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nightwishesworld · 3 years

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Babysitting (Part 1)

You and Alcina are roped into taking care of your friend's daughter for a few days. Alcina is...less than excited about it. I mean, come on, a baby in Castle Dimitrescu? What could possibly go wrong?!

***********************

The warmth of the afternoon sun crept its way into the windows of Castle Dimitrescu. Both you and Alcina decided it was a beautiful day to take your afternoon tea in the gardens instead of the library . Blooms grew in newly fragranced air, the sweet petals that fluttered reflected by the honeyed-sweetness within. The garden birds always warm your heart. They bring so much joy just from watching them play and dance around the hedges. There are so many of them out today, large and small, brown, red-capped, and golden stripped. You love listening to their chirping, each singing its own beautiful song.

Alcina held your hand over the table as she sipped her special blend of tea.

“Oh, Darling, did I tell you Cristofor and Lucia are going out of town? He says it’s for business but honestly, I think they just want to have a break from the baby. I mean, I don’t blame them, it’s their first kid and you know how hectic everything’s been for them lately."

Alcina nods. “Yes, well, it didn’t help that they were a little unprepared for baby Julianna. That’s her name, right? I remember we offered to buy a few things for them before she was born.”

“Yeah, that’s it, but I just call her Jewel. My precious little gem. I guess they’re gonna be gone for the extended weekend and need someone to watch her.”

Alcina scoffs. “I pity those they choose.”

“Oh stop it, Alcina, it won’t be that bad.”

She stops what she’s doing, nearly choking on her tea, and just stares at you. “You didn’t. You did not! Please for the love of Mother Miranda tell me you didn’t say we would take care of her!”

Your silence was all the answer she needed.

“Why would you do that? Castle Dimitrescu is no place for a baby!”

“Tell that to Cris! I tried telling him that and all he did was assure me that everything would be fine. They feel Jewel would be safest in our care; they were practically begging, Al. What was I supposed to say?”

“No?” You roll your eyes at her. “What about their family? Are they really not available?”

“Lucia said she would feel guilty asking her folks to do any more for them. They usually watch her every day Cris and Lucia are at work. Imagine that plus three straight days; I would want a break too.”

Alcina stayed silent.

“They’re gonna stop by in a few days with some stuff, like diapers and toys and things.”

Alcina huffed and crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m so glad you discussed the details so thoroughly with them.”

“I figured you would say no. Look, I’m sorry I went behind your back but they really need a babysitter and they don’t trust anyone as they do us. Besides, I’m Jule’s unofficial aunt, I don’t think I can say no to something like this. I know you don’t like kids, but-”

“What are you talking about? I love seeing little Julianna.”

“You do? Cause every time they come to visit you seem kind of...distant”

“I don’t...I don’t like holding her. She’s too tiny and fragile for someone like me to be holding.”

“Someone like you?” Then it dawned on you. “Oh, Alci. You don’t actually believe that, do you? You’re always so gentle with her.”

“Because if I’m not delicate I’ll crush her.” Alcina’s face held sorrow to it, not evident to most individuals.

“You wouldn’t crush her, Alci. I know you better than that. You literally came running into my study the other day because I screamed ‘spider,’ and then carried me out because I lost sight of it. You’re a lot more gentle than you’re giving yourself credit.You're a good, thoughtful, and gentle person Alci. Anyone who can’t see that is purely idiotic,” I muttered under my breath.

“I suppose it’s not the worst thing in the world, having a baby running around the castle. And we have time to babyproof everything.”

“That shouldn’t be too hard, love, she’s only seven months old. She’s only just starting to learn how to crawl.”

You were talking but Alcina wasn’t listening. She was too busy making a mental checklist of everything that needed to be done before baby Julianna arrived. “Hmm? Oh yes, of course, darling. Do you know where they got those baby gates? We’re going to need quite a few of them.”

“Alci, I don’t think we’ll need-” She’s already walked away. “ Hey, at least you’re embracing it?”

True to his word, Cris arrived at the castle three days later with a carriage full of supplies. You wanted to welcome them with Alcina, but the matriarch was nowhere to be found. The past few days for her have been spent deep cleaning the walls and floors, which really sucked, especially for Bela, Cassi, and Dani. They stuck doing the hard labor as Alcina bossed them around.

You greeted him with a tight hug. “Thank god you’re here. Alcina’s going crazy trying to babyproof everything. I don’t think the castle’s ever been this protected. Or this clean,” I muttered the last part under my breath.

Cris put a hand over his heart. “Oh, she doesn’t have to do that! Julianna can barely crawl five feet. Besides, I know for certain this place is much neater than our house, even on a bad day. She would have been perfectly fine.”

“I tried to tell her to not worry so much, but it just goes in one ear and out the other. Perhaps if she hears it from you she’ll finally listen,” I rolled my eyes playfully.

Cris nods. “And you wonder why I think Julianna’s so safe up here. I’ll be sure to mention it to Alcina. Do you wanna unload this stuff now or wait for her?”

You glance behind him to the carriage. There were a few large bags filled with miscellaneous items as well as a few larger things on the back seat not bagged at all like the playpen. “I don’t even know where she is, Cris. And I’d offer to have the girls help, but they’re hiding from Alci. Let’s just get started. We can put it in the lounge in the foyer until Alcina comes around.”

“Sounds like a plan. Some of this stuff I’ll bring more of when we drop her off, like diapers, you’ll never have enough diapers,” he says as he tosses you a bag.

“So you’ve said. Didn’t you have a nightmare about it once?”

“Before Lucia even went into labor. We ran out and every shop in a 50-mile radius was sold out. To date, it’s one of my worst nightmares.”

You laughed. “So where are you guys going? I mean, really going. You don’t actually think I believe that crap about a Mortician Expo, do you?”

Cris gave you a look of skepticism and stayed silent as if he were planning his next move.

“Relax man, I don’t actually care. Taking care of a baby is more work than I can imagine. I would want a break too!” The statement seemed to ease him.

“Nowhere special. We made reservations at a nice hotel a few hours south of here; it’s got a pool, hot tub, couples massages, the works!”

You nod, tossing the last of the bags by the lounge. “Nice! You guys deserve it, like I said, I can’t imagine how much work taking care of Julianna is.”

“You won’t have to in a few days,” he laughed.

“I’m excited now, but something tells me I won’t be in a few days. Just sleep deprived!”

“Nah you’ll love it. It’s just, well only slightly tiring! That’s all. Should we go looking for Alcina? I wanna go over Julianna’s schedule with both of you.”

“She knew you were coming so she should be here any minute now. I’m sure she just lost track of time bossing the girls around. The entire west wing has been baby-proofed and when I mean the entire wing, I mean the entire wing. She had Daniela take down all of the ornate weapons and armor from the walls while Bela and Cassi scrubbed everything. And that was just this morning.”

“I’ll be sure to thank them then,” Cris chuckled lightheartedly.

As if on cue, you can just make out the sound of high heels rushing down the corridor, only to stop abruptly just around the corner. Knowing Alcina she was probably adjusting herself to look like her usual well-presented way. Sure as rain, Alcina approached looking as elegant as ever. “Oh Cristofor, please forgive me. It’s been total chaos around here- I completely lost track of time and-”

Cris waved it off and took her hand in his, bringing it up so he could kiss her wedding ring. “Think nothing of it, Alcina. I heard you’ve been keeping yourself busy.”

The matriarch sent you a glare that you shrug off with a smug smile.

“You don’t need to worry about anything, Alcina. I know my little girl will be in the best care possible up here. There’s no one Lucia and I trust more.”

“That is one very generous statement, Cristofor, but a castle is still no place for a baby, especially this one.”

“That may hold some truth, but most of all that...messy business stays in the basement, right?”

“All of it does,” you answer for Alcina. “Even I’m not allowed down there and we’ve been married for three and a half years!”

“And for good reason,” Alcina says. “You know what goes on down there. Why would I put my wife’s life in danger?”

You were about to retaliate but Cris wrapped his arms around the both of you. “Let’s just get this stuff upstairs, huh? Far the fuck away from the basement and whatever goes on down there.”

Alcina opens her mouth but Cris shakes his head profusely. “Nope, don’t want to know. Let’s just get to the bedroom. Wow, the walls do look bare.”

“Indeed,” Alcina nodded. “It’s a good thing little Julianna is staying, I should have had the walls deep cleaned nearly decades ago,” she let out an elegant laugh.

“I hope you didn’t do all this just for us.” Cris looked in awe as the various portraits and ornate weapons decorating the walls became more scarce as they neared the master bedroom. It made this part of the castle feel abandoned. The chemical smell of cleaning solvents was strong, but it would surely be gone in time for Julianna’s arrival.

“Of course I did. You are family and you deserve nothing but the best possible care.”

Cristofor shakes his head. "You're a good woman, Alcina. I genuinely hope you know that."

She gives him a warm smile while holding the bedroom door open for him. "I try to be."

"So," he sets down his two large boxes of supplies to rub his back. "Where do you want this stuff?"

"At the foot of the bed for now," you shrug. "Alcina and I will organize everything once it's all here."

He nodded and kicked it lazily to the end of the bed and took a seat on the mattress. "If we wanna be lazy we could shove the rest of the boxes in the playpen and carry it all up in one trip."

"We can do that," you smiled. "Then we can start organizing everything."

"And while we're doing that I'd like to walk you through Julianna's schedule. Lucia made you a copy with a couple of notes on how to do specific things...it's all well let’s just say pretty detailed," he laughed.

A look of fear crossed over the matriarch's face for a moment. "Why don't I go grab it? Then you two can start unpacking. If I run into the girls I'll send them up as well."

"Oh leave the girls alone," you shake your head at the matriarch. "They're already hiding from you."

Alcina lets out an exasperated laugh. "Can you believe that, Cristofor? My own daughters are hiding from me!" Alcina exclaimed with a look of sheer amusement on her face.

"Nothing I'm looking forward to." You started unpacking the many boxes of diapers and arranging them neatly on the already emptied shelves while Cris made himself comfortable sitting on the floor, unpacking blankets and clothes. He unfolded and refolded them in a perfect square and placed them on top of the hope chest. You smiled at each plush blanket bearing a different pattern and color.

"Where can I put her clothes?"

"Um, just on the bed for now. I don't know if Alcina emptied out a drawer yet. It would be that middle one if you wanna check."

You hear almost all the joints in his legs crack as he stands and makes his way over to the dresser. He grips the knobs but pauses before opening them. "I'm not gonna find anything dirty in here, am I?"

"Not in there, no."

He turns back to you with an arched brow and hung jaw. You only laugh at him.

"Is it cleared out?"

He nods, neatly organizing the various onesies and pajama sets.

He busied himself displaying various lotions and powders on the coffee table, which would act as your changing station.

“What can I do?” Alcina asked, staring down anxiously at the various bottles.

Cris thought for a moment before taking two smaller boxes out of the playpen and pushing them towards the vampire. “These are for bath time." He quickly scanned over the contents to make sure he was correct. "This box is shampoos, soaps, and toys. Julianna loves bath time; the more toys and games the better." Alcina smiled. “And this box is her special duck towel, washcloth- also a duck pattern she loves ducks, two non-slip bath mats for both inside and outside the tub, and a sponge.”

She looked a tad overwhelmed again taking in all the items but took the boxes nonetheless. “Good thing I cleared out cupboard space, right darling?”

You wanted to laugh but restrained yourself to biting the inside of your cheek instead. “Yes, dear.”

"Well, that's everything. Oh, and don't worry about a crib. Lucia and I are bringing it when we drop Julianna off."

Alcina shook her head and simply waved him off. "Oh don't bother, Cristofor. We have one she's more than welcome to use."

You gave her a confused look. "Um, no we don't."

"Yes, we do. I just have to grab it out of storage. If you'd like to wait and see if it's up to your standards you're more than welcome to." It wasn't so much of an invitation as it was a plea.

Cris laughed. "Alcina, I told you anything you have is probably way better than ours. I'm sure it's fine."

"It would make me feel a lot better," Alcina said with a hint of desperation in her voice.

"Alright, whatever it takes to make you feel better about this."

Alcina sighed in relief and rushed down the hall.

"She really is worked up about this isn't she?"

You let yourself collapse back onto the bed. "You have no idea. She's been fretting over everything since I told her three whole days ago!"

"I kinda figured she would be the calm one between the two of you since, you know, she's got three kids already."

You feigned a look of hurt. "Ok first of all, ouch my pride! Secondly, all three of the girls were turned when they were adults. Which is why I wanna know where this supposed crib came from."

He turned back to you. "And you know what you're doing?"

"Of course not, but one of us has to be calm about it."

Cris laughed, letting himself lounge back on his elbows. Any further down and he was afraid he would fall asleep. "I guess that's true. You're gonna be great though, both of you. Just the fact that you're worrying about all this stuff tells me you're really dedicated to keeping Julianna safe and happy here."

"Thanks, man. I think I really needed to hear that. Got any advice to help us prepare?"

He slaps a hand on your thigh and gives it a friendly squeeze. "Have as much sex as you can before she's here. Because once she is, you'll be way too tired to even think about it."

You sit up and look at him incredulously, which earns him a hearty laugh. "I asked you for advice on how to keep your baby alive and you tell me to bone my wife?"

"All I'm saying is Lucia and I haven't been able to do it since before Julianna was born," Cris whispered in all seriousness.

Alcina returned carrying what you can only assume is the crib covered with a sheet. Bela stepped in first to hold the door open for her.

"Thank you, darling. I found my one good daughter to help me. Not the rascals this time!"

Cris laughs. "I see that."

The blonde nodded and joined you both on the bed. "Hello, y/n. Hello, Uncle Cris."

"Good to see you, Bela."

“Alright,” you hop off the bed. “Let’s see this crib that we apparently have just laying around.”

Alcina rolls her eyes and yanks the dusty sheet away, revealing the most beautiful baby crib you have ever seen. Polished solid dark oak frame with solid gold detailing wrapping around the bars like vines. The Dimitrescu House Crest is shining proudly on both sides.

A smug grin plastered itself on Alcina’s face knowing she single-handedly put an end to your snarky remarks.

“Holy shit,” you finally say. “And you had this in storage…just because?”

The question made her uncomfortable, you could tell. A shadow cast over Alcina’s face. “I had it made a while back and forgot about it until now. I’m glad it stayed in such pristine shape. Any polishes used on it were water-based and non-toxic. Perfect for a baby to slobber on,” she chuckles almost a bit uncomfortably.

Cris shook his head as he ran a hand across the smooth wooden framework. “I don’t know what to say, Alcina. It’s absolutely gorgeous.”

“Only the best for our favorite niece.”

Cris clapped his hands together and pulled out a few pieces of paper from his back pocket. "Now, onto Julianna's schedule. Lucia tried to be as helpful as possible when writing it down, but she said if you have any questions just ask her when we drop her Jules off."

Both of you nodded as he handed them to you. Bela situated herself on your bed with one of the plushies he brought over just because.

Daily Routine

7 am- wake up and bottle feed 8 ounces for about 20 minutes (doesn't have to be one the dot if she's still sleeping. It's a rare occurrence for her to sleep in, but it could happen

7:30- playtime on the floor or outside (we usually keep her inside this early in the morning but either is perfectly suitable)

8:00- breakfast (something solid-ish. Like oatmeal and fruit chunks)

8:30- more play

Between 9-9:30- bottle-feed 6 ounces for 15 minutes then naptime

11:00- wake up and play (she loves her building blocks and rattle)

Noon- lunch (baby food! Fruit or veggie) (she'll probably refuse solids but don't take no for an answer! Even just a few are ok if she's especially cranky)

12:30- play (peek-a-boo in the mirror! she gets a kick out of it every time.

1:30- bottle-feed 6 ounces and nap (Congrats! you're halfway there)

3:30- wake up and play (try using the hand puppets and engage her in nursery rhymes)

4:00- bottle feed four ounces for roughly 20 minutes

5:00- dinner (more baby food. Whichever one she didn’t have for lunch)! Same as the morning, she'll probably refuse)

5:30-play (maybe go for a walk if you haven't already?)

6:30- bath time! (see added note for specific bathtime notes. She loves hearing her little rubber ducky squeak)

7:00- bottle-feed 8 ounces then time for bed (good luck trying to sleep and getting her to sleep)

1:30 am- bottle feed again (she’ll wake you up when she’s hungry don’t worry)

Breastmilk can be refrigerated for five days and I’ve given you more than enough to hold her over. Protect it with your lives! Breast Milk is liquid gold!

You read the note over a couple of times before handing it to Alcina who looked just as overwhelmed as you. "That is so much."

"Not enough," Alcina says at the same time.

Cris laughs. "Wanna see what she wrote for bathtime?"

Alcina took the second not from him.

Bathtime Tips

Make sure the adhesive mats are set down before bath time begins. One in the tub one outside

Make sure you have everything you need nearby; towel, washcloth, toys (especially her duck), shampoos, lotion, clean clothes, and a diaper

It’s easiest (and less painful) to sit on a stool or something instead of standing and bending over

ALWAYS KEEP A HAND ON HER!

Take off any jewelry and be sure to wash your hands

Check the water temp with the inside of your wrist- it should be warm (not too hot or too cold)

Dry and dress her on the floor (hence the second mat)

Squirty toys! (The duck is her favorite as it also squeaks)

Plastic boats that she can push around

Whale-shaped basin for rinsing hair

Once she’s all dry she can go right in her crib

"Sweet Satan, Cristofor. This is a lot of information. I mean, the more the better but..."

You take her hand in yours and kiss the top of her knuckles. "It's alright, Love, we've got this. If anyone can manage this it's us."

She nods but doesn't really believe your words. You can see the doubt reflecting in her eyes. "You're right."

"It looks way more complicated than it is, ladies. You just put her in the tub, don't let her drown, clean her, and take her out. Boom, simple as that."

Alcina lets out a relieving chuckle and you thank him silently.

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You lay awake that night unable to fall asleep. Alcina is awake too, but you don't dare speak to her. She's too lost in her own world to be bothered with your nonsense. But it was starting to eat you alive from the inside out. You looked over at it sitting across the room. Its existence is mocking you to the point where you can almost hear it laughing at you.

You finally break the silence. “Who’s even is it? You turned the girls when they were adults, right?”

“Yes.”

“All of them?”

You hear her sigh. “Yes of course all of them. Now please, I don’t want to talk about this.”

“But you had to have a reason, Al. No one just has a crib as intricate as that made out of the blue.”

“It doesn’t matter,” her tone grew sharper. “We have it now for Julianna and that’s what matters.”

“I guess so, but…” you turn your body to face her. Her silhouette is laying on her back staring up at the ceiling. “D-did you try having a baby with someone else and…”

She turns to look at you with wide golden eyes. Not angry, but certainly not expecting that line of questioning. You immediately regret opening your mouth.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have-“ Alcina silences your ramblings with a searing kiss. One you happily return.

“It’s nothing like that, my love. My only children are ours. I had it made last year when Lucia first told us she was pregnant. I remember how excited you were for them. You did so much to help her get ready, for both of them, really.” Alcina smiled and reached blindly for your hand. “And every time they come up to visit your eyes just light up when you see Julianna. You’re so good with her, iubirea mea.”

A shadow of guilt passed over her face. “I overheard you talking to Lucia about wanting kids of your own.”

Your heart plummeted down to the pit of your stomach.

“You love our daughters with your entire heart, but it’s not the same as raising your own flesh and blood. Every time I saw you holding little Julianna or singing to her I pictured you with our baby. So, I got all excited and, albeit, ahead of myself and had the crib made.”

“For our baby,” you finished with a genuine smile.

Alcina nodded. “I wanted to wait for you to bring up the conversation before saying anything about it, and” her voice cracks. “You never did. I didn’t understand why at first. You would produce such a beautiful baby with or without me.” Tears pooled in the corners of her eyes threatening to cascade down her cheeks. “Then one night it just sort of hit me; why would you want to share something as precious and innocent as a baby with a monster like me?”

Tears flowed freely from her eyes and sobs racked her body, it broke your heart. Without thinking you throw yourself at Alcina and wrap her tightly in your arms. The vampire happily buries her face in the crook of your neck and cries her heart out. You thread your fingers through her hair to help soothe her.

“Oh, my love, I’m so sorry. Don’t you ever refer to yourself as a monster ever again, do you hear me? You are no monster, Alcina Dimitrescu. How can someone as loving, and soft, and generous like you be anything besides an angel?”

“Oh stop pretending, y/n. I’m a genetically mutated freak! The baby would take one look at me and start wailing,” Alcina let out a frustrated huff.

“Stop it, Alcina. Our baby would adore you just like Bela, Cassandra, and Daniela do. Julianna loves you to pieces! She gets so excited every time you walk in the room.”

Alcina sniffled. “She does that with everyone.”

“Because she likes us, Al.”

A beat of awkward silence passed between the two of you until you finally felt her breathing steady.

“You want to have a baby with me?”

You couldn’t contain your smile as she nodded ever so slightly into your neck. “Why didn’t you say anything before? We could have talked about it months ago. The only reason I never brought it up was that I assumed you didn’t want any more children running amuck in the castle. Imagine if they turned out to be just like Daniela.”

That got her to laugh a little. “I wouldn’t mind a baby running around; especially if they look like you.”

“Well I don’t know about that considering we would have to adopt.”

A mischievous smile crept on Alcina’s lips. “Who says we can’t have a baby ourselves?”

“Um, nature? We’re both women, Alcina. I don’t think I have to explain to you how that won’t work.”

Alcina chuckles into your neck. “We’d have quite the brood running around the castle if it did.”

“Then you want to find a donor?” She detached herself from you just enough to give you a look of disgust. “Of course not; no one is allowed to touch my y/n except me.” She flips you both over so you’re pinned underneath her. “There are ways we could have a baby, you know?”

A blush covered your cheeks down to your chest. “O-oh?”

“Mmhm. The old witch in the village could brew something up for us, should we choose to carry.” She laughs at your dumbfounded expression. “It would be a sex change tonic of sorts. Temporary of course, I believe it only lasts a week.”

You blush furiously.

“And depending on the portions of ingredients she uses we could change the erm, size, if you catch my drift.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to respond, in real words at least. Something between a yelp and a whimper came out of your mouth instead. It gets a laugh out of Alcina at least.

“That’s really a thing we could do?”

She starts trailing kisses down your neck to your chest. “Oh yes,” her free hand comes up to pull your shirt down over your breasts. As soon as they pooled out of their confinement Alcina started circling one of your nipples with her tongue. “Would you like that, darling? To feel my cock pounding into you.”

Fuck you loved it when she talks dirty to you. But that turned you on more than you were willing to admit. You gave a shy nod.

Alcina rewards your honesty by taking your hardened nipple in her mouth and sucking. Her other hand moved up your body to rest on your other breast, gently kneading it like dough.

Alcina has always been fascinated with your breasts. Always burying her face in them when cuddling. She simply melted into them on bad days. Giving her a scalp massage at the same time earned you bonus points.

Her lips abandon your nipple, leaving a bridge of saliva still connecting you, and snuggled her face deep in between your breasts. She let out a long sigh and closed her eyes, letting herself get lost in the moment. Her eyes flutter open and you can see the corners of a smile buried in your chest. “What do you think, my love?”

“I think we should see how we do this weekend before making any big decisions.”

Alcina leaned forward only enough to kiss your lips. “Sounds like a plan.”

#lady dimitrescu x reader #alcina dimitrescu #tall vampire lady #bela dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu #resident evil village #resident evil 8

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1kook · 4 years

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netflix & chill

summary If you planned things right, you could rain down your raging displeasure on Jeon Jungkook right after the meal but before this proposed ‘Netflix and chilling,’ maybe dramatically throw your glass of wine at him, before storming out of his place and reporting him to the authorities (Namjoon) for his douchebag personality. warnings grinding, 2 seconds of sub kook, oral (f), cum eating, vanilla but [ passionate ], unprotected sex, dirty talk tags use of the oldest trick in the book (“your hands are sooo big”), shy oblivious AND gentleman jk? pick a struggle, brief ment of app developer kook, evil and conniving oc wc 10.2k !! wow!!

will I ever write a serious jk fic? NO. this entire thing was based off this pic of jungkook which i’ve said before that i would print out in sepia filter and crumple and stuff in a drawer n then tell my kids 35 years from now was a long lost lover i met on a cruise to the bahamas and never saw again ty to mia more @daechwlta for being there during my brief crisis over this fic 🥺

When Namjoon had first not so subtly mentioned the idea of setting you up on a date, it was with a faux air of disinterest that you had masterfully pried the details out of him. Namjoon has a friend, he said, a friend who was kinda sorta attached to his hip. And while Namjoon loved the kid, he also thought this friend could use some social interaction outside of Namjoon.

Now you and Namjoon weren’t exactly the most conventional of friends for him to be proposing blind dates to you at whim. He was your senior at school, your mentor in your scholarship program, an educated man studying for his masters. So when he’d first uttered the words you were immediately on the fence. Sure, the two of you knew each other well and probably got along better than most mentor-mentee pairings among your year, but you doubt Namjoon knew enough of your tastes to offer you up for a blind date.

According to Namjoon, his friend was a kid in the same year as you, making him not so much as a kid as he was your classmate. You brushed it off at first, spewing some bullshit excuse that you’d rather focus on your studies, and how dating was a distraction to your education, as if you hadn’t spent the weekend prior binge watching some Spanish novella while you dutifully ignored your essay.

The second time Namjoon mentions it you agree on the spot. Life on campus could only be interesting for so long, so you might as well make the best of it and go on as many stupid dates as possible.

Namjoon is over the moon.

He tells you he’ll pass your phone number on over to that friend of his—“Jeon Jungkook”—and promises you you won’t regret this because his friend was amazing, really. And for Namjoon to sing his praises for just any underclassmen was unheard of. In fact, besides you, you don’t think Namjoon knows many other students younger than him, and if he did, you hardly doubt he would regard them so highly.

So he gives his friend your number, and so ends your weekly meeting with your mentor. You only realize on the walk back to your dorm that you forgot to ask him about some club at school, the whole goal of this week’s meeting, but by then you don’t really care, the whole conversation fading into the background.

In fact, you forget about the whole ordeal until Friday night rolls around and you’re once again, binge watching another novella on your laptop, when your phone suddenly vibrates.

You were by no means a loser at school, a friendless nobody, but you were also not the outgoing, school-spirited student on the front page of your school’s website, and thus had nearly every app that could produce a notification on your phone muted, every text thread silenced. The only notifications and messages you allowed were from your email and from your roommate, and considering the fact Doyeon was face down in a puddle of her own mid-semester tears right across from you, it was probably your email.

Much to your surprises, it isn’t that “Monday’s Class is CANCELLED” email you were hoping for, but instead some unknown number in a text notification. You roll your eyes, click it open thinking it’s a reminder from some store or from some guy claiming to be from your bank, only to pause at the words written inside the little grey bubble.

hey its jungkook!!! joon gave me your number to I guess ask you on a date soo are you free tmrw night??

The excessive punctuation reminds you a little bit of your kid sister back home and the dorky emails she’ll send you from time to time. It’s with that memory and a smile on your face, that you’re suddenly reminded of what exactly this message is saying. “Oh shit,” you mumble, moving to sit up and reread the text. Doyeon complaining loudly in the background has you reading it twice more before you understand it, and by then there’s a fluttery feeling in your chest.

You were by no means easily swayed by people, but this guy had received praise from Kim Namjoon of all people, so he definitely had some prestige to his name. He doesn’t seem overbearing from this one text he’d sent, but he also didn’t seem completely disinterested.

You try to match his nonchalant energy, letting him know you were in fact free and down to meet him, just to let you know more details.

You won’t lie, there’s a giddy feeling bubbling within you at the prospect of getting all dolled up, hitting the town, pawning a free meal off some unsuspecting college soul, and maybe even hitting it off. It’s been a while since you’ve dated, sue you.

Jeon Jungkook’s response crushes those dreams as well as hurdles you straight into a nightmare.

cool!! was thinking i could cook for us at my place, drink a little wine, maybe Netflix and chill a little bit??

You are blown away by the absolute gall of this man, to butter you up by painting a pretty picture only to reduce you to a mere booty call. The fact he had felt confident enough to say all that within the same sentence blows your mind.

Did this Jeon Jungkook, who you had no idea of what he looked like, who had no idea of what you looked like, seriously just invite you over for some quote unquote Netflix and chill?

Who, in the ever living hell, was this guy who so sleazily invited women over to fuck with no qualms about who they were?

You’re offended that Namjoon would set you up like this, pawn you off to such a greasy friend. But then again, you guess not everyone knows their friends thoroughly, because this Jeon Jungkook flirtatiously inviting your over for some sex sounds nothing like the golden boy Kim Namjoon had raved about earlier this week. You click your phone off, tapping the device against your lips as you ponder how to best rip this jerk to shreds via text.

It’s amidst Doyeon cursing out her statistics teacher that an idea hits you.

Tomorrow was Saturday night, and as far as you knew, you really didn’t have anything else going on for you anyway. You’d take Jeon Jungkook’s offer, let him cook you a free meal and drink some of his wine. He mentioned having his own place, and vaguely you remember Namjoon saying he lived alone, hence his introverted tendencies, so you could slip in and out without doing that walk of shame through a boy’s dorm hall.

Not that there would be anything to feel shameful about. In fact, if you planned things right, you could rain down your raging displeasure on Jeon Jungkook right after the meal but before this proposed ‘Netflix and chilling,’ maybe dramatically throw your glass of wine at him, before storming out of his place and reporting him to the authorities (Namjoon) for his douchebag personality.

Ha! That would certainly teach the asshole not to use his poor, unsuspecting friends to reel in nice girls like you into one night stands.

You could practically feel the devil horns begging to poke out of your skull, the forked tail wiggling behind you, as you click your phone back on and text Jeon Jungkook a great!! what’s your address :)

——

Saturday morning and afternoon are as boring as they usually are. You do a little homework, and spend thirty minutes filling Doyeon in on your master plan, which she eats up and even gives you some pointers—“and then you can be like, ‘you sick freak, as if I’d let you near this 5-star, Michelin reviewed, Gordon Ramsey approved coochie’ and throw the whole plate at his head!”—before getting ready for your little date at Jeon Jungkook’s.

You try hard to look good, harder than you would have if he hadn’t offended you by reducing you to a booty call, and Doyeon helps. She does your eyebrows all nice and natural, dusts the thinnest shin of liquid highlighter across the high points of your face, the whole shebang until you’re looking like a sexy, glowing goddess. You shimmy into a pretty dress, nothing too fancy nor too casual, and even pull on those strappy sandals you’d bought on sale last winter before blowing a kiss to Doyeon and meeting your Uber downstairs.

You don’t quite remember what the reason behind Jeon Jungkook living in such a swanky neighborhood a few minutes from campus was, if it was from a job you vaguely recall Namjoon mentioning, or if it was just purely hereditary, but his place is nice. It’s a connected townhouse, something you’d expect a newly wed couple to live in and not some douchebag third year.

Worse comes to worse, you get banned from this rich neighborhood after humiliating one of its residents in his own home, not that you’d ever make it big enough to live here anyway.

You’d texted Namjoon sometime that morning to let him know you were meeting his friend, an ominous text with an even more ominous smiley face attached to it. But it seems Namjoon is easily blinded by underclassmen he trusts, if Jeon Jungkook’s assholish feats and your own suspicious behavior is anything to go by, because he texts you back a polite have fun! he’s a little shy, so it might take a while for the ball to start rolling hahahaha.

Shy my ass, you think closing the door of your Uber behind you. You double check the address that had been texted to you, walking up to the neat townhouse and knocking against the polished door.

It’s a little chilly, and you hope finding an Uber is easier later tonight when you make your grand escape. It’s between these thoughts that the door swings open, revealing the most handsome man you’ve ever met.

He’s attractive, disgustingly so, with dark hair and light brown tips to contrast, tickling his cheekbones. His dark eyes are round and imploring as they meet yours, gaze almost innocent and doe like as he takes you in. He’s got this soft, blue turtleneck on, and it looks like it should be a seasonal sweater reserved for the holidays but he pulls it off nicely on this premature spring night. His pretty pink lips move, and it takes you a second to realize he’s talking.

“___?” He says, and his voice is deep, yet soft in its own unique way. You nod, like a stupid bobble head, because your throat constricted the moment this beautiful angel opened the door. “It’s cold outside, come in!” He urges you, out stretching his palm to make sure you don’t trip over the slight step up the door as he brings you into his home.

“Hi,” he exhales when you’re finally inside, standing a little too close to you in his small entryway.

“Hi,” you finally choke out, a little dazed by how handsome he is, and the sudden realization that you’re supposed to throw your glass of wine at him tonight because he’s a douchebag dawns on you. You blink yourself out of your stupor, taking a step back and gesturing towards your sandal clad feet.

“Oh!” Jeon Jungkook exclaims at the sudden realization. “I forgot to set out a pair of slippers for you,” he sheepishly admits, before he excuses himself to go get some. There’s a tiny ottoman pushed against the wall, beneath a long mirror, that you take a seat on it, carefully unstrapping your sandals.

All the while, you’re deep in thought.

It makes sense that someone like Jeon Jungkook was so forward in inviting you over for sex during your first interaction. Realistically speaking, the guy had it all. He lived alone in a swanky townhouse in a wealthy neighborhood (you finally remember Namjoon saying he did some app developing for major companies—yeah, still in college but already making it big because he was that good), and looked like the blueprint for the perfect man, someone who’d impress your parents. On top of that, the man was was a 21st century Adonis. You hadn’t missed the flash of ink on his knuckles, or the way his jeans had hugged his legs.

He’s making his way back now, inspecting the slippers in his hands, and you don’t miss the way the jeans are pulled taut around his thighs in particular.

Yeah, he definitely knew his way around a woman’s body, there was no way he couldn’t have.

You slip your feet into the slippers he places before you, wiggling your toes around, before glancing back at Jungkook. He smiles warmly, a little beauty mark beneath his lip making itself known. He takes your hand, pulls you up onto your feet, and begins guiding you down the hall and to what you assume is the kitchen.

“I didn’t know what you liked, and I figured asking you three hours before you came over would be too awkward,” he laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. He glances at you again, and upon seeing your inquisitive stare, quickly turns away with flushed cheeks.

Oh this man knew the game, and he knew it well.

Jeon Jungkook still thinks he can play that cute campus boy being set up by his senior card now, after he’d shown you his true colors last night via text. But he has a big storm coming. As much as you could admit he was good to look at, you would not be fooled by some pretty face and tasty food. No, you came here with one goal and one goal only, and that was to give Jeon Jungkook a piece of his own two-faced medicine before running off to tattle to Namjoon.

You reach the kitchen and the heavenly smell of Alfredo sauce swarms your nostrils. “I… I’m still new to cooking, so I hope you don’t mind some Alfredo pasta,” he admits, shy smile adorning his features as he avoids your gaze once again to toy with the dish towel by the sink.

You creep closer to the counter, where two meticulously presented ceramic plates sit beside a wine bottle, and the glands in your mouth suddenly go into overdrive in their rush to make you salivate, and you choke out an overly eager, “it looks amazing!” before you know it.

Okay, you came here with two goals.

——

Jungkook carries the two bowls in his big hands to the dining room beside the kitchen, and you follow behind with the bottle of wine and two glasses as you set the table together. The utensils are already there, but Jungkook runs back into the kitchen anyway to return with some fancy cloth napkins for the two of you.

Just as you're tugging a chair out to sit, Jungkook beats you to it. “Ah, let me,” he smiles, and your heart thunders nervously in your chest as you return the expression, brushing your hands beneath you before sitting down and letting him push you in. Jungkook takes his own seat in front of you, and before you can dig in he calls out to seemingly nobody, “Alexa, dim the dining room lights.”

The overhead lights dim, and with their overbearing glow gone, you can finally appreciate the battery powered candles snuggled neatly into a little bowl on the table between you two. You ooh appreciatively, and Jungkook looks proud of himself.

Then, he says, “Alexa, play…Date Night Playlist.”

You blink, and a soft piano tune begins filtering through a speaker he’s hidden somewhere in the room. Even with the fake candles being your main source of light, the flush on Jungkook’s cheeks is evident as he gestures towards you to eat.

You won’t lie. Jeon Jungkook was extremely endearing.

This much becomes evident the further you get into the meal. As small talk devolves into full fledged conversations and story telling, his shy demeanor slipping away but still sticking to the edges of his personality, you begin to have a more difficult time connecting this Jungkook to the one who had less than 24 hours ago asked you to come over and “Netflix and chill” with him.

But the more you speak, the more distant that image begins to feel. For one, Jungkook does put on a fairly reserved aura for you, telling you about his job but refusing to brag about it even when you egg him on. He has no qualms gassing up his friends, Namjoon in particular, who Jungkook claims is his role model for some unknown reason, given the fact they are neither in the same major nor in any of the same clubs. They’re friends, point blank period, but Namjoon is very obviously a star in Jungkook’s eyes.

Additionally, he’s quite embarrassed to admit why Namjoon had been so set on getting Jungkook to date, but eventually tells you it’s because Jungkook’s last girlfriend had been during your freshman year—two whole years ago! It makes you wonder what he’d been doing since then, if he’d used the time to fully invest in his work or if he’d been mingling around, unbeknownst to his friends, which would explain the flirtatious offer that landed you here.

Still, a part of you refuses to believe last night’s Jungkook and tonight’s Jungkook were one in the same, and if they were, what had made this shy man so unabashedly invite you over for some sex. Was this act all a ploy? Or maybe, was he purposefully trying to ward you away by coming off as a gentleman now that he’d seen your face and wasn’t interested in you anymore?

Apparently it’s neither of the two, and you don’t realize this until you finish your meal and make your way into his living room to finally get down to the long awaited Netflix and chilling. It’s only when you sit down on the couch, smack dab in the middle, because at this point, you’re not gonna throw your wine at Jeon Jungkook like you planned, he was too nice. And if this niceness was an act to get in your panties, you didn’t care at this point. He was hot, achingly so, and at least you’d get a good fuck out of it.

But as you said, apparently not. Because Jeon Jungkook sees you purposefully take up the entire middle of the couch, sultry eyes staring him down, and decides to sit flush against the armrest, somehow leaving a good foot between the two of you, despite the fact you’re sitting next to each other.

Your brain can’t work fast enough to comprehend the situation, before he’s asking you what you want to watch. “Um,” you say, pointedly staring at him and not the screen. “Tr-Transformers?”

The way Jungkook’s eyes light up is insane, already round eyes nearly popping out of their sockets as he eagerly rushes to select it from whatever streaming service he has, probably not even Netflix, all the while chattering on about how much he loves that series, and is so glad you do too.

The whole time, you’re struck by the oddness of his casual tone, the way he’s overly invested in the 20th Century Fox opening, and how he’s very carefully avoiding intruding in on your personal space.

The last point in particular has you wanting to pull your hair out, because you want Jeon Jungkook intruding in on your personal space. You want him pressed so tightly against you you can’t breathe, you can’t move, until you’re drowning in him as he finally lives up to his promise of some Netflix and chill, because you want him, and you want him so. very. bad.

“Oh, I forgot the popcorn!” Jungkook exclaims, and you jump at the sudden volume of his voice, because he’d been pretty silent as he avidly watched the first few minutes of the movie. “Sorry,” he chuckles, and his leg brushes against yours as he shuffles between you and the coffee table on his way out. You vaguely hear the popping of the popcorn in the kitchen, but you’re too distracted by your suddenly overwhelming thoughts.

Okay, one thing was for sure, and that was that Jeon Jungkook definitely had no fucking idea what the phrase Netflix and chill meant, because the way he’d zeroed in on the movie and the popcorn, and not you, was unheard of on such invitations. You deduce he probably heard it somewhere, and, now understanding the true nature of Jungkook’s sweet and shy personality, made no such perverted connection to the phrase.

Which meant he most definitely did not demean you to a mere booty call, like you��d deluded yourself into believing, someone he could hump and dump with no regrets, before calling Namjoon up to thank him. Which meant he’d had no ulterior motives in meeting you tonight, just planning to get to know you at the suggestion of his friend, and had—unbeknownst to him—successfully wooed you thus far.

Which was great! If you turned a blind eye to the evil, conniving plans you’d made without even meeting the guy, and the subsequent flood of self-inflicted disapproval when you realized Jeon Jungkook was a sweetheart who definitely did not deserve having a glass of wine thrown at his face after making you a home cooked meal and giving you the full Olive Garden experience, with his dimmed lights and candlelit dinner and piano music on the background.

Yeah. Perfectly fine.

The only problem now was that you had become so dangerously smitten with the man that you wanted to sleep with him. You wanted that Netflix and chill, needed it like it was the last slot in a daycare class and you were a soccer mom of five wanting to get at least one kid out of the house for the summer for the sake of her own sanity. You were desperate.

No, you scold yourself. This was fine, this was good, this was perfectly okay. If anything, this just further made you enamored with Jungkook, because it proved how gentlemanly he was by not trying to sleep with you on the first date.

But that didn’t mean he didn’t want to, the devil on your shoulder crooned.

The microwave in the kitchen stops, and you hear the sound of cabinets opening as Jungkook pours the popcorn into a bowl. On screen, the main character is meeting a bunch of giant cars-turned-robots, you don’t fucking know.

But the devil was right.

Jungkook hadn’t offered to sleep with you, but that didn’t mean he didn’t want to. Furthermore, that didn’t mean he couldn’t be seduced into wanting to, your evil brain suggested, and the hope that had slithered it’s way into your chest from the very moment Jungkook had opened the door, took that fact and ran with it.

“What’d I miss?” Jungkook says when he returns, popcorn bowl in hand.

“Oh, um, he was with the car,” you offer, trying to stop the nefarious smirk from slipping onto your features. Jungkook laughs, cute and airy as he shuffles past you.

He’s too absorbed in the screen, not looking as he sits down, closer than last time until his thigh brushes yours and he jerks back in embarrassment. “Oh, sorry,” he flounders, goes to move away but you act fast.

You grab onto his upper arm with both of yours like an octopus, keeping him flush to you as you gaze up at him with wide eyes. “No, it’s okay,” you rush to assure him, loosening your hold as he tentatively relaxes beside you. You glance down at the popcorn bowl in his hand, swiping a piece to pop between your lips. “It’s easier for us this way,” you say, and you’re pulling that straight out of your ass, because you hate popcorn and have literally zero desire for it and wouldn’t have reached for it anyway if you weren’t trying to convince him this was all for popcorn sharing purposes.

Jungkook’s eyes briefly flicker down to where you’re munching on that popcorn, your lips, before he’s quickly averting his gaze. “Ah, y-yeah,” he agrees, and though he tries to relax back into the couch, you can still feel the tension of his muscles as he settles beside you.

With his eyes no longer trained on you, you snuggle closer into his side resting your cheek against the soft material covering his shoulder, finally letting that devious smirk slip onto your face. You keep yourself close to Jungkook, loving the way his warmth permeates the thick sweater he’s wearing, even if he’s still overly into the movie. You know he’s seen it before, because he keeps telling you random tidbits like, “they use this in the next movie!” Or “he ends up becoming really important in the sixth movie,” and you want to listen to this endearing nerd’s commentary, you really do, but once your brain is stuck on horny, it is stuck on horny.

He doesn’t even eat a lot of popcorn, setting it down not ten minutes later onto the coffee table. You release him as he moves forward, but quickly latch onto him again when he sits back down.

Much to your surprise, Jungkook is way more relaxed then, shrugging you off to rest his hand on the couch behind you, and you inwardly squeal at the prospect of getting to cuddle up to his body, and not just his arm. You cuddle in close to him, leaving your slippers on the ground as you tuck your legs up onto the couch cushions.

Jungkook is so warm and firm, and you know it’s your horny brain speaking, but you swear you feel a tight set of abs underneath the palm you rest on his stomach, and you give an experimental brush over the area. His heart picks up, you hear it by where your head is leaning against his chest, and you tilt your head up to give him a curious glance. His cheeks are red, and he doesn’t look at you even though you know he sees you, so you decide to kick things up a notch.

You sigh loudly, peeling yourself away from him to properly level him with a pout. “Jungkook, aren’t you hot in this?” You ask, pinching the wooly material between two fingers and pulling it from his skin. Jungkook finally looks away from the screen, nibbling his lower lip as he takes in your quizzical expression.

“Um, only a little… but it’s fine!” He rushes to say, and you recall from your conversations over dinner that Jungkook doesn’t much like people fussing over him, so you quickly change gears.

You press a hand against your cheek, the same one that had been resting against his shoulder earlier. “Oh, well… it’s really itchy,” you announce, and his eyes widen, one hand absentmindedly reaching to clutch the material at his chest. “It’s making me really itchy,” you emphasize, and part of you feels bad for taking advantage of his caring nature, but this is all for the greater good, you convince yourself. “Do you mind taking it off?”

“I, uh, yeah,” he agrees, reaching for the hem of his sweater before carefully peeling it off. When he pulls it over his head, you can’t help the triumphant grin that overtakes your face, though you quickly mask it when he finally frees himself from the material. “Better?” He says once he’s clad in only a plain black shirt.

“Mm, much,” you sigh, and nearly soak your panties then and there when a tattooed sleeve comes into view. “Woah!” You exclaim, snatching his wrists up to examine his skin. “What’s this?” You marvel, tracing every inch of delicious skin with your predatory gaze. Jungkook huffs out a laugh, and you glance up to watch as he rubs the back of his neck in that same embarrassed way he’d done multiple times throughout your night together.

“My tattoos,” he says, and then seems to realize the simplicity of his statement and rushes to add to it, “I hope you don’t mind?”

You hum, shifting onto your knees to face him as you continue tracing over a huge tiger lily by his forearm. “Why would I? It’s your body,” you say, and watch the nervous glance melt off his face as he regards you with something new. Something akin to wonder as he lets you trace over more of his ink, nodding along to your words.

“Yeah… yeah!” He agrees, and you grin at his sudden zeal. He chuckles, physically relaxing beneath your touch, and it’s probably the most relaxed he’s been all night as you continue rubbing your hands over every tattoo on his skin, and then purposefully focusing on the ones near his bicep. “Sorry, ‘m just used to people pushing off their own opinions about them onto me,” he explains, and for a moment, the horniness that had been fueling you all night fades away, and you let your hands trail down, past his wrist, until you’re sandwiching his hand between yours.

“Fuck what anyone else thinks,” you tell him, eyes hard as you imagine anyone imposing their stupid thoughts on Jungkook, who was too good for this world. “If you think they’re cool, then they're the coolest thing in the world.”

He smiles at you, and you’ve seen this smile about a million times tonight—when you first came in, when you talked about yourself at dinner, when you mentioned this stupid movie—but it has something swelling in your chest. Something too intimate for a first date, so you quickly move to repress it.

Glancing down at his hand in yours, littered with smaller tattoos across his knuckles, your brain whirls into action. Bringing it up between the two of you, you turn his hand over to line your palms up. “Wow, your hands are so big,” you sigh, slowly reverting back to dirty thoughts as you twist yours and Jungkook’s hands this way and that. He snorts, bends the tips of his fingers over yours just to hear you ooooh again.

“Yeah, they’re pretty big,” he agrees, completely ignoring the film playing on the screen, which is a huge win in your eyes considering how deeply he’d been watching it earlier.

Finally, you see an opening and pounce.

“Well, that means something else is pretty big too,” you murmur, chancing a glance up at his face. His face is the perfect definition of composed, and you can tell when exactly he processes your words because those little pink lips part in surprise, red slowly filling the apples of his cheeks. You let go of his palm, letting it slide between your fingers until it falls limp beside him.

Jungkook watches you with wide eyes, as you raise yourself up onto your knees. “Jungkook?” You mumble, giving him no warning before you’re throwing a leg across his lap, knees pressed into the couch on either side of his thighs.

“Y-Yes?” He stutters, brown hair falling away from his face as he stares up at you. You flash him a sweet smile, and you can tell it relaxes him because his fists unclench beside him.

“You’re a really nice boy,” you sigh, and when you’ve scooted your knees a little closer to his ridiculously thin waist, you finally let yourself sit. You find yourself right before his crotch, which he desperately tries to hide as he shifts around, but can’t with you on top of him. You let your hands flutter to rest at his shoulders, and he gulps. “You’re so sweet and cute,” you add, relish in the flush that climbs up to his ears. “But I’m a little sad you invited me over to Netflix and chill, but won’t do just that,” you pout, a finger tangling itself in a soft strand at the back of his head.

“Huh?” He stutters, eyes nearly bulging out when you wiggle around again. “I-I’m sorry?” He huffs, and when you move too close to his crotch, where his jeans are slowly growing more and more strained, he panics and reaches a hand out to steady your waist.

You feign confusion, flashing him another pout as you duck closer until your noses bump against each other. “You know what it means, don’t you, Jungkook?” You inquire, eyes falling dangerously lidded as you swallow up every inch of his appearances.

He stutters, hands moving up and down as if he doesn’t know where to put them anymore. But you know exactly where Jungkook can put those hands, and you waste no time catching his wrists in your hands to guide him towards your hips. “No?” He breathes, fingers flexing against you, and you smile sweetly at him.

“It means,” you purr, shifting forward until you’re flush against where you need him most. You can barely contain the whimper that climbs out of your throat when you finally feel the rough material of his jeans against your panties. “It means you wanna fuck, Jungkook,” you exhale, tossing your head back as your body basks in the slight reprieve, the way Jungkook squirms beneath you aiding greatly in providing that sensation you craved.

“It’s nothing more than an excuse,” you huff, placing a hand on the back of his neck to steady yourself. At your touch, Jungkook jolts, thighs jumping beneath you and you stifle another groan when the zipper of his jeans prods against your core. “For you to fuck my brains out while some s-stupid movie plays in the background.”

You’re not sure when, but sometime during that last explanation your hands had fully delved into the thick tresses of Jungkook’s hair. You give an experimental tug, and poor Jungkook, so lost in all that you’re telling him, lolls his head back for you easily until the long expanse of his neck is available, soft creamy skin yours for the taking.

You pounce, kissing the skin gently at first, before sprinkling in a handful of nibbles. He’s sensitive, devastatingly so, as he gasps at a particular suck. You suction your lips on the spot below his ear, carefully biting down on the skin as he unravels beneath you. “Will you do it, Jungkookie?” You murmur against the shell of his ear,

He nods eagerly, and his fingers hurt where he’s pressed them deep into your waist, like he’s trying to brand you as his with his mere strength alone. “Y-Yes,” he exhales, hips jerking when you swipe your tongue over the pretty mark you’d left on his perfect skin.

You smother your smirk against his neck, grinding down on him once again. “Yes what?” You tease, and let his strong hands roll you against him afterwards.

“Yes, I-I’ll…” he stumbles, eyes dazed as he watches you through hooded lids. You raise a brow at him, shifting in his lap. It’s enough to kickstart him back up, and he’s biting down on his lip hard enough to draw blood. “I’ll fuck you, I’ll fuck you just like you want,” he rambles. He surprises you when he begins rutting up against you, so animalistic and uncontrolled, nothing like the sweet Jungkook that had indulged you over dinner. “I’ll make you come, p-promise,” he rasps.

You smirk down at him, hoping he doesn’t see the metaphorical horns sticking out of your head the further he falls into your trap. Before he can say anything else, you surge forward, slotting your mouths together for the first time that night.

It’s no surprise that Jungkook kisses just like he speaks, carefully like he’s afraid one hard press of his lips will ward you off. His lips are smooth, a fact you’d hyper-fixated on all night as he spoke, but before you can ponder on that any further, something hot and wet is prodding at your lower lip.

The gasp you barely manage to contain ends up escaping anyway when Jungkook’s hand comes up to cup the side of your face, tilting your head to the side as his tongue slithers into your mouth. You become obsessed with the way he touches you, every bit the gentlemen he’d been all night, fingers just barely pressing into your cheek like he doesn’t want to mess up your makeup. His other hand, snuggly wrapped around your waist, pulls you tighter against him until your chests are pressed together.

And that tongue. That tongue of his that leaves no room for argument, quickly shutting down any attempts of yours to overtake him. He’s graceful about it too, one nudge enough to convince you he’s got this, he’ll take care of you. You whimper, a sound Jungkook swallows before he’s biting down on your lower lip.

When he pulls away, his lips are red and glossy, and you wonder if yours are too. “Fuck, you’re so pretty,” he sighs, gazing at you like he can’t believe you’re there in front of him.

Before you can say anything else, he’s burying his face in the crook of your neck to brush kisses over your skin. “Let me eat you out,” he begs, but his voice is so silky and smooth that it doesn’t sound so much as a plea as much as it does a suggestion. He licks a stripe up your neck, and you jump in his hold.

It’s at this moment where the sudden realization hits you, the feeling of having the reins yanked out of your hands. You so vividly controlled every aspect of Jungkook just a few moments ago, when you’d had your own mouth on his neck, and carefully coaxed him into some sex.

But it seems Jeon Jungkook isn’t as soft or as pliable as you had dubbed him to be, and if the way he’s begun subtly rolling your hips into his crotch is any sign, he certainly wasn’t the submissive type either. Which leaves you wondering, exactly what type of person was Jungkook in bed?

Well, you had all night to figure that out.

“Hey,” he whines suddenly, ripping you out of your thoughts. You glance down at him, registering the bored set of his eyes and the unimpressed quirk of his lips. “Pay attention to me.”

You blink, lips twitching. You can barely muffle the giggle that tears itself from your throat, leaning your forehead on his shoulder as your body shakes at his suddenly childish words. Jungkook chuckles too, as if suddenly realizing how out of place his own statement was. “Sorry,” he smiles, cheeks pleasantly rosy and you can’t even stop yourself from kissing him silly.

Jungkook, bless his heart, let’s you rain down a good three kisses on him before he’s pushing you down on the couch beside him. There’s still a slight gleam in his eyes, but the rest of his face schools itself into a hungry expression as he drinks in your body laid out before him. “Let me eat you out?” He asks again, voice but a soft whisper.

You nod, heart beating loudly in your chest as he shuffles down until he can press a kiss to the tops of your thighs. He hasn’t even done anything that intense yet, but you already feel the muscles in your leg ready to spasm just from his proximity.

He’s mouthing at your skin, nudging your legs apart, and you, usually so confident in your sexuality, can’t find the courage to look at him as he so lovingly carries out his ministrations.

As if sensing your sudden bout of shyness (you! shy! Doyeon was gonna tease you about this for the rest of your life once you recapped this for her), he places a soft kiss just below where the hem of your dress begins, before pulling back and uttering, “this okay?”

You hum in response, face warm from just imagining how good he must look down there, peppering your skin with kisses. Your heart nearly rips itself out of your chest when a strong set of fingers wraps around your wrist suddenly, sliding over and around your hand until he’s tangled them with yours.

At this, you nearly break your neck trying to look at him, only to be met with an amused smile. Jungkook gives your hand a squeeze, and you barely get to appreciate the schoolgirl flood of emotions in your chest, when suddenly his free hand comes out of left field, cupping the back of your knee to push your legs further apart, before gliding across the expanse of your thigh to push your dress up.

If Jungkook holding your hand was enough to make your heart skip a beat, Jungkook pressing a chaste kiss to your panty-clad mound was enough to send you into cardiac arrest. Your leg twitches at the sudden touch, a gasp catching in your throat at the delicate path he kisses over your panties, until he’s flicking his tongue over your clit. “Oh,” you moan, and against your better judgment, your free hand is tangling itself in his silky strands.

Jungkook smirks, what sounds like a tiny chuckle muffled as he continues mouthing along your sex, until your panties are soaked both from your arousal and his saliva. Your little thong stares him in the face, and he groans at the sight, glancing up at you with those wide eyes of his like you’re his entire world. “Can I?”

Jungkook gives your clit one final kiss, before he lets go of your hand, and you can’t help the whine that leaves you upon the lost contact. Jungkook eats it up, pressing a kiss turned smile against your knee as he tugs your underwear down. It coils up as it goes, until he’s pulling a tightly twisted maroon thong off your ankles, and tossing it off somewhere behind him.

If his mouth felt good through your panties, it feels even better without. You mewl when he brushes his lips over your clit, plush lips working your sensitive bundle of nerves, sly tongue occasionally creeping out to toy with you further. “Jungkook,” you cry out, back arching. He licks and slurps likes he’s a starved man, and you're the first meal he’s ever had. You want to sob from how good it feels, his tongue flicking over your bud like he just can’t get enough.

He pulls away to catch your gaze, doesn’t let it go as he runs a lone finger over your slit, coating the digit in your own arousal, before carefully plunging it into your warm, wet heat. “Is this good?” He rasps out, watching your facial expressions carefully as he wiggles his finger deeper into your core, his other hand wrapped around your thigh to keep you still. You moan, feeling like a boneless heap of organs beneath this insanely handsome man who can’t keep his hands off your quivering pussy.

His fingers don’t let up, slowly pulling out before plunging back in. The room fills with disgustingly wet sounds, but that fact drifts to the back of your head the faster his fingers go. Your eyes roll into your head, your body twitching with each press of his fingers.

“Is it good, pretty?” He repeats, and since you’re not looking at him anymore, the sudden lick against your clit has your back arching and your thighs quivering with surprise. “Tell me it’s good, ___,” Jungkook croons, and you nod in a hurry.

“It’s good!” You cry, moaning loudly when he slips another finger into you, scissoring the two inside of you. “It’s so good, Jungkook—y-you’re so good,” you moan, and nearly cry actual tears when he curls his fingers inside of you, pressing down against the most sensitive spot within you.

Jungkook doesn’t let up, continues licking and slurping against your sensitive bud, even when your orgasm hits and you’re begging him to stop. He doesn’t let you go until he feels the warmth coat his fingers, feels the wetness begging to seep out of your plugged pussy. He lets you go then, only to move closer to your hole and replace his fingers with his mouth. There, he carefully catches and collects the cum that trickles out, mouth warm against your trembling body.

Your body quivers with each long drag of his tongue over your sensitive cunt, and you’re about to ask him to stop, when he finally pulls away and pushes himself over you, arms caging you in as he stares down at your withered form. “Kiss,” you manage to gasp out, and Jungkook raises an eyebrow in question. “Kiss me,” you repeat, and then, thoughtfully, “please.”

Jungkook complies, leans down to connect your mouths in a sweet kiss. You’re blinded by the delicacy of it all, that you in no way see coming the sudden substance that slides down your throat from his own. You choke at the sudden intrusion, belatedly realizing it’s your cum he’s pushing down your throat, the cum he didn’t swallow.

“That’s it, pretty,” Jungkook croons, licking up the residual come that hadn’t made it into your mouth. “See how you taste for me. Isn’t it sweet?” He murmurs, pushing his tongue into your mouth as if he regretted not saving any for himself. It’s the first time you’ve had your own pleasure in your mouth, so you’re not exactly sure how to feel. What you do feel is the overwhelming surge of arousal at seeing Jungkook rave about it and lap it up inside your own mouth.

He kisses you for a few moments, mouth moving languidly along yours. One hand reaches down to rub soothingly at your inner thigh, like he’s coaxing the feeling back into your body after lulling you into one of the most heavenly orgasms of your entire life. You whimper when he bites down on your lower lip, like you’re still too sensitive to reciprocate, but Jungkook doesn’t mind. He lets you go, licks over where he’d bitten like an apology.

After a few minutes of just this, of feeling like the most cherished girl in the entire world, Jungkook finally pulls away and levels you with a dashing smile. “All good?” He asks, hands still trailing up your waist until they’re framing the swell of your breasts, where he gently circles your nipple.

You nod, dazedly staring up at him and it’s at this exact moment that you realize there’s something stiff poking at your hip. You glance down, and Jungkook glances down with you, until you’re both staring at the hard on he’s hiding beneath his jeans. Jungkook chuckles, low and dark by your ear as he experimentally presses it against you.

Before you can stop yourself, your hand is untangling itself from around his shoulders and slithering down his front. You cup his erection, his shaky exhale giving you the courage to toy with his belt buckle until it’s undone and you're battling with the button on his jeans instead. You put up a good fight, but in the end the angle is too tight for you to properly undo it, and Jungkook brushes your hands away with a soft kiss to your lips.

He pushes himself off you, and you’re immediately craving the warm press of his body against yours the second he’s gone. “Get that dress off for me, pretty girl,” he says, pulling his shirt over his head, rendering you completely speechless as you gawk at his body. Jungkook glances down at you as he goes to undo his pants, a shapely brow raising in your direction and a soft quirk of his lips gesturing for you to do as you’re told.

You spur into action, wiggling the dress up and over your breasts until you’re pulling it over your head and letting it drop beside you on the floor. You’re just in time to see Jungkook push his jeans down his hips, a classic black Calvin Klein underwear band glaring back at you.

The chance to marvel at Jungkook’s thin waist framed by that tight underwear is gone as quickly as it came, and you’re greeted with an even more mouthwatering sight when he pushes the elastic band down, and that big cock you had alluded to springs out of its confines. You groan, subconsciously rolling your hips into the air as you take in the sight of his cock, mushroom tip swollen and flushed. There’s a thick vein that runs along the underside of it, one you only see when Jungkook grasps his dick in his hand and tugs upward like this isn’t his true form, and he can get bigger.

“Ready?” He asks, biting down on his lip as he continues to stroke himself. You nod, wiggling closer to him until the backs of your thighs rest on top of his, knees knocking against his waist. He grants you one more of those kind smiles, before he’s leaning down to press a hand beside your head, the other lining himself up with your soaked entrance.

Running his cock over your folds one last time, collecting as much of your cum as he can, he brushes a kiss against your cheekbone before he’s pushing in. You moan, throwing your hands around his neck as he pierces through the initial ring of muscle surrounding your warm heat. “Holy shit,” you choke, mouth dropped open as you pant like a dog against his shoulder. “J-Jungkook,” you cry, legs tightening around his waist the closer his body presses against yours.

Once he’s at the hilt, pelvis flush against you, you can’t help the series of whines and mewls that escape your lips from being so comfortably filled to the brim.

To your surprise, Jungkook is the first to speak. “Fuck,” he groans, breath hot against your ear. He sounds fucked out, once silky voice raspy with need as he grinds his hips against you tentatively. “This is what you wanted, isn't it?” He huffs, both hands coming down to wrap around your waist, your back arching under the wonderful hands that find themselves squeezing every inch of your back in an effort to pull you closer.

His mouth brushes against yours from this new position, and Jungkook puckers his lips, tongue coming out to lick at your bottom lip. You nearly cry when he finally pulls his hips away, relieves his cock from your tight heat before surging back in. “Wanted this from the moment you walked in, didn’t you, sweetheart?” Jungkook grunts, repeats the same motion until he’s picked up a steady pace of pushing and pulling, each roll of his hips sending a shock of ecstasy crawling up your spine.

You nod, eyes screwed shut as pleasure warms every inch of your body. It’s even worse to not see, because every sound and every touch is magnified tenfold, until you’re drowning in sensations. Jungkook’s choked groans, the slide of his hips, they all become too much too quickly and you’re choking back a sob.

“Fuck,” he groans, glancing down at your withered form like an animal as he picks up his pace. His hold on you tightens, never letting your body move away from him and he begins jack hammering in his thrusts, swallowing your cries with his lips. “Had me thinking you were a nice girl,” he huffs, and you wonder if he knows how tightly he’s holding you, how this grip will most likely leave you with fingerprint bruises tomorrow morning. But then again, you don’t care. All you care about is Jungkook’s voice and his body, guiding you toward completion. “But all you wanted was a quick fuck.”

You steel yourself to look at him again, and when your eyes finally open and focus, you’re wishing you hadn’t because Jungkook looks so hot over you. His pretty eyes, the ones that had led you into a false sense of comfort throughout the night and tricked you into believing he would be easy to bend to your every whim, are hard now. “Isn’t that right, doll?” He spits, and you whine when he punctuates this question with a particularly brutal thrust of his hips. His balls slap against your ass, and you squirm beneath him as you begin to feel the beginnings of an orgasm build in your core.

“I-I thought—“ you stammer, tone pitched from the way he jostles you with every thrust he gives. “Y-You wanted that,” you weekly defend, canting your hips down in a feeble attempt to progress this along.

He snorts, captures your lips in a rushed kiss where he wastes no time snaking his tongue inside your mouth. His saliva trickles into your mouth, and you whine as he purposefully lets it happen, pulls away just the slightest to pucker his lips and let a thick trail of spit fall straight into your open mouth. Satisfied with his little stunt, he rams his cock against you once more.

“If you wanted a quick fuck,” he says, nearly loses himself in your pussy, “you came to the wrong guy, sweetheart.”

You’re too caught up in the nice drag of his cock against your pussy, the tip of his cock stopping him from ever pulling out completely, that it takes you a second to process his words. “H-Huh?” You choke, teary eyes flickering across his face wildly as if the answer will be right in plain sight.

But all you’re met with is the soft pull of his lips as he flashes you a smirk, pearly white teeth tugging at the pink flesh, as he levels you with a glare of his own. Before you can question him further, he’s letting go of your waist to hike your knees into the crook of his elbows, his pouty lips growing further away as he leans back.

This shift has his cock nudging up, rubbing against the hood of your clit where a bundle of nerves he’d only briefly brushed before sits. You shriek in pleasure, writhing beneath him as the sudden sensation hits you full force. “Jungkook!” You sob, his hips slowing to a grind as he watches your face crumble beneath him.

“You like that?” He murmurs, rutting his hips against you shallowly. The change of pace, the rabid piston of his hips slowing to this, has your body melting into his touch. You barely manage a nod, eyes fluttering open and shut as his hips move sensually against you.

His cock brushes against that sensitive spot with each roll of his hips, and you’re a mewling, puddle of emotion by the third thrust. “Pretty girl,” he hums, letting go of one leg to place a hand above your mound, thumb circling your clit until you’re trembling beneath him. “Did you think I would fuck you and kick you out?” He husks, watching your body like he’s a lion and you’re his prey.

Your brain is far from comprehending anything at this point, reduced to a mere mass of nothingness as he continues moving against you, fingers rubbing your clit in all the right ways.

“Well, you were wrong about that, doll,” he huffs, and you’re blessed with the sight of his head lolling back as he loses himself in the tight grip of your pussy, skin glistening with sweat, trailing from behind his ear and over his neck, until you’re watching a pearl roll over his collarbones. “I don’t do that,” he informs you, and he pinches your clit between two fingers, hard enough that you almost miss his next words as you moan. “No, baby, I’ll fuck you and keep you forever,” he spits, and you whimper at his words. Finally, he lets go of your knees, right as you’re teetering on the edge of an orgasm and you moan out in protest as he ducks down to cage you between his arms again.

“Please,” you beg, voice hoarse as his hips slowly return to their pace from before. He’s still not pulling out as much, keeping his thrusts shallow as he kisses a trail up your neck and over your jaw.

“Gonna fuck you so good, you don’t ever want to leave, pretty,” he says, kisses the corner of your mouth as his hips pick up pace. You wanna cry, feeling so warm and cherished in his arms, his voice telling you how good you’re doing as the coil in your stomach tightens and tightens until you’re begging him for more. “Do you want that?”

“Yes! Yes!” You sob, rolling your hips against his like a madman as you chase your high.

Jungkook hums, smile smushed against your lips as he watches you desperately writhing beneath him. “Yeah? You want that?” You nod, mewls swallowed by his kisses. “Then cum for me, pretty girl.”

You whimper, just as he bucks into you once more, and suddenly you’re falling apart. It starts in your lower back, the ecstasy climbing it’s way through your body until you’re quivering and sobbing in his embrace, muffling your sounds against his shoulder. The muscles in your entire body tighten painfully, until suddenly a wave of contentment washes over you, and you’re too weak to even hold onto him anymore, arms flopping back onto the couch cushions beneath you.

The whole time, Jungkook mutters encouragement against your jaw, keeps his thrusts short but quick, guiding you through your orgasm. When you’re done, he presses an open mouthed kiss beneath your ear, pulling away to look at your boneless frame beneath him.

A few pistons of his hips later, and Jungkook is coming inside of you, cum coating your walls as he hammers his way through his orgasm. He pulls out when he’s done, and you instantly feel your mixed arousal drip out between your thighs.

Woozy from the wine and the two orgasms, you fall asleep soon after.

——

“Good morning,” you murmur, standing at the doorway leading into the kitchen, an area you’d only been able to find after stumbling around the upstairs of the house in confusion.

Jungkook whirls around, wide eyes taking in your appearance. You clutch at the hem of the big t-shirt you’d pulled on, the only article of clothing you saw that was thrown over a chair in a bedroom you didn’t dare snoop around. “Morning,” he exhales, calculating gaze never leaving you as you tiptoe over to him by the counter.

He doesn’t say more, spluttering into action when you peek over his shoulder to see what he’s up to. “What’re you making?” You inquire, and his hands begin fidgeting with the knife.

“Oh, um,” he stutters, and perhaps he’s overly aware of your presence so close beside him, because he suddenly doesn’t remember how he’s supposed to cut an avocado. Cute, you think. “Just, um, toast with avocado spread…”

You hum. After a moment, it seems Jungkook is able to quell his nerves, and he carefully slices the avocado open, spreading its innards across the toast. He hands you the first piece, which you take after masking your own surprise, and soon after he’s turning away from the counter as the two of you eat in silence.

After a few thoughtful munches of bread, you speak. “Thanks for carrying me to bed,” you say, refusing to look at him.

“You’re welcome,” he replies, almost a little too fast and you barely bite down a grin as he rambles on. “Wasn’t gonna leave you on the couch, especially not when you were so tired after… ah, yeah.”

It’s the reserved way he carries himself that gives you the balls to look at him. His ears are flushed adorably red, like when you were at dinner last night talking about his job, and all you wanna do is pinch his cheeks. “Yeah,” you agree, and then add with an air of faux shyness, “you were really cool last night.”

It’s the little devil in you begging to jump out, curious to see how far you can push Jungkook before he shifts into that suave version of himself from last night, and you would feel bad had the corner of his lips not tilted up in amusement.

He chokes out a laugh, mutters a “yeah?” and you don’t stop yourself when you jump into his arms and kiss that avocado spread right off his lips.

——

On Tuesday afternoon, Kim Namjoon is in the midst of delivering another sermon-like speech on the importance of utilizing your student ID when visiting any of the Starbucks within a two mile radius of your school, when you spot a chestnut head of hair from the corner of your eye.

“Sorry, Joon! My ride's here!” You yelp, shoving your notebook into your bag as you stumble over yourself in your haste to leave.

Namjoon blinks. “Huh? I thought you lived on campus?”

You nod, that giddy feeling starting up in your chest as he comes closer to where you and Namjoon have taken up residence on a table in the commons for your weekly meeting, and by the time he reaches the table Namjoon is still in the midst of questioning you.

“Jungkook,” You say, all dreamily and dazed, and you know this because Doyeon caught you with this same exact look on your face after he dropped you off at the dorms Sunday afternoon.

Namjoon startles. “What the f—“

“Hi,” Jungkook beams, leans down to brush a kiss against your cheek, which only serves to make you even more ditzy and dumb in the face of this handsome man. “Oh, hey, hyung.”

“What’re you doi—“

“All set?” Jungkook asks you, completely ignoring whatever his beloved senior was saying in favor of taking your bag off your shoulders. You nod, have to swallow a giggle down when he takes your hand in his. “Bye, hyung.”

“Bye, Joon!” You barely remember to throw over your shoulder, too busy wrapping yourself around Jungkook’s arm to hear Namjoon blabber in shock.

“Kids these days,” he huffs.

[ part 2 ; hulu & woohoo ]

#jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut #goldenclosetnet #ksmutclub #jjk smut #bts smut #mine

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yandere-vale · 3 years

Text

Yandere Planetina Headcanons.

Warning: All the lovely dark things that come out of most yandere content. Thank you!

*I do what I can, but I can't do it alone. I won't do it your way anymore. This isn't for you, it's for me.*

Planetina has has some ups and downs all too recently. Since the mid-90s she'd been summoned to save the environment and subdue eco-villains without any real time to herself. Always focused on her job and being slowly turned into a money making tool for the Tina-Teers/her kids, she had no self of self but always kept her cheery outlook on life. In recent events, she's had the joy of experiencing love, true true love. That was until several things all fell around her and crushed the world that she lived in. The Tina-Teers having been killed off and the first person to ever say they loved her(truly loved her) rejected her love and broke her heart because they 'couldn't handle her'. She's been a mess, finally having to deal with emotions that every other being grows up with. But not her. She never had to deal with them. Left heartbroken and with a twisted sense of both duty and love isn't the ideal mix. But she will make it work, she'll make it work for you.

Planetina has a two-sided personality and both of them sit on a hair-trigger. With the Tina-Teers no longer able to reign her in, she uses her powers as she wishes with zero regard for anyone that happens to be in her way. Planetina has no cap for her emotions and lets them flood in full force with no sign of stopping the overflow. When she's happy she'll be all giggly and wanting to hug you. When she's angry you better stay well out of her way unless you want to be burned by her flames.

Not to say that she would ever hurt you. You need to understand that Planetina loves you and will make this relationship work no matter what. She wants you, no needs you to like and to love her. Your acceptance is all that matters to her in this world. When she's with you, she doesn't have to hear the earth screaming so loudly. When she's with you her violent behavior simmers down into nothing.

That's not to say that you won't be punished for any tantrums you try and pull with her. She won't let you stray from her, no avoiding her, no getting away or keeping things from her. She NEEDS you to love her and to reaffirm that on a daily base. It's common for her to pull you into her arms and won't let go till you tell her what she wants to hear from you. 'I love you Planetina.' She wants to hear you say her name when you say it, so she knows you aren't thinking of something else when you say it.

Planetina doesn't want to wait when it comes to just taking you.If she can she'll kidnap you within the first week of knowing about you. She'll be able to justify her actions to you later, she just needs to have you with her. She won't allow you to reject her. Having her heart broken so thoroughly then suddenly feeling that same warmth when she's around you makes her addicted. Addicted to you. You might of actually spoken to her once or twice, or maybe you only know of her through the tv when watching her stopping a forest fire. Either way she'll take you away from all that could harm you. Not like anyone can stop her that is. She's an elemental construct with no rings to control her actions, do you really think anyone out there could stop her from taking you even if she did so violently.

Planetina will bring you to a place far in the woods or high in the mountains where she had 'acquired' a house trailer for you to live in. She's nice like that and wouldn't have you living in some cave. She loves you too much for that. And it's far enough where running would mean nothing as you couldn't get far from someone who can hear the voice of the earth. Planetina knows where you are if she comes to her little home and you are not there. The earth will tell her just where you've run off to and she'll catch you in no time. And pray that you didn't come across anyone and ask for help. She has no problem burning them alive and telling you how it's all your fault for her having to do this. "I told you to stay home y/n! You should've just listened to me. Now they are dead and it's because of you. All because you decided to try and run away from our loving relationship."

Her punishments depend on what you've done to get her to punish you. If it's nothing too bad then she'll use her words to guilt and demoralise you all the while telling you how much she loves you and that you doing this is pulling her apart. She needs you to know that all of this is your own doing. Even if she is the one keeping you.

If you did something really bad, such as trying to run away from or hitting her. Then I hope you don't mind when she uses her strength to break one of your legs that ran from her or the wrist of the arm used to hit her. She doesn't want to do it, but you have to understand how hurt she felt when you did the things to make her do this to you. Planetina will take care of you after the punishment though, she's great at tending to your wounds and applying aftercare.

If you obey her and listen to her rules then she'll be the perfect girlfriend to you. She loves to cuddle and hold your hands when you both sit together. She'll bring you flowers and anything you ask for if your good. Anything then your freedom that it. You don't need to be free, you aren't trapped. You are safe with her.

When she's home with you she'll take you out of the trailer and go on nature walks with you, showing you all the beauty that the earth has to offer. She has a clearing where she's grown flowers in the shape of your darling face and she'll want to show you. Once their she'll make you flower crowns, bracelets, and necklaces. All the while complimenting you and telling you how beautiful you are, how you are her everything and she does mean it.

Overall I don't see her as a bad yandere as long as you love her back and to to not reject the love that she gives you. She needs things to fall in line and won't accept anything less.

#rick and morty #rick & morty #yandere #female yandere #yandere rick and morty #planetina #yandere planetina #yandere x reader #yandere imagines

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animeyanderelover · 3 years

Text

This was requested from @cruelsummer12

Request: Can I have Hc’s for Machi being a harmless Yandere?

I did not know exactly what you meant with this, but I hope it’s okay with what I did.

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship,kidnapping, harsh and cold behavior, overprotectiveness, degradation

The soft things

🪡Machi is a bit hard to deal with, especially at the beginning. She just didn’t know how to act with her feelings at the beginning, making her stray away from her s/o, thinking that it might just be a very strong crush at first. She can be seen as very harsh and cold, it’s just how she is. But people tend to forget several things when looking at her.

🪡She is naturally cold, but she has her own subtle love language and whilst she was at the beginning a bit more stiff with the whole relationship thing, she warmed over time incredibly up. She isn’t really touchy nor is she someone to praise, she relies more on acts on services and the smaller things that might look insignificant to others.

🪡Machi doesn’t kidnap her darling, at least not until they either try to break up with her and she can’t stop them or they find out what she really is and there is the danger of her darling telling others. That would mean her darling would have to be killed and that’s something Machi doesn’t want. This is already a very big sign of respect since there are other people in the Phantom Troupe who won’t be that nice to grant their darling a normal life. Deep down Machi knows that her life is messed up and dangerous and she doesn’t want the same for her darling if it can be avoided.

🪡She’s very distant which can be seen as negative, but it can also be seen in another way. Because Machi is, despite sometimes really being harsh with her words, a quite respectful Yandere. She doesn’t monopolizes your time nor does she force you into telling her anything. It’s maybe because she is that way as well, she needs her own space and has also things she doesn’t talk about. The thing that she lets her darling for long periods alone without kidnapping them or watching them should be already identified of how much she really has faith in her s/o.

🪡Next to that she can be very harsh and hurtful with her words, but she would never really lay a hand on you unless she is really triggered. She’s also extremely loyal to her darling and would never even dare of cheating and expects the same from her darling as well. Machi also wouldn’t let you be friends with someone she thinks off as toxic or dangerous. She hates such persons who only use you and will scare such people away from you, even getting rid of them if she has too.

🪡Whilst not very talkative, Machi is more of a great listener than some people think. She really prefers it if her darling does all the talking and she just listens even though she will occasionally engage as well. This can be seen as not good, but it is if you think about it. If you really need someone to listen and feel like no one will really hear you out, Machi is there. She will listen, won’t interrupt you and comfort you, even though a bit awkwardly, afterwards. She is a shoulder to cry on and will give her darling afterwards some advices on how to handle this better. She might be strict, but that’s because she cares and she isn’t used to being all emotional.

🪡This can be in certain events an advantage as well. Machi stands her ground and whilst she knows that you aren’t perfect, no one is, she found several other things she likes and even likes you for your flaws. And for that she can confidently say in someone’s face if that person should happen to insult you, that you might not be perfect, but she wouldn’t have it any other way. The perfect human is a fairy tail, a ridiculous one, anyways. She doesn’t want someone perfect. She wants you just as you are.

🪡Machi is also nurturing. She isn’t above being very snippy when her darling should cut themself or hurt themself in another way. She definitely is someone who would in a rather dry tone scold her darling for being so carefree and not paying more attention. They’re such an airhead. But she also will never miss out on sewing whatever wounds or cuts they might have gotten. And she’ll be thoroughly when she does, after all she cares a lot about your well-being.

🪡She also often sews her darling stuff, especially on special days like birthdays or Christmas she will spend a lot of hours and put a lot of effort into whatever she is preparing. And that will be very well visible once she gives it to her darling. It’s a main way of showing her love and you will be able to see how carefully she made this. Whilst not saying it very openly, she secretly would love to see you wearing the stuff she made. She is also the type to use quality time in teaching you how to sew and she will have very much patience with it. If you gift her something, she has it always with herself. She might not wear it if she’s with the Troupe, but she always carries it around with her and takes good care of it.

🪡In a classic Tsundere manner she also gets a bit embarrassed when she is being complicated too much. Whilst she can somewhat manage a few praises, if it is too much she gets a bit flustered which will lead her to being defensive since she doesn’t want to show how flustered she really is.

🪡Over time she will warm up more to her feelings and to this relationship, leading her to being more open about a lot of stuff. In public she makes it clear that her darling is hers, not by expressing PDA. But by accompanying them and keeping flirts and other people away. She tends to be passive-aggressive when jealous, letting her dislike out on the other person. She is in her own sense very territorial.

🪡She is gone for longer periods of times, but the times she isn’t, she would want to spend this time with you. She knows that her job is dangerous and that there is every time the chance of her dying which is why she wants to use the time she is still alive as much with her darling as possible. Even if she dies, she wouldn’t want you to be sad about it, especially given her job. She even told Pakunoda that if she should die, the blonde should deliver you the truth about her and her job since she would be dead anyways and for no value than anymore plus that she never told you anything about the troupe or else she would have needed to kidnap you. The reason is that she doesn’t want you to see her as someone she was never. Machi knows she isn’t the most ideal person and that she does a lot of wrong things from which she wanted to protect you.

🪡She only hopes that if she does die and Pakunoda will deliver the message, you won’t hate her forever. She completely understands if you will be mad at this for a bit, but hopes you’ll find it in your heart to forgive her and will remember the times with her as good memories. That’s her wish.

#yandere hunter x hunter #yandere hxh #yandere machi #yandere machi komacine

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victoriareyloficlists · 4 years

Text

13 January 2021 Additions to Reylo Fake Relationship

These fics have been added to the Fake Relationship list located here.

All Bets Are Off by crossingwinter (AO3 2018 Rated E Complete, One-Shot, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: “Fake girlfriend. What does that even mean?” Ben asks her. Rey rests a hand on his arm, feeling the muscles underneath his sleeve. “Babe,” she says, leaning close to him. “It means we pretend we’re madly in love. Think you can pull that off for your office pool?” Ben’s eyes flicker softly between each of hers and he swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat.) Let me Dream, Let me Stay by Melusine11 (AO3 2018 Rated E Complete, 12 Chapters, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Rey has kept up a charade of a non-existant boyfriend for two years and now that Rose and Finn are getting married, she needs someone to pretend to be said boyfriend, enter her coworker Ben.) maybe the night (holds a little hope for us, dear) by notkellymarie (AO3 2020 Rated T Complete, 4 Chapters, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: The inhabitants of The Loft have been invited to a college friend's wedding and Rey's ex-boyfriend will be in attendance. Wanting to avoid an interaction with him due to a messy break-up, she hopes bringing along a plus one will do the trick. Luckily, her friend Ben Solo from 4C is a trooper.) Be My (Fake) Wife by paynesgrey (AO3 2020 Rated E Complete, One-Shot, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Ben Solo is in a bad predicament because of his father. He must produce a wife in order to impress the retiring President so he can take over his family's company. The problem is, he doesn't think he knows anyone who can help him...until Rey, his kendo student, offers to fake marry him for compensation. The only problem is... their marriage and feelings may not seem so fake as they get to know each other.) Force du Couer by Stargazer1116 (AO3 2018 Rated T Complete, 24 Chapters, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Kylo Ren is the CEO of a successful corporation in NYC. In a power play, his board, led by his uncle, demand that he marry to makeover his dismal public image. Rey is an art therapist working with foster kids in Harlem. When she contacts Kylo for possible support, he proposes a business deal that can benefit them both. He has no idea how much this woman with a fierce heart will turn his world upside down.) as luck would have it by prncesselene (AO3 2020 Rated E Complete, 16 Chapters, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: When a case of violent food poisoning ruins Rose and Hux’s honeymoon plans, who better to take their place at a pre-paid Hawaiian beach resort than the Maid of Honor and Best Man? Sure, it’ll take some maneuvering, but a free vacation is a free vacation. They just have to pretend to be devoted newlyweds for a bit to enjoy it. There’s only one glaring issue, really: they can’t stand each other.) Home for the Holidays by LarirenShadow (AO3 2016 Rated T Complete, 5 Chapters, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Kylo Ren, in a moment of weakness, tells his mother he'll be home for Christmas and will bring his girlfriend. Problem is he doesn't have one. Enter Rey, his grad assistant. He makes a deal with her so she'll be his girlfriend for the trip home.) daylight by sparklylulz (sparklyulz) (AO3 2020 Rated T Complete, 4 Chapters, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Coffee shop employee Rey has a run in with one of the difficult professors. Thus starts a very turbulent friendship until Ben needs a fake date to go with him to see his parents, the first time he's seen his parents in a while.) Merry (Fuzzy) and Bright by JaneNightwork (AO3 2019 Rated M Complete, 25 Chapters, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: One night Ben finds a dog abandoned on his doorstep. She's cold, scared, and pregnant. Ben takes her to a nearby vet clinic and meets the beautiful veterinarian Rey, who promises to help him be the best caregiver the dog and her puppies could ask for. Throughout the holiday season Ben and Rey fall in love with the puppies and, of course, each other.) Trouble for Thanksgiving by Biekewieke (AO3 2019 Rated E Complete, 40 Chapters, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Rey Kenobi's temporary work visa is about to expire. She needs her boss' signature on her renewal application to get the extension she desperately wants and needs. Only her boss, the infamous Ben Solo, is an asshole. He's notoriously difficult and she knows this firsthand. Nevertheless, she needs his signature on those papers if she wants to avoid being deported by the end of the year... So when Rey tells her about her looming deportation, he finds a way to bend the situation to suit his own needs. Except, for the first time in his adult life, things don't go exactly as planned when he takes her home for the holidays...) Strictly Business by WinglessOne (AO3 2019 Rated E Complete, 11 Chapters, The Proposal Film AU, Quick Synopsis: Working for a nationally recognizable magazine is a huge honor, one that Ben Solo doesn't take lightly. His boss, Rey Erso, would be the first to agree and is thoroughly comfortable with her status as editor-in-chief. When her visa status is denied, she'll do anything to stay in the United States and avoid being deported back to England. Even if that means forcing her assistant to marry her.) Variance by Stargazer1116 (AO3 2018 Rated T Complete, 23 Chapters, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Rey is heartbroken when she learns her temporary visa is expiring...and is mortified when her office crush. Kylo Ren, catches her crying about it. He is a partner in Skywalker & Associates law firm where she is an assistant. One thing leads to another...and what started as a simple solution for each of their problems turns into something much...much more. Together they wade through their deep scars to love.) In Sickness And In Health by Theyna_Shipper (AO3 2020 Rated T Complete, 8 Chapters, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Rey knows it's not an ideal situation, but it's a situation thousands of people are in. It's not like there's much she can do about it right now, anyways. She can go a little while without health insurance. Until she gets breast cancer. The treatment will be simple if she can get it. But she's worried she can't, until her old co-worker Ben offers a solution: "We could get married.") Overboard by Biekewieke (AO3 2020 Rated M Complete, 10 Chapters, Overboard AU, Quick Synopsis: Ben Organa-Skywalker is a rich snob who hires her to clean his party barge, making her life difficult and fouls her mood. After a freak accident throws him overboard and Rey ends up saving his life. When he wakes up, it turns out he has amnesia. Rey sees it as the ultimate answer to all her prayers. She gets to take his arrogant ass down a peg or two AND she has someone to help around the house and with the kids for a while.)

#reylo #reylo fanfic

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teamhook · 4 years

Text

Un-Kissable CS AU::never been kissed

Hello. I know it has been a long time but I’m going to finish this. I’m aware I have a lot of WIPs but if you’re patient and stick around I will finish them all. To those who have stuck around and the new readers thank you. Okay so here we go. This is the last update of my older fics. Since it has been so long I will share a link to the first chapter and to the current.

I want to thank @ultraluckycatnd for being the lovely beta she is. Art by @herhookedhero

FFN |CH1| |CH6|

AO3 |CH1| |CH6|

Will Scarlet stands outside of Storybrooke High. He enters the school, turning to face the security guard and nods. He swaggers down the hall only to come face to face with a beautiful woman. She is a petite brunette with blue eyes. Will's heart stops. "Excuse me, ma'am?"

The lovely brunette turns to him with a soft smile. "Hello, may I help you?"

"Lass, I'm looking for the Principal's office. I'm here to pick up Killian Jones."

"Oh," she smiles, "I can walk you to the office."

"I'd appreciate it, thank you," he says, smiling.

They walk in silence.

All Will knows is that this woman is the most beautiful creature he has seen in his life. He is speechless, which is an uncommon occurrence. They arrive at the office and for a mere second, they awkwardly stand in silence.

She clears her throat. "We're here. This is it." She smiles at him.

They gaze into each other's eyes one last time before the clerk breaks the moment between them.

"Sir, how can I help you?"

Belle smiles at Will. "She'll help you." She hesitates for a second and turns to leave.

"I'm here to pick up Killian Jones. I was called to come to pick him up."

"Oh, yes. He is with Mr. Hopper and the nurse. One moment please." She picks up the phone. "Mr. Hopper, they're here for Mr. Jones. Yes, sir." She smiles. "Mr. Jones, could you follow me please?"

Will's eyes widen, and he nods and follows her. They enter the office of Mr. Hopper, the principal. He gestures for Will to sit down.

After an apology from the kind man, Will and Killian emerge from the office. Once they're out of earshot, Will comments. "Mate, you could have at least tried covering your face." Will winces as he looks at Killian's face.

Killian laughs and winces. "Bloody hell, it hurts when I laugh. Let's go."

"So, I'm Jones now?"

"I couldn't let them call Liam," Killian defended. "You know he acts like if he was my father instead of my older brother."

Killian looks at Will, who is distracted.

"I just encountered the most beautiful creature," Will sighs.

"Wait, I thought things were going well with Anastasia. Didn't you just invite me to go out with you lot to meet her and her friends?"

Will turned red. "I was trying to get you laid. Besides, she made it clear that she isn't interested in me. She invited her new boyfriend. So although I wasn't the only man there, I wasn't exactly wanted there. Her friends looked at me with pity, Killian, but this girl takes my breath away. I just hope she is not a student here."

Killian grimaces as they continue their walk.

"So what happened?" Will asks.

"Isn't it obvious?"

"I suppose. So, do I drop you off at your place?"

"Aye, Shadow will keep me company."

"I don't know, maybe I should take you to the hospital or a doctor? You might have a broken rib or something."

"Nurse Ratched checked me and didn't find any severe damage. Although she did enjoy prodding me a bit too much." Killian shuddered as he remembered the exam the nurse had given him.

Once Emma is in her classroom, she becomes distracted. The school isn't known for violence, but there are a few bad eggs. She chooses to see the best in everyone, but right now her anger for what had happened to Killian was blinding her. Yes, she cares for all her students, but Killian is different. She wonders if anyone in her class is responsible. Oh yes, she knows Peter and Felix are bullies. She had caught them when they picked on Henry. She had sent them to Principal Hopper's office on several occasions and to the counselor, but they were obviously not taking the warnings seriously.

She smiled as her eyes landed on Henry. He was such a sweet kid. He had eagerly attached himself to Killian. She had been so happy to see him make a friend.

"Class, I'm sad to say that one of your classmates, Killian Jones, was attacked and will be out for a couple of days." She looks around the classroom and gauges their reactions.

Henry looks disappointed as he turns to Killian's empty seat. His big brown eyes become wide and suddenly a smile begins to form. "Miss Emma, I was wondering if we could make him a get-well card? Or maybe buy him some flowers?"

Peter and Felix snicker. "Cause he is a pansy just like Henry."

Emma glares at Felix and Peter, shaking her head. "Henry, that sounds like a lovely idea. Isn't that right class?"

The classroom erupts in agreement except for the grunts of the two scowling trouble makers.

"Alright, class. we have work to do." Emma smiles at the class. She is happy they are so welcoming to the new kid. Keyword kid, she has to remind herself.

After Will drops him off at home, Killian feeds Shadow. He was tilting to the side to offset the pain. He takes an ice pack from the freezer and stops by his medicine cabinet for some painkillers. He hates staying still, but that's his only option. He lays down on his bed with the freezing pack pressed to his side. He hissed as he feels the cold numb the pain, Shadow purring next to him waiting for his attention. Killian smiles. "Shadow, I'm sorry mate I can't spoil you rotten right now." The piercing eyes show understanding as he meows and purrs contently, nuzzling his head on Killian's hand. Killian unconsciously pets him until his eyes start to close.

The next morning, Liam decides to check in on Killian. He hasn't told him how his assignment is going, which makes him worry. Killian had been so eager to tell him about the assignment and then nothing. Liam opened the door with his emergency key and notices the room is as quiet and neat as ever. His little brother was compulsive when it came to tidying up the place. He waits for Shadow to show up and attack. That little cat was ferocious and even more protective of Killian than him; Killian had once called him his little guard cat. Liam walks into the bedroom to find his brother sleeping. He approaches to wake him up because it is late and very unlike Killian to oversleep. He was going to be late for school. He notices the bruises on his face and the melted ice pack next to him. Liam shakes his head. "Killian, wake up."

A groggy Killian shifts in his sleep and mumbles, "Leave me alone, Liam."

"Killian, you're going to be late for school," Liam says as he waits for the words to get through his brother's sleep-addled mind.

Killian jumps up, startling Shadow and breathing heavily as his eyes land on a cross-armed Liam glaring at him.

"Brother, do you have anything to say to me?" Liam asks patiently.

Killian winces and falls back on the bed. "Liam, what the bloody hell are you doing here?"

"Killy, what happened?"

Killian sighs. "Nothing. I fell."

Liam laughs loudly. "I didn't fall for that when we were younger. I'm not about to start now. Try again."

"Fine, but promise me you will not overreact."

Liam's jaw clenches. "I can only promise to try."

"There are some bullies at school and I suppose they are not my biggest fans." Killian shrugged.

"Killian, did you at least try to defend yourself?"

"No Liam, I just tried to cover my face. Do you forget I'm an adult? I would get in trouble at work for blowing my cover and for hitting a minor."

Liam shook his head in disbelief. "No story is worth your safety. I think you should quit. I don't want you putting yourself in danger."

"Liam, this is my chance."

"You need to be more careful. Killian, you shouldn't need to risk your life for a story in a high school."

"Liam, so tell me, brother. How would it work if I ever have a serious story? Hmm? I would have to tell Sidney I can't because it's dangerous and my brother doesn't want me to? If I can't do this, then why would I want to be a reporter?"

Liam sighs. "I get it. I'm not exactly living my dream. There's no need for both of us to be miserable."

Killian smiles. "Thank you."

"I suppose you're staying home today. I'll bring you something to eat. Just relax and focus on getting better. Wait, should I take you to the doctor or the hospital?"

"The school nurse checked me thoroughly. I don't think Nurse Ratched takes her job as a joke."

Liam simply nods as he walks back to the freezer for another pack to help soothe his brother's pain. "Alright, I will be back."

Liam left with one thought on his mind. He needed to find a way to protect his little brother.

Henry had called the day after to check on him. He was proving to be a good friend. He wanted to drop off his class assignments, but Killian had quickly asked him if it was alright for his brother to pick them up. Killian hated lying to him about his true identity, but how would he explain living alone? He also wanted to prove himself. Not once had Killian thought that taking this assignment would have the possibility of changing his personal life as well as his professional one. Killian remembered the concern he had seen on Miss Swan's face while she cared for him, but now was not the time for silly crushes. She surely couldn't possibly feel the same.

Killian returns to school after a couple of days at home recuperating, his bruises fading into a purplish-black color which makes his eyes more vibrant. His face has a fuzz due to not shaving for days. He looks older and there is also a hint of danger to his appearance. He also has to resort to wearing his contacts because he had lost his glasses the day of the attack.

He can feel Peter and Felix keeping an eye on him. Days pass and there are no new attacks. Miss Swan had asked him if he saw anything, but he lied to her saying no, but he had a feeling she knew he was lying.

After two weeks, Sidney finally calls him to his office, furious.

"Killian, can you explain to me what this is?" Sidney hands him his iPad to read an article.

Killian mumbles as he reads it. "I agree. Skull Rock is where all the cool kids hang out."

"Hmm. Can you explain to me why, no, how you were scooped by The Author? Killian, you've been at this school for weeks and have nothing to show! I want you to hang out with the cool kids; if they go to prom, you will be with them. That's where the story is. Is that understood?"

Killian tries to explain, but Sidney's glare warns him it is better to stay quiet.

Killian left Sidney's office deflated. How was he going to make that happen? What could he do to fit in with the cool kids? He had to come up with a plan, and fast.

@rumdrum91 @itsfabianadocarmo @xsajx @hookedonapirate @kmomof4 @searchingwardrobes @seriouslyhooked @profdanglaisstuff @let-it-raines @revanmeetra87 @snowbellewells @hollyethecurious @kymbersmith-90 @branlovestowrite @thejollyroger-writer @shireness-says @ilovemesomekillianjones @thisonesatellite @thesschesthair @winterbythesea @stahlop @resident-of-storybrooke @superchocovian @lfh1226-linda @artistic-writer @thislassishooked @shardminds @winterbaby89 @xhookswenchx @ultraluckycatnd @gingerchangeling @laschatzi @wellhellotragic @xemmaloveskillianx @courtorderedcake @pirateherokillian @optomisticgirl @darkcolinodonorgasm @andiirivera @djlbg @nikkiemms @jennjenn615 @scientificapricot @officerrogers @imlaxdris71 @therealstartraveller776 @kday426 @allons-y-to-hogwarts-713 @donteattheappleshook @spacekrulesbians @lassluna @carpedzem @captainodonoghue @killian-will-do @jarienn972 @tehgreeneyes @demisexualemmaswan @queen-serena88 @swanslieutenant @tiganasummertree @whimsicallyenchantedrose @bethacaciakay @ohmakemeahercules @jrob64 @klynn-stormz @mariakov81 @sals86 @elizabeethan @brooke-to-broch @hookedonhiddles @onceratheart18 @the-darkdragonfly @veryverynotgoodwrites @jonesfandomfanatic @wefoundloveunderthelight @cocohook38

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amydancepants-peralta · 4 years

Note

5 + 23. i may be in an angsty mood :)

5: They can’t hurt you anymore & 23: Please don’t go

(also on AO3, if ya fancy)

the day you went away

The burning wick of one of Amy’s favourite candles crackles softly from its position perched along the end of her bathtub, the familiar scent of fig and papaya mixing with the peppery hints of her red wine as she slowly tips the glass towards her mouth.

She watches as the shadows from the flame dance across the bathroom tiles, the corners of the room leading to nonsensical shapes that remind her of a time long since past; of nights where she and her brothers would steal their father’s torch for shadow puppet theatre, giggling from the bottom of their bellies as the night stretched on and the acts increased in absurdity. A sense of nostalgia looms over her now - an unfamiliar urge for days to return to such sweet moments of simplicity - and Amy closes her eyes as she takes another sip, choosing instead to focus on the gentle burn of the tannins as she swallows.

If she tries hard enough, she can feel Jake’s hand on her knee, tracing meaningless patterns with the tips of his fingers the way he always does.

The way he always used to do.

He’d left this evening, in a flurry of tears and protests; gripping her hand in his so.tightly. that both had turned pale, refusing to let go until the very last second. It was hard to pick which part hurt the most - that he’d gone to start a life somewhere she’ll never know, or that he’s gone to start it without her - but in all reality both paled in comparison to the very stark possibility that Jake may simply never come back.

They can’t hurt you anymore.

It was a prominent memory playing on a loop in her mind, after everyone had been whisked out of Shaw’s and ushered into a nearby safe house, fielding phone calls and arguing options until it became horrifyingly clear what Jake and Holt needed to do. She didn’t mention it - didn’t dare bring her thoughts to life by speaking them out loud - but the recollections of her experience with the witsec program years ago simply refused to go away.

It had been the first (and last) case she’d handled as a detective at the six-four before her transfer: a mob-related string of felonies that, after one informant’s incredible testimony, had landed three of the more prominent members of a crime family in jail. Repeated death threats had led the informant and his family into witsec; and for the first six months of her time at the nine-nine, whenever she checked in on their case, everything seemed to have turned out for the better.

And then, the inexplicably early release of one of the prisoners, and an act of retribution that had happened before anybody could even send out a warning. A post-it on Amy’s desk with the number of their handler scrawled across the top, and a family that will never be the same.

None of the squad really knew why she’d left early that day (even after six months, Amy was still trying to find her feet amongst the team), but the last few words she said to the victims before they’d left had come racing back to her like a punch to the stomach, and tonight they had made their silent return.

They can’t hurt you anymore.

It was naive - the kind of rookie statement that one makes when their heart is so full of hope that anything else seems impossible, and in the end it was so very wrong. She knows better to do so now (a lesson learned once is a lesson hard to forget), but tonight the love of her life is hiding someplace she’ll never know; and in a world full of sudden uncertainties Amy swears - with these bath tiles as her witness - that she will not stop fighting to take down Figgis until Jake is finally home.

She shifts, the water lapping gently against her skin, and the last few drops of the wine trickle slowly down her throat. The porcelain feels cold against her back - this bathtub, once perfectly suited for one, now too big without Jake to lean against - the room too quiet, her skin too untouched by the only one who knew how to draw out the sadness and replace it with laughter.

Please don’t go.

Amy never thought she’d be the kind of woman to beg a man to stay - independence has always been key in every relationship, and this one was no different - but she supposes that what’s happens when a passing crush turns into love, or as far as she and Jake were concerned, something even greater. Something so deep and undeniable that it changes the very portrait of what one would have imagined their life to be, and she was watching it all fall apart in front of her eyes. Suddenly it was all she could say, the only words that her heart would let her mouth form when Jake had pulled her into a seperate room, desperate for some privacy before the witsec team could come to rip them apart.

Please. Don’t go.

She had found herself unable to control the shake in her voice, felt the sting of her mascara as it mixed with her tears, tasted the salt on her lips as the streaks ran down her face. Her racing mind cursed the existence of Figgis, of Bob Annderson and Ryan Whelan and all the reasons why they couldn’t just run away from it all, every. single. reason. why Amy had to stay and Jake had to go.

(Holt had called them rationalisations - had made the very same argument to a disbelieving Kevin - but as far as Amy was concerned, the world had stopped feeling rational the moment Jake had hung up the phone, turning towards her with a face as pale as a ghost.)

Jake had kissed her one last time before leaving; the kind of kiss that makes shivers run down your spine and curls your toes inward … the kind of kiss you give somebody when you simply cannot imagine not being able to kiss them ever again. He’d told her he loved her, that he was terrified to do this without her; that she was his home, and he would be back. And without hesitation, Amy believed him, even when the heartbreak was so clear in his eyes.

But then the door to the safe house clicked shut behind their departing figures, and the hollow feeling was too strong to deny.

And now she sits in this too-empty apartment, staring at Jake’s spare toothbrush as it rests next to hers in the glass by the basin; watching the bubbles as they disintegrate against her skin and trying to pinch her thigh hard enough to wake up from this nightmare before it can even begin.

Through the wall she hears the heavy stomps of her neighbours boots as they pass through the hallway, their chatter loud and animated (and a little TOO loud, given the time), a projection of joy that feels far too out of place in her world right now, because how could anybody possibly be happy right now, when the man she loves So Much has had to walk away?

Tears begin to fall down her face again, ones that Amy doesn’t bother to conceal, letting them fall into the cooling bathwater around her. She knows she should sleep - it is far too late for her morning alarm to feel anything other than brutal - but the thought of waking up in her bed alone, just after getting back to normality post-Texas, was too painful to consider.

In the morning, the sky will seem too blue; the city unfairly vibrant, the sun traitorously bright - and Amy will swear that she sees Jake’s face in every crowd. The bullpen will whisper, the sudden unexplained disappearance of two members of the force hard to ignore and after she meets their new captain Amy will open up a brand new binder, give it a nondescript title page, and begin her hunt for Figgis.

As the weeks roll on she will try not to focus on the fact that there should be boxes with his name on it scattered through her (their) living room, shoe racks half constructed for the entryway and a thoroughly itemised schedule typed and laminated, ready for Moving Day. Instead she will plan for their future, update and amend her life calendar to allow for the infinite unknown, and dream of days to come where ruffled hair and corny jokes will fill her mornings once again.

But for tonight, the world is on pause - for surely it has changed too much for it to continue as it were. Tonight, Amy is a grieving girlfriend needing to mourn for all that could have been, a role she’s never imagined playing but has already settled under her skin without introduction, the heaviness of her heart weighing her down as she lets out a shuddering sigh.

His hoodie will be tucked underneath her pillow as she sleeps, the need for rest now a priority because tomorrow her fight for their future begins. For if there’s one thing that Amy knows for certain, it is that what they have is worth striving for - and one way or another, the two of them will be together again.

(In the end it will take a bullet, a hotdog, and an uncharacteristic defiance of superiority before her world shifts back on its proper axis; but it brings Jake and Holt home, and how could that not be worth everything?)

#angsty amy #set post s3 finale #boy this tanked #... noted #anon I don't know if you're still around and this is late but I hope you enjoy!#my writing #b99 fic

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mergeatrois · 5 years

Text

Desire

Have to upload again because Tumblr cannot make up their mind on banned content after it was prior approved :))

Sarah’s life felt like it was spiraling downwards. Her grades were shabby, she felt sick almost everyrday now, and worst of all, her own roommate had started bullying her. Sarah thought that life would get better after she came out of the closet, and for a little while it did. Her family was supportive and accepting and she felt relieved to finally tell everyone the truth. Things would have actually been pretty decent if it wasn’t for her roommate Kacey.

Kacey didn’t even talk much to Sarah before she came out as a lesbian. She figured that it wouldn’t have even changed anything between them but she was sadly mistaken. Kacey started lashing out at Sarah, small at first, forcing chores onto her and making small but insensitive comments about her appearance. Eventually these things grew into outright sharp insults, rumor spreading, and even stealing. Kacey was one of the most popular and beautiful girls on campus so her rumors were practically truths to every student that she told. “She cheats and plagiarizes all of her work” “She’s kind of a huge slut” “She’ll steal just about anything she can get her hands on”. All of these falsehoods ran through Sarah’s mind day in and day out all thanks to her shitty roommate.

Kacey wouldn’t even call Sarah by her name, she just referred to her as “bitch” or “dike”. Sarah felt like an intruder at her college, even in her own dorm she didn’t feel very safe unless Kacey was out of the dorm. The bullying was bad enough on its own, but the worst part had to have been that Sarah had developed a crush on Kacey before she came out. Sarah couldn’t help herself when she saw Kacey, she was easily the hottest girl on campus. She was gorgeous, fit, and busty. She was everything that Sarah found sexy. Even her “high and mighty” demeanor was a turn on for Sarah. She would give just about anything to see that smug, snakey look wipe off her face while Sarah dominated her in the bedroom. Nothing turned her on more than thinking about Kacey. She’d think about her almost every time when she masturbated, but on the inside she knew that her fantasies would remain just that, fantasies.

One night, Sarah stayed up late, trying desperately to finish work deadlines and maybe fit in some time to rub one out if she could manage. Kacey was gone that night. She went out on a date with some guy she had met just a few days ago. Sarah was relieved that Kacey was gone but still felt sick with envy. “Lucky asshole” she muttered to himself while thinking of the bastard that would push inside Kacey’s guts that night. She felt frustrated after finishing up her work, she needed some relief. She pulled up her regular porn site and scanned the numerous pages, looking for something good to watch. She searched closely, reading every title on every page. Eventually, she noticed a small, recurring ad banner that had appeared on the last few pages. She scoffed as she read the scamming advertisement. “One trick that’ll help you fuck anyone you want!” Sarah shook her head. How could people even fall for shit like that? What a waste of time. She went on to the next page and noticed that every ad banner was replaced with the one that she had read before moving on. “That’s….odd” she thought as she clicked the refresh button. The page blinked white before reloading. Now all the thumbnails to the videos on the browser were replaced with an small image of the ad banner that she had seen earlier. She read the titles on all the videos, they were all the same. “Life changing product! Click now!”

Sarah winced. She was spooked to hell at this point. What the fuck kind of ad did this? She shivered a bit, slightly shaken by the strange glitch that covered the web page. She decided the bite the bullet. Maybe there was something about the ad that drew her in. Sarah didn’t know, and for some reason, she didn’t even care. She winced and clicked one of the many links that threw her straight to strange website. A picture appeared before her. A image of a smooth, plastic bottle filled with a strange orange substance. Underneath the image was a title filled with big tooney letters and a picture of a young, smiling cartoon witch. The title read “Bellamy’s Magical Elixir!” Sarah scrolled down to read the description of the weird product.

“A new supernatural lotion that will let you have the body of your dreams! Do you ever get tired of being you? Or do you simply want a hotter sex life? Have you ever dreamed about being a hot supermodel or a muscled up stud? If you answered yes to any of these then this oil is for you! Just grab the partner that you want to merge with and rub the oil into both of your bodies. Once both the bodies are finely lubricated, just squeeze together and voila, you now have the body that you always dreamed of. Enjoy your new life and your wildest fantasies! Now only $9.99 per bottle!”

Sarah couldn’t believe her eyes. This couldn’t be real, could it? “I mean, what hope do I really have left?” She asked herself. Sarah felt hopeless in her situation. Kacey was making her life a living hell, and the idea of being someone that Kacey found irresistible turn Sarah on more than ever. Worse case scenario, she blows 10 bucks on a useless bottle of lube. Sarah placed the order as fast as she could. Once the money was sent, the page closed abruptly. She tried searching for the website that she had ordered from just seconds ago but nothing popped up in the search engine. Sarah groaned loudly. “Fuuuuuuuck. I can’t believe I actually bought into that crap.” She was too disappointed in herself to even masturbate that night. She marched over to her bed defeatedly and flopped onto bed. Sarah closed her eyes tightly, trying desperately to forget that the night even happened.

She woke up the next morning feeling like death itself. Her eyelids were still heavy. She went into the kitchen and looked around the dorm for a bit. Thank god, Kacey was still gone. She yawned loudly and began stretching before a loud knock resounded from her door. The banging was so loud that it made her jump. “Jeez, spoke too soon I guess.” she mumbled before marching over to the door. She looked through the peephole to that Kacey wasn’t in front of the door. In fact, no one was. She opened the door cautiously and looked around seeing no one. She began to walk outside her dorm when her foot kicked a small package. Sarah picked up the package slowly in disbelief. “No way…it’s already here?” she asked to no one. “That was like, crazy fast.” She walked back inside and ripped the package open. A slim plastic bottle filled with a syrupy orange fluid. She read the instructions on the label on the back of the bottle. She repeated the instructions: “Find yourself a partner and oil up together. Once both bodies are thoroughly lathered with the substance, squeeze both bodies together and enjoy the new you. Note: Only one partner will retain their conscious during this process. The possessed partner will be gone forever and the one taking over will lose every semblance of their old life. The partner that’s being taken over will wait on standby once they are coated in the elixir. Please use with caution.”

For the first time in a long time, Sarah was filled with excitement. All the events up to this point had been so…strange. The glitching ad, the disappearing website, and the fast as hell delivery. Maybe there was something to this elixir after all. She decided to put her faith in the oil. Sarah packed the oil in her bag and rushed over to find Kacey’s laptop. Sarah had snuck a peek at her password while she was typing it in a few months ago, but she didn’t think to use her laptop until this point. Sarah searched quickly through Kacey’s facebook, skype, email messages, trying to find anything about a guy that she was crazy about. Hope seemed lost until she looked through her bookmarks. She saw a tab that linked her directly to the channel of a cammer that Kacey had visited quite often. Sarah looked at pictures of the man in the camera. He was a tall, dark, muscular man with a pretty large following on the site. He would stream naked every other day and put on a show for all of his viewers. The guy looked so familiar to Kacey. She finally figured it out. The guy in the cam was Martin Lennard. He was a student attending their university. No wonder Sarah recognized him, she had seen him just a few months ago while going to the gym. Sarah had been working out with her sister that day when she first saw Martin. He didn’t play any sports for the college but with a body like his, he certainly could. It made sense now why he didn’t, and why he was so reserved. “Jesus Christ, he’s a fucking cam boy.” Sarah said to herself again.

The only time she saw Martin let loose was in the gym. She couldn’t remember much but she could definitely recall how loud he was when he worked out. He strained his entire muscle covered body while in the gym, trying to work out every single muscle until he was drenched in hot sweat. Even Sarah had to admit that he was a pretty dashing guy. Sarah found that Kacey was an avid donator to his stream. She tuned in and donated almost every time he went live. She must have been super into him. It didn’t take long for Sarah to form up a plan. She HAD to get Martin’s body at any cost. This was too good an opportunity to pass up. She sighed calmly before closing the laptop and packing her bag and leaving for class.

During the day, Sarah remembered what day it was when she had seen Martin at the campus gym and began fine tuning her plan. By the time her last class rolled around, she finally had everything worked out. Wednesday rolled around and Sarah took a day off from classes to hang around the gym, waiting for Martin to arrived. Finally she saw his giant, beefy figure stomp towards the gym entrance. He looked absolutely massive. He wore a white tank top that looked almost too small for him. The edges of his meaty pecs poked out the sides of the thin shirt. His swollen arms swung around his heavy gym bag effortlessly as he opened the door to the gym. Sarah jumped up and walked towards the gym desperately to try and follow. She watched him disappear into the men’s locker room before she could grab his attention. She would have to improvise. She waited until he reemerged before sneaking in as fast as possible. Her face was red while she sneaked inside and fear gripped her entire body. She prayed to god that she didn’t get caught.

“Fuck fuck fuck.” she repeated as she slowly snaked through the locker room. She peered into each and every closed locker before finally finding Martin’s gym bag sitting next to an open locker. What a score, he must have forgotten to pack it up before working out. She pulled out the half empty bottle of Bellamy’s Elixir and scratched off the label as neatly as possible before slipping it in his bag. After everything was set she quickly ran out of the locker room and slipped out of the gym in embarrassment.

Sarah went back to her dorm and saw Kacey wandering around inside, talking on the phone. “Yeah, shit didn’t work out last night, I’ll be over in a bi- Oh wait, she’s here. Here, I’ll talk outside, you know how snakey she can be.” Kacey walk past Sarah narrowing her eyes with a devilish grin on her face before she put down the phone and started talking. “I’m gonna be at a friend’s place for most of today. Clean shit up around here. I swear, you dikes can be so damn messy sometimes.” Sarah cringed at Kacey’s caty insult before she walked out of the door with her purse in hand. “Fuck I hate her” she thought as she opened up her laptop. It had only been about 20 minutes since Martin entered the gym, he’d probably be back home in about an hour. Sarah had to get ready. She searched around her bed, finding the other bottle that she had filled with the magic oil. “Christ. I hope this works.”

She waited in Martin’s hallway near his door. He would be there any second. Just when she thought about backing out, she could see him walking towards his door with his gym bag in hand. Sarah jumped a bit and began fumbling through her purse, looking like she was just looking for her keys. She listened closely as Martin opened his door and slammed it shut. She stopped for a minute. She could hear the door lock. Martin may have been a strong guy, but the man was definitely not too careful. Sarah waited another minute in silence before opening his door slowly and inching into the dorm. She left her purse outside, only taking the other half of the oil. She snuck through his place carefully before finding a closet to hide in while he showered in the bathroom. She took the time to strip down naked in the dark closet and cover her body in the oily substance. The orange elixir seeped into her skin making her soft, white flesh nice and slippery. Her face turned red in embarrassment once more. It was strange being naked and oiled up but she was banking on this elixir to escape her shitty life with Kacey.

After what seemed like hours, Martin finally stomped out of the bathroom and past the closet that Sarah was hiding in. She peeked outside the closet door to see him almost completely naked, wearing nothing but a towel that wrapped around his waist. He opened his laptop and started typing on the keyboard before stepping back.

“Everything set up, we live?” He said in his deep, masculine voice. She could see a smile form across his face. “Nice, nice” he said before dropping the towel. Sarah’s eyes widened as she saw the jock strapped that firmly hugged against Martin’s crotch. She covered her mouth, doing her best to contain her excitement.

“I’ve got a real nice show for you guys tonight.” She said with a smirk before pulling out the bottle of elixir that Sarah had slipped into his gym bag. “Forgot I had a little something left in my gym bag. You guys are in for a fuckin’ treat.”

He poured the oil into his hands began rubbing the orange fluid all over his puffed out chest. His hands wrapped around his bulging pecs, slowly coating them in the slippery, reflective liquid. His dark skin glistened and his muscles shined as he slowly bathed himself in the slippery oil. He looked so…hot. He wiped his hands over his tight abs over and over, making sure that the light reflected off their solid surface the most. He refilled his palms with the orange substance before coating his giant arms next. Christ they were fucking huge. Sarah didn’t even care to look at their stunning form the first time that she had seen Martin. He was fucking shredded. He flexed his dark cannons tightly, letting his biceps swell as he washed the oil over their beefy structure. He opened his eyes, staring deeply into his giant guns before turning towards the camera. “Mmmm yeah, you fuckin like that? You like my massive guns huh? Fuck yeah you do.” Even from all the way in the closet, Sarah could see the veins on his biceps thrust against his shimmering, ebony skin. He covered his whole torso in the oil, eventually reaching his hands into the jockstrap to oil up his dick. He moaned softly and tilted back his head as he touched himself, slowly coating that thick black dick of his with the lotion. He finally poured the rest over his thick thighs, letting streams of the magic elixir flow down his legs before he rubbed it into his dark flesh.

He continued to moan and run his hands over his mounds of muscle as the oil seeped into his skin until he suddenly opened his eyes and sat up straight. He looked almost dazed and he stared at his oiled up body in confusion before shaking his head and turning off the laptop in front of him. Once he closed it, he brought over a chair and sat down. He reached his hand inside the jockstrap once more. From what Sarah could see, he was slowly jerking his cock over and over as he tilted his head back with his eyes closed. Sarah slowly inched out of the closet, covering her chest and crotch as she slowly stepped towards the muscled giant. He started moaning deeply, still oiling up his long, black shaft. Sarah stood in front of the intimidating stud, taking a good look at his body as she stood cautiously. He didn’t even seem to notice her. He moved his hand outside of the jock, letting the strap fill with his growing member. The front of the strap shot out with a large bulge, it grew progressively thicker and thicker as he heaved his heavy chest up and down. Sarah sat slowly onto his lap, trying her best to ignore the massive bulge that ran past her butt and down her thigh. She pulled the strap upwards and slipped her oily legs inside with ease. She let the jock go and the strap snapped against her soft skin making her wince as it pulled their bodies together tightly. Instead of feeling the smack of his oily taut skin, she began falling through his thick waist ass first.

She looked down unexpectedly and her eyes widened with excitement once more. She held her breath as her legs and her waist slowly vanished into his huge, herculean form. A strange sensation coursed through her body. Her legs felt almost twice as heavy as before and something felt so off about her crotch. She felt a strong fabric squeezing against her crotch. It would have felt uncomfortable if her body was so oiled up. “W-wait. Oiled up?” She thought to herself. She looked down once more. Her old legs were completely gone. Her soft white flesh was now replaced with dark, brown skin that was pulled taut over her muscular legs and her crotch was now being hugged tightly by the tight white jockstrap. Nothing could have prepared her for what happened next. Her new cock began to grow as her breaths became more and more rapid. Her shaft slowly inched upwards against the front of the strap, making the bulge grow bigger by the second. She winced with discomfort. “This-this is so fucking weird.” She said while trying to catch her breath. She couldn’t believe it. She had a cock. A big cock at that. She narrowed and eventually closed her eyes tightly as her dick became harder and harder. It felt weird but somehow so pleasurable. Eventually her eyes opened and she moaned softly as her cock eventually hit its peak and began thrashing fiercely against the soft cotton briefs. She wanted to feel it up so badly but fought the urge to jerk off right then and there.

She fell back, her slender, girlish figure disappearing into the void of Martin’s heavyset chest. His chest seemed to swallow her whole. It took in her body so easily. Sarah blinked an eye before feeling the air suck out of her chest. She inhaled desperately but her chest felt massive and unnatural. It was a chore to bring air into her lungs but she slowly got used to the feeling. She looked down and immediately, her gaze was met with her new hunky torso. Her new black pecs were bursting with strength and muscle, they heaved up and down with heavy weight as she sucked air into her new giant lungs. Fuck. This felt so weird. So unlady-like but she loved how fucking strong her chest was now. Even her tight, firm abs felt fucking incredible. She bounced her new beefy pecs up and down over and over again. She loved showing off their strength and form. She bite her lips as she lifted her skinny arms against his rippling, shimmering, black cannons. His arms curved around hers and her arms slipped into his without resistance.

She could feel their power instantly. The size of her swollen biceps and dark, furry forearms. The veins that thrusted forcibly against her slippery, brown flesh and the muscles that lined around her deep hairy armpits. “Fuuuuck” she let out as her arms strained to thrust their muscles up tightly against her skin. Was in love with this body. She couldn’t wait to explore all its ins and outs. She sunk back her head with a large smile on her face before the old Sarah completely vanished.

Sarah’s eyes blinked groggily as she looked around the dorm. A sense of unease and familiarity filled her body. She felt like a stranger inside the dorm but at the same time, she felt right at home. She blinked her eyes fully open before looking down at her body. A smile crossed her face. She was a total hunk. She felt like an intruder in this gorgeous body, like she didn’t belong. Even though this feeling loomed over her head, she loved her stunning, brawny figure way too much to let it bother her. Sarah stood up from her chair and began feeling up her muscled chest, filling her giant hands with her bunching black pecs. That name ran through her head over and over. “Sarah. Sarah. No no no, Sarah is gone. Martin feels so much better.” Martin brought up her thick arms and began flexing this as hard as he could. “Yeah….Martin” he said to himself with a cocky grin wiping across his face.

Martin loved his body. It was the one that he had been building up for his entire life, but it felt so new. It was like playing with a cool new toy for the very first time. He thrusted his pecs out forcefully, letting his chest swell with air, making his muscles look even more massive and pronounced. God, he loved this fucking body. Everything about it was just so damn perfect. From his massive arms to his heavy, unmovable chest, even his glistening dark skin felt so fucking sexy to have. And his cock, god his cock was perfect. Long, girthy, and throbbing for some action. He was so absorbed in checking out his arms and chest that he had almost forgotten how the strap was hugging tightly against his thick, muscled member. His bulge was pulsing and thrashing around fiercely as he flexed his heavyset form. Another wide grin crossed his face as he pulled down the strap. His long black cock shot forward instantly, still throbbing over and over, just waiting to be touched.

He couldn’t wait any longer. Martin wrapped his big muscular hands around his veiny shaft, slowly running his hand up and down its length. His palm was completely filled with his girthy black shaft, he could even feel the veins brush against his hands as he jerked his cock over and over. His dick was nice and slick thanks to the oil that he put on it earlier, it felt so fucking good as he let his hand glide effortlessly up and down his massive dick. Martin’s forearm began to tighten and cover with veins as he tugged faster and faster. The sight of it gave him an idea. He brought up his other arm and flexed, letting his biceps bulge up near his head. His biceps were fucking huge. Covered in a thick layer of lean muscle, riddled with veins, he loved their size. The pleasure was weighing on him. He moaned deeply, his voice booming throughout the dorm as he pulled on his long dick over and over again. It felt fucking amazing. Beads of sweat broke the coat of oil that covered his muscled chest as he heaved it up and down, slowly getting closer and closer to his climax. His abs were sucked in tight, their deep grooves and ridges still holding small streams of slippery sweat as he held them in, keeping them nice and firm. His pits deepened as he flexed his entire body, finally letting out a loud roar as he could feel his load escape his thickened shaft. His hard, now pulsating cock shot out stream after stream of hot, sticky cum. The fluid escaped his fat tip, spewing puddles of white fluid onto the carpet, almost reaching the desk where his laptop laid. Martin breathed in deeply as he smashed back down into his chair, his hand still gripped firmly around his dark, veiny shaft. He slowly milked every last drop of cum out of his muscled rod before rolling his head back with a smile on his face. This body was absolutely perfect.

Thanks for reading. If you like the stories with thinking of yourself as being the one to merge into others and have spare time to RP, hit up my DMs as I’m always generally looking. Cheers.

#F2M Merge

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dimancheetoile · 4 years

Text

of stardust and galaxies

Written for @shikasaku-week Hanami 2020 Day 2 Prompt 1: of stardust and galaxies

Read on AO3

I had an absolute blast writing this, you have no idea. This story is set before another that will also be posted for ShikaSaku Week.

Yes I did re-use the parents I invented for Sakura in Withered Flowers but they're really not important enough in this story to warrant me spending time researching names for them.

Please tell me what you thought about this one, I'm truly interested given how much I like it!

•

The war went on for much longer than anyone could have ever anticipated. The losses were massive, in scale of destruction and in numbers. After a particularly violent attack from Madara, Konoha was simply razed off the map. Entirely and thoroughly destroyed, until not even the foundations of the buildings remained.

The scope of the fire jutsu Madara used went far deeper than simply destroying the entire history of their village and every single memory kept in those narrow streets and green parks. His black fire, raging and wild, scorched the earth deep into its own core. They tried to rebuild, for a while. Tenzō's mokuton had been vital to the reconstruction effort, but it quickly became apparent that it wasn't worth the chakra exhaustion. Nothing would grow on the cracked earth left behind by Madara's madness.

Driven out of their own homeland by starvation, Konoha's remaining population began its exodus.

Having lost most of the people who used to lead Konoha no Sato, and a good chunk of the people who would have been considered successors to those leaders, the citizens were aimless for days as they regrouped and gathered the very few items they had remade for their new homes that they were going to abandon one more time.

In the end, things settled in the way things always settle after a disaster. Desperation and urgency bred to create exceptional circumstances and someone who wanted nothing to do with power ended up with way too much of it on their hands for their taste.

Haruno Sakura was born to civilian parents in the Farmers' Guild, who only had one expectation for their daughter, which was to marry a nice civilian who owned a reasonable business or worked a reasonable job and live a reasonable life together until they died at a reasonable age only a reasonable amount of years apart.

Unfortunately for Haruno Hashiru and Uzumaki Noroshi, they would both lose their life in a raid of their small property in the farm lands around the village. Having no living relatives and her inheritance barely paying for the funeral arrangements and handling of their property, Sakura was put in the orphanage, and that was that.

Sakura grew up in one of the worst orphanages of the Five Nations, surrounded by children who suffer just as must as you and whose bitterness and malice is proportionate to how poorly they're, in turn, treated by the people supposed to care for them. You don't grow up in that kind of environment and have huge expectations for your life.

Had Sakura not met a clan heiress and her clan heirs friends when she was at a turning point in her life, she would have remained a low-life, desperate kid who would have grown up on the streets of a village that never had the emotional capacity to care for its civilian population, given that it was born out of the desperate attempt at peace of two historically warring clans that treated its own, very rare civilians like cannon fodder.

She would have grown up starved and angry, desperate to put food in her plate day by day. She would have begun selling her body at the age of twelve, to the highest bidder willing to pay for her virginity, and the money from that sale only would have put food on the table for three months, in the underground squat where she would have lived with a few other street urchins, leftovers from a government feasting on its weakest population.

(in another life, she would have kept her eyes shut, round, childish face crushed against the pillow and thankful that she didn't have to look into the beady eyes of the man paying for the last shreds of her hopeful innocence, his white mane moving in rhythm to the thrusting of his hips. She would have thrown a shaking hand forward when he was done, feeling cold and clammy inside, numbly wondering that he kinda looked like a frog, from this angle, then closed her fist around the money before leaving in a rush. In another life, the man would have pulled his loose pants back up under his yukata, feeling good about himself because he just gave a girl enough money to feed herself for a few months. In another life, it never would have crossed his mind that he could have simply given her the money and offered her a shoulder to cry on)

(in another life... right?)

She would have eventually joined a gang, on her knees as often as she would slit throats in back alleys, and a few days before her seventeenth birthday, she would have bled out in the backroom of an unregistered club, throat torn open by a masked figure in a grey uniform the gang members knew too well. As her life would have slowly poured out of her, she would have looked at the back of the ANBU that just killed her and was giving a highfive to the one standing closest, and she would have died with a smile on her lips because the figure smelled like the ramen from Ichiraku that she had never gotten to taste, too expensive for her and her crew.

But Sakura met three clan heirs and after living for ten years in the orphanage, she had been taken in by the Akimichi Clan, when the three friends had taken one look at her shared bunk, on the third day of knowing each others, and had unanimously decided that this would not do and their new friend needed a better place to live.

(Ino had stomped her feet and Shikamaru had pleaded and Chōji had cried a little and eventually, Chōza had caved in and took in the girl. None of the three sets of parents had told their children that their actions didn't solve the problem. None of the three sets of parents asked their heirs why they didn't insist on bringing back every single child from the orphanage, or asked them what they thought would happen to the other children who hadn't made friends with clan heirs. None of them asked anything, because as kind as they are with their own children, willing to give in to their whim of playing heroes for an orphan, they ultimately don't care enough to change a system that benefits them first)

Sakura grows up learning two very important lessons: no one cares about the civilians, and she'll never be in control of her own destiny.

So she's not surprised a single bit when, as the last surviving member of the inner circle around the executive powers of Konoha, she's eventually pushed to the top under the guise of “honoring the deceased” and “giving her the position she deserves for her heroic actions in the war” and named Nanadaime Hokage.

That night, as the slow caravan of Konoha survivors comes to a stop for supper and rest, Sakura crawls into her tent and cries herself to sleep.

A few days later, they finally reach Kiri and Sakura negotiates asylum with the Mizukage. In those few days, she's named herself a cabinet made of the last remaining experts amongst Konoha's sparse population. There aren't enough people in that cabinet for her liking but she can't afford to be picky, so she brings all three of them into the negotiations and they come out with the least worst deal they can hope for, one that is still considerably better than anything they would have managed before the days of the Alliance and better than anything Sakura could have come up with on her own.

The Konoha survivors are put in the deserted district where people who died in the Mist coup used to live in. It's a bit cramped, but they can't afford to complain, so they adapt. At least they have a roof over their head and enough food to feed everyone. Kiri was just as affected by the war as the other nations, though the village itself didn't suffer much in its infrastructure. But they're lacking the numbers lost on the battlefield, and that's where the Fire citizens come in.

People just fill in the gaps left by the war, integrating seamlessly into Wave's economy. They're not naturalized, keeping their Fire citizenship and Sakura remaining their leader. The way it works is that the workers build a wall to close the district off, with a big gate that remains, more often than not, open. Sakura lives in an old administration building, having transformed the top floor offices into a few bedrooms, a kitchen, and a bathroom, two empty rooms waiting to be converted to a kotatsu room and a shrine.

On the ground floor, she has meeting with her advisors, she does hearing for her people and she forges the basis of what promises to be the Fire-Mist treaty, a cooperation and integration policy that would make Konoha's survivors into what amounts to a foster village of Kiri. If this thing comes to pass, they would essentially be a separate state-entity, with its own laws and government, but with privileged relations with Kiri in terms of right of passage, trade, taxes, imports and exports, as well as an equal share of the land.

An equally beneficial treaty, then, but a text of law that still takes a long time to redact and hammer into shape to be certain that no one is getting screwed over by poor wording. The main thing that her village-within-a-village brings to the table is the proposition of an Academy of Medicine and a House of Health.

In short, Sakura would open what amounts to a carbon-copy of Konoha's Academy, training kids to become genin. From that point on, the children would get two options: either continue on the path of becoming a shinobi of Kirigakure, or join the Academy of Medicine and train as a medic-nin. All children of the village would go through the first part of the training, not only Konoha kids, and would receive complimentary medic training so that every genin, even if they don't go on to become medic-nin, have a solid understanding of chakra control and healing, in hopes of reducing field-losses.

The House of Health would be civilian medics, in every specialty, all in one place for convenience. Classes would be provided for Kiri citizens to learn first-aid or more in-depth knowledge. It would double as relief for the overcrowded Kiri hospital, taking in all non-threatening cases so that the hospital could focus entirely on its surgery division and two research labs, as well as the paediatric wing.

The House of Health would have a sub-division for monitoring pregnancies and offering a more casual environment for labour, with a few empty houses around the House, fully furnished and waiting for the soon-to-be parents. They would spend the entirety of the labour in the comfort of the provided home, going at their own pace and being on their own or with their family. And if anything goes wrong, there would be an entire House of professionals right next to the houses to give a hand when needed.

Those propositions are basically what sold the treaty to the Mizukage, despite a few clauses that she was a bit iffy on, but agreed to in the end because the prospect of a fully-functional, advanced medical system and healthcare administration, alongside trained professionals under the tutelage of the greatest medic in the world is one of those things you don't say no to, under any circumstances.

So the treaty is signed, the old Kiri Academy building is remodelled to host the new courses and the House of Health is built right next to the Konoha district. Happy endings, right?

It's another morning, another day of working a job she frankly wants no part in and that she only performs to the best of her abilities because she's aware of the weight of the enormous responsibility placed on her shoulders. You know. A typical morning.

There is a rasp on the door, barely a knock before the bamboo panel slides open. It's not meant for privacy anyway, simply there to protect the inside of the house against Kiri's weather. Sakura looks up from her paperwork, vaguely surprised to see Shikamaru standing there. Vaguely, because he's still her Councillor and they have a lot of private meetings without the rest of her advisors, and because she's way too exhausted to question anything more deeply than with mild curiosity and vague surprise.

“Hey, Shikamaru. What's the new disaster?”

Half-fallen over her desk, legs starting to sore from the extended kneeling, it takes her a moment to realize he's not moving, and he's not answering. She looks up, frowning, but what she sees on his face is enough to have her up and right in his space, taking one of his hands.

With Ino and Chōji, Shikamaru is amongst the three people she's known the longest in her life. Only her parents beat that record, and they're dead, so the three clan heirs are probably the people she knows the best as well. Living with Chōji might have made her slightly more attuned to his emotions, but the difference is inconsequential. So she knows for certain that something is wrong.

“Shikamaru?”

His lips are pressed into a thin line, his eyebrows furrowed. He's not looking her in the eye, instead looking down at their feet, still quiet. She dares a hand forward, brushing against the side of his arm before retracting, a small comfort for both of them, she hopes.

“I need your help,” he finally says through gritted teeth. With that, it seems like all the tension is drained from his body, and he looks more defeated than anything.

“You have it, always,” she answers, trying for a soothing voice but knowing her own anxiety at this weird situation is slipping through the cracks. Shikamaru has always been the stable one, the rock, and she knows, as sure as the sun rise and sets, that if he crumbles, he'll be taking her, and the entirety of Konoha with him.

He scoffs at her answer. “I never wanted you to know this. This is mine and I don't want you to know.”

She flinches a little, surprising herself by how much that hurts. For one second, Shikamaru catches it, and guilt joins the frustration and anxious expression on his face.

“I'm guessing you don't have a choice,” she says softly.

“I really, really don't.” He sighs, a sad, depressing little noise that Sakura feels all the way inside her bones. “I need you to- I need a surgery.”

Sakura's eyebrows rise in disbelief. “You... need me to operate on you? Why? What's going on? You know I can't just perform surgery on you based on your words, I need to do, at the very least, a physical exams, and maybe a few scans depending on where the problem lies.”

Shikamaru's smile is feral, self-deprecating, and she hates it so much. “Oh, trust me, you won't need to do scans.”

Sakura sighs, leaning against the way with a leg propped up.

“Would you consent to a physical exam right now? We can go to the House.”

Shikamaru shakes his head. “I don't want anyone to know there's something wrong with me. You don't need an exam room to see the problem anyway.”

She bites her lip in consideration, then nods seemingly to herself. “Alright, follow me then. We'll go to my place.”

The tension seems to bleed out of Shikamaru's shoulder and he accepts easily. Sakura leads them out of her office and into the corridor that leads to a staircase. After climbing it, Sakura slides the door panel open and walks into the part of the building that serves as her home.

Shikamaru follows her without a word until they reach one of her unoccupied bedrooms. Or that's what it used to be anyway. Shikamaru raises an eyebrow, looking at her questioningly. She gives him an awkward smile, gesturing at the miniaturized operation room and the drawers upon drawers of medical equipment.

“Look, you have no idea how many people just barge in through my window after a mission, Mist and Fire alike, just because they don't feel safe going to the hospital. Post-mission paranoia is real enough that I'm willing to indulge them, and I refuse to let a disaster happen at the hospital just because I want my beauty sleep.”

He nods, the reasoning sensible enough. It's not like she needs the four bedrooms anyway, given that she lives alone.

(silently, he wonders about that, why she's never dating, why she's never showing signs of being interested by anyone. He wonders how anyone can work as much as she does and not want to come home to someone who wants to take care of you. Dating, post-war, is awkward. No one wants to actively seek out partners, because everyone is just a little too depressed to be able to make the efforts required to have a healthy, communicative relationship. But on the other hand, a good bunch of them are getting desperate. He can't really talk, he's single too, but at least he's dated before, civilians and shinobi alike, and he knows how important it can be not to be alone)

(she's always been alone)

“Well, we're alone and I've got everything I need. Do you want to tell me what's going on, now?”

The knot is back in his stomach, and Sakura looks like she knows exactly how little he wants to talk about this. Not that any of her patients is ever easy, unless they're civilians, but she doesn't tell him that, because she wants him to trust her sometimes this year and not worsen the situation.

Eventually, Shikamaru sighs, and begins to unhook the clasps of his flack jacket. Sakura nods, satisfied, and brings the tray with her basic equipment closer. She already has her stethoscope around her neck and the monitor for his blood pressure, when he takes his shirt off, and really, she has to put down everything now, doesn't she, because it's obvious what's going on.

Shikamaru self-consciously crosses his arms in front of his chest, but it's not enough to cover the two scars running across his upper torso.

She sighs, dropping the monitor back on the tray, and looks at him, head slightly tilted.

“Does anyone else know?” she asks, more to get him to talk than because she needs to know. She has to get him to relax, to trust her with this.

“My parents, obviously. Ino's and Chōji's parents too. And the surgeon who did this, he was one of the first to openly do those surgeries, so my parents brought me all the way to Kumo to see him. He's- like me.”

“Thank you for sharing this with me, Shikamaru. It does me great honor to know you find me worthy of who you are.”

“I- Sakura, I need to know if... will you see me differently now?”

She's never seen him like this, so uncertain, so out of place. He's so confident and calm, such a driving force for their people. She hates to see him like this. Sakura offers her hand, in the space between them, and Shikamaru uncrosses his arms to take it without even pausing. She smiles softly, touched.

“Do you see me differently for my own scars, Shika?” With her free hand, she bunches her shirt up to show her midsection and the seven, thumb-long scars scattered on her skin. “Sasori skewered me like dango on a stick. His spikes were thorough and touched all of my lower organs. I have a fake portion of small intestine and I'll never be able to have a child. Do you see me differently, knowing my scars?” she asks again.

He's looking at her with wide eyes and a deep, bleak sorrow that they all learned from the war, when grief and tears could put you in danger and you needed to get over things quickly on the outside, only to break down on the inside later.

“I'm sorry,” he says quietly.

She shrugs. “I'm not. I killed an akatsuki member, someone who would have kept hurting people again and again, and both Gaara and Kankuro survived because I was a part of this mission. I won't ever regret losing a few pieces of meat if someone's life is on the line.”

She squeezes his hand, a small smile on her face.

“So, about that surgery. Were you asking about a cosmetic procedure, to make all the scarring disappear? Or were you thinking about bottom surgery?”

Shikamaru frowns, and she can see the cool, confident guy coming back little by little, putting a happy smile on her face. “I didn't know you could do something for the scarring. In that case, both I suppose.”

“Why come now? Why not before the war, or right after? Did something change?” She hates to ask personal questions when he already seems so uneasy, but she can't agree to anything without all the facts.

“Before the war, the surgeon we went to used to send me parcels with shots and creams. He stopped, I don't know if it's because of shortage, or not knowing where to send it, or-” Or maybe he's dead, she thinks but doesn't say. “I ran out of shots two months ago and I was fine for a while, but I- it came back,” he says awkwardly, a plea in his eyes for her to understand without him having to say it. She nods quickly, refusing to let him worry. “I can't live like this. I'm miserable, Sakura.”

To hear those words, from the kind of man Shikamaru is, is heartbreaking. He deserves nothing less than happiness and fulfillment, after everything he went through being the youngest chūnin, then the youngest jōnin, then a War Councillor. Someone as calm and reliable and smart as Shikamaru shouldn't be miserable. Not on my watch. Maybe being Hokage will finally do her some good, if it means she gets to help him feel good again.

Sakura nods, weighting her words carefully before speaking. “Well, the scarring I can take care of right now, it's quick and painless. However, for your surgery, I need to know what result you want. Size, shape, do you want to be able to have biological children, all of that.”

He doesn't try to hide his relief when she doesn't push or try to have him talk more about his mental health. Not that I won't later, she thinks, but she can cut him so slack right now, given hos vulnerable he must feel.

Shikamaru is silent for a long time, eyes downward on his hand in hers, looking deep in thought. She wraps her other hand around his, pressing gently to show her support.

“I have a feeling you're exponentially more competent than the man I saw when I was younger. He only had one option for me, and a pretty scary one. But I'd like to reduce the scarring now, yes. I haven't taken my shirt off in public my entire life.”

Sakura smirks, dirty and unashamed. “Oh trust me, it was for the best. You have no idea the talk I've heard in the onsen about the comparison some of the kunoichi and jōnin make. I think a good portion of them is keeping a tally and you staying as cool as a cucumber whenever they try to get in your pants is making you the grand prize of their little competition.”

He grins, a small blush on his face that Sakura doesn't comment on. “I'm not Sasuke or Naruto, I don't have an urge to flash everyone when I'm fighting bad guys.”

Sakura bursts out laughing, the joke so unexpected it releases all the tension she hadn't noticed was left in the room. It's the first time she laughed thinking about them ever since the war, and being suddenly the last living member of a cursed team. Feeling almost giddy with being able to laugh again, she raises their joined hands and kisses his knuckles. He looks at her with wide eyes, his blush even more noticeable now.

“Right, options,” she says, wiping a tear. “Lay down for me, will you? I'll start working while I explain.”

He obeys, laying down on the examination table while her hands light up in green. She gets closer, bending slightly over him to have better access, then her palms slowly swipe over his chest, her chakra coaxing his cells into duplicating faster and cloning the genetic makeup of the older, original cells around the scars. Slowly, the two raises lines begin to smooth and loose their color.

“So there's an invasive procedure, and even more invasive procedure.” Shikamaru snorts in nervous laughter and she gives him a wry smile. “The first one involves using the unneeded tissue from what's already there and constructing a penis using what your body knows to be his. With implants, you'll get testicles, and connecting nerves will give you sensation. You will be able to get a full erection, but because I'm only using pre-existing tissues, your result will remain small compared to the average.”

She can see that he's listening intensely, but his blush has crept onto his neck despite her using very clinical language. She finds it absolutely adorable but she doesn't fancy being choked to death by her own shadow so she doesn't mention it. She doesn't say it either, but she's so proud of him it warms her up from the inside.

“The more invasive surgery starts with me collecting sample from you to be grown in lab so I can get enough skin and nerves and muscle made of your genetic makeup to basically construct a penis of the size and shape of your choice. Once attached, just like the other option, it'll be fully functional, sensitive and responsive. Now in both cases, you'll have a choice between implants to give your testicles the appropriate shape, or they can also be grown in lab and I can use your eggs to synthesize sperm glands and make you fertile.”

Sakura leans back, her hands loosing their green tint. Shikamaru sits up, staring down at his chest with wide eyes, tracing with his fingers the smooth skin where his scars used to be and where nothing is left now but an absolutely normal chest.

“Now bear in mind that I've only theoretically managed a successful transplant to make someone fertile, but I was doing the opposite procedure on a woman. When you break it down, it's exactly the same process and I've synthesized it all before, but I've never done it on a man, simply because I was never asked to. I'm certain I can pull it off, but you know, warnings and all thaaa-wow!”

Sakura can't stop the shriek of surprise when Shikamaru draws her in for the strongest hug of her life. She flails for a moment before she manages to wrap her pinned arms around his waist, his own circling her shoulder and crushing her against his bare chest. Shikamaru hides his face in her neck, and she stops the words that were about to leave her mouth when she feels the first tear drop into her neck and roll down her chest.

He's crying silently, face scrunched up enough that she can feel it against her skin. She caresses his back, drawing patterns over his warm skin, and she hums gently, rocking them together to the rhythm of a song she can barely remember.

“Thank you,” he manages, his lips moving against the fragile skin of her neck.

“Always, Shikamaru. I promise.”

She doesn't move any more than her rocking his large, warm body, waiting for the storm to pass, for the clouds to part enough that they can see the stars. Finally, he releases her, rubbing harshly on his skin until she gives him a tissue. His eyes are red and puffy and his cheeks rubbed raw, but he's he most beautiful thing she's ever seen.

“I'll take the second option,” he finally says, clearing his throat when his voice cracks. “Including the fertility package. Do you do a price for family?” The joke is weak but he's trying and she's so proud she might just choke on it so she laughs and she draws him into a side hug, his head resting on her shoulder.

“Put some clothes on, exhibitionist. Let's get out of here and we'll talk more about this later, yeah?”

He nods silently and complies, following her out of the house and into the streets of Kiri. Time passed quickly and it's already well into the night. Without saying a word, Shikamaru takes her hand and laces their fingers together. She gives him a smile, shaking with excitement and giddy with the novelty of simply walking hand in hand with someone. The people of the Konoha District give them long looks, but their eyes are kind and their smiles wide, happy to see their leader finally take something for herself.

Kiri's night sky is beautiful, so different from the one in Konoha, often hidden in clouds. Here, they can see every single star winking at them from their shimmering clusters, count the constellations drawing patterns into the darkness of the void, watch galaxies form and die as they live day by day in their new normal.

“Hey, Sakura?”

She hums in response, looking away from the beautiful canvas of the sky. He's looking at her like she's personally responsible for every star shining above them, and her heart picks up.

“Can I take you out to dinner?”

She breathes in the joy, grins wide. “Of course you can.”

He blushes again, and it's her new favorite thing, she could watch him for hours. She's so happy and humbled that he trusted her with himself like that.

“On one condition, though.”

He does his best to hide his nervousness when he answers, “What is it?”

“Money upfront for the surgery, Nara. I want a kiss before the fourth date.”

He giggles, high and pretty, and even he seems surprised by it. “You've got yourself a deal, Hokage-sama.”

#shikasakuweek #shikasakuhanami #shikasaku #shikasakuhanami2020 #naruto #my writing

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mysweetestcreature · 5 years

Text

Tomorrow Never Knows (President!Harry) Chapter 3: Bloom

(Banner by the wonderful noblewomankat!)

***

Masterlist

***

Monday, September 22, 2008

Monday morning comes quicker than expected, but for Y/n, it couldn’t have come soon enough. All weekend the only thing she could think about was how Harry had been so close –– literally so close –– to kissing her in her living room. How she pretended to be calm in front of her family all weekend utterly baffles her.

The last time she’d had a crush so tremendous had been in the summer after sixth grade when her mom had signed them up for a mother-daughter cooking class, and one of the mom’s had brought her son by mistake. He was a year older and could make the most delicious Pad Thai in all of Central Jersey. Even then, however; she had never felt all these butterflies in her tummy that would consistently flutter about when Harry just so much as looked at her.

She arrives on campus a little earlier than usual, probably because she’d woken up so excited to get ready for the day. Her dad had been terribly confused to find her sitting on the countertop, all dressed and ready to be dropped off on his way to work (she’d even packed him his favorite lunch as a bribe).

As of now, it’s just her and the breeze that gently lifts the strands of her relaxed hair. The school looks so pretty at this hour, with the birds chirping happily in their nests, and the cute little woodland creatures that are usually hidden away in the bushes, roaming freely across the lawn. Only a few other students join her at this hour, but they’re all stowed away in the building, taking this breathtaking scene for granted. She breathes it all in and allows for her head to fall against the bench’s backrest.

“Hey.” The sudden hum of his deep voice startles her, and her head snaps up to find him standing right in front of her and looking like he’d just stepped off the cover of some teen magazine that she skims through while in line at Shop Rite.

“Hi,” she tries her best, but she can’t help the wide smile that dresses over her features. She signals down to the empty spot beside her. He gladly accepts it, dropping his bookbag on the grass and plopping down next to her. Her thumbs fiddle with each other in her lap, as she sucks on her top front teeth before speaking up again. “How was your weekend?”

“It was fine,” he answers simply.

“Do anything fun?”

“Eh.”

The words bounce around in her mouth with the undeniable need to talk about last Friday. But he’s being far too detached in his manner of speaking, that she wonders how she’ll ever go about starting up such an important –– yes, she’s labelling it as a top priority –– conversation. She supposes that it is the beginning of the week, and maybe now that she’s had a better look at him he does appear a tad tired, judging from the bags under his eyelids and the way he suppresses a long yawn into his sleeve. Still, though! How is she going to accumulate confidence when he’s barely alive enough to respond?

He turns to look at her. “Yours?”

She stares intently at him. “Terrible! So stupidly terrible! It was so damn hard because all I could think about was how you almost kissed me but didn’t because my little brother interrupted us and totally hogged your attention for the rest of the afternoon! And now all I want to do is talk about it because I may or may not like you as more than a friend! AGH!” It’s what she’s dying to tell him, but rather she blinks her eyes before letting her head falter in defeat.

“It was fine.”

***

“He did what!?” Maxxie nearly falls over in his seat at the reception of the news.

“Will you hush up!” Y/n shushes, smacking him in the face with her three-subject Biology notebook (she thought it’d be more impactful than a flimsy folder). “Besides, nothing happened.” And yet she so badly wishes that weren’t the case because at least it wouldn’t have trapped her in such a spot of complete unknowing.

“It’s true,” Cici inserts, leaning in from the adjacent side of the lab table. “She told me when she picked me up after I climbed out the window at Café Agira.”

Maxxie stares at Cici with the most baffled expression. “You-... You know what? I’m not even gonna ask,” he talks at her before turning back to Y/n. “You on the other hand, I am very interested in learning about this thing between you and our local Brit.”

She sighs, dropping her cheek in her palm and tracing nonsensical images onto the surface of the table with her pointer. “I was gonna talk to him about it before homeroom, but I don’t know...he seemed really out of it.” Her eyes shut with grievance. “What if he regrets it? Is that why he’s being all distant?” After all, she’d been a bit emotional, and he’d been there to comfort her. It’s a scene out of over a dozen films.

Both her friends give each other a knowing look before hopping their stools closer to the middle. Cici envelops her in a tight hug. “You, my friend, need to be more confident,” she says softly, playing with the ends of hair. “Tell her what you know, Max.”

Y/n glances at the blonde as he leans in to join the huddle. “Okay, so I heard from Evan, who heard from Jake, who heard from Kara, who heard from Lori, who heard from Bailey, who heard from Rishav, who heard from his sister Aavani, who is dating Angelo, who heard from Mike, who heard from Trish, who heard from Brent, who is on the football team with Harry...” He pauses, gasping for air after such a difficult and trying verbal marathon. “...and he heard Harry going on about how he’s really into this girl he’s friends with.”

They’d expected this to lift her spirits up, but instead she lets out another dismal sigh. “Harry’s friends with a lot of girls. Remember last week when those girls from his English class made him sit with them? He could be talking about anyone.”

Cici glares over her head, nostrils flaring angrily for Maxxie to fix this slump of a mood their best friend is trapped in.

***

The next time Harry sees her is in History class, and he’d spent all of US Politics trying to formulate cohesive thoughts that he hoped would process into audible words. This morning had been a bit off for him, he realized that as soon as they had parted ways towards their respective homerooms. He hadn’t meant to be so standoffish, but he had an extra early practice and by the time he saw her, he was already thoroughly exhausted and wanting nothing more than to curl up somewhere and take a long nap.

Now he’s had time to rejuvenate and collect himself into something he’ll actually be able to present to her. Hopefully she doesn’t think any less of him, or change her opinion based on one measly fail of an encounter. He remains positive because he’s really been meaning to talk to her about a couple days ago, how he had come within centimeters of pressing his lips to hers because he really couldn’t hold back any longer. She’s just so cute and sweet and funny, and overall he just loves being around her. And okay, he’d meant to text or call her to say just that, but couldn’t figure out how to organize his scattered brain into something relatively sensible. He won’t deny that she has this power over him that he can’t quite describe, let alone express through his seemingly fading vernacular.

She walks in, making sure to greet Mr. Noone with a smile and a bag full of another delicious dessert. He tries to listen in as she makes conversation, which soon turns into her hounding the elderly man for yet another one of her Tupperware containers. “I’m pretty sure you have five now! At least give me three of those back. Dad had nowhere to put our leftovers last night!” he hears her whine. The way she pouts her lips and huffs as she stomps away is undeniably one of the cutest things she does –– he thinks so, at least.

When she’s within close proximity, he sits up straight in his chair and pushes back his mop of brown curls away from his eyes. “About this morning,” he starts slowly, finding his rhythm with his tongue. “I was so drained from practice and literally I thought I was gonna pass out...”

“It’s fine, no big deal,” she says curtly, setting her stuff down and taking her seat without so much as peeking an eye his way.

His mouth curls to the side. He’s by no means an expert on women, but if living his whole life with his mum and sister had taught him anything, he’d have to be completely daft to actually believe that she’s completely dandy. “No, it’s not. You’re mad at me.” He places his arm around her chair and shifts closer. “I’m sorry..” he pouts, the side hand brushing slightly over her back where he knows she’s ticklish, but she doesn’t even flinch. “C’mon, at least look at me. I don’t like it when you’re mad at me.”

She keeps her eyes set on her lap. “Harry, I said-” But she stops when the shadow of a figure looms over their table, and they both peer up hesitantly to meet Mr. Noone towering above them.

“If you two could postpone this lovers quarrel until after my class, that’d be most appreciated.”

***

After class, Harry follows their history teacher’s advice, and chases after Y/n as she squeezes her way through the pile of students to escape. She takes solace, however, in the knowledge that she can hide away in the library or the Home Ec. Room for the next fifty-five minutes and won’t have to talk to him until lunch time. And yet, she groans inwardly when she hears her name being echoed in the crowded corridor, accompanied by his hasty footsteps that as the push off the floor with each brisk stride.

“Y/n!” he wheezes, finally catching up to her. She gives in, feeling a slight pang of guilt (emphasis on slight) run through her, and pivots on her heel. “Christ, you walk fast.” He hoists himself up, using his knees as support as he takes in a few deep breaths through his nostrils.

“Don’t you have class?” she tuts, crossing her arms and stomping the toe of her shoe in utter annoyance.

“Not until you accept my apology.”

She throws her hands up in the air. “And I keep telling you that everything is fine! So, please get your butt up to Debate or else you’ll be marked as tardy and I don’t want you to be late because of me.”

A smirk finds its way to his lips. “At least I know you care,” he cheeks, nudging her gently with his elbow. He can see how she fights off a grin as she turns her head as afar as it can go. No matter how hard she tries to hide it, he still manages to bring it out of her. “There it is!”

“I just don’t want that on my conscience,” she snoots, but she knows how unconvincing this whole charade is. He slings an arm around her before she can even come up with another thing to say as if it was the most natural thing. She looks at where his veiny hand comes through the other side, poking through the slope of her neck and lazily hanging off her shoulder. “Um, hello?” she gawks, but instead of answering, he leads her down the hall and towards the tunnel to the next the building. “At least tell me where we’re going.”

“You’re gonna teach me how to bake!”

“But what about-”

He cuts her off with two fingers pressed to her lips, simply shaking his head as he holds the door open. What’s more annoying is that she likes how this feel, and how oddly organic it is for their footsteps to sync up like a well-oiled machine. And please, someone stop her from wanting to stay like this for longer or thinking about how cold she’ll be once this protective belt disappears.

***

Saturday, September 27, 2008

It’s been a little over a week since Harry had come over to study, and in that week, they still haven’t opened up on the subject. And to be quite frank, it’s been driving Y/n absolutely bonkers! She still doesn’t know where this puts them, or whether she’s looking too far into the situation and she should save herself the embarrassment and forget anything had ever happened.

Right now, it’s about ten in the morning, and Y/n is still lying in bed trying to figure out these pesky feelings. On a typical Saturday morning she would have already whipped up some breakfast for her family, but now she can barely focus on anything but checking if he’s sent her a new text.

A knock on the door brings her out of it, and she answers back in an aloof tone. “Come in.” Her eyes lazily flick over in its direction as the hinges begin to squeak. When the person pokes his head in, the look on his face is already too much for her handle in this state. She pulls the covers over her head to hide herself.

“Hi, Dad! Good Morning, Dad! How’re you doing today, Dad?” he mocks, striding further into the room. “I bet that’s what other parents get.” She feels the bed dip in by her feet. “Alright, kid. Time to join us in the world of the living.” Very slowly does she feel her blanket being stripped away, until the light from her suddenly exposed window burns brightly on her pupils. “Or else your mom is going to have to come up here, and she’s a lot stronger than I am.”

“Dad, please,” she whines, and battles him out in a game of tug-of-war for her sheets. “I’m having a crisis here!”

“You’re fourteen,” he deadpans. No one could have ever prepared him for the task of having to raise a teenager, he lets his wife know that every morning when he wakes up. In fact, he calls the theme of their little morning chats “complaining rigorously about parenting” or C. R. A. P. as he so fondly refers to it as. Liv isn’t too keen on the acronym, and she lets him know that every single time.

“You’re a boy, right?” she suddenly asks, and she sits up and hugs her knees tightly to her chest.

Jeremy scoffs loudly. “Who’s to say?” But his daughter stares at him with an unwavering seriousness that he swears she must get from her mother because he can barely intimidate his son into taking a bath. Curse Olivia’s prominent genes! “Okay, fine. Yes. Happy?”

“Very,” she smirks, inching closer, but her demeanor soon switches to a less playful glow. “How do you know if a boy likes you? Like really likes you.” She rests the side of her face on her bended knees and closes her eyes.

“I don’t think I understand the question.”

“Of course, you don’t, honey.”

Olivia waltzes in with a basket of freshly washed and folded clothes balanced on her hip and a warm bagel in the other hand. “You can leave now. I got this,” she tells her husband, shooing him out the door.

“Oh, thank god!” he sighs out in relief and runs out the room, but not without giving his wife a tender kiss on the cheek and a wishful “good luck!”

That leaves both women to sort it all out on their own. Olivia sets everything down before taking Jeremy’s place on the bed. She breathes in deeply and exhales with a warm smile.

“So, who’re we talking about?”

“Remember that boy who came over last week?”

It takes a good minute for Olivia to track back to such a long time ago (this last week had been so busy at the clinic so she tends to let other irrelevant details slip her mind), before nodding her head when she finally remembers. “You mean Harry, right? He was such a sweet boy, and so good with Mason, too!” she gushes, clapping her hands as she recalls the kind British boy. Y/n gives her a look, and she soon realizes what this is all about. “Oh, my baby.” And she brings her daughter in for a big hug.

“I don’t know what to do,” Y/n mutters into her shirt. “Every time I think I’m going to tell him, I end up chickening out. I hate it!” All the pent-up frustration that had been building up for exactly a week is now coming into light. “Mom, I really like him, like really like Harry. And I don’t know what I’m going to do because he’s all I can think about and it’s literally making me lose my mind!”

“Why is that?” Olivia asks, stroking over the length of her hair.

“Because...” Y/n starts, taking a pause. “Because he tried to kiss me, but it didn’t happen, and we haven’t talked about it since. And now I’m scared that it was just an ‘in the moment’ thing and he probably doesn’t feel the same way and I’m getting my hopes up over absolutely nothing.”

Liv takes Y/n by the shoulders to face her directly. “First of all, breathe.” She guides her through some breathing exercises to get her elevated heart rate back to normal. “Second...but what if he does feel the same way? Isn’t knowing for sure better than not taking a chance at all?”

***

Thursday, October 2, 2008

Harry is just about done and ready to head out when he feels a tap on his shoulder.

“Hi, Harry!” Zoey greets cheerfully, twirling her skirt as she twists her hips.

“Hey,” he nods as he stuffs his copy of The Scarlet Letter in his bag. He looks left and right to find that it’s only them two left in the hall. It didn’t even occur to him how late he’d stayed back to talk to Miss Arelleno about an upcoming book report because he wanted to make sure that his choice of literature would be appropriate to present on. (Luckily, it was! And he had already managed to outline all the key points he was going to accentuate on.)

“I was actually hoping I’d find you here,” she admits, leaning against his locker door.

“Yeah?” Harry replies, but honestly, he’s barely paying attention because for some reason he can’t seem to find his house keys in his pockets. If he doesn’t find them, he’s absolutely fucked because Gemma doesn’t get home until tonight and Anne is out of town on business. “Sorry, I’m...” Aha! He’d forgotten that he’d placed them –– along with his phone –– in his cardigan pocket before football practice. “What were you saying?” He’s much more attentive this time around.

She steps closer to him. “I was wondering if you wanted to check out this new diner with me? It’s called Ruben’s and I heard their milkshakes are supposed to be amazing! Plus...” she starts, looking up at him through her long lashes. “The big game is tomorrow and I thought I could help you relax.”

“Um...” Harry purses his lips together. “I’m actually going there with Y/n,” he says with a faint blush. “You’re welcome to join us, if you’d like?”

A tight smile replaces the flirtatious one she’d been sporting this whole time. She backs away, placing her hands firmly on her hips with displeasure. “No, I wouldn’t want to intrude,” she grits out.

He stares down at his watch, his eyes growing wide when he realizes he’s already two minutes late. “Oh, okay” he loosely responds. “Hey, I have to get going, but I’ll see you around.” And he starts jogging down the corridor towards the library where he and Y/n had agreed to meet.

***

Friday, October 3, 2008

The game against Pleasant Valley has finally arrived. The entire school must be in attendance, as the screams and chants coming from outside are almost deafening. Harry sits on the bench in the locker room as he makes sure his cleats are tied nice and tight. To say he’s nervous may be an understatement. If his time at Ashwood has taught him anything, it’s that they really, really hate Pleasant Valley with a passion to burn a million candles. Just the other day, Coach Davis had given him a very thorough history lesson about the ongoing feud, ending it by begging him to lead them to a victory or else their pride as a school would cease to exist. No pressure, right?

“Styles!” He turns around to see Coach Davis standing right behind him with his arms crossed and face as serious as can be. “You have a visitor outside,” he says, signaling towards the door.

“Who?” he asks thoughtfully.

“Heck if I know. Some cheerleader.”

Harry’s eyes widen, and a relieved grin washes over his features. He ignores the cackles from his teammates, including teasing about him getting a pre-game reward in an empty classroom. The coach looks at him pointedly, as to say he better make this meeting quick or there would certainly be hell to pay. Harry gulps, slowly slipping off the bench before making a break for the exit.

When he pushes his way out, there she is standing in midst of the trophy case lighting. He takes a moment to appreciate how angelic she is with her hair pulled back in a braid, and how completely and utterly adorable she looks with the double-knit crossover jacket that embodies her upper frame. She glimpses up, and immediately he feels all the tenseness in his body wash away because she really might be his all-in-one remedy for just about anything. And fuck, he really wishes he could tell her that and all else that’s been simmering inside of him.

“Hey there, Mr. Quarterback.”

“Come to wish me luck?”

She cocks her head to the side and simpers at him. “Something like that.”

Harry laughs, his shoulders jittering underneath all the padding. Then he takes the first step forward. “Well I’m happy you’re here,” he says. He moves another inch towards her. Reaching out, he grazes the top of her forearm with the pads of his fingers, letting his hand drop down its length until it dares to engulf the back of her open fist. A blush creeps up his neck, and he’s thankful that the hallway is dimly lit this time of night, or else she’d see how completely swept he is just by holding her.

And yet, he’s not the only one. Her mind has to remind her heart how to function, but the way he’s looking at her leaves everything a haze. “There’s something I need to tell you,” she confesses, suddenly remembering why it is she’s here. His digits fill the spaces between hers as his thumb encouragingly rubs over the back of hand. It’s pleasantly warm and soft, and she wouldn’t mind if they were to stand there into next week. He prods her to continue, the side of his mouth tugging up and his dimple carving in so exquisitely. She inhales deeply through her nose.

“Harry, I-”

“Styles!”

She bites on her bottom lip when Coach Davis appears at the door with his whistle held between his gritted teeth. In no way does he look amused by the fact that one of his key players isn’t inside prepping with the rest of the team.

“I’ll be there in a sec, Coach,” Harry yells over his shoulder. He rolls his eyes when he turns back to her. “Sorry, he’s just going through it right now,” he chuckles, shaking his head. “What were you saying?” He squeezes her hand.

“I, um...” She looks past him, and the burly individual still stands there so menacingly. He clears his voice and makes a show out of staring at the time on his watch. “You know what,” she gulps. “I’ll just tell you later.” She tries her best to hide her disappointment.

“You sure? I mean I have a few more minutes until-”

“Styles!”

Who knew one man could be so impatient? (Oh, wait...) Y/n nods robotically. “I’m sure.” So much for that.

A smile suddenly creeps back to her face when a thought lights up in her head. “Here,” she starts, but he begins to frown when she pulls her hand from his grasp. However, his mouth soon becomes a barren stage when she sets both her palms upon his chest, using him as a pillar to lift herself up onto her toes. Without warning, her lips press gently to his cheek. They’re soft and plushy, and everything he imagined they’d be. If he couldn’t feel Davis’ eyes burning holes in the back of his head, he’d be sure this was all a dream. “Win this one for me, and I’ll tell you.” And with that, she falls back flat on her feet, letting her arms fall from his body as she backs away.

It takes everything in him to resist the urge to follow her. As soon as her figure disappears into the dark of the hallway, he allows himself to be dragged back into the locker room, his limbs feeling like complete jelly.

***

“Where’ve you been?” Cici asks her when she joins the rest of the cheerleaders on the field. She had excused herself to use the restroom over fifteen minutes ago, and now here she is looking as though she’d won a grand raffle.

Y/n doesn’t answer, however; she fails miserably to hide even an ounce of her excitement. Despite still not having told him, she hopes that the kiss to cheek will give him even just the slightest hint about her feelings for him. In that moment, she had felt courageous, and now that exuberance is still bursting within her. She sits down and starts with some simple hamstring stretches, while the corners of her mouth still remain turned up.

“Oh my god, did you finally tell him?” Cici screams. “What did he say? Holy crap!”

“I wasn’t able to, no,” Y/n hums.

“Then why do you look so happy?”

Before she can answer, another voice beats her to it. “Yeah, Y/n. Why so happy?” Zoey pushes past a some of the cheerleaders, each sway of her hips greatly emphasized as she walks. “Excited to see Harry lead the team to victory?” she taunts. “Doesn’t he just look amazing in his uniform? Like literally so hot.” She lifts her curled hair away from her neck, and exaggerates as she fans herself. The two minions behind her begin to snigger.

Cici resists the urge to smack her in the face, just looking at her makes the blood in her veins boil violently.

Although, Y/n remains close-lipped and shrugs without interest at the girl because at this point, she isn’t worth wasting a breath on. She continues with her warmup, not even bothering to look up. Cici smirks on her behalf, waving her hand to send her away. “Why don’t you crawl back to whatever toxic pit you came from, hm?” she mocks. “Buh-bye, now!” Zoey rolls her eyes, snapping her fingers in the air signaling for her two shadows to retreat. “I swear to God, I could honestly strangle her,” Cici exasperates, falling to the ground to joining her.

“Don’t worry about her too much, she just wants attention.” Not even Zoey can ruin her mood tonight.

A few minutes later, their coach is having them get in position to start their routine for when the football team runs out onto the field.

***

“With only ten seconds left on the clock, the Ashwood Eagles need one last touchdown to beat the Pleasant Valley Lions.”

There are only nine yards separating them and a claimed victory.

Ashwood takes their last timeout of the game, and the boys huddle to discuss this crucial next move. Everyone is exhausted, it’s evident by both the sweat on their faces and the way their movements aren’t as aggressive as they were in the beginning. But they can’t give up. With only one touchdown needed to guarantee a win, they need to tough it out for one final play.

“They’ve got me, and Adrian guarded,” one of the wide receivers, Brent tells them. “And with Clint out, we’re gonna need a new play.”

The captain, Connor, turns to Harry. “Styles, what do you think?” The rest of the team follows suite, and all eyes are on him.

Harry looks at each of their faces, his breathing becoming quicker and less calculated as he feels the pressure of the countdown begin to set in. A single touchdown is all that separates them from the quarterfinals, from bragging rights for beating their worst competitor, and finally...

On the sidelines, the cheerleaders cheer them on without falter, with intricate moves that display both agility and overall school spirit. But only one holds his attention. He smiles brightly when their eyes meet. Her lips wrap around words of encouragement. You can do it! And it’s accompanied by a kiss in the wind. With that, he can feel power begin to sting in his fingertips and that last push to get his head back in the game. After this is all over, nothing is going to stop him from getting to her.

“Okay, so here’s what we’re gonna do.”

***

The crowd becomes silent once time-in is called.

At the nine-yard line, Harry shout the play to his teammates, patting his own helmet to finish it off. He prepares himself for when the center snaps the ball back.

“HIKE!”

The sight of time depleting becomes harder to watch. Richardson snaps the football between his legs, and Harry catches it with ease. The Lions rush towards them, clashing with their defensive line in an almost violent opposition. All hope fades with each one of the receivers being heavily blocked from range. Coach Davis screams at the top of his lungs, calling for Harry to do something as the final five seconds dwindle down.

Like slow motion, Harry dashes down the remaining length of the field. The cold October air hitting his cheeks as he runs as fast as his legs can afford. All the shouting coming from around him fades from his ears. He dodges those who rush towards him, leaping over a defensive tackle like his life depends on it.

“THAT’S A TOUCHDOWN FOR ASHWOOD!”

Harry throws the football to the ground. He screams in triumph, tearing the helmet away from his head and letting the breeze brush away the beads of sweat as they fall from the tips of his tussled hair. The team comes at him like a stampede, each member holding the same charged enthusiasm as his own.

At this moment, he feels invincible. The adrenaline still flowing vigorously through his veins as he basks in this victory. Everyone runs onto the field, all the coaches, benched players, and all else present on the sidelines.

***

Y/n tries to squeeze her way through a sea of excitable fans to get to him.

This is it. He had won the game just as she had asked of him. Now she’s left with no choice but to finally confess all that she’s been wanting to say. Everything she feels and all that’s been winding her head are finally going to be put out in the open, just as her mom had advised her when they had their heart-to-heart. And for once, she isn’t nervous that she’ll panic or recoil because she’s positive that these feelings are real, that he’s real, and what they have has the potential to become something wonderful. There’s absolutely no reason for her to believe otherwise. It all excites her to the very core, and the closer she gets to reaching him, the more she feels these tingling nerves come alive.

“Harry!” she shouts for him as loudly as she can but even then, she’s still too far for him to hear her. To make things more difficult, two football players nearly sandwich her when they come together to bump shoulders with such alarming force. She pushes her way through the pair, her breath catching in her throat when she sees the back of his jersey.

When she gets within a closer radius, he finally hears her voice call his name. A smile that reaches his eyes dawns upon him when he turns around and sees her standing just a short distance away. She feels her heart race as she slows her pace to a steady walk.

Out of nowhere, a wave of auburn locks cuts in front of her in those last remaining steps. Y/n is brought to a sudden stop as she tries to avoid colliding with the her back. She leans to the side to see Harry staring at the girl with furrowed brows. A smirk comes from over the girl’s shoulder before she turns to come face to face with the quarterback.

Zoey takes either side of Harry’s face in her hands and pulls him down, and their lips meet halfway.

And Y/n’s beating heart stops. ***

#president!harry #harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles au #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles drabble #one direction #one direction fanfiction

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damienthepious · 5 years

Text

it’s still tuesday here for THREE MORE HOURS i didn’t heckin miss it i made it

Like Whispering

[ao3]

[Fandom: The Penumbra Podcast

Relationship: Lord Arum/Sir Damien/Rilla

Characters: Rilla, Lord Arum, Sir Damien

Additional Tags: Fluff without Plot, Literal Sleeping Together, Sleepy Cuddles, (basically just a deep dive into monster anatomy), (and Rilla's incessant hunger to understand things), (i'll be real with you this one is weird), (but i like the ending and i need something to post for the IMPORTANT DAY), Lizard Kissin' Tuesday, (i hope y'all care to hang with me while i unpack a buncha headcanons about Arum's body!!!!)

Summary: Rilla examines the fascinating landscape of her monstrous lover while he sleeps.

Notes: I don't even know anymore fam I hope SOMEONE besides me enjoys this at least. There is at least one Lizard Kiss this time, thank the Saints. Rated T for implications of sex in the past. Title take from the song 3 Rounds and a Sound by Blind Pilot. ]

Rilla will never stop being fascinated by Arum.

He sleeps beside her, between she and Damien, and even that is a thousand page treatise on the concept of trust that she wants to memorize front to back. When he sleeps alone he curls into a ball, tail wrapped around himself like a cat, but in the bed they share he is more apt to sprawl, hand and hand and hand and hand reaching out until they can find a soft source of warmth, until he can pull his lovers close against him and curl around them instead.

It’s easier to really learn him, in sleep. He tends to get irritable with her if she stares at him too long in the daylight. Which is fair, Rilla reasons. Analyzing the bone structure of your monster is a process that requires more direct observation than anyone would reasonably call polite… but Rilla can’t help herself.

Arum’s body is like a puzzle in some ways. Like four or five puzzles piled up together, actually. She’s been taking notes about the subject in longhand, in code, because she doesn’t think he’d appreciate her trying to categorize him so thoroughly- but it isn’t even about the science, anymore. The inhumanity of him, the irrationality; it draws her in. Curiosity has always been Rilla’s weakness, and Lord Arum is a curious creature indeed.

She wants to know him. Every part of him.

She can’t decide, yet, how to organize her observations; mostly she tries to take him part by part, layer by riveting layer.

She has pages dedicated to his eyes. The first thing she learned about him, really, was that he could see better in the dark than a human, and his eyes only got more interesting from there. Diamond-shaped pupils blow out wide in the dark or with arousal, or narrow into thin, dangerous slits when he’s focused. Irises, bright violet. Bright like actual violets, saturated and bold with narrow flecks of a darker shade arranged around the pupil in a subtle starburst. She and Damien must be the only creatures alive who have gotten close enough to see those flecks of plum among the violet, the only people he would trust enough to let that close. He lets them close enough to see, and then he allows his eyes to close regardless, a set of nictitating membranes sliding horizontally over the purple before his proper eyelids close as well.

Another fascinating layer, those membranes. They’re translucent but fogged gray, waterproof, protective; she’s noticed them slipping closed without the outer lids when he’s startled, or when he happens to go out in the rain [a note on his clothing in the rain: it is waterproof as well, though whether that is through magic or the skill of monsters’ weave is impossible to determine, and when she asks for clarification Arum dismisses the question in so particular a way that she is unsure which possibility is more likely]. It’s a useful trait, one that Rilla appreciates because it’s another layer of protection for those unique, beautiful eyes.

She can’t take more notes on his eyes in sleep, though. Instead, she ghosts her hands over his scales, over the subtle patterned expanse of his back as he snores gently into Damien’s hair.

The long, elegant curve of his spine is crested with a subtle ridge of raised scales, like spines or horns, nearly an inch long at the base of his skull and down between his shoulders, and barely higher than the bumps of the rest of his scales lower down [the first time Rilla runs her fingertips along the ridge Arum snaps his teeth in the air, hissing through them in surprise and delight, and Rilla smiles, then repeats the gesture]. Aside from some mild sensitivity, they seem primarily cosmetic, and Rilla can’t place what specific creature the trait is stolen from.

The entire expanse of his scales gleams magnificently, even in the low light of the nighttime Keep. He’s mottled in vibrant dark green and in black, with speckles of gold dotting down his front. The scales themselves are small and near as thick as light armor on his back, on the outsides of his arms, along the top of his tail, and in bigger, softer, smoother plates down his neck, his stomach, underneath his arms, between his legs. He is textured, cool, everywhere she can lay her hands [she has made a point to lay her hands nearly everywhere, by now].

The second pair of arms is completely unnatural relative to any nonmagical reptilian, and they should be completely incongruous with the rest of his frame, but his body fits together with infuriating ease. Arum’s torso is slightly longer than it would otherwise be to make room for the second set of pectorals that the extra arms necessitate [when he stretches in the morning his musculature ripples beneath his scales like the billow of steam, and Rilla could easily spend the rest of her life cataloging every configuration of angles at which his arms could be arranged atop the pillows of their shared bed], and his musculature there is lean but shockingly strong.

The pads of his fingers are textured with hair-thin ridges that help him stick to walls and ceilings when he scurries along at his shocking speed, similar to those of a gecko [Her list of creatures that Arum has traits in common with is absurdly long, and longer when she includes her speculations on his internal anatomy], and the same is true of his toes. His claws on all four limbs are dangerously sharp [more recently, he files down the claws on his lower pair of hands enough to dull them, complaining bitterly about the fragility of humans in general, but the first time he can reach out for the two of them, touch them without fear of causing harm, his expression falls to something raw and earnest and tender] [the claws on his upper hands remain sharp, and there is a certain thrill that comes with their careful touch as well].

His legs are powerful, long, a zig-zag of artful curves. He walks on his toes when he’s upright, his heels in the air and adding to his already impressive height, but he can turn his ankles oddly when he drops to all six limbs, slithering viper-quick whether he is crossing the floor or climbing a tree or wall or ceiling.

Arum’s tail is primarily meant for balance, and it’s not quite so deft as to be entirely prehensile, but he has enough control that he can grip a small object with it or curl it around something solid to stabilize himself [he is equally likely to curl it around either of his humans to pull them closer unexpectedly, to add an extra layer to an embrace].

[Rilla has an entirely separate mental space for notes on Arum’s sexual anatomy; that research is currently ongoing]

Arum’s teeth are [she mentally places a line between her more clinical observations and those that belong in the previous category] gorgeous, knife-sharp, terrifying, with long vicious incisors and jagged molars. Insectivore teeth, meant for piercing and crushing exoskeletons, and they flash bright behind his thin lips when when he snarls or speaks or laughs.

There is a crescent of little divots above those lips, the labial pits he uses to sense heat; a snake trait among the more dominant lizard features. In the scatter of her notes she has them sorted into the category of particularly anomalous with his extra arms and his frill.

His frill: infuriatingly out of place [speaking only for the purposes of classification: in the social sense, Rilla is only ever grateful for the fragile, expressive webbing that flares around Arum’s head in surprise and embarrassment and indignation, because it’s one of the easiest ways to tell what he’s feeling, besides his tone of voice]. It bears only passing similarity to the same feature on nonmagical frilled lizards; it drapes along the sides of his head when at rest instead of folding at his neck, it’s smaller relative to the size of his head, and the folds revealed when it flares are colored in bright patches of bluish-green and gold-

“Amaryllis.”

For half a moment she thinks that he’s murmuring in his sleep, which would be an interesting first, but then one of his eyes slits open and fixes her with a violet glare.

“I could feel you staring even in the depths of sleep, Amaryllis,” he mutters, voice thick and growling. “What, precisely, is causing you to think so furiously at this time of night?”

His irises are wide black diamonds in the mellow dark, his long tongue flicks absently to scent the air, his chest rumbles with each breath he takes, and every piecemeal part of him fits together in an impossible harmony, every edge that by rights should be jagged instead slides smooth. Rilla knows she’ll never unravel the entire tapestry of Arum, and that knowledge fills her with the thrill of challenge, with breathless awe, with overflowing love.

“You,” she says after a pause, hoping the enormity of her feelings doesn’t bleed too much into her voice. When he goes startle-still, she leans down to press a kiss to his cheek, where she knows he can feel the tickle of her warm-blooded heat. She doesn’t pull away then, sighing against the texture of his scales and pressing her hand to feel the slow drum of his heart in his chest. “Just thinking how damn stunning you looked all wrapped up with Damien.”

Rilla isn’t Damien, and she can’t make the tangle of science and wonder and connection in her mind sing as prose, or verse. Her coded pages read exactly like her field notes: pointed, unadorned, though admittedly a bit more biased. Arum knows her, though. He knows the deeper context around her flippancy, the way she uses informality as a source of comfort.

He breathes a laugh and it tickles Rilla’s ear, and he nuzzles his face against her own. “I would love to pay your flattery back in kind, Amaryllis, but if we wake the little knight now he’ll be utterly useless in the morning,” he grumbles, letting his eyes slip closed again as he pulls her closer.

“Sweet of you to worry about tiring him out,” she replies in a teasing whisper. He growls at the implication that his worry is unselfish, and Rilla’s mind flies off again. The entirety of Arum’s vocal system is a wild mystery, how he can duplicate human language with such an incompatible tongue and lips, and that isn’t even getting into the mystery of how he makes those rattling noises, those growls, those purrs. As far as Rilla is aware, purring is not a typical trait in a lizard, so she can’t even begin to speculate what animal instrument is hiding in the hollow of his throat.

“You are thinking again,” he hisses through a sigh, smiling with his eyes closed and letting his claws drift gently up and down her bicep. “I can hear your mind churning when you go still like that.”

“Sorry,” she says wryly, pressing another kiss to his neck.

“No apologies, my Amaryllis, but you need your rest as well as he does.”

Arum tends to save his pet names for Damien (Rilla suspects this is because they have a much more profound effect on the knight than they would on herself), but it does send a giddy little thrill through her when he slips enough to call her his. “I know, I know,” she says. “I’ll get to hibernating or whatever.”

He chuckles low again, his fingers tracing soft soothing circles on her arm, on her back, his breath lifting his chest beneath her palm, and the combined rhythms are nearly hypnotic. “Would it-” he pauses, and she can feel the hesitation drift through him and then dissolve like parchment in water. It’s easier for him to let himself be soft like this, in warmth, tangled up together in the dark. He hums above her and asks, “Would it help if I sang for you?”

Rilla will never stop being fascinated by Arum, and she’ll never stop being surprised by him either.

She nods against his shoulder, because she thinks her voice will either crack with laughter or too much feeling if she tries to talk, and Arum presses his mouth in an almost-kiss against her hair before he starts to sing. He sings close and quiet against her skin, his voice rough and low and inhuman, and Rilla smiles against his scales as it works in concert with the movement of his hands. It's soothing, stable, perfect.

There is comfort in a curiosity that cannot be answered, Rilla thinks as she drifts. Stability in a mystery that can unfold and unfold and never reveal a conclusion. Rilla has always preferred answers to questions, but Arum-

Arum is a question she intends to ponder for the rest of her life.

#elle's fanfic #the penumbra podcast #second citadel #rad bouquet #amaryllis of exile #lord arum #sir damien #lizard kissin' tuesday

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letstalksymphogear · 5 years

Text

Symphogear, EP.7 (Cont.)

“i have not now, nor ever, liked this creepy ass church elevator.”

“kanade please get out of my head, just because im hungry doesnt mean you have to tell me every time i am”

Hibiki finishes getting a full body X-ray. She’s fine.

“that anime protagonist immunity is really kicking in well!”

“by the way, your wife is here! and she’s looking mighty miffed., as opposed to me, mighty milfed.”

“you dont strike me as a mother figure but ill play along for now”

“i just hope miku’s okay...”

“oh, she’ll be fine! see, i’ve seen these kinds of plots before. big secret revealed, another lover is shown, the victim watches as they’re thoroughly cheated on, and they get to lik-”

“please stop breathing”

Genjuro’s wasting away again in Margaritaville. Looking for some daughter to adopt. SOME PEOPLE SAY THAT THERE’S A, WOOOOMAAAAAN TO BLAAAAAAAAAAME, BUT HE KNOWS

XYLOPHONE RIFF

THAT’S IT’S ALL HIS FAULT

XYLOPHONE RIFF

“i hate it when he gets like this. jimmy buffets not a good look for him.”

“for once you and i agree. seeing the commander sulk like this like a middle aged perma-tourist is genuinely miserable”

“hey homies! im back and i brought some bitches! oh, jesus, why does this place smell like mistakes in miami?”

“its me. im sorry. every time i feel like i failed as a dad, my anti-dad energies manifest. imagine every midlife crisis rolled up into a single ball, smacked into the face for eternity. thats the depth of my pain for failing this girl.”

In a moment of positivity, the friendship between Tsubasa and Hibiki is cemented.

> Tsubasa has joined the party.

“FRIENDSHIP!”

“fweindship.”

“uuuuhhhhh... dadship? yeah thats close enough.”

“WE’RE ALL GOOD FRIENDS!”

“ya tiddies are ringing again, better go get it”

Ryoko also points out that Hibiki’s relic is fusing with herself at an alarming rate. This is important to keep in mind.

Meanwhile, at night.

Miku is posing in the motherly “you done fucked up, where have you been young lady” position. A cold scolding is coming.

“.........................hey miku......”

“you can come in. are you worried im gonna bite? you suplexed a car. that shouldn’t be an issue anymore.”

“miku, i.... i wanted to tell you.... but.... the plot wouldn’t let me, miku....”

“should’ve told the plot to fuck off anyway. now you’re gonna live with that. you’re sleeping... on the bottom bunk.”

“b.... b..... b...... b.... b...... bottom bunk...?”

They slept separately that night. God, this is so stupid. All of this is so goddamned stupid. “I’m so mad at you even though you saved my life.” This is just so. AUGH. THIS IS DUMB. KANEKO WRITE BETTER ANGST THAT MAKES SENSE THAT ISN’T THIS.

Meanwhile, far away from this garbage...

Chris, having been evicted from Fine’s McMansion, wanders the streets of mumblemumble aimlessly. Don’t be fooled by her new fancy dress. Basically, she’s a combat-competent hobo.

“no food. no home. no victories. this sucks. whyd you do it, fine? we coulda been great together. but no. ya fired me. now i look like im prancing the red light district with a highly advanced superweapon around my neck.”

“no... hibiki’s to blame. ever since that genderbent little mac showed up to fight me, it’s been all downhill. fine thought me a laughstock because i couldnt take out her oversized boxing gloves, and now she beat me while i had nehushtan. god... i wish i never met that damn hamster faced chubby cheeked nerd.”

“wait, whats that crying”

Chris spies two kids talking to each other, one of them crying. Chris immediately makes an assumption, believing the big bro is bullying his sis.

“hey! stop nicking her lunch money, twerp”

Chris currently is a firm believer of corporeal punishment.

But the sister deflects the blow. Chris can’t even defeat children right now. Truly, this is a record low for her. You know you blew it when even kids are schooling you on basic morality. She then tells the little girl to stop crying, ironically mirroring her brother.

The infamous double T-Pose maneuver. Chris, you might as well get a shovel and start digging your own grave.

“i keep doing bad things badly, and now im doing good things badly... when fine said i was bad... did she just mean im not talented?”

Chris, finally, does a good thing and helps these kids find their parents.

“yeah. hibiki saved a kid when she got her gear. guess what? bam! im saving two! that’s fifty percent more kid per kid saved. take that, weirdo.”

The kids call her out on Chris singing unconsciously, and Chris gets flustered over it. Dawwwwww.

Chris manages to get them to safety to their Dad...

...while brutally lying about it, making Chris look like a predator. There’s a very crushing irony at play here, given who Chris used to serve.

“ugggggggggggggggghhhhhh hes not even gonna payyyyy meeeeeee why the fuck did i dooooo thiiiiiiissssss”

“hey, you know. you kids have a really nice relationship with one another. care to give me tips on how to be an empathetic human being capable of making friends?”

“maybe we’re born with it”

“maybe its maybeline”

“maybeline...”

Meanwhile...

A cold wind blows through Lydian Apartment 69-L. (I don’t actually know if that’s their room number, I just made it up.)

“jesus take the wheel, because i’m jumping out the passenger seat to save this current wreck of a relationship”

“miku please i saved your life, doesnt that count for anything”

“you already killed me the moment you lied. also im taking the bottom bunk so i dont have to see your face coming down the ladder.”

“miku you cant hide in this depression den forever. i know i hurt you and im sorry for it, but please understand i literally couldnt do it. you saw there were punches and violence and stuff... i didnt want you tied to that...”

“what was that? i cant hear your apologies over my incredibly loud snoring. SNOOOOOOORE. SNOOOOOOOORE. SNOOO- fuck, i just swallowed my spit, fuck”

“i hope this cocoon of displeasure you’ve made for yourself lets you erupt into a butterfly of acceptance so i can fly with you again.”

“......thats not fair. you cant say those beautiful metaphors and get away with it. let me be mad... sniff... let me be mad...”

Sadness wafts in the den of lies Hibiki has been forced into.

No music plays. There is only heartbreak, and woe.

In the midst of this pain...

Ryoko loredumps about how the Symphogears work and are immune to the noise on her blog, ‘hornyonmainforscience.org’, her hybrid science journal slash kink zone. It’s mostly a recap with some pretty good soft techno beats in it.

“i made a custom brew of red bull, five hour energy drink, coffee, and cream. i call it gamer girl piss.”

“damn. that’s some good piss.”

She muses about how Hibiki has managed to break the limitations of her Symphogear, making her a totally unique specimen. Wait, where have we heard this before...?

Hey... Ryoko... let’s just... cool it a bit with the Hibiki pictures... come on...

Ryoko touches upon the Custodians and the Curse of Babel. We ain’t touching that shit until later, because that’s another shitfuck box of crazy just ready to jump us in a dark alleyway to rob us of our wits.

Back to Lydian:

“miku whats the answer to the first three multiple choice questions”

“B. A. D.”

“oh, thanks. huh, BAD.”

“yeah. you are.”

“mmm. taste likes dissapointment. just like my life.”

“hey table for two haha get it cause there’s two chairs and miku for the love of god, please, forgive me”

“ive surgically removed my eyes and drew eyelashes over them with sharpie so i dont have to see your bird bangs.”

“thats very rude to both me and my hair. also, wig.”

Even Hibiki’s meal is judging her. Mainly for not eating it. Fucking look at this. God, that looks amazing. Fuck, why did I write this while I was hungry.

“miku you cant do this forever. i might die and youll end up crying on my tombstone going ‘oh god, why, oh god’, and really, i cant live with myself if that happens. mainly because id already be dead by then”

The Anime Janai crew show up to break some icebergs with a goddamn sledgehammer. As the self-aware Gods of this realm, they got very tired of this poor display of angst, and have decided to directly intervene.

Nevermind. They came for her kneecaps, and they most certainly got them.

PLEASE. I’M BEGGING YOU. END THIS GARBAGE PLOT THREAD.

“look. imma lay down the facts. yall are gay. yall are in love. yall are angry for the wrong reasons. its nobody’s fault here but the writer. so please kiss and make up. pretty please.”

“kaneko... you fool... we all know what the original sin is. its your hack writing making this stupidity in the first place. let the pencil go, asshole!”

They bring up the fact that Hibiki isn’t doing her work and wonder if she has a job on the side, which isn’t allowed by the school. Miku gets annoyed and bails, with Hibiki running after her. Unfortunately, Miku runs faster...

“oh god miku not the rooftop whatever you’re thinking just dont do it! please!”

“no. i came here to angst, since this is the Maximum Angst Zone.”

“i..... okay! okay, that’s fair! rooftops are the perfect place to look sad while getting proper air ventilation, thats fine”

It really would have been better played if it was played off that she felt hurt not because of the lie, but because she felt like she could have helped her better having known the truth, and it being a self-loathing sort of scenario for not being there better for her and not fully understanding the risk at play.

But no, instead, we get this.

youtube

Absolutely obliterated. A heart ripped, shredded, and sent to the Shadow Realm.

The episode ends on that note, but has a post credit scene.

Naked. On an old timey telephone. On a computer. Wearing stockings and long gloves.

The main antagonist of the series, everybody.

She’s talking the best English possible to some random-ass American when suddenly bursting through the scene is none other than:

“I WANT WORKERS COMPENSATION YOU BITCH, BEFORE I UNIONIZE YOUR NAKED ASS”

“AND I WANT A GOOD REFERNECE FOR MY FUTURE EMPLOYER, AND ALSO A SEVERANCE PACKAGE SINCE I’M FUCKING HOMELESS”

“i paint my eyelashes with mascara made from the tar of freshly carbonated corpses manufactured through noise, what on gods green earth compels you to think id give a rats ass about you?”

“so you never cared, huh! you’re just a nasty naked hedonist trying to- trying to- what the fuck are you even trying to do?!”

“i want to live the dream every spicy little fossil like me yearns for.”

“I WANNA FUCK GOD!”

“how- what? what? how do you even- what? are you- do you want to be the pope? is that it? does the pope get to fuck god? are you- is this a larping thing? you’ve really been into larping lately! i don’t like this!”

“youve never read the old testament, have you. ass out, pussy bare, hips up and barefoot. that’s how god’s always liked it.”

“now get lost, punk. you tipped off my hand to genjuro and now you being here is going to ruin everything. if you still feel any semblance of devotion, eat one of your own bullets and call it a day.”

“it’s 2012 bitch, if the mayans dont get you, I WILL”

“what god gives, He takes away, and so do i. i built you from the ground up. your relic, which was good for jack shit on you. the nehushtan, which you failed to do anything with except zap a couple hundred people. stop wars? you’re a walking war, waged by me, for me. and your cartridge has just run out of bullets.”

“uh oh! hand’s acting up again! better bail before i send you back to smacktown where all the bitter little shittalkers like you strut around spending their lives being useless as hell.”

“ah fuck, im not dealing with no manos: the hands of fate bullshit again”

“and guess what else i got on motherfucker”

“i see the union efforts have officially been busted. understandable, have a nice day ma’am”

“LEAVE.”

“I’M GOING, I’M GOING”

#symphogear #symphogear season 1 #anime #recap #comedy

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broken-clover · 6 years

Text

12 Days of Whump- Delirium

Here we are! And close to Chrimbus, too. Merry Christmas, here’s some more pain. I kid, I kid. I still hope you like this one! Thanks for tuning in, I had a lot of fun with this project!

Day 12 of the 12 days of Whump- Delirium, with Amang!

Sapphire eyes watched intently, keeping close attention on the dozen and a half boys working in front of him. His gaze was just as much worried care as it was calm observance. While the children nailed planks, looped ropes, and drilled holes, he made sure everyone was remaining safe, with no loose extremities getting snagged or nicked or banged up.

“Well done, boys, very well done!” Amane smiled warmly, offering a little clap. “I couldn’t be more proud. We’ll be as good as new in no time! Haruka, watch your sleeve, I don’t want you getting snagged on the tarp.”

“Ok, papa!”

“Sora, try to keep your arm straight when you hammer, it’ll make it easier to aim.”

“Got it, Ama-san!”

The dancer caught a blue-haired old boy as he was walking past with a box of tools. “Madoka?”

“Yes, sir?”

“I’m going to step out for a little while, can I trust you to be in charge?”

His dour expression lit up immediately. “Absolutely, sir!”

“Wonderful. Be good while I’m gone.”

As soon as Amane turned and began walking away, he heard Madoka make a panicked squawk. “Yuji, put the saw down right now!!”

He laughed at that, knowing full well that Madoka was overreacting as he tended to. Amane didn’t even break his gait as he walked away from the half-repaired caravan and towards the nearest building. Ronin-gai really was a pretty little place. He really would have liked to visit more often, when they weren’t using it as a place of refuge while the caravan was being fixed. The locals were always good at making them feel welcome. He attributed it at least in part to the open-hearted nature of their leader, even if that was a little biased.

The house he entered was simple, modest. There was very little obstructing Amane between the front stoop and the bedroom. The feeling of tatami under his feet was familiar as he kicked his geta off by the entrance. It had become an odd kind of comfort, a sensation associated with a familiar place and a familiar face.

The bedroom’s curtains were pulled back, letting in the sight of the afternoon sun and falling leaves. Amane hardly paid the sight a look as he knelt down by the bed and reached for a wet cloth.

“This one’s gotten warm, hmm?”

He dropped it in the bowl by his side, fishing around and pulling out another one that was less warm to the touch. After wringing it out to keep the material from dripping, Amane replaced the one he’d taken. Almost immediately after, he had to move to put it back in place, due to the displeased squirming underneath.

Amane frowned. “Bang, please hold still.”

He got no reply, of course, because the man was still half-conscious as best. It didn’t stop Amane from talking to him either way. “I’m going to replace the bandage now, so just try and stay calm. I promise it’ll only hurt for a minute or two.”

He tugged down the blanket that he’d tossed over Bang after the last time. The arm nearest him was wrapped in a stained bandage, which he eyed with concern and faint disgust. Despite his hesitance, he unpinned the end and began unraveling the material.

The task gradually grew more difficult as more came off. Even without being awake, Bang started wriggling and squirming, which only made the whole ordeal take longer. Amane tried not to flinch as the layers grew more soaked underneath, with rust-colored flakes of dried blood flaking off onto the tatami.

“Oh, Bang…”

With a bit of morbid curiosity, the dancer leaned in a little, slender fingers lightly fanning over the too-warm, reddened skin. He didn’t dare drift too close to the large chunk of flesh that was missing, more than slightly due to the unpleasant-smelling muck that stained the wound.

Amane discarded the old bandage immediately, using his Drive to summon some extra fabric. He continued to glance at the injury between measurements, trying to determine how long to make the new strand.

“Don’t I always tell you to not be so reckless? I’m just trying to look out for you.” The man sighed, slicing off the end of the new material with one of his hairpins. “...Then again, you did save my boys. I think Koichi would have lost his whole arm if you hadn’t jumped in the way.”

One end of the strand was carefully placed by the wound’s edge, and he began wrapping it back up. “I’m not sure why bandits keep trying to attack us. Perhaps now they’ll learn not to try. Even if they do bring wolfhounds with them…”

He laughed a little at his own poor joke, but it petered out in the otherwise quiet room. Amane leaned over to stroke a warm cheek, burying fingers in the shaggy sideburns.

“Litchi will be here soon with the antibiotics. Just hold out a little longer for me, okay? You’re strong, I know you can do this. Please.”

As he finished wrapping up the infected wound, he felt muscles tensing under his touch. He tried to be gentler, thinking that the roughness was making the injured man recoil in pain, he pulled back in shock when Bang started sitting up, rubbing at his eyes with his good arm.

A moment later, he caught sight of Amane.

“T-Tenjo-sama?”

Amane tried to push him back down, gently but firmly. “It’s alright. Just lie still.”

The ninja complied, but he continued to stare with wide, feverish eyes. After a moment, he began tearing up.

“Oh, no, no…” Amane’s face fell. “Shh-shh-shh, it’s alright. You’re alright.”

“Ten-Tenjo-sama…”

He tried to think of something to say. How bad had the fever gotten? “She’s busy right now. She’ll be back as soon as she can. I’ll look after you until then, alright? I promise I’ll take good care of you.”

In spite of his efforts, Bang sat back up. And to Amane’s eternal confusion, despite his teary eyes, he began to smile.

“Tenjo-sama! Tenjo-sama! You came back!”

“I- what?” Even with all the oddness he had seen, Amane was utterly lost. He’d heard Bang mention his beloved master before, but he didn’t have much to piece together aside from her cruel death and the fact that Bang had a great fondness and respect for her. He assumed, though the infection and fever, the man had gotten a little delirious and begun hallucinating.

He was proven wrong rather quickly, as a pair of arms wrapped around his lithe body is a bone-crushing hug. “I missed you so much! You’re finally back!”

Amane glanced around, not entirely sure how to react. He managed to push Bang off and briefly looked over his arm, just to make sure the bleeding hadn’t worsened.

The ninja tilted his head, a smile still on his face. “Aren’t you happy to see me, Tenjo-sama?”

“Ah...y-yes, that’s right. Were you good while I was out?” Amane spat out without really thinking.

He nodded fiercely. “Uh-huh! I did all my lessons! And I’m getting better at climbing walls! I managed to scale the west edge without falling once!” His grin somehow grew even wider. “So you know what that means!”

The dancer put on a nervous smile. “O-of course I do, Bang!”

“Pat my head! I did good, so that means I get a head-pat!”

In spite of the confusion and awkwardness of it, Amane had to stifle a laugh of his own as he ruffled Bang’s hair. He seemed positively elated by it, practically bouncing in place.

“Haha! I missed you so much, Tenjo-sama! I’ve got a bunch of stuff to tell you!”

Amane figured, if he kept the man talking, he wouldn’t do anything reckless. And if he was very lucky, it would tire him out enough to make him go back to sleep.

“Oh? Why don’t you tell me everything, Bang?”

“Ok! Ok!” He clapped his hands together. “I met a really cool new friend! His name’s Amane-kun! And he’s got pretty purple hair just like yours!”

He was starting to put the pieces together. It seemed that in his delirious mind, he looked just enough like Tenjo to have them confused. It took him far too long to recognize the rest of what had been said.

“You think I- that he’s ‘cool?’”

“Uh-huh! Amane-kun is super super cool! He’s got a fancy scarf too! Not as cool as my hero scarf, but he can do magic with his, and I can’t do that!”

Amane was torn between blushing and laughter, so he did a bit of both. “Aww. He sounds interesting. Is he nice?”

“Mmm…” Bang paused. “A little scary. But he’s really nice when you get to know him! We sparred under the big tree the other day!”

He could vaguely recall that fight from a few months back. He also distinctly remembered the part where they both crashed into each other, with him landing on top of Bang in a very...awkward position.

“Well, I’m very glad you’re making new friends, Bang.”

“I really like Amane-kun! He’s awesome! He can fight and is really pretty and he dances with a bunch of people, an- and he promised to show me sometime!”

That Amane recalled much more thoroughly. In fact, it had been the reason they’d been heading that direction in the first place. He had finally wanted to put on a show at Ronin-gai.

If he didn’t know better, he would have said that Bang was blushing. But with the fever, it was difficult to tell. “Are you alright?”

“Can I marry Amane-kun?”

“Wh- I-” The dancer was at a loss for words, with a blush of his own overtaking his face.

Bang hardly seemed to notice, turning away and picking at one of the tatami panels by his bed. With a few attempts, he managed to pull it back, and retrieved something from a crevice underneath.

He gave Amane a conspiratorial look as he turned back around, keeping something concealed in his big hands. “Can I show you something super-super secret?”

“I...of course you can, Bang. You can always trust me.”

With shaking hands, the ninja revealed a little blue box. He flipped the top open, revealing a beautiful silvery ring, set with a glimmering sapphire stone.

“I wanna marry Amane-kun! Then we can be heroes and dance together and stuff!”

Amane felt like he was experiencing something he wasn’t meant to. He suddenly felt much more aware of the fact that he was more-or-less impersonating someone who had been dead for at least a decade and being privy to his own surprise proposal. Then again, he wasn’t sure just how much of it had to be real, and what had to be fever-induced babbling. The ring was clear as day, though. Was it really for him? Could it be?

Just as quickly, Bang closed the box and stashed it back away. “Shhhh! You can’t tell him! It’s super-secret!”

Still, Amane nodded. “Of course. I won’t tell a soul.”

“Haha! Thanks, Tenjo-sama!”

Before the dancer would think of something else to say, he watched Bang stretch, letting out a noisy yawn. He flinched, grabbing at the bandaged portion of his arm.

“Bang, are you alright?”

“I think I hurt myself today.” He replied, tone swiftly saddening. “I think I hurt myself real bad, Tenjo-sama. Am I gonna die?”

With a little smile of his own, Amane reached out to pat his head again. “No, Bang. Just as long as you get plenty of sleep. Can you do that for me?”

He nodded affirmatively, though it was sluggish. “Can I sleep in your lap again?”

Amane tried not to go red again. “You’ve gotten awfully big. I don’t think you’ll fit.” He noticed the man slump immediately. “Ah- um, but you can rest your head on me, if you’d like! But you’ve got to go to sleep right away.”

That seemed to be enough of a compromise. “Ok!

He moved to help guide the man down, to make sure he didn’t slip or hit his head on anything. While initially a bit hesitant about the concept, Amane found the feeling remarkably pleasant. Bang found a comfortable spot leaning up against the other man’s leg, and quickly settled down.

“G’night…Tenjo-sama...”

Amane let his fingers get buried in dark brown hair once again, gently petting it until Bang fell asleep in his lap.

#yeet yeet #Blazblue #Bang Shishigami #Amane Nishiki #Amang #12 Days of Whump #tw infection #tw hallucinations #writing

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rookisaknight · 6 years

Text

Deputy

Might as well introduce her before I ramble about my good ending aus and self-indulgent shit

This is a questionnaire whipped up by @dutchisland

The Basics

1. Give their full name, and describe them or post a picture! (Height, build, hair, eye, and skin color, etc.)

Molly Sofia Kriz. A lanky brunette, around 5′8″. Skin is covered with freckles, acne scars, and is usually sunburned. Big black eyes. Her father was Czech and her mother was Latinx. Her hair was fairly long before the helicopter crash, after which she chopped it off to just under her chin to get rid of the burnt edges. She rarely has time for a haircut and usually just chops it off with whatever’s readily available. On the rare occasions that she has down time Kim will usually menace her into sitting still long enough to give it a proper trim. Big forehead. Small hands

2. How old are they?

3. Sexuality and gender?

Pansexual, she/her.

Pre-Game

1. How did they end up at the Hope County Sheriff’s Department? How long have they worked there?

She’s not a Hope County native but he knew when she graduated from Police Academy that she had no interest in being a big city cop, and angled for a small town assignment. She lucked out with Hope County. Or at least, so she thought. If we was hoping for things to be less complicated out here....In any case, she’d been working there for just under a year before the raid on Eden’s Gate

2. Relationship with Pratt, Hudson, and Whitehorse?

Pratt: Staci was delighted to no longer be the lowest rung on the totem pole and enjoyed giving her as much hell as Hudson gave him when he was the Rook. Based on what little we see of him before Jacob gets a hold of him I’ve always imagined Pratt as just a bit of a prankster. To this day Molly doesn’t drink coffee or sit in a chair at the station without thoroughly examingin both for traps. Still, they have a certain rapport and had each other’s backs. Some possible romantic tension that might have gone somewhere, in a better world.

Hudson: they weren’t exactly having sleepovers and braiding each other’s hair, but they wre close enough to grab coffee a few times when they weren’t at work. Hudson isn’t known for being friendly but she was a little relieved to have another woman in the department. Joey took a few hits for Molly when she thought Pratt or the Sheriff were making life too hard for her, and in return Molly did her best to learn the lessons Joey taught her. A bit of an older sister relationship.

Whitehorse: He’s not a man to get chummy with his deputies but their relationship was amicable enough. Whitehorse has been in the game for a long time, and once she became aware of how bad things really were in Hope County she was a little in awe of him. He has a lot more respect for her than she thinks, but he rarely expresses it. Whitehorse thought she had potential, just no real call to action yet.

3. Do they have an education?

An unremarkable academic career in high school, a couple of years at a community college, and Police Academy. Not much of a scholar, although she does like to read. Or did. At this point she doubts she could relax enough to sit down with a novel.

4. Where are they from? Did they speak a different language there?

Eastern Washington. No, but she did pick up some Spanish from her mom.

5. Is there anyone outside the valley that might have come looking for them?

If she had kept her parents in the loop they might have come looking, but she’d never wanted them to worry.

6. Did they have a religious background of any kind?

Her parents wee Catholic enough to drag her to Mass every Sunday in childhood but not enough to kick up that much of a fuss when she slowly stopped going at 16. She knows enough to pass and would comfortably say that she believes in a God, but even before her time in Montana she was suspicious of organized religion.

Inside Hope County

1. What was going through their head when the helicopter went down and during the subsequent chase?

She was running on raw adrenaline the whole time and there wasn’t much room for coherent thought beyond “please don’t let me die” . The guilt came later

2. Were they afraid of Joseph and Eden’s Gate? Angry?

She was terrified by Eden’s Gate pre-game, but lately that’s shifted into just a reisgned anger. She can’t hate most of them, they’re simply too sad. Instead she’s just generally frustrated. And tired. So soooo tired.

3. Did they trust Dutch?

Not at first, but once the words “mostly it means we’re all fucked” left his mouth she kinda figured this was either a really elaborate roleplay or a guy she could trust. She bet on the latter.

4. How did they feel about their team being taken by the cult, did they count them as lost, did they want them back, did they not care?

Her team was the main reason she bothered to stick around instead of high-tailing out and hoping the National Guard could take care of it. Molly’s a good cop but she’s no hero. She didn’t have any high-minded ideas of resistance or revenge when she started out, she just wanted to find her team before it was too late. By the time she’d rescued all of them, though, she found she had other people to care for.

5. How did they take to the idea of being part of, if not leading, the resistance?

Pre-game she thought of the resistance as four or five gun-crazed survivalists who though dumping more bullets into the situation would somehow make it better. After she found herself on the outside of police protection, though, she gained a newfound repect for what they do. She condiers herself a solo act (more for convenince than for ideology), but she has a lot of loyalty to many many members of the resistance, and yes Virgil, she’ll wear the stupid button.

6. Which companions did they recruit, and who did they travel with the most?

Jess and Sharky are her usual partners in crime for general mayhem. When she’s inhHolland Valley and knows she won’t be pulling him far from his family she’ll call in Nick for air support (usually getting dinner at the Rye hous after). She adopted Boomer and loves him to death but is far too anxious to take him into battle, so he stays at the abndoned farmhouse she’s been camping out in. When Sharky’s laid up she calls Hurk, but that doesn’t usually go well.

7. Did they have time to find romance amidst the chaos? How did they do it?

Romance is a strong word. She ends up with a truly hopeless crush on Nick Rye. Not that she’d ever act on it. She loves Kim to death and honestly thinks they make a great couple. But she’d be lying if she said there weren’t a couple late nights in the Rye household where she looked over at Nick and thought “what if?” Still, she keeps it to herself and is pretty sure he doesn’t have a clue.

8. Feelings about Joseph?

Mostly fear. After that, probably anger. But.she understands the draw. The man has undeniable charisma. In her encounters with him it has honestly been a struggle not to find herself swallowed by those hypnotic voice and that voice. Sometimes, when no one’s around and she’s taking a day in her house...she turns the radio to the Project’s station and just listens to his sermons. Wondering how someone so monstrous and so unhinged could make it sound so wise.

9. Feelings about the other Seeds?

John: Hates his guts, but honestly he makes a good arch-nemsis. She loves doing things just to stick it to him. Right up until he started taking it out on Hudson.

Faith: she’s felt odd moments of pity for her, but mostly she’s just unnerved by her. Something about that flower child appearance mixed with the cold-blooded calculation that makes her feel very off-balance.

Jacob: despite all he did to Pratt, she has a hard time hating him. Jacob is what he is. She can understand every step that was taken to make him end up like this and on weird level she respects him. Part of this is teh process of conditioning, which requred them to spend a long time in close quarters while he tried to get in her head and turn it inside out. She doesn’t pity him, but she feels sympathy. Which doesn’’t mean she would hesitate to put a bullet through his brain. The best they could do for each other is the decency of a quick death. As befitted a fellow soldier.

10. How did they handle having to kill animals and other humans? Had they done it before?

Animals were fine, she used to hunt with her mom. People....well, eventually you get used to it.

11. Which canon ending did they choose in-game, and would you have changed the ending at all?

Resist. Absolutely not

Personal

1. Favorite weapon(s)?

She’s a simple gal with a sawed off shotgun and pistol. That’s all you need.

2. Stealth or firepower?

She’ll usually send in Sharky as the literal firepower while she and Jess pick off cultists drawn to his display.

3. How did they spend their time, when not fighting peggies?

She spends a lot of time at the Spread Eagle or hanging out with Jess and Sharky in her house, blasting music and playing cards. She loves when she has time for dinner with the Ryes, and sometimes she’ll go fishing with Jerome.

4. Where did they live during the events of the game?

A small, abandoned farmhouse nestled in a copse of woods between Holland Valley and the Whitetail Mountains.

5. Any other facts you want to share about your Deputy!

She swears up and down she saw Bigfoot in her front yard, but no one belives her.

#far cry 5 #far cry deputy #fc5 #deputies #oc: molly kriz #joseph seed #john seed #jacob seed #faith seed #nick rye #kim rye #sharky boshaw #jess black #staci pratt #joey hudson #earl whitehorse #long post

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emmaswanchoosesyou · 6 years

Text

all we need

All right, anons and Curious Archer peeps! Here’s that smutty first-time fic. It can be a standalone or a sequel to “slumber party”, and I hope you enjoy.

Rated E, about 3k words. Also on AO3.

It's been five months, and Robyn just wants Alice. She burns, she pines. But she's hardly alone in that, so there's a very obvious solution.

It’s been five months since their first kiss, since they decided they’re together. It’s blissful, and Robyn feels like she’s been in some sort of happily-ever-after since then. It’s almost perfect, a word she doesn’t quite want to use for fear of tempting the fates.

But she’s frustrated. Not with Alice—Alice is as close to heaven as Robyn can imagine being.

The thing is, she’s a red-blooded American (well, kind of) girl. And the fact that she can only see Alice a couple of times a month, combined with them taking it slow—which had been her own idea, god—and her living with her mother and aunt...well, there has been precious little satisfaction of late.

Robyn has had girlfriends before, and she’s not inexperienced, at least when it comes to sex. But it’s different with Alice. It’s more, and she wants to savor and cherish every moment, every step they take together. It’s her first time with her heart on the line, and she knows she’s Alice’s first everything.

She wants it to be special.

She knows it’s almost nauseatingly corny, but it’s the truth. She wants there to be wine and chocolate and candlelight and music and rose petals, and she wants it to be a moment they’ll love forever.

Because they’re forever. Robyn’s not entirely sure when she realized it, but she knows she’s irrevocably, over-the-moon in love. They haven’t said it yet, but she’s fairly sure Alice feels the same way.

So she’ll wait until she can make it as perfect as the woman she loves, and it’s the farthest thing from a chore or source of frustration.

Her mother calls to her from down the hall, and she stands with a smile on her lips at her new resolve.

&&&

She hardly needs the excuse of delivering Noo—Hook’s letters to Alice to go for a visit anymore, but she likes being the one who does that for them. (And she’s trying very hard to call him Captain, Hook, or even Killian, as he’s instructed her countless times by now.) So when he hands her an envelope and a package for Alice, Robyn volunteers to go deliver it with haste.

“There’s no rush, lass,” he says, one side of his mouth quirked up in a smirk. The smirk that also graces her beloved’s face when she’s teasing her.

Robyn’s cheeks flood with color, but she shrugs as nonchalantly as she can manage. “It’s no big deal, I don’t have anything on the docket today. It’d be good to go out, get some exercise…”

His eyes twinkle. “Mmmhmm, aye. Well, I wouldn’t want to hold you back from being outside and getting exercise.”

That snarky little...she sighed, muttered a quick thanks, and ran off as quickly as she could.

&&&

She makes good time—it only takes her an hour and half where it usually takes her close to two. It’s only been a week, but Robyn misses Alice as though it’s been a month.

As she approaches the cabin, she realizes that in her haste, she forgot all but the barest essentials, let alone any of the accoutrements for the romantic rendezvous she desperately wants to plan. Well, at least she has Hook’s package for Alice.

She knocks at the door quickly, shifting back and forth on her feet. Alice says she’s free to simply come in—and Robyn definitely knows how to pick a lock to do so, even if Alice gave her a key—but she can think of at least a few ways that could go wrong. She has visions of a startled Alice hitting her over the head with a frying pan, and no one wants that.

Alice answers the door, smiling as she pulls her through the entry and into a kiss. Robyn sighs against Alice’s lips as their fingers tangle in each other’s hair. This is home—here, in Alice’s arms.

A couple of minutes pass before Robyn pulls away, dragging one hand down Alice’s back as she cups her jaw for one last lingering kiss. “Hi.”

“Hello, yourself,” Alice says, looking dazed.

Robyn tries not to be affected by the way Alice’s chest is heaving, but she’s only human. Her eyes dart down, and she licks her lips. “Hi.”

“You already said that, Robyn.”

“Well, it’s important. I have to make sure you’re thoroughly greeted.” She knows she’s smiling like an absolute idiot as she leans her forehead against Alice’s, but she doesn’t care.

Alice lets out a peal of laughter, and her voice is full of fond amusement when she responds, “Really, because it looks like you’re also trying to greet my breasts.”

Her mouth twitches. “Um, they’re lovely and should absolutely be included in any greetings.” She drags her hand on Alice’s jaw down her neck, delighting in the shiver she gets in response to the light scrape her fingernails against Alice’s skin.

Alice’s gasp when she brushes her knuckles over the curve of her cleavage is music to her ears, and Robyn’s grasp on her self-control feels tenuous at this point.

God, she hasn’t even put down her bag yet. She reluctantly pulls away and puts a couple of feet of distance between them. (A necessity if she intends to get any rational thinking done at all.)

“I’d definitely rank that as a good, thorough hello. We should do that more often,” she says.

Alice nods. “Oh, absolutely. As frequently as possible.”

Robyn chuckles as she sets down her bag and rummages through it. “I promise I actually had more of a reason for coming than just groping you.”

“You don’t need one, you know.”

Robyn’s head snaps up, and she stares at Alice’s smirk—that stupid little smirk that she just wants to kiss off her face—and her mouth gapes for a moment before she shakes her head. “You’re killing me here.”

“Sorry.” She doesn’t sound even a little bit sorry.

She finally manages to dig out the package from Hook, and she hands it to Alice. “Here. From your dad. He misses you, but he’s doing well. It’s been a busy week around the castle, so I couldn’t make it before.”

The desire in Alice’s eyes slips away, fading to something softer and more vulnerable. “Is he eating all right? Sleeping well? Sometimes he gets so focused on doing things he doesn’t stop to take care of himself.”

Robyn stands and reaches for Alice’s hand, twining the fingers together. “Hey, he’s doing okay. We do our best to keep an eye on him, even if we’re not you.”

“I didn’t mean that you all weren’t looking after him properly, it’s just—” Alice’s voice crackles with distress, and Robyn hurries to reassure her.

“No, no, not at all! Having someone you love who cares about you looking after you—there’s no replacement for that. We’re going to try our best to find a cure, because you both deserve that.”

Alice sets down the package and pulls her into a hug. “Thank you. I—I love you.” There’s no fuss, no fanfare, no indecision in her words or tone, just calm assurance.

She chokes up, her throat tight with all that she feels. “You’re stealing my thunder here, Tower Girl.”

“I’m not familiar with that expression, which it must be, because I’ve never stolen any weather,” Alice says with a raised brow and that mild look of confusion that inevitably comes with interactions between residents of this world and the Land Without Magic.

Robin smiles and kisses her. “I had a plan. It was going to be super romantic. There were going to be flowers, chocolates, wine, and I was going to play a pretty song, and that was going to be how I told you I loved you. But you kind of beat me to it.”

Comprehension and joy dance across her face. “Oh. You love me?”

“I love you more than I can say.”

Alice kisses her back. “I don’t need poetry.” Her lips are moving across Robyn’s jawline, and it’s everything.

She feels Alice’s hand in her hair, untying the ribbon on her braid. She knows her hair is mussed from earlier, and normally she’s pretty vain about it, but she doesn’t care right now. “I know, but you make me want to be able to give that to you.”

“I don’t want words just now, Robyn.” She bites her lip and pulls their hips together.

Robyn’s mind is swimming, which is interesting, because she’s pretty sure she’s also burning. “Y-You’re sure?”

“Gods, yes. Take me to bed?”

Not needing further encouragement, Robyn crushes her girlfriend to her. She tries to pour everything she feels into their kiss: her love, the want she feels, the softness, the wonder, the sense of safety and adventure she finds only with Alice.

A strangled groan erupts from her throat when Alice reaches around and squeezes her ass through the soft leather of her breeches. This isn’t uncharted territory for them, but it’s bolder than it usually is, and—

Oh god, Robyn’s brain shorts when Alice wraps one leg around her hips and grinds against her. She’s trying to kill me, she thinks, her last thought before she succumbs fully to the passion they feel.

She hitches her arm under Alice’s leg to give her better leverage, to pull them closer. It’s not really possible—the only thing keeping them apart at this point is the layers of their clothing, and the thought sends a pang of want through her.

Alice surprises her—it’s not the first time and it undoubtedly won’t be the last—by pushing off the ground and wrapping both legs around her waist. Robyn adjusts quickly, holding her in her arms as Alice sucks a mark on her neck.

Robyn walks them back to the screened-off area where Alice’s bed is. She’s not really paying attention to walking, so it’s not exactly graceful—her knees bump up the bed, and it’s enough for Alice to fall back onto the edge of it with a soft thump.

The sound Alice makes when Robyn falls on top of her is somewhere between a squeal and a moan, and Robyn is done for.

She pushes herself up on her elbows and kisses a line down Alice’s throat, scraping her teeth over her clavicle. She delights in the little gasps and sounds, the way Alice is arching up against her.

Robyn reaches up to unlace Alice’s bodice. She’s marginally aware that Alice is working on the buttons of her tunic, but then she succeeds in removing the bodice and the only thing she can see is Alice.

She’s still wearing her chemise and her skirt, but the chemise is something light and sheer and wonderful that hides little. She loves it.

But Alice is impatiently tugging at her unbuttoned tunic, so Robyn pulls back and shrugs it off. She hurries to remove her breeches as well, stumbling over the annoying obstacle that is her boots.

When she’s finally down to her underwear and bra—this Enchanted Forest or Wish Realm is great, but its undergarments have nothing on Calvin Klein or Victoria’s Secret—she crawls back onto the bed.

Alice is now in just the chemise, having clearly used the time Robyn was distracted to remove her own skirt and other sundries. She’s beautiful, so radiant that Robyn can hardly breathe.

A little of their urgency is gone, but in its place is a sense of awe, of wonder.

Robyn and Alice lie next to each other, looking and touching and caressing until Robyn can stand it no longer. She pulls Alice close and kisses her, pouring her passion and love into it. It starts out gentle, but soon consumes them both. Robyn suddenly realizes that the urgency from earlier isn’t gone at all but was merely dormant.

It returns in full force as Robyn slips a knee between Alice’s legs. It catches on the material of the chemise, so Alice pulls it up to her waist. Everywhere their skin touches is aflame—Robyn herself is aflame, burning with desire and affection and a few other feelings she can’t quite name.

She buries her face in the hollow of Alice’s throat, nipping and kissing her way down. She reaches a hand to touch her breasts, cupping them lightly as she gently pushes Alice onto her back.

Finally, her face is level with Alice’s breasts, and god, they’re—she—is perfect. Her nipples are taut, and she’s clearly enjoying Robyn’s ministrations. Robyn can’t resist taking one into her mouth, laving her tongue over it through the thin material of the shift.

She’s never heard the sound Alice makes before, and Alice doesn’t seem to have either. “More. Again,” she pleads before hiking the chemise over her head and tossing it onto the floor.

Robyn obeys eagerly. She reaches down with one hand, beneath the elastic of her underwear to give herself some relief. She’s wet, so wet, but more than anything she wants Alice to be as full of want as she is, and she’ll do what it takes to make sure she is.

She pulls her hand out of her underwear and shucks them off, wiping her hand on them.

Alice stares at her from the bed, eyes hooded and dark. “Take off your corset. Or whatever you call it. Please.”

“Okay,” Robyn agrees. Her heart swells when she’s finally naked before Alice—they’re both naked together, bare and eager, and it’s everything she’s ever wanted. Alice crooks a finger at her, and she can’t move fast enough.

When their lips meet this time, it’s not gentle. It’s bruising and rough, and it’s hotter than any kiss Robyn has ever experienced. She’s fairly sure she’s going to combust.

She wastes no further time, running her hand down Alice’s body, through the wiry hair at the apex of her thighs. She gently traces her folds, pulling back from their kiss to ask, “Is this okay?”

“Please don’t stop.”

“Never,” Robyn murmurs against her ear.

For a few long moments, they’re both content with those light touches, but Alice finally reaches between them and places Robyn’s hand so that it’s against her clit. Robyn takes the hint, rubbing her in a rhythm that soon has Alice panting.

Alice clearly thinks she’s been slacking, because she mirrors Robyn’s motions, and soon the only sounds in the little cabin are their hands moving against each other and gasps of pleasure.

It’s almost laughable how quickly Robyn finds her release bucking against Alice’s hand. Then again, she’s been wound up for five months. Longer, if she counts all the time she pined for her before acting on it.

Alice isn’t there yet, so Robyn decides to switch things up. She pulls her head from the crook of Alice’s neck. Alice lets out a moan of objection until she sees that Robyn isn’t done.

Robyn kisses her way down between Alice’s breasts, down the gentle, slight slope of her stomach. She doesn’t stop moving her hand over Alice’s clit, but she smiles against her thigh when Alice’s breath hitches.

She presses a quick kiss to Alice’s mound before pulling her hand away to gently spread her legs a little wider. She lowers her mouth over her clit, giggling at the way Alice moans plaintively and rocks against her face at the first tentative lick.

She doesn’t hesitate or hold back after that, driving her girlfriend to bliss. The taste of Alice on her tongue is something she’ll never tire of, she thinks with satisfaction as Alice’s back bows off the bed and her legs shake.

Robyn continues licking and sucking at her clit through her orgasm until Alice finally slumps back into the pillows.

“Gods,” Alice breathes.

Robyn subtly wipes her chin on the inside of Alice’s thigh before kissing her there once more. She hauls herself up and pulls Alice into her arms, replete and satisfied and more in love than ever before.

Robyn brushes a kiss across her forehead. “Yeah, wow.”

“That was…”

“Incredible? Life-changing?”

“Yeah. And I hear it gets better the more you do it, so…”

Robyn laughs and nods. “So we’re going to die of pleasure, for sure.”

Alice giggles and kisses her shoulder. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Alice.”

&&&

They finally get out of bed a couple hours when Robyn’s stomach rumbles loudly with her hunger, and she’s shocked to realize she hasn’t had a meal in nearly twelve hours. Alice pulls on Robyn’s tunic, while Robyn borrows Alice’s robe, and they get up and head to the little kitchen area to prepare food.

They’re sitting down to eat their stew when Alice gasps.

Robyn raises a questioning eyebrow.

“I completely forgot about the package from my Papa!”

“I think he’d be—well, he probably doesn’t think about what we do together, but I don’t think he’ll mind that you waited a few hours,” she says.

Alice sets aside the letter and tears through the wrapping to reveal a framed canvas. “Oh! It’s...it’s gorgeous.”

Robyn isn’t speechless often, but she’s surprised by Hook’s talent—he’s captured the details of the courtyard at the castle and the look of fierce concentration she gets on her face when she’s fletching arrows. “I didn’t know he was doing this. It...it’s so great.”

“He says it’s so I can always see you, even when you’re gone,” Alice reads from the letter. It’s longer, and her eyes skim the rest before she folds it away and takes Robyn’s hand, pressing a lingering kiss to her wrist.

Robyn has a lump in her throat again. “I don’t want to be away from you.”

Alice smiles, a beautiful, bittersweet thing. “I don’t want that either, but we both have responsibilities.”

“Ugh, responsibilities.” She feels her shoulders slumping.

Then Alice is on her feet, moving quickly from her chair to slide into Robyn’s lap. “But right now we can be together, yeah? And eventually the forest and kingdom will be safe and my Papa will be cured. For now, we have this. And each other.”

“Is that enough?”

“More than enough,” Alice says.

Robyn smiles. “For now—it’s perfect.”

#curious archer #curious archer ff #curious archer fanfic #ca ff #ouat ff #mad archer #smut #review me #ouat s7 #amber writes #this was fun and i'm still in love with em dashes #like alice and robyn #em dashes and i are forever #but also?#thank you so much for all the love for slumber party

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