their phrases into your life?

Maxwell Lord has a very attractive in Wonder Woman 1984 : "Everything is fine, but it could be better."

Very eighties. Like the one Gordon Gekko said on Wall Street (1987): "If you want a friend, buy yourself a dog." Have we advanced or are we already for the fourth pet?

We have come a long way. I am very inspired by young people, their strength to face in an original way that win, win and win system that reached a monstrous level in the eighties. Today's young people go deeper into the need to respect a planet in which we all live together and the obligation to take care of it.

“Young people inspire me, they deepen the need to respect a planet and the obligation to care for it.”

I see you optimistic ...

I am a realistic and hard-working optimist. My first impression is that the glass is half empty, I have to find arguments to see it half full.

Is it true that you drew the comic strips to interact with them as a method to immerse yourself in your character in 'Wonder Woman 1984'?

I made a book with images from the eighties and sixties, comic book drawings, papers, erasers, colored pencils, markers and vignettes to better understand what it was to be a man of that decade, how his attitude was forged ... It was a way to focus to live up to what Patty (Jenkins, the director) asked for, which was a lot, and not lose sight of it. I'm a horrible cartoonist, but I had to do something practical to study, understand, and develop the character.

What does a script or a role have to have to get their attention?

Sense of humor. Even if it is a drama, a hero, a villain ... Humor immediately hooks me.

A good shield to go through life ...

The best. It is the most important thing to survive.

Do you remember the last time you laughed out loud?

Paco León immediately came to mind. When he's on set, here in Budapest, we are all happier and we laugh a lot. The entire production loves it. It has made filming more fun.

“When Paco León is on set, here in Budapest, we are all happier and we laugh a lot”

What fascinates you most about the Star Wars universe?

Nostalgia, the huge audience it has, the ability to reach so many people. It reflects our childlike imagination without limits. Create more and more worlds with all kinds of people and species. He is capable of casting the universe

What is your definition of success?

Have a healthy relationship with yourself. Nothing matters if you don't love yourself.

What would you have done if you had not succeeded as an actor? Did you have a plan B?

No. Perhaps the only thing that could have been useful to others is acting as a literature teacher, as a counselor or advisor for people who need help ... I am a bit of a therapist with my friends. And it must work, because they come back. I have a lot of common sense.

What is elegance to you? Has your relationship with Loewe influenced the way you dress?

In that of elegance I am a student, I am learning. I wear what is comfortable but I also have very finite taste and, when motivated, I really like to express myself with style. And when it comes to style, Loewe is on top of everything.

Something material that would save from a fire.

A book. I always have one on hand. Now I am rereading The Magic Mountain , by Thomas Mann. Literature is one of my passions. It is an extension of life. The problem would be to choose only one, there are so many! My identity is made by inspirations from authors, actors, dancers, the art world, the sea ... There is no self without the influence of all the things that inspire me.

“The sea is what I like the most in life. I have respect, curiosity and love for him on a religious level.”

The sea…

It's what I like the most in life. I have respect, curiosity and love for him on a religious level.

If he gets lost, I know where to look for him.

On a boat in the middle of the sea, on an island, on the beach in Chile ... Everything related to water. One of the first smells I remember, although I don't know if it's too attractive, is the chlorine in the pool.

What is your fastest way to disconnect?

Losing your mobile phone. I fell down the stairs in Dubrovnik and at first it was like, "Oh noooo." But then I thought, "Well, a week without him." I had a certain feeling of liberation. Not having to be aware of e-mails, messages ... I find it very strong that people communicate even through a direct message from Instagram. I refuse.

Now that you quote them, how are you getting along with the networks? (He has 1.5 million followers on Intagram)

I am quite active, I use it when I have a good time, but also to express myself and to give my opinion.

“I will say goodbye to the year with a kiss and raising the middle finger. He has treated me well but the collective suffering and fear this year….”

What is your favorite word?

Oxymoron. I like its meaning and its sound

Who would you like to shut up, as you did in the first Loewe Solo ad?

Personally, I would love to shut up that heavy, bad voice, the imp that we all have in our heads. That it's nice to have him and that, and I know he will never go away, but it would be nice if he shut up sometimes. Collectively I think we would all like to shut up one person.

Trump?

I suppose.

What have you learned from this rare year?

That you cannot live without human contact. For me the deep and simple connections with my friends and family is the only thing that matters.

How will you fire him?

With a kiss and raising the middle finger. He has treated me very well but the collective suffering and fear this year….

*article translated with google chrome. Source of article*

#Pedro Pascal #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #la vanguardia #magazine article #article #magazine lifestyle #maxwell lord #ww84 #the mandalorian #din djarin #lavanguardia.com

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frogtanii · 3 years

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It’s wind anon! (Imagine me as the screeching seagull meme) just pushing through the week. Getting the test out of my mind—it just sucks because there’s always this one test that I completely mess up on—and as someone who has to deal with all honors classes and my grades tend to be good, every time I fail to meet up to expectations my stress skyrockets. (Imagine a world where grades don’t matter and school is learning based rather than mark based...) Family pressures too—okay, wind anon is done ranting.

The update! The drama—I was there the moment it updated and I saw the comments rush in and I was laughing real hard.

But my reaction to the update!

Osamu POV :0!!! The insecurity... “all it did was remind him that he was alone”— I empathize because gosh, that is so real.

The attachment to Meiko though... his emotional state is on a very unstable tightrope. “Osamu had Meiko and he used to have Daichi and Iwaizumi...” that entire section has all my red flags raised. He’s going to completely break when everything comes out.

The loud clang startled me though. I was like “!!!” But it was our YN! Our kind, wonderful YN!! Trying to get snacks wwwwww.

Osamu thinking YN is cute :0 I be having a lot of thoughts about that but him squishing it down is fair. He considers himself to be in a committed relationship (though Meiko does not reciprocate and I am ready to fight regarding that) but I can respect his devotion (even if it is very misguided).

But. “After all, you were the reason Atsumu hated him now and never spoke to him anymore.” My gosh. What do I even say about this? Because the blame is entirely thrown off. I mean, you mentioned before Atsumu had a specific reason for believing in you over Meiko so I’m still waiting for that but Osamu is thinking something wrong but it’s a human action. It’s so easy to blame people to make yourself feel better. And your brain can do it without you realizing the depths of what has been thought.

Osamu being angry (!!!) and being a complete utter douche. YN literally just wanted a bag of chips and you’re here, crowding them in the pantry and being hostile. I don’t have much to say about it because he realized his mistake but by then he already stressed YN really badly and I am...(long sigh).

Atsumu to the rescue. We appreciate Atsumu very very much in this house. It really sucks that Osamu and Atsumu are confronting like this—I mean, Atsumu has been fighting a bit and Osamu had not really been listening to Atsumu on his own end prior to this confrontation so I’m...exhausted and a bit sad in the “It can’t be helped” kind of way.

“Osamu allowed him to, too in shock and ashamed to protest, much less fight back.” It couldn’t be helped considering how everything developed but...it still hurts my chest a bit, y’know? And then Osamu tries to apologize and I’m ready (so so ready) for them to communicate because they desperately need to—

But then Meiko comes in (I am...ready to throw stuff at her. Lots of stuff. Packing peanuts. All squeaky and annoying and bad for the environment just like she is—or something like that, I dunno, I’m half dead because I’m dealing with cramps rn) and all my wishes for them to finally have that much needed conversation where Osamu can finally break down and cry—all my wishes are turned to ash like.

(Angry Wind anon noises)

Meiko rubbing her makeup all over Osamu’s shirt like he is a rag. What in the... And her 4 inch heels please, I cannot, why, I can’t deal with this, I can’t, don’t make me get close to her because I’m like Yachi (stressed out of my mind). Please don’t do this to me. But yeah, Meiko with her poor makeup that doesn’t stay on her face. What the heck....

And Meiko’s scent... gross. Like, brown sugar, cute, nice, baked goods do smell really nice, (ever add a bunch of vanilla extract to a recipe? It like, perfumes around everywhere, it’s insane and wonderful) but chances are (because it’s Meiko), it’s overbearingly sweet. Chinese food (I do not trust her taste in Chinese food to be frank), I happen to come from a Chinese family, I have Chinese food for dinner like everyday, it would take a lot to be able to get that sort of scent on you. And I do mean a lot. And hairspray??? Chemical? I do not,,, I,,, Osamu, why would you breathe that in? It’s gonna be real bad for your lungs? And we already know Meiko smokes as well—your lung health, please value it—

And then the Suna entrance. Wonderfully done fr0ggy!

Final thoughts, I am very much projecting onto Yachi rn. Yachi has been in the house for less than a week and she already has to deal with this. The company should give her a raise. My gosh.

Anyway, might as well do a thoughts/headcanon thing because it’s been a while and my mind is still on gem/jewel stuff (so hope you don’t mind!)

Okay, so Kenma I think would go with a warm colored gemstone, and citrine would work well with him! “Protection against evil thoughts” because we know Meiko has ramped up is insecurity and lowered his self-esteem.

I mentioned this before last time but Sakusa is definitely onyx. That black is iconic, and “sharpening wit” would make sense with his grace for word play and snark.

Akaashi is an interesting one...I think sapphire. I mean, sapphire can have many colors besides the classic dark blue, so that’s one thing, but it’s known for “loyalty and a pledge of trust” which Akaashi gave. I think it’s suitable for him.

Suga...initially I was thinking pearl would match him in terms of appearance, but actually looking at my reference, turquoise would work really really well with him. “Protect from evil, maintain virtue, bring good luck”. Would work well.

For Atsumu and Osamu I wanted something that could represent their duality. My first thought was gold and silver. I mean, it’d fit in terms of appearance but I’m not sure that would be the best comparison. Gold doesn’t rust so it fits Atsumu who never fell for Meiko’s tricks. Silver has been said to vanquish dark/evil beings (vampires, werewolves, the classic silver bullets and stakes). It would be interesting to see if the comparison will apply to today’s update :D!

I like how my brain shut off and couldn’t remember anyone else for a second—anyway, Oikawa... every time I think of him, I want some hue of blue wwww. I guess Aquamarine “soothing influence” would work. Since he joined YN’s side, he has been able to see the big picture and be a voice of reason. He’s thoughtful and I think aquamarine which encourages long relationships is suitable because that is what he wanted. So yes, aquamarine.

Bokuto...is a tough one. I’m trying to still keep with their color schemes a bit. I think carnelian would work. “Health, luck, bold energy, warmth, joy”—it would represent him fine. It’s a bit more orange than I would prefer but it suits him so I think it’s okay.

Iwaizumi... emerald? I mean, he does suit green tones, and “rebirth, regeneration, new hope” would work just fine for him.

Right now my brain is complete mush and I can’t think of anything for Kuroo and Daichi. Like, Kuroo would be red, sure, but the more famous ruby/garnet I think don’t represent him fully because he is still rather contained. Hmm, would need to think about them more.

But I’d like your thoughts on this too :D!!

I wanna do something suitable for all colors for YN, so opal! YN has many different parts and colors and is overall a very vivid person—if you tilt opal, you see more and more faces and things underneath being brought into your eyes. YN may be seen from many different perspectives, but YN is always beautiful and amazing. So opal is what I think YN would be.

Anyway, I’ll end here :D! Need to eat lunch. Much love towards you fr0ggy! Make sure you eat and rest up too~ drink some water or any other fluid to hydrate! And keep warm too. Much love to all the fans and supporters and ask senders too! It’s really awesome seeing and hearing from all of you and seeing new faces with the old. Love the excitement and points you all bring up—makes my brain happy.

MAJDKD I NEED TO POST THE NEW CHAPTER BUT I HAD TO RESPOND TO THIS FIRST BESTIE ILY N I LOVE TUIS — I AM OBSESSED W THE CRYSTAL (??) STUFF??? IVE NEVER UNDERSTOOD IT BUT I THINK YOIVE EXPLAINED EACH GEM N WHY SO BEAUTIFULLY I AM IN LOVE W U KITH KITH UR SO LOVELY HAVE AN AMAZING DAY (sending u good vibes n anti-stress love >333)

#j’s asks #anons babey #℗ poker face #wind anon

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unstoppableforcce · 4 years

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such a simple thing

pairing: Santiago “Pope” Garcia x reader

masterlist | song link | 7.3k

a/n: I was so happy with this when I finished that I kind of refused to reread it so I wouldn’t hate it lol, I checked for errors but not as extensively as I normally do, also formatting on this hell site was fighting me so I apologize if the italics for memories aren’t encompassing

I really enjoyed getting back into the song one shots so if you enjoyed this and want more, feel free to send in song suggestions and characters you want to see paired with them :)))))

Tell me what you’re feeling, I can take the pain

“You’re quiet tonight...”

Lifting your head from the racing drops of condensation running down from the lip of your bottle, you found the patiently awaiting eyes of Santiago. He dusted the sand from the blanket you were sat on and made just enough room for himself before sitting down.

“Got something on your mind or...” his words danced through the air just as a turn in the wind pushed the smoke from the bonfire back into your face, offering you the perfect opportunity to drop you stare back down the cold sand you buried your feet in. “Honey...”

“It’s nothing.” You hummed, twisting the base of the bottle into the sand.

He sighed, glancing back to the fire and the crowd of the boys and some of their other friends on the other side of it.

Benny was fumbling with a device to keep the lights of the few phone flashlights in his hand propped up and illuminating the corn hole boards. Will was actively mocking him while he helped, the two of them both making a show of their bare chests and tattoos to the surrounding girls. And Frankie... Frankie was somehow managing a amiable conversation with the group around him while tending to the fire, his girl right over his shoulder.

But you weren’t socializing like they were, you were over here, off to the side as the sun finally dipped just beneath the horizon of the ocean.

“Does this nothing have to do with mr. No Show tonight?” He mocked hesitantly, nudging his shoulder into yours.

You quirked your head onto your shoulder to look at him, your goosebump covered knees pulling into your chest. “I broke up with him this morning.”

“Shit...” he shook his head, “I’m sorry, honey...”

Shrugging your shoulders, you reached back for you bottle and took a sip. “You didn’t like him anyways.”

“I liked him fine, more than the last one at least.”

“He was nicer than the last one...” you hummed again, but bringing the bottle to your lip, you only found it empty.

And he offered his to you instead.

“Doesn’t matter how nice he is, you still broke up with him...” he countered as you took your first sip and crinkled your face at the taste.

The light coming out from where the sun had just disappeared was just enough to read the label but it didn’t do much to clear it up in your mind. “What is this?”

“I don’t know, some shit Benny bought.” He shrugged, mirroring you as you accepted your fate and brought the bottle back to your lips.

There were plenty of drinks left in the coolers by the rest of the party but neither of you were getting up.

“What did he do?”

You groaned as the disgusting drink made its way down your throat and shrugged, pursing out your lips. “He didn’t do anything.”

“So why’d you break up with him?” Santi asked, leaning back with one arm propped up into the sand.

“Because he didn’t do anything.” You scoffed, “even if I hadn’t broken up with him today, he wouldn’t have come out tonight, he never wanted to go out. Not with friends, not even just for dinner... I don’t even know, everything was just complicated with him.”

“Well I guess now is a pretty good time to mention that I don’t remember his name anyways.” He laughed, effortlessly pulling you into it with him. “But I am sorry...you deserve better than this.”

“Thats sweet, Pope,” you chuckled, hitting his shoulder as he dipped his head down into his lap, thankful the slowly darkening horizon hid the rosy blush on his cheeks. At least until you recoiled, your tone losing all of your teasing tone. “I appreciate it, really.”

“I mean it.”

If only you knew exactly how much he meant it.

My heart is like paper, yours is like a flame

Whatever shitty beer Benny had brought got better after a few more. And you and Santi slowly rejoined the party.

And after a few more, the two of you thought it best to slowly work your way out of the party as well.

“I’m driving you home...” he said simply, grabbing your hips as you began to stumble off course through the sand on the way back to the parking lot, your shoes in hands and his jacket over you shoulders.

“I haven’t had that many—“ you held up your hand, counting off finger by finger until you ran out of fingers. “Okay maybe—“

“Come on, honey.” He cooed, holding you tight as you nearly tripped over yourself again, spiraling into a laughter that he couldn’t help but mirror with his own.

It had always been like this between the two of you.

Overseas, in some makeshift hospital tent as explosions shook the mountains around the two of you, your hands remaining steady as you stitched up the small knife wound on his forearm. You’d crack some joke, it wouldn’t even be a good one, but it’d be enough to pull some laughter out of the two of you.

Enough to take the two of you out of your heads, enough to ignore the bombs and blasts at least for the moment.

Because as soon as they stopped, that meant he and the rest of the boys would be heading out again.

“You’ll be here when I get back, right?” He asked as you wrapped a bandage around his arm and pressed it down tight.

“Depends how long you take,” you added carefully, glancing up to him and pulling your gloves off. He quirked his head and you continued, “I’m shipping back to Germany, the surgical program, remember?”

The army was making you a doctor, and as he had told you every every time he ran into you in medical tents and facilities wherever he went, you were going to be a good one.

But he missed his chance with you then.

And since reconnecting with you back in the states, he spent a lot of time wishing he could go back to those small moments with you. This was as close as he could get to it.

Unless, your wandering hands as you pulled him back to his jeep meant something more than you were just tipsy and still sad about this morning.

“Honey, what are you doing...” he hummed as you pulled his hoodie off your shoulders and tossed it into the passenger seat, moving your back to the door as he followed.

“What are you doing?” You mocked back, reaching for his hand to pull him even closer.

“Im driving you home, what are you doing?”

“Trying to kiss you...” your hands found the front of his shirt and pulled him in closer until he could feel the heat of your chest against his through the fabric of your shirt.

Everything about you was hot, searingly hot. The tips of your fingers just burning into his the skin of his arms as you wrapped them around you.

He was on fire.

Hotter than the flames that provided the only light in the harbor parking lot, the ones emanating from the bonfire the two of you had just left and the ones surrounding it. Someone, maybe Benny, maybe one of the idiot friends from the gym he invited, was spraying lighter fluid into it, sending the flames sky high and still not coming close to as hot as he felt as you drew him closer.

He had imagined this before, not in a parking lot certainly, but in a bed... this idyllic bedroom he had in his mind, a part of this perfect house he used to dream about as he watched blood and dirt run down the drain in the shower. It wasn’t his house, he never really had a house and he certainly had never lived anywhere with a fireplace, but there was one in that house, lit up as hot as your current touch.

And the candles littered around the room burned equally as bright.

Everything was so quiet, and you were always so warm.

It was an escape from the gun fire or explosions that came close to blowing his ear drums out on many occasions. It was an escape from the fight and his role in it.

Except it wasn’t real. It was just what his tormented mind came up with to stave off the nightmares in his bunk, packed in next to other soldiers like sardines in a can. It was just a dream about the beautiful medic who stitched him up, time and time again, surely the rest of the boys around him were imagining something similar.

He used the mere image of you as a distraction, even long after his discharge. In the jungles of South America, in the room they had him wait in before they prepped him for his neck surgery...

It wasn’t real though, the memory of you in his arms in some perfect house.

But right now? Your arms leaving trails of flame and smoke up his arms to wrap around his neck and bring your lips dangerously close to his... It was real, and it was so much better than he could have ever imagined.

Until the smell wafting from your breath, as you moved your lips impossibly closer to his, hit his nose.

It smelled like that shit beer Benny had brought, and the few shots that Will had challenged you to. Then everything, even the scorching touch of your fingers over the scar at the base of his neck, felt like a mistake. A drunken mistake.

You didn’t know what you were doing. You didn’t even know how much you had to drink that night. But he did. He sipped on a few beers the whole night knowing he’d have to drive home and he knew exactly what was coursing through your veins as your hips nudged into his.

It was the breakup sadness from this morning, even if you said you were okay, no one got over it that fast. It was the liquor that was plaguing your thoughts, making you think that you wanted this, that you wanted him...

It wasn’t you. You didn’t want him. Not like he wanted you.

“Santi...?” You quirked you head, clearly sensing a change in his touch. And when he froze up underneath you entirely, you recoiled back into the car, seeming to realize what you were doing for the first time. “I’m sorry, I--”

“No honey, I...”

The heat of your touch was gone, turned into the goosebumps that electrified your arms as you pulled away, taking every minuscule feeling of warmth with you as you did.

He didn’t know what to say, but he tried anyways, reaching out for you because he didn’t know what else he could do, “no, honey it’s not--”

“Just take me home...” you said quickly, hoping into the passenger side of his jeep and crossing your arms tight over your chest.

I can’t make you see if you don’t by now

Santi was a fast driver.

Notably fast really, at all times, day or night. Not crazy, just fast.

But this slow crawl back to your house and up the driveway was all he could manage as the silence between the two of you settled over him, weighing down his shoulders as the chilling breezing whipped around his topless jeep, freezing him to his bones.

You hadn’t said a single thing the whole drive back and he wasn’t sure yet if that was better or worse than the alternative.

With his jacket over your thighs, covering up the shivering skin your denim shorts left exposed, you sat unmoving beside him in the passenger seat, your hands playing over themselves in your lap. He didn’t know how to read this emotion on you, he had just never seen it before.

Never once had you been so quiet in his presence, not unless he was counting the few times the two of you had been star gazing. But those times never felt like this.

Those silences were comfortable, warm even, as the two of you huddled up next to each other in his back seat, staring at the stars over head. Nothing needed to be said then, all you wanted to hear from each other was the sound of each breath and over the forest on the other side of you.

This wasn’t that.

This silence was a weight heavier than anything he had ever felt before. As metaphorical as that assessment of it was, he literally felt his shoulders caving in where he sat, one hand extended out to the wheel and the other resting on the stick shift. And the weight of all the defenses and excuses he wanted to make for acting the way he did felt even heavier inside his chest, but he feared you didn’t want any of them.

He kept his mouth shut and pulled smoothly into your driveway before putting the car in park and turning the engine off.

He had never had to be hesitant with you. Things were just easy.

He could put his arm around your shoulder, he could kiss your cheek and tell you that you looked amazing and it wouldn’t mean anything more than what it was. Platonic love.

Maybe what he felt was more than that, but what did that matter? He was sure you didn’t feel anything more than that so he kept it to that and just hoped you didn’t figure it out.

But you must have, right? You must have known there wasn’t something more to what he felt for you.

He didn’t drive the other guys home, he didn’t chat with them in the middle of the night when the couldn’t sleep, he didn’t buy them smoothies and meet up with them after the gym because he hadn’t seen them in a few days and that was the only time they were free... no, all of that, he reserved for you.

For the woman who had saved his life more times than he could count, for the woman he loved more than anything in the world... for the woman who just tried to drunkenly jump him and who he turned down--

“I’m sorry.” You said quickly, finally looking up from your lap to meet his stare, but just as quickly shifting it away to the shut garage door in front of you. Taking in a deep breath, you continued quieter than you had started, “This morning was... and I had to much to drink... and I shouldn’t have, I’m sorry...”

“Don’t apologize,” he tried to fight in a way that kept his heart contained in his chest.

But you kept going, “I shouldn’t have, I’m sorry.”

You shouldn’t have. Right. He knew that.

You hooked two fingers into the door handle and threw it open, laying his jacket back on the seat as you hopped onto the concrete below you with a light thud. “Thank you for driving me home...”

“Anytime.” He fought back quietly, just loud enough to be heard over the gentle slam of the door shut. And as you retreated to your front door, sparing him a final glance over your shoulder, he offered a quiet, “Good night, honey.”

“’Night,” you added back with a wave over your shoulder before fishing your keys out of your pocket and unlocking your door.

He waited for you to get in, he always waited.

It didn’t matter what was brewing in his chest as he did.

I’m so tired I just don’t care

It was a week later and the same silence from the car ride home had continued to haunt the two of you, both of you unsure of what you could possibly say.

No texts, no calls, not even an email... he missed you and still couldn’t find it in himself to reach out.

Because what if you didn’t want him to. What if, after that night, talking to him was the last thing you wanted. What if you woke up sober the next morning and just found the whole thing embarrassing and didn’t want him to admit he remembered it all in excruciating detail.

What if he couldn’t see you again without mentioning that the crease between your brows looked even better up close as your face relaxed, your lips moving in for a kiss. What if he called you and couldn’t stop talking about the way your touch ignited a fire in his chest that had been stamped out and left unlit for decades. What if he saw you sober and made a casual move on you like he always did and you wanted none of that.

What if it was all just you being drunk and lonely and him mentioning it made it more than what It was.

He’d spent the whole week tiring himself out with every possible permutation of what he imagined was going on in your head and none of them made him feel any better. None of them came close to easing the tension his muscles seemed to be holding since he pulled out of your driveway that night.

He was surprised he could even manage to relax his hand enough to let go of the steering wheel when he got home.

The only outcome that he could imagine could ever possibly keep some semblance of normalcy between the two of you was to ignore it entirely, to act like he didn’t care or didn’t even notice something had happened.

And as it turned out, you had come to the same conclusion.

You greeted him at Benny’s next fight with a simple, “hi,” and spent the rest of the night with Frankie as a buffer between the two of you. At least until the break between the fights, when you went off to fetch a new drink for yourself and wandered back with a man trailing behind you, engaged in seemingly effortlessly conversation and laughter with him.

“You’ve got to stop staring at her, Pope.” Frankie muttered to him as he turned to place his body directly in Santi’s line of sight towards you.

All he could do was huff and return his hands into the pockets of his jacket, and Frankie didn’t seem to take that as an answer.

“What the hell happened after the bonfire, man?”

He shook his head, glancing away, back to the empty octagon for a breath before returning to meet his glare and realizing he wasn’t getting away without answering. With a sigh, he gave his best attempt at a convincing shrug, “I don’t know, nothing happened.”

“Oh, nothing? Really? That’s why Will tells me she called him for a ride home after a late shift the other night, the one you always used to pick her up after?” He’s careful to keep his voice down, but one glance over his shoulder told him you were far too interested in the man who was far too interested in you. “And you refuse to go with us to the baseball game Friday night after you found out she was going?”

You always called for a ride if you needed one. Sure, he planned to get you every Tuesday when they inevitably kept you late, but you always called to tell him when. And when you didn’t? Well, that was just the final nail in the coffin.

Ignoring it entirely was the only way it was going to end up okay in the long run, so he opted out of the game, yeah.

He wasn’t proud of the route the two of you were taking, but he wasn’t about to make it any worse by saying something.

“It’s nothing, just a bump. it’ll work itself out.”

Frankie let out a sigh somehow more exhausted than the one Santi had managed a few seconds earlier, but if anyone else had reason to be tired, it was the man with the one-year-old and two idiotic best friends.

“What happened?”

The funny thing was that Santi had told the truth. Nothing happened.

Your lips were inches away from his and absolutely nothing happened. The fact that nothing had happened was the problem actually, and the absurdity of that statement alone was enough to bring a veil of pure exhaustion over his body as he settled back in the seat.

The crowd was beginning to cheer again so the next fight must have been close at hand, but Frankie was still turned in his seat like Santi and whatever he was feeling was the night’s entertainment.

“You need to talk to her.” He argued in place of receiving an answer.

“She’d talk to me if she wanted to talk.” Santi huffed, rubbing over his face and fixing the cap over his head. “She always has.”

“Yeah,” He scoffed, “when she wants your opinion on other men in her life.”

Santi turned his head back to face him just as the crowd roared again, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re that man now, Pope, whether you want to admit something happened that night or not,” He sighed, reaching down for the beer under his seat and standing up as the rest of the crowd did, pulling Santi up with him. “My best guess is she’s going to Will for that advice now.”

He could pick your cheers out of the dozens around him, echoing around in his ears. Hell, he could pick the faintest sound of your voice out from stadiums away; he felt tuned to it. So when you got particularly rowdy, he knew he would turn away from Frankie’s stare and find Benny entering, shoulders bouncing and ready to fight.

He just couldn’t. Not with the weight of Frankie’s words hanging around his neck.

“It’s complicated,” he tried to defend, wielding the word like it was some sort of excuse.

“It never has been before with you two.”

With that, they both turned back to the spectacle in front of them, Frankie beginning to cheer along with the crowd, but Santi couldn’t muster the breath just yet.

Because as he looked back to you, spotting you just over Frankie’s shoulder, the man you were with already had his arm around you. And by the time the fight was over, you were already heading out with him, stopping by Will briefly, probably to ask him to pass on your “congratulations” to Benny, then leaving entirely.

There was nothing for the two of you to talking about. There were no what ifs.

You were sad about your breakup and drunk off the shit beer Benny brought. He was just a rebound, a move of last resort or something like it.

You didn’t burn for him the way he did for you.

If you did, he would’ve at least gotten a goodbye.

Can’t you see how much you hurt me?

The one night he isn’t awake at 3 a.m. is the night his phone rings.

Just the gentle buzzing on his nightstand at first, something he was barely cognizant of as he lifted his head from his pillow, a trail of drool following as he blinked his eyes open to read the exact time off the digital clock. Then his home phone began to rang, the shrill tone piercing the peacefully silent air of his whole house and rocketing him out of bed in an instant.

It was Frankie, on both lines, calling frantically, and that was the last push he needed to fall out of bed and find a worn pair of jeans on the ground and a mostly clean shirt from atop his hamper.

His mom had called him and woken him up much the same way, saying his father was in a car accident and that, while he would probably be okay, she was rushing to the hospital now and he needed to do the same. Which was no problem except his girl was out of town for work and he had a one-year-old asleep in her crib who would need to be fed in a hour.

“I can be there in two minutes, just let me find my keys.” Santi assured him and the sigh of relief that fell from Frankie’s lips over the phone was astronomical.

“Thank you...”

And it really was two minutes despite being a five minute drive. Santi was a fast driver.

Though, in parking at the curb and jogging up the few stairs of his porch, he found he wasn’t the first one there. Stood against the unfinished planter box in pathetic pajamas, a cardigan wrapped tightly around yourself and socks with lemons on them tucked into slippers was you, tearing his heart out just by being you.

“He called you too?” He asked carefully, the first thing he had really spoken to you in weeks.

You shook your head though, “no, she called, said ‘Fish called her frantically and would need the help.”

“You already knocked?”

The look you shot him clearly said ‘what do I look like to you? an idiot’ but he knocked again anyways. It gave him something to do besides stare at you in your adorable sleepwear.

And before he could bring his fist down for the second half of his knock, Frankie frantically pulled the door open and ushered you both in to the kitchen where he was fussing with bottles, the fridge door wide open.

“She’ll need to be fed when she wakes up, that’s usually in an hour and I should be back by tomorrow but if you have questions, you can call either me or--”

“Frankie, calm down, we’ve got this.” You said, your voice barely waking up out of its raspy morning drawl as you walked around the counter and laid your hands gently over his to get him to stop.

Glancing to Santi with the same crazed stare, Santi offered a similarly calming sentiment, “We’ve got this, go, don’t worry.”

That seemed to be the last reassurance he needed, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek, grabbing his hastily packed backpack off the floor, wrapping Santi up in a big hug and leaving. Leaving the two of you in complete silence besides the gentle hum of the baby monitor left sideways on the counter next to the mess he had been busy with.

And the silence was no good, not since Santi had spent so much time brewing in it in his own house, thinking about you. Now you were four feet in front of him, just a kitchen counter between the two of you and he had to open his damn mouth.

“You can go, I’ve got this if you want to head home.” He shrugged like it was nothing.

Your face didn’t react like it was nothing though.

Your arms crossed back over your chest with your loose cardigan puddling around your arms, let out a hefty scoff and jutted your hip out all in one go. “I’ve got this, you should go home.”

It was the feistiness in you that he loved, he just didn’t love it in this one moment. Because it pulled something ugly out of him, something he didn’t like but was powerless to stop as the words bubbled out of his throat.

“Honey just go, I’m sure you’ve got someone waiting for you at home anyways, so just go.” He argued, like it made all the sense in the world to say.

It didn’t though. Not as it left his lips and certainly not as your face twisted into deep confusion, the crease in your brow furrowing before pure anger took over you, unlike anything he had ever really seen from you.

Across your chest, your hands turned to fists and you didn’t let him escape the fire of your stare. All you let out was one fateful word as it slipped past the lips that had tried to kiss him just a few weeks ago.

“Wow.”

He tried to fight it back, “that came out harsher than I wanted it to--”

“Really, is there a softer way you meant to slut shame me, Pope?” You scoffed again, shaking your head as he stumbled for a grasp on the right words.

“I didn’t mean to--”

“No, I think you did--”

“Honey, that wasn’t what I meant--”

“Stop calling me that.” You said definitively, getting his babbling to stop, his whole disposition shifting to that of a hurt puppy at your words.

He had always called you that. Always. Since the day he met you and never once, no matter how many egomaniacs you dated that felt threatened by your friendship with him or how many times you tried to ditch the group to meet someone new at a bar, never once had you told him to stop calling you that.

But before he could fight it, the baby monitor released a muffled cry from where it was downturned on the counter and you quickly reached for it. Again, a cry echoed out of it, the blue light meter signaling significant noise while the both of you just sighed.

“I’ve got her--” he tried to get out, moving to the hallway back to her nursery but you held up a hand to stop him in place.

“I’ve got her, you should just go.”

“Please--”

“Go, Santi.” You added, your tone much harsher as you disappeared down the dark hall, your steps turning to tip toes before he heard the door creak open and the cried become even more apparent.

He didn’t go though. He couldn’t leave after his best friend called him to watch his baby during a family emergency, whether he was fighting with you or not.

He walked with careful steps into the kitchen and pulled one of the prepared bottles out before sticking it into the microwave to warm it gently. By the time you came back out with a quieter but distinctly awake little Mia settled on your hip, he already had it ready to go, passing it to you with one of the soft towels lying around.

“Hi, Mia.” He said softly, stroking one of the tears off her cheek.

She giggled lightly at that, she always did have a soft spot for Tìo Santi.

You, maybe not so much now as you accepted the bottle and walked her over to the rocking chair set up in the living room. He followed sitting back on the couch next to you and the silence remained.

For the whole rest of the night, it remained. You took Mia back to bed after a while and came back out into the living room, claiming the loveseat across from where Santi had now laid out on the couch and keeping the silence.

A cold and painful silence. His heart burning in pain the whole time.

It’s like I wasn’t there

“Do you know where we are right now?”

Settling into the seat next to Santi, Benny took up as much room as he possibly could until Santi just couldn’t avoid him. He had his arm over his shoulder, his knee nudging into his, his foot rest on the ring beneath his bar stool and his face in his.

Impossible to ignore.

“Yes.” Santi answered stubbornly, pushing his face away so he could grab his fresh drink from the bartender.

“It’s a bar.” Benny told him despite his answer and Santi nodded along, still confused. “It’s a bar where we’re having a party.”

“Benny I--”

“My brother’s birthday party.”

“Yeah, I know, I--”

Benny put his hand over his mouth and shook his head, “No, listen to me. You are at a party, a birthday party, and you are sitting alone, not having any fun just because the woman you’ve been in love with for a fucking decade is here.”

Santi didn’t get a response with Benny’s hand still over his mouth, so he had no opportunity to even mount a defense. Not that it would’ve mattered, Benny had eyes and there would be no convincing him he was wrong, especially as he continued.

“She’s beautiful, she’s smart, she’s saved your life more times than I can count and look,” he casually swung Santi’s head toward the pool table where you and Frankie were battling, “she’s all alone here tonight in the hottest dress she owns--”

That was the final straw. Santi pushed him off of his shoulders and made sure to get his hand away from his face, all with a practiced precision that forced Benny’s hands into a show of surrender. He raised them even higher as the rough cut of Santi’s voice broke out again, “You don’t think I noticed what she was wearing?”

“She came here alone.” He added, accentuating every word like that wasn’t the second thing Santi had noticed when you came into the bar they rented out.

“So what? So she can pick up another guy here--”

“You two are such fucking idiots,” Benny cursed out, stealing Pope’s drink for a sip before he fought for it back and ushered for him to continue. “She knows everyone in here, she’s not trying for some meaningless hook-up, she’s trying to catch someone’s attention.”

“Or she just wants to look good for herself--”

“Pope, you absolute fucking idiot. That is the dress. THE dress! The one you she wore on her birthday last year and you said ‘now if you’re ever looking to catch someone’s attention, that’s the way to do it’.”

He let his stare shift back to where you were bending over the table, trying to line up a shot without succumbing to the laughter spurred up by the group around you.

It was that dress.

How Benny remembered it so well, well he didn’t want to ask. All he knew was that he was right. It was a slip of black that flowed over your body beautifully, with a low-cut back and slit up your left leg.

If he remembered correctly, which he knew he did when it came to you and that night, he actually had said, “Oh Honey, did you wear that all for me?” with a joking intonation.

Only you responded with a little twirl and laugh, “Why? Do you like it or something?”

Shaking his head, he pulled you into a burly hug, spinning you slightly with both his strong forearms wrapped around your waist. He followed that up with a quick kiss on your cheek and pulled back to show you a smirk he just couldn’t wipe from his lips.

“If you ever walk into a room wearing that and it doesn’t catch my attention, you’ve got to shoot me, honey, because that’s not the real me.”

It wasn’t as coy as Benny’s memory, but in his head, you just laughed and shook your head, dragging him and Benny, who hadn’t gotten nearly the hello that Santi had, into the restaurant behind you to where Will and a few of your friends from the hospital had already secured a table.

“Now,” Benny leaned back in, interrupting the memory that played through his head as he continued, “I don’t know what happened between the two of you, but ‘Fish seems to think that you think she’s not into you and I just wanted to use this opportunity to remind you that A. that’s the biggest load of bullshit I’ve ever heard, and B. this is my brother’s birthday party, so whatever happened needs to not be happening here, because you’re killing the mood with all this sulking.”

And that finally pulled a laugh out of his throat.

Benny just naturally had that effect, changing even the sourest moods into something better.

With a hearty slap to his shoulder, Benny left Pope at the bar with his drink and returned to the group he had been chatting withe before, but turning back one last time before he made it to point to where you were playing and give a wink and thumbs up.

But you were playing and having fun. If he was going to do this, it wasn’t going to be now, not If he had to pull you away from your fun to do it.

Taking his drink, he followed Benny to his table to ease back into conversation instead of drinking his sorrows away, and when he saw the party begin to die down an hour later and the dancing began to slow down on the small dance floor, he finally crossed the room to you. And with one look, Frankie said goodbye to you and pulled his girl onto the dance floor where Will was with his girl.

Then it was just you and him, and finally, the two of you couldn’t ignore each other for any longer.

Tell me what your heart wants

“Hi.”

Good, at least that was a start.

“Do you want to--”

“I just want to say--”

The two of you can’t talk to each other for how long and now you can’t not talk over each other... the irony was not missed by either of you as you both stole brief chuckles.

He just overcame his nerves before you did, and got his question out first.

“Do you want to dance with me?”

His hand hung in the air, extended out between the two of you, colder than it had been even while wrapped around his glass a few minutes ago as you just stared at it. If you said no, he was pretty sure that would be the end of things between the two of you. He just couldn’t see a way back from that.

But instead, you slipped your molten-hot fingers into his and gave him a gentle nod.

He dragged you backwards from the pool table to the relatively empty dance floor, stopping briefly as both your feet found it to offer you the chance to leave, but you didn’t. You stepped up, one whole step closer to him and placed your free hand on his shoulder, his other hand slipping down the effortlessly smooth fabric of your dress to settle at your waist.

And like those nights when he took you star gazing, the silence was natural for the first few beats as the two of you began to sway with the slow song Will had obviously requested. It stayed that comfortable too, at least until you finally turned your head and made eye contact with him.

Then he just couldn’t take it anymore.

“I don’t know how it went so wrong so fast, honey-- I’m sorry, I just...” the breath he collected for the sentence fell away as you watched him try and catch it again. But all he could muster was another apology, “I’m sorry...”

As you shook your head, you gave his hand a tight squeeze.

“You’re my best friend, Santi, I didn’t mean to ruin things. I just had too much to drink and I was feeling lonely and...” you trailed off and his heart stopped, his face moving back into your distracted line of sight, all but forcing you to continue. “I never feel lonely around you, so I did something I shouldn’t have--”

“No--”

“Santi, this is my fault--”

“No, I wanted to kiss you and I’m the one who ruined it.”

Your stare shifted up from the chain around his neck to his eyes with a hopeful glint. “Why didn’t you?”

He shook his head this time, glancing around the floor to see the other couples too caught up in each other to even realize what was happening between the two of you.

“You were drunk and I thought I was just going to be your rebound... I didn’t want you to do anything you would regret...”

The sigh from your lips was the embodiment of the relief he felt at seeing the tension fall out of every muscle in your body, even your grip around his hand and his shoulder felt looser, much more like the version of you he knew and loved.

“Why didn’t you just say that...”

“Because I didn’t want to ruin anything. You’re my best friend too and I was afraid if I opened my mouth, the right thing wasn’t going to come out... like at Frankie’s that night with Mia... I didn’t mean that, I don’t even know why I said it... I just... you mean too much to me honey, I could’t lose you.”

The words flowed from his lips, barely processing through his mind as he held your stare. It was everything his heart wanted to say that night and he finally had the courage to drop the gate and let it all come out.

Because keeping it shut was losing him you. And he couldn’t lose you.

“When did this all get so complicated...” You chuckled with only half your heart behind it as his hand at your waist tugged you into him further.

“It doesn’t have to be,” he defended, “we can keep it simple.”

“Simple?”

“Yeah, just the basics.” He said softly as you leaned your head forward onto his shoulder.

“What did you have in mind?” You mocked somewhat as he pulled his hand intertwined with yours up to his lips and left a soft kiss on your knuckles.

“We start with the fact that I’ve been in love with you for over a decade and go from there.”

You lifted your head from his shoulder and stopped your swaying immediately, and he froze like had the second he smelled the liquor on your breath after the bonfire. Only this time, you didn’t pull away or drop your heated touch from him.

You just brought your lips to his and this time? He didn’t hesitate.

Like a match lighting a fireplace, like the burning heat from a bonfire or the warmth from a candle, flames erupted inside his chest, scorch trails tracing back from his heart to every point of contact with you. Your touch on his shoulder switched to his neck, igniting a trail of gunpowder up to his hairline. Your grip in his hand held tight and tingles ran down his forearm like a grenade had just gone off in your shared grip. And your lips...

Your lips were the sun, burning hotter and brighter than anything else around, the perfect embodiment of what you were to him.

He couldn’t pull you in tighter if he tried. The hand at your waist gripped into the silky fabric of your dress and pressed and pressed until your chest was flattened against his and every inch of you was a point of contact, sending every molecule of his being up in flames.

What a way to go.

And when you pulled back, desperate for a breath of oxygen before you could stoke the fire again, you sighed out a gentle, “I love you too.”

His eyes opened to find yours waiting for him, your forehead pressed into his and lit up with what had to be all of the light from every burning star in the galaxy.

“What’s your favorite constellation?” He had asked somewhat mindlessly all those nights ago, the two of you in the back of his truck, necks angled so that all you could see was the sky as you star gazed.

“The big dipper.” You answered, equally as mindless.

“Wow original,” he mocked easily, “why?”

You shrugged, your shoulder hitting his as it did. “Sometimes the simplest thing is the best thing.”

He had made some kind of joke about whatever poetic moment overtook you there and then, but he wasn’t joking as he gazed into your eyes now.

He loved you and you loved him.

Such a simple thing

tags:@itsamedeemoney @pizzahutmonkeybutt @poesflygirl @aellynera @mandolovian @phoenixhalliwell

#santiago ‘pope’ garcia x reader #santiago garcia x reader #such a simple thing #fluff #soft #sad #triple frontier

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abigailadams1788 · 5 years

Text

Humans are Space Orcs: DON’T EAT THAT!!

So I’ve been obsessed with the whole “Humans Are Space Orcs” thing for a while but I haven’t had an idea to add to it until tonight. I don’t know if this has been done before but here’s what happened: I was texting my brother and he mentioned watching this video of a guy who was eating his leftovers in the styrofoam to-go container. Like, eating it styrofoam and all.

You’re probably like “You idiot don’t eat that!” and my next thought was “What if an alien reacted to that?”

Cause here’s the thing: we’ve all seen the posts of humans eating anything. We consume caffeine by the gallon in the mornings just to stay awake. We eat chocolate by the pound cause it tastes good and lifts our mood (don’t act like you didn’t gorge on that chocolate pie/cake at Thanksgiving. We all know you snuck that third piece when no one was looking.) We consume fruits that have cyanide-filled seeds. Hell pineapple is toxic if it’s unripe but we put it on pizza and salads anyways. It’ll burn our tongue anyways but we still eat it.

So naturally, aliens are in this mode of “Humans can eat just about anything. They come from this major Deathworld; why wouldn’t they eat everything? They already said “Fuck you” to the natural order of predation. Might as well have an appetite to facilitate that.” So just imagine this:

Xa’var shuffled into the mess hall after a long what xis human counterparts would say day. Xa’var had been up since the first shift and was just now getting something to eat. It wasn’t easy, being the liaison for xis’ council and the humans, but it was a job Xa’var took pride in.

Laughter caught Xa’var’s attention. The humans that xe had come to consider friends were hunched over a holo-device, laughing at whatever they were watching. Curiosity arose in Xa’var’s mind. It was always a fortuitous occasion to learn more about xis’ counterparts. It could even be a new report to make to add to the “How To Deal With Humans 101″ handbook. Xa’var used xis main tentacles to walk over to the humans’ table.

“Hello, Human Rachel. Hello, Human Todd. Might I inquire as to what it is you are watching?”

“Oh, Xa’var! Didn’t see you come in.” Rachel bared- smiled- there were still many things to get used to about the behaviors of humans- at xim and moved over so Xa’var could lean down comfortably. “Todd was showing me this video of this idiot eating his leftovers with his to-go box.”

Xa’var leaned down and focused one of his eyes on the holo-device while the other watched the reactions of the humans. On the screen, one human male was eating a white contraption that appeared to have rations in it. Other humans were telling him to cease the action, but he seemed to not believe them. Todd and Rachel seemed to be very amused, though the humor was lost on Xa’var.

“I am confused.” Todd wiped his eyes- note to add to the handbook: humans cry when laughing.- and looked up at Xa’var. “What is the human doing wrong?”

“Dude.” Rachel snorted, seemingly trying to not laugh. “You don’t eat styrofoam. Everyone knows that.”

Xa’var was astounded. He had believed that humans could eat anything.

Xa’var remembered when someone had accidentally spilled another’s ration on xim. The result was an extended stay in the medical wing because the acids in the foods had almost burned through xis carapace.

When Human Rachel came to check on xim and asked to see the rations, they were brought in for her inspection. To Xa’var’s horror, after smelling the rations, Rachel had taken a rather large helping and eaten it.

Instead of immediately convulsing and screaming in pain, as what had happened with Xa’var, Rachel simply moved her shoulders in a movement that Xa’var recognized as a shrug and said: “Could’ve used a little more spice.” When Xa’var had inquired as to how she could handle the acidity of the food, she had laughed and commented that her mother- the human term for egg-layer, since apparently humans weren’t hatched- used to make something called a curry that burned when one ate it. Xa’var had made a note that night to his council to avoid the human food known as curry at all costs.

“You... you mean humans can’t eat everything?” Xa’var knew it was not the most tactful approach, but the fact that the man was being seen as an apparent imbecile for eating his food container seemed to Xa’var to be a type of prank. Surely they weren’t serious about it?

Both Human Rachel and Human Todd lifted the hair above their eyes- eyebrows, Xa’var mentally corrected- in surprise. “Who told you we could?” Todd asked.

“I...” Xa’var felt xis skin start to flush with embarrassment. “It has been believed for a long time that humans can eat anything.”

“Well...” Human Todd leaned back in his chair. “I mean, we technically can eat anything, but there are things we shouldn’t. Does that make sense?”

“I am afraid it does not. Could you please elaborate?” Hunger temporarily forgotten, Xa’var lowered into a neighboring chair, tucking his tentacles under xis carapace to facilitate a comfortable position; new information was always worth giving one’s full attention.

“So here’s the thing: our stomach contains something called hydrochloric acid, which is largely responsible for breaking down everything we eat and converting it into energy, basic nutrients, proteins, you get the idea.” Xa’var nodded along, a habit xe picked up from xis human counterparts as a body language that communicates understanding. “Now we humans measure the acidity level of acids on what we call a ph scale. It runs 1 to 14. 7 is neutral, with numbers above it being alkaline in nature and numbers below 7 running acidic. The lower the number it is, the more acidic it is. 6 is more acidic than 7, 5 more than 6, and so on.”

“I see, I see.” Xa’var nodded again, enraptured now. Xe had been educated on the different scales humans use to measure things, so xe knew what a ph scale. Though, for xis people, 7 was actually capable of causing severe burns. A 4 could sear through a warrior’s carapace with ease, while anything less than a 3 was guaranteed death.

“So where does a human’s acid level fall?” In the back of Xa’var’s second brain, the knowledge that could come from this could be useful in avoiding injury should a human’s internal organs were exposed during a battle. Given a human’s resilience, xe wouldn’t be surprised if that happened at some point and the human continued to fight.

“It depends,” Rachel spoke now. “If someone hasn’t eaten in a while, the acid in their stomach might level out at about a 4, but while they’re eating it’ll go up to a 2 or even a 1.” Xa’var felt xis eyestalks retract slightly in horror. “Lemon juice is typically considered a 2, so if that helps put in perspective.”

“Y-yes. But I am still confused as to what you meant by “shouldn’t eat”.” Xa’var cleared xis throat, trying to not let the rising horror be exposed. Levels out at a 4?!? Rises to a 1 while they were eating!?! A 1 would melt the carapace and internal organs of his people with ease and continue destroying until it was neutralized, but this happened as a natural occurrence within a human’s stomach?? Multiple times a day!?!

“Ah, yeah. Well, I guess it’s kind of like what happened with you a couple weeks ago.” Rachel shrugged, crossing her arms. Xa’var recognized the body language as bored, not hostile. It was a fine nuance, but one xe was proud xe could spot the difference in. “Humans can eat virtually anything cause our stomach is so acidic it will kill virtually any virus or bacteria that enter with our food on contact, with very few exceptions. Even then we can fight through most illnesses and poisonings as long as we keep our immune system up.

“That said, there are some things we just shouldn’t eat because it provides no nutritional value to us. Styrofoam is one of those things. Glass, plastic, rubber, paper,” Rachel shrugged again. “We can eat all of those things, as evidenced by people who do, but we shouldn’t because they don’t provide the nutrition our body needs.”

“So, what you are saying is that, while humans are perfectly capable of consuming anything, but chose to not because of nutrition concerns?” Xa’var felt the inquiry sounded more absurd spoken than it did in xis head. To xis surprise, Human Todd and Human Rachel nodded.

“Pretty much. We can sometimes get what we call “acid reflux”, which is when the acid in our stomach rises into our esophagus. This is caused by allergies or a malfunction of the internal blocker we have to prevent that from happening, but it’s rare. Usually it’s caused when we eat something that doesn’t sit well with us and causes an imbalance in our stomach acid.” Human Todd confirmed.

“And this is not dangerous?”

“Oh no, it definitely can be.” Rachel commented far too nonchalantly for Xa’var’s comfort. “Usually it’s just uncomfortable, but it does burn like a bitch. It’s why we start crying whenever we throw up. Our esophagus doesn’t have the natural lining our stomach does to protect it from the acids, so the acids literally burn away our throat. Some people have burned a hole in their throat because of acid reflux. Most of the time though that can be fixed with a simple dietary change, though some people have to take medicine to help balance out their ph levels.”

Xa’var’s brains were reeling. Not only was the initial belief confirmed (humans can indeed eat anything), but they were capable of doing so because their internal organs contained an acid strong enough to melt his carapace! It could even burn the humans’ own throats but they treated it like it was nothing!

“Are you alright, Xa’var?” Xa’var blinked. Rachel was staring at xim with an expression xe recognized as concern. “You’re white.” Looking down, Xa’var realized xe was indeed white; xis people’s skin changed color based on emotions. Apparently, the horror xe felt was enough to cause xis body to involuntarily react and try to camouflage xim with the surrounding tables and chairs.

“Y-yes. I am fine, Human Rachel.”

“You sure? Have you eaten anything today?”

“I, have not. I will go do so now. Thank you for telling me this information.”

Rachel and Todd watched as Xa’var maneuvered out of the mess. Despite xis words, xe was going the opposite way of the food. “What’s his problem?” Rachel asked.

“I dunno. Maybe a long shift?”

“Maybe.”

Little did they know that Xa’var was heading to xis quarters to not only update the “How To Deal With Humans 101″ manual, xe was also going to send a very important message to his council about the truth of a human’s terrifying ability to eat anything.

Follow my writing Tumblr @the-red-dragon-queen for any and all new writing posts!!

#humans are space orcs #humans can eat anything #humans are weird #humans are space australians #humans are strange #humans are terrifying #humans are the weird ones #thought dump #this came out of nowhere #i like it though

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devildom-diaries · 4 years

Note

The idea of mc being a gen z is just *chefs kiss* 👌🏻 can you imagine the bros just walking in the kitchen at 3 am just to find mc making chocolate pudding for everyone 😂

Hmm. You know what, I think you’re onto something here anon... 😼

Sidenote; whenever i hear the words ‘chocolate pudding’ my mind immediately goes to that one scene from the Cinderella II movie (please tell me that at least ONE of you knows what I’m talking about 🙃 )

The brothers react to MC making chocolate pudding at 3 am

Lucifer

- Wut in tarnation is going on here

- “MC, let me get this straight... you are up at this hour concocting some chocolate based substance at three o’clock in the morning because ‘you are AnXiEtY’ ?” ... make it make sense

- This really can’t be good for your sleeping schedule, but he is not in the mood to deal with your antics right now

- “Fine, I’ll excuse your strange behavior just this once. But if you let me catch you pulling a stunt like again, I’m going to have to intervene.”

Mammon

- Says that he “just so happened to walk into the kitchen” but he was definitely searching for you around the house after he wasn’t able to find you in your room

- Bugs you every 2 seconds trying to sneak a taste and- MAMMON I SWEAR TO FUCK I WILL ADD YOU INTO THIS MIXTURE AS AN INGREDIENT IF YOU DON’T BACK UP

- Instant puppy dog eyes because he really wants to try some, but he can’t exactly eat the dessert if he is the dessert

- Pouts and sulks in the corner until you give him his pudding AND complimentary head-pats

Leviathan

- Was pulling an all nighter, binging his most current anime, when he all of a sudden started to get tired - but SCREW THAT HE NEEDS TO FIND OUT WHAT HAPPENS IN THE NEXT EPISODE

- Headed towards the kitchen to get some DevilBull to boost his stamina when..

- { insert spider-man pointing meme here } “What are you doing up so late at night?!”

- Tries to seem uninterested in what you’re doing but keeps looking over at you: “It’s not like I want any or whatever!! But if you decided to give me some, I wouldn’t say no...”

Satan

- Well this is strange ؟؟؟

- When he showed up to the kitchen, to make himself a soothing cup of tea, the last thing he expected to see was you dancing around the room, cocoa powder in your left hand and a whisk in your right

- Can’t tell if this is actually real life or if he’s just hallucinating..

- Simply states: “I am not dealing with this right now, I’ll see you in the morning” and DIPS

Asmodeus

- “MCCCCCC... the bed is so cold without youuuu. What are you even up to so late at night?”

- “If you wanted to do something this late I could’ve given you something better to do” ;-)

- Puts his head on your shoulder as you stand over the stove, resting his eyes (because we all know how important beauty sleep is to Asmo)

- Takes advantage of your distracted stance and takes a good whiff of you because nothing beats the smell of pheromones

Beelzebub

- Are y’all really surprised? I mean he was probably in the kitchen way before you even showed up lol

- You are his SAVIOUR

- No really, he truly believes that you must be his fairy godmother, because just when he was wishing that somebody would make him something to eat *POOF* you appeared

- You made this for ALL of the brothers? Nah that’s his now, so have fun with that

Belphegor

- Woke up to the sound of clattering pans and utensils in the distance (despite popular belief, he’s actually a pretty light sleeper. He just pretends to stay asleep for longer in order to avoid everyone else’s bullshit 🙂 )

- Quietly watches you while you work because he is a good boy...

- Him being so well-behaved definitely has nothing to do with the fact that you’re stirring a pot of boiling chocolate, which could be flung at him without warning, if he were to be a salty little brat right now

- Makes you spoon feed it to him because wow how convenient he’s all of a sudden “sleepy” again ( liar )

#obey me #obey me!#om!#obey me shall we date #obey me! shall we date?#obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me levi #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me asmo #obey me beelzebub #obey me beel #obey me belphegor #obey me belphie

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cheri-translates · 4 years

Text

[CN] ASMR Transcripts (Lucien)

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for ASMRs which have not been released in English servers! 🍒

This post contains transcripts of the following:

> eating on the sly - 偷吃

> unexpected night - 意外之夜

> whispers on a quiet night - 静夜私语

> dazed - 迷乱

eating on the sly - 偷吃

[ sound of footsteps ]

What’s wrong?

Walking quietly on your tiptoes - are you preparing to open the refrigerator?

[ flipping of paper ]

Why are you walking towards the kitchen then?

Come here.

Sit next to me.

[ MC walks over to him and sits down ]

Didn’t you say you were going to sleep early starting from tonight?

You want to eat desserts?

If I remember correctly,

It seems you just went to see the dentist yesterday.

You needed to do so for a photoshoot?

Are you sure you aren’t lying me?

[ rustling noises ]

Silly.

It’s not that I don’t believe you.

[ rustling noises, then Lucien sighs ]

I can’t do anything about you.

But let’s make it clear.

You can only have one share.

[ Lucien walks to the fridge and returns. MC starts eating, cutlery clinking ]

Eat slowly.

It’s all yours.

This bite is for me?

All right.

But I might not be able to give a professional assessment.

[ Lucien takes a sexy bite ]

Mm.

The method of preparation and taste are very authentic.

[ sexy biting noises ]

The only flaw… hmm… its sweetness seems to be on the high side.

[ cutlery clinking sounds ]

Eh? Why have you stopped eating?

Your teeth hurt?

As expected.

I shouldn’t have agreed to let you eat it.

Does it hurt a lot?

Wipe your mouth first.

[ tissue sounds ]

Open your mouth and let me have a look.

Your teeth don’t seem to have any issues.

As for your gums…

Why do they look so red and swollen?

[ Lucien sighs ]

Looks like from today onwards,

You won’t be able to eat desserts for a period of time.

This…

[ Lucien takes the dessert ]

I’ll be taking it away.

Sit here obediently.

I’ll bring the painkiller spray over.

[ Lucien walks away, rifles through a cupboard, then returns ]

Come here and put your head on my lap.

Don’t move.

Nothing.

But if you keep moving, I can’t guarantee that nothing will happen.

Open your mouth.

“Ahh”

Open wider.

Wider.

Mm.

[ spraying sounds ]

What’s wrong?

It sprayed onto your face?

Didn’t you agree not to move around?

[ Lucien grabs a tissue and wipes MC’s face ]

Even though this is a painkiller spray

It doesn’t have many irritants.

But you still need to clean it with water to prevent any remnants.

[ Lucien wipes MC’s face ]

Let me have a look.

[ Lucien wipes MC’s face ]

Mm. Wiped clean.

Still want me to wipe it a little more?

Persevere for a while longer.

[ Spraying sounds ]

After spraying, keep it in your mouth for a while.

Don’t swallow it.

For around a minute.

The instructions say that doing so will allow the medicinal effects to be optimised.

All right, I’ll have to trouble you to persevere for a while.

[ Lucien walks away to store the spray into a cupboard. Then, he returns ]

Is it very bitter?

The pain hasn’t eased?

Hmm… If it’s bitter, shake your hand.

It the pain hasn’t eased, nod your head.

Good. If it hasn’t eased, you might have to disturb the doctor tomorrow.

[ Lucien flips through some documents ]

Almost done.

Give it a try - does it still hurt as much as before?

Mm. It’s good that it doesn’t hurt.

Your expression just now - you looked like you were suffering.

[ Lucien laughs ]

Are you genuinely tired, or are you trying to change the topic?

[ rustling noises ]

But it is time to sleep.

Why are you looking at the fridge again?

[ Lucien sighs ]

Looking at me like that - does it mean you want to eat?

You agreed just now.

Only once.

Hm?

[ Lucien sighs ]

Even if you need it for work purposes, you can’t.

You don’t have to put on a brave front.

The job of being a taste tester - you can give it to someone else.

Or once you’re well, you can taste test as much as you want.

So, promise me.

Go to sleep now. All right?

Mm. That’s being obedient, and worthy of a reward.

As for the contents of the reward…

How about this?

[ Lucien kisses MC. Once. Twice. Thrice. ]

Why are you hiding so far away?

This isn’t called taking advantage of somebody’s difficulties.

It’s called “compensation”.

[ Lucien laughs ]

I’ll stop messing around.

Go on. Wash your face and rinse your mouth.

After that, return to the room and sleep. Okay?

unexpected night - 意外之夜

You’re back.

Why are you being so secretive today?

What are you hiding behind your back?

Hm?

[ rustling of bag ]

Spicy duck clavicle?

Let me guess. Is it because I mentioned that I’ve never had duck clavicle before? Which is why you specially bought it for me to try?

Hmm. I am indeed quite curious.

In order not to disappoint you, it looks like I’ll sample it properly.

[ rustling of bag ]

Mm. It smells fragrant.

It feels like there are a mix of various spices.

Mm. Right now, another sweet fragrance has been mixed together with it.

You can’t wait for me to try it? Hm? I’ll try it.

[ rustling of bag and Lucien’s crunching ]

Mm. It’s a little different from what I imagined.

When it first enters my mouth, it’s sweet.

After chewing for a while, it becomes a little spicy.

The meat is very firm.

[ more Lucien munching sounds ]

Mm. Delicious.

A greedy cat looks like she’s about to start drooling.

Come and eat it together with me.

[ rustling of bag and Lucien chewing sounds ]

Hm. So this is the flavour you like.

If I ever chance upon similar small bites, I’ll remember to bring some back.

After all, as compared to enjoying these delicacies myself, I obtain more satisfaction when watching you eat.

Especially when I think of how this cute sight of you eating is something only I can enjoy.

Come to think of it, I seem to have discovered something. Lean closer, and I’ll tell you.

Hmm… I discovered that when compared with the clavicle you’re eating now, yours looks even more tempting. Could I have a try?

Why are you hiding so far away from me? Are you afraid the oil on my hands would get onto you? All right, I’ll stop teasing you. Eat quickly.

[ more crunching ]

Hm? I can take my spices?

I guess you could say that. The sense of spiciness is more accurately the burning sensation created by the capsaicin stimulating the tongue. This is why we often say that spice is a type of pain rather than a taste.

Perhaps I am not as sensitive to this type of pain.

[ rustling of bag, footsteps, sound of running water ]

However, I don’t think this is an ability that one should be envious of.

People who are more sensitive to such pain are better able to experience the stimulation caused by spicy tastes. Am I right?

Realistically speaking, I’m very curious about such tastes.

I even want to give it a try.

For example, like you – eating until your mouth has become red, and your eyes are red too. As though it’s a special experience. Subtle pain is often more stimulating to the senses.

Many people cannot resist such stimulation.

Especially when it comes to a greedy cat who can’t resist temptation.

However, the thing that was originally meant for me to eat ended up being eaten by you.

How should I punish you?

Hmm. As compared to the spiciness from the food, here. Your slightly swollen lips and their redness - they present a greater temptation to me.

One cannot help but want to give it a try.

[ Lucien kisses MC ]

Mm, delicious.

This is also considered a dirty trick?

Hmm, if that’s the case, it does make sense.

After all, you specially bought this delicious food for me, and yet I’m bullying you.

It is a little too much.

In that case, how do you want to punish me back?

How about punishing me by letting me kiss you two more times?

Hm? I can’t do that?

How about this. You set the rules. Whatever you allow me to do, I will do.

Punishment time will last till you’re satisfied. Is that okay?

dazed - 迷乱

[ Lucien’s breathing ]

Sorry.

Did I wake you?

Just continue sleeping. Nothing’s wrong.

[ rustling of sheets ]

I’m not lying to you.

Aren’t I all right and laying by your side? I’m not going anywhere.

Hmm...

It’s true that I can’t really sleep.

I wanted to disturb you.

But when I saw you sleeping so soundly, I couldn’t bear to disturb you.

Okay.

When I can’t sleep next time, I’ll tell you.

[ MC takes something ]

That thing in your hand -

Is that the “Unhappy Blind Box” you gave me? I’m not unhappy.

I just want to take a look.

Maybe that note had accidentally fallen off.

Even if I’m not unhappy,

I can take a look at what you’ve prepared for me.

[ box sounds ]

Mm.

I really want to open it and take a look.

I really, really want to.

Really?

[laughs] Okay.

We’ll treat this as a small exception.

It will definitely not set a precedence.

Mm.

What’s stored in this box

Seems to be a somewhat special coin.

A prop for hypnosis?

So that when I’m unhappy, I can be hypnotized and forget my unhappiness?

[laughs]

I don’t need such props.

I’ve already been hypnotized by you since a long time ago.

It’s not that I don’t trust it.

It’s just that from a scientific viewpoint...

[laughs] Okay.

I’ll trust that it’s a prop that can hypnotize a person.

You want to prove its efficacy?

[ MC takes the coin out of the box ]

Looks like I’ve completely roused you from sleep, haven’t I? Let’s give it a try then.

I’ll help prove it to you.

Mm.

I’ve already been hypnotized by you.

[ Lucien’s breathing ]

How I feel now...

A little warm.

Because you’re leaning in very close.

How could I dislike it?

You could even come a little closer.

The closer the better.

These are words from my heart, of course.

After all,

Right now, I’m under your hypnosis.

I’ll do everything according to what you say.

Anything at all.

You’re the cutest person in the world.

I won’t remember everything that happens during the hypnosis. I’m lying down properly.

Touch me? Of course you can.

Anywhere is fine.

[laughs]

It feels a little ticklish.

Warm?

Me?

I don’t feel that way though.

Nope.

You’re the first person to touch me like this.

Mm, very comfortable.

If you continue,

I can’t guarantee that nothing will happen.

Are you still going to continue?

[laughs]

Based on your typical rash and curious style,

I even thought you wouldn’t stop.

I’m not lying.

I said that I’d help you prove

That it’s a prop which can hypnotize a person

Aren’t I doing what you said?

Saying that you’re the cutest person in the world -

It’s naturally words from my heart.

Lay down properly.

I’ll let you,

Just like this,

Touch me.

[ Lucien’s breathing + kiss ]

Here.

[kiss]

Here.

[kiss]

And here.

Does it feel comfortable?

I also want you to experience what I felt earlier. Right now, you can’t sleep even if you wanted to. I’ve found a way to fall asleep.

Only you can help me.

whispers on a quiet night - 靜夜私語

Come in.

Just put it on the table.

You’ve worked hard.

Head home early.

[ clinking sounds ]

There’s no need to keep the equipment over there.

I’ll need to use them later.

You…

…what are you doing here?

You’re here to help me.

Where’s Pete?

You’ve already let him return?

Of course it isn’t a problem.

It’s just that

I didn’t expect for you to appear here…

I’m a little surprised…

However…

I like this surprise very much.

How is this teasing you?

Could it be… that you don’t like this?

[laughs] That’s good.

Give me a moment.

I’ll be done soon.

[ clinking sounds + footsteps ]

All right.

I’m off work now.

Let’s return to the office first.

Why is your hand so cold?

Are you cold?

In that case…

[ Lucien blows on MC’s hand ]

Is it a little warmer now?

[laughs] Silly. There’s nothing on your face.

It’s just that

I simply want to look at you.

Really.

Just simply looking.

I’m not lying.

Mm… I’ve been wanting to ask since just now.

This white coat on you

It seems a little big.

Hm.

This piece of clothing -

Is it mine?

Hm. Let me have a proper look.

[laughs] I’ve seen it clearly.

It’s indeed mine. [laughs]

In that case, I’ll be taking back my earlier comment.

Hmm. This white coat -

It’s very suitable on you.

It looks very nice.

You look like a professional and qualified assistant.

Does this count as acting shamelessly?

But

I’m just saying what I genuinely think. Is that not allowed?

[laughs] All right, I’ll stop teasing you.

Wait for me to send a report.

Hold on for a while longer.

Is that okay?

[ footsteps + typing ]

Hm?

Working overnight today -

Pete told you about it?

Mm.

It’s only for today.

I’ll be resting tomorrow.

Really.

[sighs] All right.

Let’s…

Eh? What’s wrong?

All right, I’ll sit down.

Judging from your expression,

It seems you’re going to criticize me.

Mm.

I was wrong.

I promised you -

To get off work punctually,

And get rest punctually.

Today is an exception.

It won’t happen again.

[laughs] All right.

Pinky promise.

[ typing sounds ]

You… even brought a bolster over.

Are you… intending to give me a massage?

[laughs] Here?

Sure.

I’ll listen to you.

In that case… could I request for this little assistant

To help me remove my spectacles first?

[ sound of spectacles being removed ]

Thank you.

Next,

I’ll leave myself to you.

Mm.

Your bolster is very soft

It’s very comfortable.

It feels

Very easy to fall asleep.

It’s okay even if I fall asleep?

But

You’re here.

I can’t bear to sleep.

Are you going to start?

All right.

[ Lucien breathes ]

Hm?

It doesn’t hurt.

[ Lucien winces ]

It’s a little painful.

It’s a very comfortable type of pain.

Because the spots you located are very accurate.

[ Lucien breathes ]

Hm?

I’m not laughing at you.

I just think

You really do look like a “professional”.

Of course, it isn’t just because of the white coat.

You know much more than I can imagine.

For instance,

Professionally planning my work and rest,

Professionally curing fatigue,

No matter whether it’s physical

Or emotional.

Professionally lifting one’s mood,

And,

[ kiss ]

In this matter.

You’re also very professional.

[laughs] All right.

Since it’s already past working hours,

Accompany me in being wilful.

Is that okay?

Come, sit on my lap.

Also,

This isn’t the laboratory.

So this piece of clothing… you can remove it.

I’m still more used to such rest.

Just like this.

Don’t move.

I’ll recharge my batteries for a while.

And we’ll go home.

Is that okay?

45 notes · View notes

fullsunalicia · 4 years

Note

since i just noticed we are in DIRE need of some yuta around here and i love your writing to bits... may i request a friends-to-lovers!au with our one and only osaka prince?🥺 some tooth-rotting fluff with a dash of angst sprinkled in between? thank you so much!💚

velleity • NMY

velleity (n.) - a wish or inclination not strong enough to lead to action. an accurate example: the love that has been blooming inside your veins for nakamoto yuta, long before you even knew what it was like to fall.

thank you so much for your request !! i love yuta with all my heart and i was so happy when i saw your message 🥺 i hope you enjoy bubs!

You meet Nakamoto Yuta in elementary school, back when his Korean was clumsy and his beautiful features had still been a mystery beneath these chubby cheeks. The grimace the boy presented when you pulled at them didn’t reveal them, either, so for a very long time both Yuta and you couldn’t ever imagine calling the other ‘beautiful’.

Now, it would be blasphemy to call him anything but. Yuta’s face is what people claim to be picturesque. Perfect, down to the last detail. To assume that he is flawless would be a lie, but you’re convinced that your best friend isn’t far from that. He looks like he jumped straight out of a fairytale, like the prince you had been imagining every time your mother read you a good-night-story. You see him when you close your eyes, long after you slipped into a dream. But because you never reduced him to looks, you get to brag with the title ‘Yuta’s best friend’. You know him inside out, all the little things and the trivia behind it. Your knowledge is a treasure, expanded over the many years where you get to know this precious soul and watch it grow. Take shape, a rose exploding out of its’ bud.

That knowledge contains the silliest facts. He loves takoyaki, especially when you cook it. Despite the fact that you’re not japanese and will never reach the culinary skill level his mother is on, he inhales the food like it’s his last meal and then bombards you with every single compliment he can muster up. He also loves soccer, but quit it to focus on school and later on becoming an idol. Another funny fact is that Yuta hates the taste of limoncelli, because it’s the first alcoholic drink you ever gave him and then procceeded to get him wasted with. An hour later, he vomitted it out. (To be fair, he asked for you to get him drunk because he claimed it’s the only way to cure a broken heart. Clearly, this man has never had the perfect comfort food.)

You have read Nakamoto Yuta and studied him like a favorite book, a favorite read. There are folds in his soul from pages that you hold more dearly than anything else, and torn pages that represent the many fights that you both had. Yuta is familiar, constant. From time to time, you take him out the shelf, dust him off and fall in love with him all over again. The story enamours you every time. Your best friend stole your heart when you were sixteen and unknowing, undisturbed, when he held you so tightly you were going to suffocate. The smell of perfume and home. Loud whistles from both of your friend groups, a heartbeat that resonates inside you as if it was your own.

Befriending Yuta had been fate. It had been like meeting a kindred spirit, and you broke the golden rule. You fell in love. You feel that love even now, when you look into those ebony eyes. You’re looking at him, but he’s looking at her.

Heart-wrenching. That’s what it feels like when you serve him his favorite food but he still can’t tear away his gaze from her, and you reminisce the days where he would cheer like a little boy and thank you with the brightest light in his eyes, even though your first tries at the dish must’ve been only edible at best. You grab for a chopstick and aim for his head, and he whines loudly when it meets its’ target. “You’re so mean! Is that the thanks I get for visiting you at work?”

“You mean bothering me, idiot?” You roll your eyes and turn around to wipe the counter. Of course your stupid heart had beat faster the second you saw him step into the restaurant, just for it to shatter into a thousand pieces when you realized that he was here for someone else. Sweet Sana, who had been on the receiving end of your envy for years now, based on the fact that she was Yuta’s dream girl and not you. The envy is always accompanied by guilt, because Sana is nothing but kind and selfless, the shoulder you had been leaning on for years now ever since Yuta dedicated himself to his career. You watch as she rounds the tables and picks up dirty dishes, a smile adorning her lips despite the tedious task. An angel. She must be. “You just showed up and demanded to be fed. Not a single please and thank you, you spoilt brat. Aren’t you ever getting sick of takoyaki?”

“I could never.” Your best friend seems disturbed by the thought. If Yuta was ever served a death sentence for having killer looks, you’d bet a thousand dollars he would still choose Takoyaki as his last meal on death row. To look that good should be illegal. And it should also be illegal to steal your breath every time you guys meet gazes. There’s so much warmth in his eyes, reserved only for you - it’s a look that not everyone can be grazed with, not to those who haven’t known his entire being by heart. But never will you find the romance you crave in them, and that thought pushes you to look away every time.

You swallow down the pain and force yourself to keep a neutral face. “I’m putting you on a diet, if that’s the way you’re gonna act when I serve you your favorite food. Stop staring at her already, creep, you’re scaring her.”

Yuta sighs, long and heavy. Dramatic. He’s always been open with his crushes. “But she’s sooo pretty,” he pouts then, resting his head in the palm of his hand to look at Sana more comfortably. Right when both of you look at her, she turns to where you guys are sitting and waves, a cute little blush exploding on her cheeks. Very relatable. There’s not a single girl who is immune to your best friend’s charm. Yuta immediately springs into action to wave back, and you try to ignore the way his excited grin makes your chest hurt. “See? She’s not even doing anything and I’m still falling even harder!”

Yeah, that feeling seems familiar. The only difference is who you associate it with.

— ❅ —

Falling in love is so easy. Too easy, considering the fact that it can take years for your heart to recover and even then, the person never leaves your heart fully. You have wasted many years trying to get over Nakamoto Yuta, but your heart refuses to do so; the farest you ever get is closing the door on him, but you can never quite get yourself to lock it. The keys are always in his hands, impossible to tear away. Some people just aren’t meant to leave.

You’ve learned too many lessons from Yuta for you to ever forgot about him. You will never be able to not associate warm summer nights with him, will never forget the way he runs off the soccer field straight in your arms and whirl you around after a particularly good game. The first person to ever teach you how to cut off people that cause more harm than peace, who showed you how a proper friend should treat you. A first kiss, though left undiscussed. The many nights spent cramming in information before an important exam, getting drunk together and letting your hands wander because you trust each other. It’s all Yuta, and it always has been. You look for him in other people, in hopes of moving on but also easing the pain in your heart that is solely caused by the boy with the chubby cheeks.

Your eyes search for him everywhere.

Sadly, you even find the boy in Sana’s eyes. Her eyes emit warmth, a home inside a soul. You met Sana in highschool and love her the way you should’ve loved Yuta - she’s family, a sister, a best friend. She knows secrets you never even dared to think about in front of Yuta and treats them like treasures, a pirate taking his precious things to the grave. Trust is like gold to Minatozaki Sana, and the fact that you willingly give her your entire world is the greatest gift you could’ve ever given her. You can’t hate someone who is a part of you - Sana is you as much as you are her, one soul in two bodies. It’s a pity you got the half that Yuta would never desire.

Her fingertips are coarse; so unusual for the girl who looks like the definition of soft. At the end of every shift, you guys take turns massaging sore spots in your shoulders since both of you are too broke to pay for a professional massage inside a salon. You make do with what you have, at ten in the evening. There’s too many chores that are still unfinished, but the laziness is more powerful than your sense of duty. Whatever. Your manager has never complained about you staying longer to clean, so there’s no rush.

“You’re tenser than ever.” Sana sighs over the groan you let out when she hits a painful spot, her thumbs digging in to erase the knot she found. For someone who claims to possess no strength, her grip is pretty hard. “Have you been sleeping properly? You know I told you to stop pulling so many all-nighters... It’s not helping you.”

“I’m aware, mom. But my college degree isn’t earning itself.”

“Oh, shut up.” Her apron hits the empty barstool beside you before she moves to grab a rag to start wiping the counter. The artificial light usually creates an unpleasant ambiance, but it looks like moonlight when it hits Sana’s skin. So surreal, out of this world. The gods must have shaped her, there’s no other explanation. A perfect fit for Yuta. For a second, you contemplate how you managed to befriend the most precious people in the entire world. She rips you out off your train of thought, though. “Your grades are fine. You’re just throwing a hissy fit. Here’s a deal, either you start sleeping on time or I knock you out. How’s that sound?”

“Very pleasant,” you deadpan, and that’s the end of the discussion. She pinches your waist before moving along to put the chairs on the table. It’s always quiet in the evening, especially in this corner of the city. Every night at the same time, an old couple passes the window and waves at you, like the precious members of society they are. There’s a distinct routine that Sana and you established over the years, and you fall into it on instinct. The clean-up is quick as always. The bell on the door signals the end of your shift, and you step out into the cold night as Sana turns the key in its’ lock.

You guys are like two peas in a pond, to the point where traditions and habits have been assimilated together. It has now become a reflex to know what to do in any situation - while anyone else panics at your tears, Sana grabs a bottle of wine and a good movie. When the world turns blurry and the stress is the only thing Sana can see, you’re the first one to cook some spicy food and watch as she eats it, just to catch that special, grateful smile. Cogs working in clockwork. A perfect fit.

“How are things going with Taeyong?” Sana sounds neutral, but the cheeky undertone in her voice is evident to you. You know her better. “Drop it,” is the immediate answer you shoot back. Her laughter rings in your ears like a melody. You wish you would be able to dislike it.

“Hey, I just asked you a simple question. Is that forbidden too, now?”

“Yes. You’re not even allowed to say the T in Taeyong. Move along now, I want to go home and get some food in my stomach.”

Sana hums. “I heard Taeyong is a pretty great cook, too. Did you know that?”

You don’t answer her. Taeyong is nothing like the man that is truly inside your heart, and yet there’s no possible way to deny him. You’ve once told him over a bottle of whiskey about the feelings you harbor for his fellow band member, and yet he doesn’t let that deter him from his conquest of your heart. Taeyong knows unspoken secrets that neither Yuto nor Sana are even aware of, and that thought is strange to you. Taeyong isn’t connected to you like he is to Yuta. It’s barely been a year since you’ve properly gotten to know him. And yet, he coaxes things out of you that you wouldn’t even admit in your wildest dreams.

Lee Taeyong is dangerous. Point, blank, period. Still, you let him court you because he doesn’t mind the constant reminder that your heart belongs to Yuta. It even hurts to tell him that, because Taeyong has one of the most beautiful smiles you’ve ever seen. His heart is yours to take, even though you don’t want it. Just looking suffices, though. You threw one look inside and have yet to tear your eyes away, locked into a spell. Like looking at a car crash.

He claims that look is enough for him to keep trying. To you, it’s just torture for an innocent man who could have everyone if he wanted. Girls who are kinder, more selfless. Selfless enough to finally move on from a childhood crush and give him all he craves.

“Hello? Earth to (y/n)?” Your blonde companion waves a manicured hand infront of your face. “I didn’t mean to step on a landmine. I’m sorry, okay?”

The sigh you heave out is more alarming than intended. Meeting Sana’s eyes, you already know she’s got you figured out. Lying is useless now. “There’s no reason to be sorry,” you mumble, but it sounds half-hearted. “I just feel guilty about Taeyong. You know, since it’s unrequited and all.”

“I’m telling you, you’re missing out. I get that you want to focus on finishing college, but that boy could be heaven for you. I wish a boy would look at me like that. You deserve the world, (y/n).”

If only she knew.

Your shared apartment is freezing. Sana hurries to turn on the heater, while you finally get rid of jacket and work clothes. The walk to your room is quiet, accompanied only by the sound of Sana’s playlist starting to quietly reverbate through the apartment. Every nook and cranny is filled with a reminiscent thought, a story that only the owners of this apartments can recall. Despite your awkward predicament, you’ve always been thankful to have Sana.

Life is so much better with friends, especially those who see your entire being and decide to love it. No matter what comes with it, no matter how many disputes. It’s been a rocky road, but Sana and you have moved mountains to honor your friendship. You wouldn’t give her up for anything in the world. Especially not for a boy.

To your luck, you fall asleep just in time before Sana can scold you. Atleast in your dreams, everything is perfect.

— ❅ —

Though you claim that Taeyong is dangerous, you’ve always been someone who likes to play with fire. He looks like an artist’s dream-come-true, with sharp edges and soft doe eyes. Not even the dye in his hair can jarr the perfect image he creates, though he claims you’re just trying to make him blush by saying that. Your eyes may be locked on another man, but you’re not blind. Taeyong is as pretty as they come, with the kindest heart you’ve ever seen.

Since you reject an invitation to coffee and cake because you need to study, Taeyong climbs the many scary stairs up your fire escape so he can tumble through your open window. Accompanying his sweet grin is a bag of macarons and other pastries, which makes your stomach grumble embarrassingly loud.

“I thought you weren’t hungry.” Taeyong sets down the paperbag on your biology book, before he settles in the chair beside you and curiously peeks at your notes. You asked him once if he ever wanted to attend college, and he said that he had considered. He’s too in love with being an idol, though. It’s an attribute that connects him to Yuta - their ambition for the stage. Your best friend gave up soccer for it. You wonder what Taeyong has left behind to perform for the world.

You open your mouth to answer, but your stomach interrupts you again - now the blush settles on your cheeks, the very thing Taeyong had waited for. He laughs as you grab the paperpag, murmuring a “I’m not hungry” before stuffing your mouth with a lemon macaron. Normally, you’d offer him the other half, but it seems like you’re starving. “I thought I told you to rest today,” you say instead, eyes raking over his face. His hair is tinted red and white, like blood on snow. Beauty in controversy. “Since, you know, you’re like the most popular idol in the game right now and everything is pretty busy as it is.”

“Did you really think I’d miss the chance of finally being home alone with you?” Taeyong throws your legs over his lap and leans back - shirt riding up to reveal his defined tummy - and you avert your eyes. He’s already being tortured, you don’t have to make it worse by thirsting after him. But his statement opens up a gaping hole inside your stomach, so unsettling that your heart starts to clench. “He told you?” you ask dumbly. Of course Yuta had. Who hadn’t he told of the happiest moment in life, right after being accepted into SM? After months of pining, Yuta had finally been able to score a date with the Minatozaki Sana. Now the apartment lays empty, like a hollow tomb. For your dead heart, maybe. You realize that you’re being melodramatic, but it’s the only thing cheering you up right now and you have no wit left to make up for it.

Sana had accomplished what you never did. In a few weeks, those dates will evolve into a relationship, and it’ll finally be your turn to vomit out the cold limoncelli that burned the back of Yuta’s throat. It’s a tradition to down it after a heartbreak, one you guys kept up long after highschool. For the first time in ever, it’s going to be Yuta’s fault you’re drinking it. An Irish Wake for the girl who got away.

She had locked sickening in that dress. You sent Sana off with one of the most hurtful smiles you had ever been forced to put on, before all your tears ruined the sociology notes of today’s class.

You stuff your mouth with another macaron. “I should’ve known he’d tell the entire world,” you sighed. A warm hand covers your thigh in comfort, but it’s useless. A band-aid can’t help with a wound that’s located on the inside. “You know, Taeyong, maybe I’ll just change my name and move to Hawaii. I’d be a lot happier on Hawaii. Is there any way for me to like, legally get rid of my identity and disappear under mysterious circumstances?”

You hate the look of pity inside his eyes. It makes you lower you own gaze, reminds you of the sea of pain that you’re drowning in. It’s hard to stay afloat. You don’t need anybody to make it harder. “We could start with some mimosas, first,” Taeyong gently says. The gentleness banishes any kind of annoyance that had developed under his pitiful gaze, and he lets you climb into his lap, hides you away from the world in his embrace. Until you are ready to face it, ready to return to reality. The one where you’re an unaffected roommate who’s simply happy for their friends. “But I feel like I’ve barged in on enough Yuta-(y/n) traditions. So how about we grab some food?”

“I told you I have to study, Tae.”

“Bullshit. I think I’ve been watching you stare into the air for about five minutes before I even came in, you loser. Admit it, I’m doing you a favor.”

The punch you deliver to his chest does nothing to quiet down his little giggles. “You suck,” you growl as an answer, but stand up nonetheless to change into something more presentable. Taeyong respectfully turns away while you do, humming a melody under his breath. The pants you put on are only pulled over your hips before you halt in motion and watch in awe as the sun casts shadows over Taeyong’s face; his face contorting into art as his cat-like eyes slip closed. For some strange reason, Yuta’s words come to mind; about how photographers always gush at the leader’s photogenic features.

For a second, you ponder over this reality. The reality in which you stop clinging to a lover long lost and face a new one, something that could be good and healthy for you. As easy as breathing. It would be like spring, the end of an era, getting rid of the chains that held you back. You only have to accept him. Almost in trance, you take a step forwards, toward Taeyong and that warm reality - just to get a closer look at the artwork - before those chains rattle again. You’re a fool to think that you’d ever be able to discard of them. The freezing metal rips you out of Taeyong’s summer dream, back into the room that is filled to the brim with Yuta’s memories.

It’s far too late for you now. Silently, you finish changing and tap Taeyong’s shoulder as a signal that you’re ready to go. His smile hurts to look at, and he doesn’t even wait for permission before he interlocks your fingers and pulls you along. You wonder how he deals with the pain of rejection. It looks like nothing on him, but you feel like you’ve been poisoned, slowly rotting away. The guilt seems to crush you a little bit more now that you’ve got a taste of Taeyong’s experiences. “Wait,” you say, voice tiny. Feet skidding to a halt. Taeyong’s curiosity is as innocent as ever, and you feel bad for how hard it must be for him to look at you and know you’re never going to be his. “Tae, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I can’t be the one you want me to be... I....”

“Stop.” Taeyong’s voice is strangely calm. It soothes your many worries, enough for you to quiet down. He raises his hand as if to cup your face, but decides against it - dropping it again to cover both of your hands. Smile never leaving his lips. “(y/n), I knew what I was getting into. It’s me who’s selfishly accepting every slither of affection you even grant me.”

“But am I not hurting you?”

“Sweetheart.” Taeyong laughs, as if you had said something funny. His thumb traces your knuckles, once, twice, a habit that he picked up from you. This time, he confidently tugs a strand of hair behind your ear, still giggling when he speaks again. “We all suffer for love. How could I ever judge you when your pain is essentially mine?”

You think you understand. If you imagine the pain to be a heavy bundle, it’s easier to carry it together. In awe at his strength, you let your gaze wander over Taeyong’s face again as he starts blabbering about a new K-BBQ place he’s been wanting to visit. When you catch the train, you finally feel like the poison’s slowing down. It hasn’t spread through your entire body yet.

As always, Taeyong is the remedy to all your problems.

Sadly, he can’t protect you from the awful sight Sana and Yuta offer when you find them tucked in the booth of a restaurant you used to frequent with Yuta. It would’ve been too much to be happy for one afternoon atleast. Despite standing outside the glass windows, you can hear Sana’s melodious laughter in your mind when she dips her head down to quieten the soft sound; golden curls flying with every shake of her head. Your best friend is beaming at her, drink in hand long forgotten, and you tear your eyes away from the scene before your broken heart starts piercing your lungs.

If only you had recognized the citrine liquor sloshing against Yuta’s glass, for you would have noticed something was definitely going wrong. You don’t take notice of his drink, instead quickening your speed and forcing Taeyong to keep up with you. When you start rambling, your companion says nothing, opting to shoot back his own anecdotes to take off your mind of the thing that is evidently bothering you. For the entire evening, he doesn’t let go of your hand once, and you return home with your belly stuffed with delicious dinner and your heart patched up by your new favorite member of NCT.

— ❅ —

You pass your exams with flying colors.

The pride that fills you when you see the grade on the piece of paper almost makes it worth all the things you’ve endured the past few weeks, even though it had been increasingly difficult to keep up. Silently, you watched your pretty roommate leave your shared home more times when you would have liked to count, while you remained stuck inside your stuffy room. The only escape you had for a while were the fire escape outside your window(which had been making you nauseaous the first few times you sat on it, but Taeyong had insisted it was fine) and work, where Yuta only came to blab about his idol life or test your culinary skills. You never ask him about Sana, and he never spills. His quiet support during exam season was the only reason you could handle Sana’s nightly meets, and you clung to the few moments where you could call Yuta yours.

There had once been a time in highschool where studying had been much more fun. Every correct answer had earned you another piece of candy, which became so addicting that Yuta and you upped the stacks by making the other treat them to dinner if they had more correct answes by the end of the free period. What started as school work evolved into a competition, which in turn had led to your first kiss under the lights of Seoul’s summer festival, the roar of passerbys and the loud music booming through the streets accompanying that precious memory. You had been glad, so glad it was Yuta who had stolen away that first experience, because you know for a fact he would never waste it. You had bet him a ticket of the ferris wheel, since it was terribly expensive and pocket money was barely cutting it for you. Not only had he purchased the ticket, but also won you the biggest teddybear on the market. You couldn’t remember what instilled it, but seconds after the plushie was placed into your hands, Yuta had cradled your face and kissed you like his life depended on it.

Your first kiss was magical. The sweet taste of cherries and the unimaginable trace of love that Yuta had left on your tongue had made you feel alive, as if for the first time in your life, your heart finally started to beat. The blood rushing through yours veins was powered by fireworks and adoration for one single boy, the sweet boy who taught you how to ride your bike without your training wheels, made you cook takoyaki atleast twice a week, and bothered to create silly traditions and inside jokes like limoncelli or Hello Kitty band-aids, placed over Yuta’s nose after he got a soccer ball to the face.

That summer had been the summer Yuta was accepted into SM. You had never talked about the kiss again. But what a vivid memory it was! Like your personal, handmade movie, your own living piece of magic. You had never imagined love to be so powerful. But you understand it now, as you look into Yuta’s eyes and realize that all you had ever wanted for him in life was for him to be happy. And he was.

That was enough. The pain, the endurance, you’d do it all again. For Nakamoto Yuta, who reached for your hand and never had let go. Not for soccer, not for the industry, not even for the many people he had dated in the past. That must be worth something.

“You’ve been looking at me weirdly all day.” Yuta scrunches his nose in fake disgust, but his eyes are still crinkled from the pleasant smile that curved around his plush lips. His mom always says that he looks like a fox; it had been his halloween costume three years in a row. Right now, he looks just like that. Coy and dangerous and in the wait. “You trying to pick a fight or what? Because I’ve got all day, and a little wrestling never hurt anybody.”

“So what, I’m not even allowed to watch now?”

Yuta winks before you realize the extent of your words. Cringing, you turn away, but not before seeing the laughter burst out of him, the sound addicting as always. “Don’t get weird with me now, Nakamoto,” you warn him, sliding off your soft bed to close the window. The cool wind was enjoyable, but it kept messing up your many exercise sheets that still needed to be sorted out before september came. Next time around this year, you’ll finally have finished your degree and would return to a proper working life. What an adventure that would be. “Are you planning to camp in here for the rest of your life or are you going to leave eventually? Because I actually got plans and I’m not afraid of kicking you out.”

It was already strange to you that Yuta was sitting here, and not in the living room with Sana. To your knowledge, they were still dating, and the reminder still stung. But no, your childhood best friend remains seated where he is, wrapped in your favorite blanket that you bought on a family trip to Osaka. Another memory that ties him to this place. Your parents had offered to surprise him since you guys were always seperated during summer vacation, and they had always wanted to go to Japan. You learned how to fish there. Weirdly, you kinda miss sitting on the cold river banks while your father tries to explain how to properly kill a fish.

Yuta clutches his chest in faux pain, dramatic as always. “So mean,” he whines. “Here I am making time for my best friend in the entire world, and it is not even appreciated. I’m kicked out, even! Tell me, what has happened to justice? Is it not first come, first serve anymore?”

“First of all - I’m your only best friend.”

“That doesn’t matter.” He nonchalantly waves you off, like someone would an annoying fly. “I still love you the most out of all of my friends, so it’s different. Pick up a book once in a while, (y/n).”

You try to shake off the pain that one single word had incurred in you, but it’s so unbearable. It makes you want to scream. Your life would be so much easier if Yuta truly loved you and you’d be able to tell him aeons worth of confessions, of how you found heaven in his soul and salvation is his heart. It sits on the tip of your tongue, a heavy burden to carry for someone who’s as frail of you, but you only tell him: “It is first come, first serve. Taeyong has been planning to take me out after my exams for a while now, while you were out being lovey-dovey with a certain roommate.” You raise an eyebrow at his awkward expression. A fox in the trap. “So much for loving me most, oh best friend.”

On any other circumstance, he would’ve jumped at the opportunity to argue. Yuta is very clingy, and very affectionate. You’ve seen his band members on the receiving end of it, and are glad that they atleast don’t suffer his temper tantrums whenever someone challenges the position of ‘best friend’. Today though, he nitpicks: “You have plans with Taeyong?”

You blink. “Yeah, I guess. I told you we guys got closer in the past few months.”

Yuta’s hand feels more heavier in yours than Taeyong’s did. He pulls you onto the bed again, hands latching to your waist to hold you close, treating you like a personal teddybear. It doesn’t take long before your back is pressed against his chest while he rests his head on your shoulder. “How close, exactly?” he grumbles, childish annoyance peaking through his voice. “You’re not giving him all my Hello Kitty band-aids, are you?”

“Are you accusing me of treason?”

“Maybe so.”

You try to escape his death grip, but ultimately fail. God damn those muscles. “Get out of my room, traitor. I would never ever give away the holy Hello Kitty band-aids.”

“Hmm.” Yuta loosens his hold, and you suck in the breath you so desperately needed. Do you look like a ragdoll or what? “I suppose it’s alright then. When are you getting back?”

“Who are you, my father?” You smack his thigh in retaliation for him caging you in, but your friend only laughs it off. A pinch to your waist makes you jump away from him. “Since when do I need permission from you to come and go?” you complain then. Never once had Yuta been so protective because of a boy than now. It made you wonder what was going on with him. He only shrugs, not offering a explanation. With a last grin, he falls back into the mattress and crosses his arms behind his head, as if the room belonged to him. Ass. “Be back before twelve,” the man only hums.

When you leave Yuta in your room(although with a heavy heart, since you’re sure he’ll join Sana in the living room after you leave), he offers you his cheek as a goodbye. You freeze in place, since this is the first time since sixth grade you sent him off with a kiss to the cheek. Nonetheless, you bow down to do him the favor, his warm hand keeping you in place for a few moments longer, before he lets go of your waist and gifts you a smile that seems rather melancholic. You almost stay.

Almost. You’d rather choke than watch him lock lips with your only female best friend.

“What are you doing on saturday?” Taeyong asks you after offering you a bottle of soju, abandoning your side to place the fluffy picnic blanket over the grass. Han River glistens golden in the light of the sun, a honeyed mirror of the world. It’s almost tragic that life is so heartstrickenly beautiful, no matter what the circumstances are. You suppose that’s what makes it so beautiful. A few moments later, Taeyong has tugged you down so he can rest his head in your lap. With a happy sigh, he closes his eyes and soaks in the last warmth the day has to offer, as always ressembling a statue.

“Nothing, I think,” you tell him. The soju is sweet, easy on the throat. A stark contrast to the Yuta-(y/n) tradition. You don’t have the heart to tell Taeyong that the festival starts on friday, since it’s evident that Yuta is going to take Sana and not you. The magic spell from that fairy-tale kiss had long worn off. This is the real world. “Not until now, since you’re taking me out, I’m deducing?”

“Absolutely correct. No wonder you passed your exams, you’re so clever!”

“I feel belittled.”

Taeyong laughs. The sound rumbles through his chest, as harmonious as the lyrical verses he creates and incorperates into songs. “It wasn’t meant to be,” he promises, hand reaching for your own. His fingertips are cold from the bottle he had held for you until you reached the riverbank. “I’m very proud of you for passing your exams. You did exceptionally well, even though I mothered you so much.”

“Thank you.” Your answer was demure, but it came from the bottom of your heart. Taeyong had been an important emotional crutch, and he had even fulfilled your promise of seeing someone else so he could move on from you. Even though he does, he vows to be a friend for life like Yuta is. It’s so different from the Osaka prince, but Taeyong has truely gotten to the point where he became vital for you, in another way than Yuta is, but how Yuta should have been. He hasn’t told you the name of the secret lady, though. “You think I’ll get my degree?”

“A hundred percent.” A tight squeeze is reassurance enough for you, and Taeyong’s face contorts into a happy grimace when you squish his cheeks. “Thank you,” you say again. “You’re the best friend in the entire world, Taeyong. Really. I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

“If you want me to live, never say this in front of Yuta.”

“Sure thing.”

You’re not the only people bathing in the evening light, as the riverbank is crowded with families and friends all alike. Their joyous laughter takes you to a time where breathing had been a little easier, a little freer. Where your heartbeat didn’t resonate through broken shards. You’ve come to realize, though, that you wouldn’t trade it for anything else in the world.

Not if it meant Yuta.

— ❅ —

[08:26pm] yuta-chan ♡: do you think you could meet me at 9 at the ferris wheel? i have to leave for japan after that.

[08:29pm] (y/n): so that little cuddle fest in the kitchen today didn’t mean goodbye already?

[08:29pm] (y/n): that was embarrassing to do in front of taeyong, by the way.

[08:30pm] yuta-chan ♡: he can handle a little pda. i came first, you know.

[08:31pm] (y/n): i don’t think i’ll be able to make it, yuta. i’m out with taeyong.

[08:31pm] yuta-chan ♡: boo, you whore.

[08:31pm] yuta-chan ♡: can you please atleast try? for me?

[08:32pm] (y/n): yuta... ✓

[08:32pm] (y/n): are you serious? you lose service now?? ✓

calling yuta-chan ♡...

[08:34pm] (y/n): yuta, i cant just leave ty!! pls come back online 😭. ✓

Sighing loudly, you slam your forehead down onto your phone. The line infront of you was getting shorter and shorter, and the tickets to your movie were already purchased. What was so damn important for Yuta to want you to meet him at nine? Even if you went now, you don’t think you could be there on time. Taeyong watches curiously as you pound more messages into the device, only for you to whine since they aren’t getting through. “For God’s sake! I’m gonna kill him!”

“What did Yuta do now?” Taeyong sounds way too amused for your own liking.

Angrily, you try to call your best friend again, but to no avail. Apparently, Yuta had chucked his phone away after ominously telling you to meet him at the festival. That stupid festival, and the stupid emotional value it came with for you. “He wants me to meet him at the ferris wheel in twenty minutes!” you shout then, exasperated. The loud volume of your despair brings you a few nasty glances from the people standing in queue, but you cannot bring yourself to care right now. “And he knows exactly I’m out with you right now. I can’t just drop everything and go just because he wants me to! He didn’t even tell me why!”

“Just go, (y/n).” Taeyong pinches your cheek. The gesture would have been adorable if you weren’t so annoyed right now. “It’s just a movie, and we can just rewatch it - I’ll just call someone else.”

“No, I don’t want to.” You stuff your phone back into your pocket. You can’t come back running to Yuta, just because you love him. Being at his beck and call will just ruin you, as it always has over the many years you had been spent motionless at his side, too cowardly to step forward. The allure of velleity stops here. You have to break free of your curse now, or you’ll never be able to. “I’m sure it’s fine. I bet he just wants help with Sana or something, it’s not like he can’t do it on his own. He’s a grown man.”

“(y/n), it’s not about Sana.” Taeyong’s eyes turn serious now, shaking at your resolutement. “I think you should go.”

“Trust me, Tae, I know him. He’s just panicking because he has to leave Sana behind for a few months because he’s never dated someone over long distance, even though it’s not forever. I’m going to finally move on and accept that Yuta and I are never going to be.”

“He’s not dating Sana, (y/n)!” You squeak when Taeyoung abruptly turns to you to shake your shoulders, so unusual for the calm man he usually is. Your second mom, as you lovingly called him. “I am. They stopped dating a long time ago because Yuta explained he wasn’t into her, he was into you. He was trying to move on and failed! Do you understand, (y/n)? Nakamoto Yuta is in love with you!”

You gape at Taeyong like a fish out of water. For a few seconds, which feel like centuries, you’re so speechless you forget the urgency of the situation. Your brain can’t register everything at once, despite the fact that you just received the biggest news of your life, so it latches on to the most logical one at hand. “You’re dating Sana?” you repeat in utter shock, rumbled to the core. “When the hell were you planning to tell me?”

“I’d love to tell you more about my secret romance but I’m afraid if you stand here any longer, you’re going to miss out on your last chance to ever confess your feelings to Yuta ever again!”

The veil drops. In a matter of seconds, nothing in this world made sense but Yuta, because why wouldn’t it? Your best friend, the love of your life - suddenly growing overprotective and so hellbent on PDA, the long, sad gazes that seemed to trail after you that you had interpreted as pouting because you were neglecting your friendship. All of it falls into place, and awakens one instinct that has been buried deep inside you for years now, unused and unpolished ever since Yuta left the soccerfields behind.

Whenever the team had won, it was a race about who could tackle Yuta first. Yuta, the star player, dubbed score god by his teammates as he keeps carrying them to the win. You had learnt pretty quickly to leave your friends behind in the dust just to reach him in time, to fall in the arms that had always been waiting for you and you only. You barely remember the few occassions where Johnny had in fact been faster than you were, just for Yuta to avoid him so he could embrace you and whirl you through the air like some kind of doll. The sound of victory, the heavy pattering of a heart that is so familiar that you that it seems like your own. Now, it comes back to life - you barely remember placing the ticket into Taeyong’s hands as you stumble around and push past all the people, in direction of the main festivities. Your legs are light, lighter than the wind and the air as you run like you were running for your life, heartbeat hammering in your ears. Was it your own, or Yuta’s, the melody that has been accompanying all your life? No time to wonder as you pick up speed and pray, pray for any god willing to listen for Yuta to wait.

How could you be so silly and let him leave before telling you goodbye at the ferris wheel? Was it not another one of your silly traditions, like that disgusting alcohol and the awful takoyaki you had made in the first weeks of learning how to cook? The sweaty jerseys that were always exchanged to show your support at his games? The whispered promises, the untold ones, was it not always there? You feel blind, so blind - and so stupid! How could you not have noticed the ways Yuta’s gaze had stopped trailing after your roommate? Was it not you who left him in that bedroom and never saw him join Sana in the living room, crawling into the bed beside him when you returned like he hadn’t ever moved? Was it not you who had taken up all his time?

The festival is as stuffy as ever, as well-visited as ever. It is 09:08pm and you fear for your life, for your heart, because it’s with Nakamoto Yuta and he is about to leave with it forever. You fall onto your face a few times and scrape your knees bloodly, but you keep walking, praying.

No one familiar is standing in front of the ferris wheel.

This must be karma. It truly is, fate paying you back just in time for you to cripple in metaphoric debt. For years, you had prided yourself with knowing Yuta best, your favorite book, one you’d read for the rest of your life. Now, when you finally break out from the spot you were frozen in, it is already too late.

Atleast that’s what you think for ten long seconds.

There’s a warm hand who pulls you back, the hand that has been guiding you all your life. Late-night walks back home, your first time in Osaka. Han River’s riverbank and the streets of the city when the festival lights lit everything up. Yuta’s beaming smile goes straight to your heavy heart, and it soars in happiness as he hugs you and whispers: “You came back for me!”

“I did, you big idiot!” Without second thought, you jump into his embrace and throw both arms around his shoulders. You are right where you’re supposed to be. You’re home, you’re home, you’re home. While the salty tears of relief blur up your sight of the buzzing marketplace around you, loud, sincere laughter pearls from your lips. It’s a hymn of joy, your unofficial serenade to the man of your dreams. “I’m so sorry I didn’t come sooner.”

“It doesn’t matter. You’re here.” Yuta pulls back to cradle your face, something he had never done so carefully except that one time, almost seven years ago. “You’re here with me,” he says then, almost in disbelief. There’s a moment of silence where the magic of your teenage days returns, spell-bound, and just a second later, Yuta’s warm body finally crashes against yours as familiar lips cover your own. Of course he tastes like limoncelli, but below that, he tastes of precious memories and secret thoughts, the silent adoration that was never one-sided. His fingers trace your jawline while you tousle his hair, both mapping out each other as you imprint it into memory.

You are unconditionally, irrevoceably in love with Nakamoto Yuta. You tell him that when he finally lets go of you, and he repeats it back, as many times as he can. Confessions and explanations are exchanged, but nothing really matters except the fact that you managed to jump back in time and finally fulfill your chance. You finally made your move.

“I don’t think I can let you go to Japan yet,” you tell him then, several minutes later, while you stand in line to the ferris wheel, even though he should be long gone by now. There’s a flight to Tokyo going in two hours, and yet he’s still here. Clinging to your hand like you’re going to disappear if he looks away. Love-stricken eyes that make your knees go weak. “You owe me some explanations.”

Yuta pulls you closer with the arm he keeps hooked around your waist, bright smile never leaving his lips. “We’ll have plenty of time up there to spill,” he responds and kisses the tip of your nose. He smells like home. Like forever and beyond. “I love you. I’ll give you the rest of my life in exchange for just one evening with you.”

No, one evening wasn’t enough. You’d give Yuta eternity in exchange for his heart, but let’s just start with today. In celebration of being inclined to move. For two hearts who were lost at sea, meeting again after what they thought would be never ever. He’s definitely going to miss that flight, though.

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canyouhearthelight · 4 years

Text

The Miys, Ch. 108

And we are somewhat caught up! My queue has run out at least, and I’m astoundingly glad it has, because now I get to thank a bunch of people who have just detonated my inbox with love, and kept me going.

Before I get into the gratitude: If, at any point, a comment a character makes does not make sense, please let me know. Send an ask, even on anon, because I am well aware that everything in my brain does not get a chance to make it in the story (example: Charly’s triangle comment here, and the fact that Noah’s dialogue in the beginning has an actual translation…)

First, shoutouts to @charlylimph-blog, @baelpenrose, and @quantumizedinsanity for the characters in this chapter and for being very, VERY dear friends to me. A global pandemic and nationwide protests, along with a job change and a major move, have done nothing to hurt friendships that are already cross-country from each other.

Annnnd to everyone who has been blowing up my notes with likes and reblogs: @dierotenixe(hang in there! i PROMISE!), @iamverypotato,@itscryptifssil, @steadynightninja, @thepalemarcher, @feral-possums-in-the-bog, @26fancyraptors(MISSED YOU!), @werewolf2578 (we don’t talk enough, how are you!?), @experimentalspades, @odd-dream-worlds, @duchess-katala03, @pineapplewitchboi, @dark-choclat-cupcake, @littleshydragon, and all the others.

I held my breath, bracing for what I knew was coming. Nothing came after several minutes, to my surprise. I slowly lifted my head and opened my eyes, focusing on drawing deep, even breaths. Maybe he got bored and wandered off. Maybe he had mercy on me….

Yeah. And maybe Grey is making genetically modified fish that fly.

Slowly, carefully, I grabbed my fork and lifted a bite of pie to my mouth. A glance at Charly showed a serious expression, nothing given away. Damnit. I knew she could see Arthur behind me, I was hoping for a telltale giggle, or a warning glance, something. Right when a traitorous voice of reason spoke up belatedly to point out that Charly was never serious…

“You really will adopt anyone, won’t you?” Arthur asked as he came around to take the chair Jokul had just vacated.

Fuuuuuck…. Busted. “I didn’t adopt him!” I tried to argue. “I actually made a very concerted effort to avoid that!”

Unceremoniously, he snagged Charly’s pot pie, only to have his hand held at fork-point until he let go. Without even acknowledging the lunch-standoff, he leaned back in the chair and crossed his arms. “You tried to ‘avoid’ it by foisting him off on Zach Khan, your… nephew, thing, and his girlfriend. Still adoption-adjacent.”

“Doesn’t mean I have to interact with him.”

“Uh huh. And how will you explain to poor Hannah that dear Ivan’s partner isn’t invited to Insert Winter Holiday dinner, hmmm?”

“I hate you.”

“Lies and deceit,” he rebutted calmly. “You adopted me first. Before anyyyyone on this ship. I daresay you’re quite fond of me.”

I scowled at him, shoving my remaining lunch in his direction. “Here, before you start poaching this direction.”

An eyebrow arched in the general direction of my fish pie. “That looks suspiciously like dairy. You wound me.” Grabbing my fork, he poked at the lumps of meat. “I would have thought you would be at least a little subtle in any assassination attempts. Have I taught you nothing?”

“Of course you taught me something,” I cooed, jokingly, while I patted his arm. “The fastest way to a man’s heart is six inches of steel through the ribs, slight upward angle. Cyanide smells like bitter almonds, so always use shortbread cookies to administer it. Three pounds of pressure will tear off a human ear, and even a three year old can bite through fingers,” I recited. “Also, the pie is dairy-free, surprisingly. The ‘cream’ is silken tofu and aquafaba, turns out.”

Charly was choking with laughter, while Arthur finally smiled at me. “See, I told you that you love me,” he gloated before scooping up a scallop and some crust. As soon as he started chewing, his expression changed from one of amusement to something strikingly similar to Mac when I flick water in his face.

“Scallops,” I explained. “I had the same reaction.”

“Heathens,” he managed around the mouthful. After he swallowed it, he gave the dish a considering look. “Not bad per se, but… There is no fish in this fish pie. What is aquafaba?”

“Chicpea juice. Usually it’s used as an egg substitute. I guess they used it for consistency here.”

Charly leaned forward, narrowly avoiding landing an elbow in her lunch. “And how can you tell that’s what’s in there?”

Glancing over at his student, Arthur shrugged. “She has a point. This,” he poked at the sauce, “looks like heavy cream.”

“Tastes kind of nutty, though,” I explained. “Anyway, enough about food. What brings you down here?”

“Galactic Core Curriculum,” he explained. “That’s the excuse anyway. Alistair - Cthulu damn his soul - told me you were eating lunch here after fifteen minutes of questioning. Tyche told me Charly was with you, so I figured lunch with you, lunch with one of my favorite students, plus I can kill two errands with one meal.” Charly stared at him like he had lost his mind, but he ignored her. “When I arrived - lo! What to my wondering eyes should appear, than a certain former cult leader harassing said friend and student! What person could resist such a temptation.” Deflating dramatically, he scowled at me. “Imagine my delight to hear you giving him relationship advice,” he intoned flatly.

“I got him to go away,” I pointed out.

“Before I managed even one strike in a highly one-sided battle of wits.“

“Mr. Farro,” Charly cut off, glaring for all she was worth. “Jokull came in peace, he leaves in peace.”

“Oh, he would have left in pieces. His ego anyway.”

“Fucking triangles, I swear,” Charly muttered, attacking her lunch with renewed violence.

“Anyway,” I forged ahead. “Jokul was here for fifteen, twenty minutes. You had your chance.”

He glanced away with a cough. “I… may have been resisting the urge to vomit.”

“Arthur.”

“Relationship advice is… not in my skillset,” he admitted. “Tell you your partner is abusive? Can spot a mile a way. Great for getting people out of bad relationships, with concierge crowbar service if necessary. Not great for saving them.”

“Crowbar? Really?”

“You know, for prying people out of bad situations?” He genuinely looked confused, so I left that one alone.

“For what it’s worth, Jokull wanted to talk to you about what he’s going through right now,” Charly added.

“Why in any galaxy…”

I had to laugh at that one. “Everyone treats him poorly,” I shrugged before giving Arthur a pointed look. “He’s having a rough time right now, feels like he has no one to talk to except Ivan, and thought you would have some insight into that kind of thing.”

“What part of this,” he gestured to himself with a fork, “implies anything remotely close to wanting people to like me and therefore actually knowing how to accomplish that.”

“I’m not even going to dignify that with an answer,” I muttered.

Giving me a hard, thoughtful look, Arthur’s entire demeanor changed. “Ah… On a more serious note, though… yeah. I don’t get why people not liking you is a problem, but you’ve told me before it’s something that bothers you, so it’s feasible it bothers other people. I’ll make a point not to make it worse.”

Clearing my throat, I pushed the conversation on to the next topic. “You mentioned two errands earlier. One for me, one for Charly?”

“Right.” The relief to be changing topics was palpable. “For you, Councillor, Galactic Core is almost finished. Eino is already considering other ongoing-education programs, and you’re going to need to start scouting educators again. That late-twentieth through contemporary Terran history course? Big support-base, turns out.”

“You wouldn’t tell me this without a reason,” I pointed out. “And you’re a History teacher. Volunteering?”

“I want it done right,” he admitted. “The idea being bounced around isn’t for a requirement that everyone take the course. Not at the same time, anyway. History-focused educators only, approved curriculum.”

“Approved?” I asked. “By whom?”

“A committee,” he shrugged. “Eino, obviously. Xiomara, with her background - which, by the way, is ridiculous - “

“We know, we know,” Charly and I groaned.

After glancing between us for a moment, Arthur continued. “And me.”

“Why you?” I asked. “No offense, just trying to understand.”

“No offense taken, I’ll explain that part later, but I promise it’s for a legitimate reason. The point is, Eino and his committee approve the curriculum and number of slots. You and Tyche make the decisions for who is allotted where.”

“Fair point,” I conceded.

“Fine. The area of history I focused on for my Master’s degree has an important component that ties a lot together and makes revisionism harder - wait. What?” I could almost hear the gears squealing as they ground to a halt. “Did you just say yes?”

“Basically, yeah.”

“That was… disturbingly easy,” he gave me a skeptical look. When all I did was grin, he slowly turned to Charly. “As for you, I wanted to talk to you about the assignment that’s due next Friday.”

“I already turned it in,” she pointed out.

“Which is what I wanted to talk to you about. It’s a week and a half early.”

“Right….” she nodded slowly. “And I made sure it met all the criteria on the syllabus. Plus I had three different people proofread it.”

“All of which is admirable, and it would be considered a very well-done assignment,” he admitted. “If you didn’t have an extra week and a half left to make it even better.”

“Mr. Farro….”

“You aren’t in trouble, in any way shape or form,” he reassured her. “But I know you are capable of doing better than the assignment you already gave me. I wanted to offer you a deal.”

“What kind of deal?” Charly asked suspiciously. “This isn’t illegal, is it?”

“What? No…” he sputtered. “Illegal!?”

“Gotta be sure,” she nodded sincerely. I was reasonably certain she was giving him a hard time, but it was still hilarious to watch.

Shaking his head, Arthur did his best to recover. “The deal is this: if you stick with the assignment you already sent me, I’ll grade it as it stands. But. If you re-do it and hand it in on the original due date, you’ll be eligible for extra credit for your extra effort.”

“But I still get the grade on the one you already have, either way?” she asked skeptically.

“I’ve already graded it, and you won’t get a worse grade if you re-do it,” he promised.

“I’ll think about it,” she hedged carefully. “That paper was a lot of work.”

“That’s fair,” he nodded. “What if you sent me an audio recording, instead? No extra writing.”

“I can do that,” she agreed, sticking out her hand. After Arthur shook it, she glanced at the time. “Shit. I gotta go. Sophia, don’t be late back to work, okay? Tyche won’t care, but Alistair may stop letting me have extra marshmallows in my cocoa when I come by your office.”

After she left, I gave Arthur a very serious look. He tried to ignore it, but after about five solid minutes of The Squint, he caved. “For the love of… She’s smart, okay? You know, I know it. The paper she handed in a week and a half early was much more insightful than anyone else in the class. They were assigned a research paper on the underlying causes of the breakdown in relations between the Ekomari and Shalt-kri’i. Everyone focused on political ideologies, trade resources, navigational route control. Standard causes for war, from a Terran perspective. Do you know what Charly Harper wrote her paper about?”

“Food?” I asked, going out on a limb.

“So close! Cultural differences, plain and simple. Ekomari are vaguely mammalian, and their diet consists of native arthropods. Guess what Shalt-kri’i look like?”

“You’re kidding me…”

“Not even slightly. And! To add insult to injury, in a very close to literal sense, Shalt-kri’i greet each other as friends by spreading their appendages, a lot like a hug. Whereas Ekomari show aggression by… standing up on their hindmost appendages and spreading the rest to look bigger.”

“And no one caught this before?”

“Not on the Ark, no.” He spread his arms wide. “No one even considered it. Sure, the rest are good points, and they did make everything worse, more than likely, but the start? She nailed it.”

“Then why have her re-write the assignment?” I was honestly confused at this point.

“The way she wrote it, I could tell she wasn’t confident about the answer at all.” He looked about as frustrated as I had ever seen him. “You get her talking about engineering, or pranks, she knows she knows what she is talking about. I want her to know that she is just as right about this as she was about that.”

Hard to believe that this was the same man whose office I had marched into, out for a pound of flesh and the blood besides, because the same woman we were discussing left his class in tears and begged me not to make her go back. However…

“Honestly?” I ventured. “I want to hear this recording when she hands it in. I’m really curious about this.”

“You think she’ll write it?”

“Pfft,” I scoffed. “I know she will. You gave her a challenge where she can’t lose, but stands a lot to gain. I just hope you’re ready for that sound file.”

“I honestly can’t wait,” he smirked.

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#the miys #humans are weird #humans are space orcs #found family #aspec #science fiction #original science fiction #earth is space australia #humans are space fae #hfy #fiction #original fiction #my writing #apocalypse #aliens #post-apocalypse

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spartanguard · 4 years

Text

even death won’t part us now (5/?)

Summary: Two covens, both alike in dignity, / In fair New York, where we lay our scene, / From ancient grudge break to new mutiny, / Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean. From forth the fatal loins of these two foes / A pair of star-cross’d lovers take their life; / Whole misadventured piteous overthrows / Do with their death bury their sires’ strife. (Captain Swan + West Side Story + vampires. But not as sad. Probably.)

A/N: Brace yourself for some feelz, friends; that’s all I can say about this chapter. (There’s just...a LOT of emotion. You’ll see ;) ) Eternal thanks, as always, to @optomisticgirl for being an awesome beta; to @thesschesthair for her amazing art (LOOK AT THAT AHHHHHHH); and to @kmomof4 and @cssns for putting this event on and pushing me to continue this story!

if you’ve ever seen AVPM/S, I’d like you to imagine Draco Malfoy singing the Anita part and that’s what my high school’s production of West Side Story was like

part five: tonight, there will be no morning star

The skyscraper was a wonderful invention; a marvel of modern engineering. The ability to construct a building all the way into the clouds was one of the many things Gold was glad he had lived long enough to see. He’d been impressed enough when the Equitable Life Building opened in 1870; the balcony he stood on now was at least five times higher in the sky.

It was a good thing his sense of vertigo was long-dead, else he might not be able to spend as much time out here, looking down on the city, as he did. It made him feel like some modern monarch, surveying his kingdom from on high. In reality, it was much more complicated than that, though he’d spent long enough building his empire that it wasn’t far-fetched to call it a dynasty.

He sometimes lamented that his efforts would never be documented in history books; how he’d spent centuries working away right under the noses of the mortals, and they remained oblivious. Maybe he’d make that his next project. Surely there was some suffering, underappreciated writer he could bribe with immortality...ah, but not tonight. There’d be time for that later. First, he had to weather whatever was coming.

He wasn’t quite sure what it was, but something in the air was different tonight; a sense of anticipation was floating on the wind, carried along by the brine of the ocean. He tapped his fingers on the rail of the balcony but was unable to tap down on what it was precisely.

“Hello, Rumple,” a voice he’d never be able to forget said from somewhere above.

Ah, perhaps that was it then; he always had a sense for when she was around. “I thought I smelled betrayal and cheap wine on the breeze. Good evening, Cora.”

The woman dropped from the roof above, landing gracefully on the terrace without even wrinkling her pantsuit. Her style had always edged on sharp, though this seemed surprisingly simple for her; he recalled bigger shoulder pads the last time he’d seen her—what was it, ‘85?

“You seem awfully calm considering what’s about to happen tonight,” she said, ignoring the jibe. Ah well, it was worth a shot; he hadn’t been able to get a rise out of her since 1621, but it didn’t stop him from trying.

He scoffed. “What, a minor scuffle? Two lads having it out over a couple blocks of territory? Seems to me it’s far more personal than anything that would actually mean something.” He’d had to restrain himself from chuckling when Jones told him about the fight; they had no idea.

“Don’t tell me you’ve grown so dense that you don’t realize what this means,” she preened.

He wanted to call her bluff, but if there was one thing he’d learned in over 400 years of dealing with Cora, is that she rarely did. “Enlighten me.”

“It means your underlings are growing restless and tired of this. Mine too. And I’d rather not have this end the way it did last time that happened.” ‘Last time’ being a bloody war; they were able to hide it from the mortals within the confines of the American Revolution but it was a near miss. He’d began rebuilding his ranks immediately; she’d taken her time. And here they were now.

“Chaos has always been my friend, dearie; I can’t say I’d be too upset if it broke out now.”

“While I wouldn't mind it either, I’d be watching your back a bit more closely. Didn’t Jones bring up something...rather interesting earlier?”

Somehow, a chill ran down his unfeeling spine—not just at what Jones had asked about, but the fact that she seemed to know about it as well. “It’s nothing; just a myth. It’s not possible.”

“Please. Think of everything we’ve seen, everything we’ve been through together. Nothing is impossible.”

“I’ve made sure of it.”

“Have you?”

She was always good at poking his buttons. And he was done with it.

“Go. And never come back.”

She had to obey, at least, and he took a small thrill in the way she involuntarily started to climb over the balcony’s railing. “Fine. I just thought I was doing you a favor, but I see it’s not wanted. See you in another 30 years, Rumple.”

She let go and fell back; he didn’t watch to see what happened when she hit the ground. He wouldn’t put it past her to frame him for murder, but she had a different angle this time.

Even though she’d left, that sense of apprehension lingered. Something was indeed coming, something that would change things in his world—but what?

And why did he get the sense Jones was involved?

★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★

The sun wasn’t even below the horizon before Emma left home, shouting a quick “goodbye and good luck” over her shoulder as she headed out into the evening. If she were in her normal skip-tracing clothes (aka her normal clothes), she’d be running across rooftops to get to Granny’s in no time flat. But no, this was a honeypot, so she had to walk, lest she break the only pair of heels she could actually move in without pain. (That was one thing she’d been dismayed to discover: heels still hurt, even if she recovered faster.)

Still, she powerwalked to Granny’s in record time. “Evening, Emma,” the old wolf called out. “The usual?”

“Yes, ma’am,” she replied, slipping onto her normal stool at the fairly empty counter. It was weird—for a place known to so many, it always seemed to be fairly empty. She had to guess that last night’s meeting was the most crowded it had been in ages. Or maybe that was just part of the magic of the diner.

If she had to guess, the guy at the booth on the other side of the room was a werewolf, based on scent alone; and there was what looked like a fairy bachelorette party at the large booth in the corner. (Not to be confused with fae—she made that mistake once and only once.) Being the only vampire, it was kind of nice to feel like the odd person out for a change. Though she hoped that changed soon.

“Order up!” Granny was suddenly in front of her with a plate of one of the few things on the menu Emma could eat: onion rings. (Onions that had been soaked in blood overnight, mind you, but that was enough for her to be able to stomach them.)

“Thank you so much, Granny,” she effused, and then moaned as she bit into one. “Have I ever told you you’re a genius?”

“It’s been mentioned once or twice. When does lover boy get here?”

As incredible as it was, Emma almost spat out the bite. “Excuse me?”

“Girl, you think I didn’t smell you all over him last night? He covered it up well enough for the others not to notice, but I know better.”

First Zelena, now Granny; they were both going to have to invest in industrial-strength body spray if they were going to keep this under wraps for the time being.

“Calm down; I won’t tell.” But she leaned in across the counter and lowered her voice. “But if you need a place to meet in secret, you know I have rooms upstairs. And I promise not to listen too close.”

“Thanks; I’ll, uh, keep it in mind,” Emma stammered, then hid her embarrassment in another bloody onion ring. Granny, unsurprisingly, cackled and walked away.

It would take more than a voyeuristic wolf to keep her from enjoying fried deliciousness, though, and she savored every bite—being glad she was wearing a red dress in case of drips (Deadpool totally stole that from her, as far as she was concerned)—until there were just two left: the most perfect, juicy, crispiest ones of the bunch. But suddenly, there was only one. And she also wasn’t alone at the counter anymore.

Two seats away, Killian sat with one of her onion rings, taking a slow bite that had her mouth watering in other ways; the way his tongue swiped away the bit of blood that escaped his lips was almost arousing enough to overlook the theft. Almost.

“All those manners and no one taught you to ask nicely?”

“I told you I was a pirate,” he tossed back, taking another bite. “Not a whole lot of ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ going on there.”

“I highly doubt you ever pillaged anything as precious as those, though.” She started to stand up to close the distance between them, but he threw her a warning look out of the corner of his eye that made her pause.

“We’re in public,” he muttered with his mouth full. Damn, he was right; even if no one from either coven was here now, that could easily change. Which was really annoying because as good as his rum-flavored kisses tasted last night, she liked onion rings even more. And, you know, they probably had some business to discuss—like whatever Zelena had been talking about.

As if on cue, Granny slipped past again, but this time tossing a key (with a rather ostentatious keyring) onto the counter in front of her as she went to address her new customer. There was a room number written on it in Sharpie; Emma memorized the number and slipped the key into her lap as she sat back down. (While also making a mental note to try to find some sexy dresses with pockets.)

The appeal of her last onion ring waned given that there was something far more delicious-smelling a few feet away, so she scarfed it down, threw some cash on the counter, and then headed to the hallway that led upstairs. Granny definitely did better business in the diner than her inn, and it wasn’t anything special, but it was clean, which Emma couldn’t say about a lot of other places she’d been; her skps really loved the city’s roach motels. (Something told Emma the very nature of her host kept most vermin far from the premises.)

Room 305 was simple, sparse, but had a decent-sized mattress with a sturdy frame, and a clean bathroom. All she needed was the privacy, though.

She’d hardly tossed her purse and the key on the room’s table when a soft knock fell on the door; she wouldn’t have heard it if she was still human. She turned back and, out of habit, glanced through the room’s peephole; she was already getting a whiff of spicy and salty air through the door, but this was still the city and you couldn’t be too careful. But of course it was Killian on the other side, peering up at the door through his crazy long lashes.

She didn’t wait any longer to pull it open, and nearly as soon as she had, he was on top of her, claiming her lips with his and damn, she was right—onion rings tasted as good on his lips as they did on her tongue. (But his tongue tasted even better.)

Somehow, the door was shut behind them and while she wasn’t quite sure who was leading, they pressed together from tip to toe until they fell against the plush—and noisy—mattress, sinking in with a loud squeak of ancient steel.

“Should have known Granny would want to hear something like that,” he chuckled. “Saucy old wolf.”

“Eh, let her listen.” Emma’s own arousal was climbing too fast for her to care, and she pounced on Killian again, wrapping a leg around him and pressing her core against his. He was definitely eager, too, she could tell; it was kind of funny how, out of all the bodily functions that ended when a person transitioned to a vampire, arousal was the one that remained unchanged. She’d had her fair share of flings in her afterlife, but no one had her as keyed up as Killian did with so little effort.

His hand wandered down her side, squeezing her waist and then pulling her rear impossibly closer, before toying with the hem of her dress. “I thought last night’s dress was rather demure for you,” he said between kisses, “but this one is positively sinful.”

“Good. Means work will go fast tonight. Horny bond skips usually fall for it pretty fast.”

“I can see why. I’d tell you to be careful, but I feel like it would be better to warn your prey.”

“Emma Swan always gets her man.”

“What a lovely motto.”

“True so far. And that includes right now.” She sucked a line of kisses down his sharp jaw to the juncture of his neck, drawing a delicious moan from him. “Do you have one?”

“Aye,” he breathed, eyes squinted shut as if trying to regain his thoughts. “A man unwilling to fight for what he wants deserves what he gets.”

“And what is it you want?”

He opened his eyes—clear blue even in the dingy yellow light. “You, love. Just you.”

How could she do anything but kiss him within an inch of his afterlife?

Everything that followed was a rush of sensation rather than any coherent thought:

The brush of his beard against her neck, the firmness of his chest beneath her hands (as well as that of his ass), each graze of his fingers against her thigh as they moved her dress up.

The way his weight settled above her in a way that was both oppressive and comforting, the dance of fingers as they undid his fly (she wasn’t even sure whose all were involved in that), the bob of his cock as it sprang free from denim confines.

How something so hard could feel so soft in her hand—nearly enough to make him come undone on touch alone, but she’d be damned if she let that happen. (Or, well, damned more than she probably already was going to be.) How, for the first time in 15 years, she genuinely felt flushed.

It was all she could do to shove her lace panties aside and guide him home, and oh—she didn’t have the words for what that felt like: to be filled so perfectly it could have brought tears to her eyes (you know, if her tear ducts still worked).

And then he moved and—holy shit. Her fangs dropped down on their own accord again but she couldn’t be bothered to care this time; hell, all she wanted to do was sink her teeth into him, but she’d have to settle with using a heel to press him back in.

“You feel incredible, darling,” he murmured, slightly lisping—his fangs had dropped too. Maybe she hadn’t learned all there was to know about vampire biology. But that could be dealt with later; right now, she just needed him, and to find the release that was inching closer painfully slowly.

“So do you,” she whispered. “But it feels amazing when you move.”

“As you wish,” he said into her ear, his breath somehow feeling hot on it, and he complied. They started slow, careful presses in and out to find their rhythm, then picking up speed and power. She really hoped the bed frame would hold up (Twilight did get that part right) and was sure Granny was getting a good show, but she put any other wonderings into finding his lips again, the play of teeth and tongues and lips coinciding with the meeting of other body parts.

It felt like a slow climb—something she was used to in post-mortem relations—but then the precipice came out of nowhere and she was suddenly falling, gasping into Killian’s mouth as her release carried her away, though she held his shoulders with an iron grip to keep from floating too far.

He wasn’t far behind, she felt, and his fingers would have left imprints on her side were they still capable of being bruised. She felt his release spill inside her as his movements stuttered until he was done, slipping out and falling next to her on his back.

It was probably some long-buried instinct that left them feeling out of breath after sex, but Emma was pretty sure she was sweating. Dead or alive, that had been one of the greatest orgasms of her life—and, honestly, sex was so much easier while undead, what with the whole not needing birth control or being worried about STIs. But this—this was something else.

“I do have to admit, that wasn’t my initial aim in following you up here,” Killian said, pulling her into his side. “But I’m not complaining.”

“I think we’d have some issues if you were. You seemed very enthusiastic about it.”

“And how could I not be?” he smirked, turning to look at her. But then his smile fell, and he pressed his thumb against her lips; it came back red. “Apologies, love; did I hurt you?”

She licked her lips and tasted the copper. “No; I hadn’t even noticed. It might have been self-inflicted,” she said, pressing her tongue against her own still-exposed canines. “I wish I knew why that kept happening.”

“It’s just the effect I have on you.”

“Yeah, it is.” Her normal MO when flirting was to refute a statement like that, but...why lie? “I’ve been waiting to see you all day.”

“I can tell.” She lightly slapped his shoulder, and he chuckled at the reaction. “I felt the same way; I hope I didn’t keep you waiting long.”

“A day is a lot less than 15 years. It dragged but I managed. Thank you for not murdering my dad last night.”

“That wouldn’t have been very gentlemanly. And if anyone was going to do any assassination last night, it would have been Graham killing me.”

Ugh, of course he would; she groaned. “Sorry; he can’t take a hint. You make out with a guy once twelve years ago and apparently he keeps a flame lit for the next decade.”

“I can hardly blame him, especially knowing how you kiss.” His thumb again traced her lips, which had healed by now, and god, the reverence in that gentle gesture was nearly as overwhelming as her orgasm. But then his brow furrowed. “You don’t suppose true love’s kiss is real, do you?”

Emma blinked, confused; where had that come from? “No, probably not, though I wouldn't dare say that around my mom—she most likely believes in it. Why?”

“Granny mentioned something to me last night after the meeting, and I did some research today...were you also aware the prophecies were real?”

“No, I was not.” Though surprised, she listened as Killian told her about Gold and his powers—actual, honest-to-god, dark magical powers—and the prophecy that spelled his end. She wasn’t too surprised that it was kept under wraps, especially given what she’d learned from Zelena last night (which Killian somehow did not know, which made her feel like less of a newb for once).

But most shocking was the fact that Kililan thought she was the one the prophecy talked about. “Fuck.”

“That’s a succinct way of putting it.”

“I don’t word good, so the fewer, the better.” Quips aside, she was having a hard time wrapping her head around the whole thing. “So I might be the only person that can kill Gold and end this whole feud? That’s….a lot.”

“I know, but I want you to know it’s not a burden you carry alone.”

And then the other half hit her: true love. Did that mean…? “So...that’s us? That means we’re—”

“Maybe,” he said softly, probably sensing her panic. She couldn’t deny that she had deep feelings for Killian, but true love? That was...that was her parents, that was fairy tales; that didn’t happen to her.

“I don’t want all that,” she whispered. “I just want to be with you; I don’t want to be responsible for ending some centuries-long feud.”

“I know, love,” he murmured, and pulled her close; she was nestled into the crook of his neck and other than her dad’s patented hugs, she’s never felt so safe. “It’s not for certain; just a theory, and you’re under no obligation to act on it. But if you choose to, know that I’m here beside you each step of the way.”

“Or we can just run off; go hide in the woods upstate or something. Or Maine—or even Canada; they’d never find us there.”

“Not likely, no,” he chuckled; she could feel the vibration of it through his collarbone onto her cheek. “Maybe a cottage by the seaside somewhere? Some remote little beach?”

“Mm, sounds perfect.” Her parents would understand, right? And even if they didn’t….well, they could deal. “Let’s just do that right now. Let me go catch this skip, and then I’ll pack my bags and we can go.”

She felt more than saw his smile. “As much as I’d love that, I’m afraid I have some other things to attend to this evening.”

Oh right, the fight—how could she forget? “I guess that brawl is kind of pointless then, isn’t it?”

“Aye; perhaps why Gold seemed unperturbed by the idea.”

“Then what’s the point in letting it happen? Do you think you can stop it?” It was probably because she was fairly young and hadn’t been fully indoctrinated to the cause, but the thought of an inconsequential fight that had even a slight chance of becoming something worse—because, with the way tensions ran, that was alway a possibility—made her really nervous.

“I’ll certainly try; I agree, I don’t like the thought of unnecessary fighting, either.” And he’d probably seen more than his fair share of it. “Whatever happens, I’ll come find you when it’s all done—I promise.”

“I will hunt you down if you don’t.”

“I wouldn’t expect any less.”

She kissed him again, slower and sweeter than before. “Ugh, I don’t want to go, but this skip will pay rent for a month.”

“I don’t want you to go, but it’d be ungentlemanly to make you late for work.”

“Do you always have to be one?”

“Yes.”

She sighed. “Fine.”

Thankfully, they had enough time for one more make out, and she was already making a mental note to hit a drug store later for some perfume; his scent was probably embedded in her pores at this point. (She also mentioned he might want to do the same; he said he’d stop by his apartment before heading to the fight.)

Eventually, they righted themselves and made their way out of the room, pausing for one last, slow kiss in the hallway after locking the door.

“Not a moment will go by I don’t think of you,” Killian murmured, but he may as well have shouted it for as hard as it hit her.

“Good,” she replied, hoping he heard how much she meant the same thing back.

With one final peck, she dashed out the back door and into the night, off to whatever seedy bar she was finding the scumbag-of-the-week. Hopefully, this would be a quick one—she already missed Killian.

★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★

For a moment after Emma left, Killian stood stock still in the hallway, Emma’s scent lingering around him as his fingers traced the feel of her lips on his. That was not at all how he anticipated this encounter to go—he was fairly old fashioned in some senses, especially when it came to someone he wanted to court properly—but any complaint had died before he could give it voice. In a way, they were just making up for lost time, he supposed.

And he would see to it that they weren’t limited in that regard ahead.

Granny gave a lascivious wink when he placed the key on the counter in the diner, and he was sure she’d have more to say were the evening crowd (as it were) not filling up the place. He used that to his advantage and took his leave, even though he still had a few hours until he was due anywhere.

He spent a bit of time at the docks, mulling over how they’d changed over the years (and eyeing the ships for sale; he’d had to sell his last one and was in the market for something new, especially if a quick getaway might be needed at some point), before keeping his promise to Emma and stopping at his apartment for some fresh cologne to cover her scent. How no one had noticed it the night before was a mild miracle, but adrenaline would be running strong tonight and senses would be on high alert.

(He so loathed to erase the evidence of her on his person, though.)

There was still time to kill, so he walked slowly (well, for him) in the direction of the lot, even patiently waiting for crossing lights to indicate the all clear rather than dart out early like most New Yorkers did. He should probably find a snack, since he didn’t get to finish his drink at Granny’s; a hunger-like pang was stirring within, but there wasn’t enough time for that now.

The lot was mostly empty when he arrived, and the street oddly quiet; at least that boded well for this rendezvous—and perhaps he’d be able to maintain the peace.

As he got closer, a pinprick of light burned out of the darkness; it took but a millisecond for his eyes to adjust and see that Robin was waiting, a lit cigarette dangling from his fingers.

“You’ll smoke yourself into an early grave,” Killian scolded lightly, as he’d done many times before.

“Tis a pity I never got the chance, then, aye?” Robin tossed back. He and his wife had been emigrating to America in the mid-1800s when scarlet fever broke out on their ship; his wife and unborn child didn’t make it, but somehow, Gold had been aboard, and turned Robin before the disease claimed him as well.

In life, Robin had never had the money to maintain a tobacco habit, but once he found himself with unlimited time—and lungs that would never damage—he’d taken it up with gusto.

“Just don’t let me catch you vaporizing, or whatever it is,” Killian teased.

“Vaping, and no, never.”

They waited in companionable silence as Robin finished his cigarette and started on another. That caught Killian’s interest; while smoking might be a favored hobby for Robin, he’d never been known to indulge in chain smoking—unless he was nervous.

Footsteps on the other end of the lot drew their attention; David, Graham, and the others (though thankfully not Zelena) stepped from the shadows. At the sight, the twisting in his gut coiled again, and an ancient feeling washed over him: trepidation. He hadn’t felt that since...god, not since Yorktown.

And that clearly ended well. (He thought to himself, sarcastically.)

He couldn’t pinpoint a reason for his sense of dread; it was certainly not the first time the two teams had gone head-to-head (even if he hoped it might be the last). He couldn’t count the number of lives lost to the feud over the centuries—thankfully few innocent ones, but the number of siblings-in-arms sacrificed to the cause was far too high.

He’d never been nervous before any of those encounters. So why was this one giving him anxiety?

(Because so much was riding on this. Because he didn’t want to let Emma down.)

Will and Henry appeared out of nowhere, suddenly behind them, and if it was possible for the scene to get even more silent, it did. The men were lined up shoulder to shoulder in two opposing lines; it was like the standoff in a terrible spaghetti western, but without the benefit of a Morricone score.

The tension was palpable as they all stood stone-still, waiting for the other side to make any sort of move. It would have been the perfect time for Killian to intervene—convince them all to back down—but he was too worried that even so much as a pin drop would make waves.

In the end, it turned out to be the drop of cigarette ash that sent things into motion; Robin’s burnt end had barely hit the ground before he and Graham were on top of each other, snarling and slashing in the middle of the carpark.

An outsider would have thought it was some strange dance, or possibly performance art, with the way they clamored at each other but never seemed to land any blows. But Killian’s keen eyes could see each dodge of a body from a clawing limb, their extended fangs thirsting for blood, and the way Graham curled inward when Robin landed a first, firm punch on the other man’s stomach; that finally drew Killian from his stupor.

“No; that’s enough!” he shouted, then put himself between them. “We don’t need to do this.”

Despite his advanced age, he didn’t have as much an advantage over the two of them as he thought he did; they simply jumped away and continued. Before he could step in again, a firm hand had him by the shoulder.

“Hey, this was your idea; what kind of power grab is this?” David growled; his other hand was curled into a fist. Should have known he’d be itching for a fight, too.

“You really think this will solve anything?” Killian spat. “Our bosses don’t care; this goes way beyond us, mate.”

Killian threw him off and made for the other two, who were now wrapped in what he guessed was some sort of wrestling move, arms gripped on the other’s shoulders. But before he got all the way there, David jumped in front of him.

“I’m not your mate.” David was glaring and trying to use his height advantage to intimidate, but Killian wouldn’t dare hurt the father of his love, even if he was his opponent at the moment.

“Fine, but I’m not your enemy either; you don’t even know what you’re fighting for.”

“You think I don’t know?” Now he was moving toward Killian—though, over his shoulder, he could see that Robin had landed another punch, this time on Graham’s chest. “Aurum turned me and my wife against our will. Aurum made our daughter grow up without her parents. You just take and take, and do whatever you want without facing the consequences. And now, what—you think you can get out of them because you might lose?” The irony in that statement, of course, being that Robin had now hit Graham in the jaw, who had paused to cradle his sore chin.

“But you have her now; doesn’t that count for anything?” Killian pleaded.

He realized as soon as he said it that he’d made a grave error. David stopped, taken aback. “How did you know that?” he said, voice barely above a whisper.

Killian didn’t take the time to answer; with any luck, that would be explained later. He jumped on the opportunity presented and dashed toward Robin and Graham again, pushing Robin away as he was about to make what would likely be the winning blow.

“Bloody hell, mate,” Robin sputtered, and Killian was about to reply, except he was suddenly face down on the pavement after something that felt vaguely like a foot hit him in the back.

“What game are you playing, Jones?” David yelled from above, giving Killian a good idea of who had attacked him. He was back on his feet in an instant, and so were the rest of the gangs, all around them. Fuck; so much for not bringing anyone else in.

It was Robin’s turn to step in front of Killian. “Are you trying to start a rumble, Nolan?”

“I didn’t start anything, but I will if that’s what you want.” Next to him, Graham pulled a suspiciously long, slender object from a pocket, and the subsequent swish of the weapon confirmed: he had a switchblade.

And a second later, Robin had pulled his own out.

They were immediately back on top of each other, with the others egging them on— “Right in the heart, Robin!” “Go for the neck, Graham!”

Killian’s lone attempt to pull Graham back (he was the closest to him at the time) ended with him also being pulled away by Jefferson; he and David restrained Killian and while he might have been able to shake off one of them, the two of them together were too much. He had to watch helplessly as the two in the center continued to swipe at each other, blades glinting dangerously in the murky streetlights.

It was still only until first blood, right? And that was bound to happen faster now that sharp edges were involved.

Almost in slow motion, he watched as the tip of Robin’s blade sliced at Graham’s cheek, leaving behind a thin line of red. He sighed in relief, little as he needed that breath; that was it—it was done.

David and Jefferson loosened their grip on him and he shook them off, not withholding a glare in David’s direction. He then turned to face Robin, to get him—all of them—out of there as quickly as possible, but his voice got stuck in his throat.

While Robin had barely relaxed, let down his guard for the briefest of seconds, Graham lunged at him and sank his blade into Robin’s chest.

Into Robin’s heart.

The world stood still for a moment as everyone stared in shock, and the reality of what just happened washed over Killian. It wasn’t until Graham jerked the blade free, dripping blood—Robin’s blood—on the ground, that he was jolted enough from his stupor to move.

“No!” Killian screamed, then ran to his friend just as he collapsed. “No, no, no,” he muttered, pressing a hand against Robin’s wound, but there was no use for it—a vampire was just as susceptible to that kind of stabbing as a mortal was.

Robin was gasping for air, useless as it was, as his lifeblood spilled out onto the asphalt below him, quite literally draining the life from him; little would be left in a few moments but ash and memories. If Killian could cry, he’d have been sobbing.

“Tell—tell ‘gina—” Robin stammered, but was quickly losing energy.

He knew what he was asking, anyways. “I’ll tell Regina,” he promised.

With his last bit of strength, Robin wrapped his hand around Killian’s and squeezed, smiling, as death finally came for him. It was fast—too fast, but wounds like that always led to a quick death. It wasn’t the first time Killian had held another person as they disintegrated in his hold, but it was by far the most painful. And the most unwarranted.

The dust that had been Robin settled in the air around him, landing on his hand where blood was still fresh. In more ways than one, Killian began to see red.

Without thinking, he grabbed Robin’s abandoned switchblade and in one swift moment, stood and shoved it at Graham, instinctively finding his most vulnerable spot.

Graham stammered back, pulling the weapon out—and hastening his own demise. All too quickly, he collapsed on his knees, his team gathering around him, and a moment later, he too was ash.

A sharp wind off the ocean blew Graham’s remains toward Killian, bringing with them the realization of what he had done:

He’d killed a member of Emma’s coven—practically her family.

And he’d done nothing to end the feud; if anything, he escalated it.

Bloody fuck, what had he done?

And what could he do now?

He stared in horror at the blood around him, trying to formulate a plan, when Will blessedly broke the fragile silence.

“Rozzers!” he shouted, then began to run, only to see no one else move. “Cops?” he translated into American English, which got the reaction he was looking for; everyone hopped to their feet and ran. No one wanted to explain this scene to mortal police.

Everyone but Killian. He wondered if his feet had become concrete, he was so rooted in place. It wasn’t until Will was in his face, urging him to move, that he did.

“Do you have somewhere to lay low? I don’t think Coroza is gonna let this one go,” he asked as they dashed from the lot.

His thoughts immediately turned to Emma, suicidal as that likely was. Could he drag her into this? Or would that be the least likely place they’d look?

He’d have to risk it. “Aye, I do.”

“Alright, then go; the less I know the better. Good luck, mate,” Will told him, then ran in another direction; belatedly, Killian realized, headed toward where Belle lived.

There was no time to dwell on that, though, and he changed course to head uptown. He had no idea what lay ahead, but he knew one thing: whatever it was, he wanted Emma at his side.

(Assuming, that is, she forgave him.)

★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★

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