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sillyghostspace · 2 days

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"Emerald Chocolate" - Chief x Countess Chelsea

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Author's Note: Before Angell, Countess Chelsea always made me feral and still up to this day, I'm feral for her. I want to be her sugar baby. I want her to spoil me. I'm just so down bad for her :3

Summary: It is Valentine's Day and Countess Chelsea wants to celebrate it with her beloved Chief.

Genre: Fluff, slow romance

Word Count: 8k

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It was a normal day for the chief of the Minos Bureau of Crisis Control. Paper works were towering on the desk in front of them. They had to be careful or one slight mistake, bumping into that tower, for example, would result in a mess.

Again, it was a normal day. But not for long.

In a few hours time, this day would meet its end. And as the time kept ticking, the next day would arrive. And what would that mean?

Valentine’s Day.

14th of February. A day filled with hearts and chocolates, flowers and dates. It was the day when couples leveled up their relationship under the night sky and a comfortable, warm blanket. It also had a magic to create a chemistry between two people that weren’t in a relationship, combining them into a one which would give a birth to something called a new couple. With that, it was enough to say that the anticipation for this particular day was a bit more than the expectation.

At least Valentine’s Day had been that way before the world became ruins lost in the passage of time. If the world weren’t such a mess, Valentine’s Day would be greeted by more people with more welcoming arms. Alas, with the situation of the current world, 14th of February turned into another normal, boring day for everyone to get through. That was what Chief had believed, but something changed his mind in an instant.

The reason? It was because of the presence of a certain someone. Her name was Countess Chelsea.

“Chief, may I come in?” There was a voice coming from outside the door.

“Go ahead,” Chief said.

The sliding door opened to the sides, revealing a woman who was wearing an office suit, or at least what would be called as an office suit nowadays.

“I have something to report, Chief,” Nightingale said. Her green-ish, blue-ish hair was hanging on one of her shoulders. She didn’t wear the usual hat, showing more hair compared to the other days Chief had seen her.

Chief sighed. “Let me guess. It has something to do with Chelsea.”

Nightingale also sighed. Her lips moved. “Yes, Chief. It is not something urgent, but I still believe I should at least inform you of this.”

Countess Chelsea, more known as the woman who was behind the disappearance of the count. Her ability to turn organic matters into gems was, undoubtedly, inhuman. Therefore, there was only one conclusion waiting to be cast upon her, that she was actually a sinner. That power in itself was deadly, and without no doubt, it needed a tight supervision free of holes.

For some reason, though, when the bureau held her as a captive, she agreed without a fight. She did hide herself for quite some time, but after everything was exposed, she let herself being taken into the Minos Bureau of Crisis Control. She became docile. No one really knew why, but some would argue that Chief had a huge role in her change. The frightening monster that turned her enemies into gems as a mere revenge was no longer there, only a girl—closer to a maiden actually—who was seeking for an attention. However, as passive and obedient as she was, a sinner was still a sinner.

And according to how the rules worked, every sinner must be captured and secured within the confinement inside Minos Bureau of Minos Control. If not, and they conducted a well-thought break out plan, one wouldn’t be able to stop them all. Hell, they could do that without using a plan at all. Their powers were above humans, after all. To control them, it would be either by using weapons, especially the ones equipped with hypercubes, or by using Chief’s shackles which had been proven to be effective.

But today, or accurately these past 3 days, the chief might have bent the rules a bit for Countess Chelsea.

“It has been three days since we released Countess Chelsea out of her confinement and there hasn’t been a single report from her. We sent a few people to check on her mansion, but she wasn’t to be seen anywhere,” Nightingale explained.

“That troublemaker…”

For four days, Chief allowed Countess Chelsea to exit her confinement cell and went back to her mansion. Chelsea had to agree upon some condition, though, which made sense since the act of releasing a sinner out of their confinement without a proper reason would be considered as a crime.

One, Countess Chelsea had to make a report for each day she was outside the bureau. She would then send the report back to the bureau to be identified. How would the arrest crew identity that it was Countess Chelsea who wrote it? They made a special paper and ink in which only Countess Chelsea possessed it. Making a forgery out of it was also difficult.

Second, creating a problem that potentially could endanger the lives of other people would be dealt with a harsh punishment. The punishment was still up to a debate, especially considering how severe the problem she would create, in case she created any. It wasn’t a surprise, though. A reasonable condition for these dangerous people to roam around freely in DisCity.

Now, having reviewed these terms and conditions, it seemed Chelsea had already violated the first condition.

“How we should deal with this, Chief?” Nightingale asked. She still stood there, perfect posture as if nothing would ever budge her even an inch.

The Chief leant back on their chair. Their face looked tired. “Let her be.”

“Are you sure, Chief? Doesn’t that sound… quite irresponsible?”

“I can’t really deny that. But Countess Chelsea did ask for a four days long freedom outside the confinement. Let’s wait until tomorrow.” Chief raised their eyes until they and Nightingale made an eye contact. “In case we don’t get any report tomorrow, we will invite ourselves to her mansion.”

“…If that’s your order Chief, I will follow it.” Although Nightingale said that, it was quite apparent that she wasn’t really fond of the idea. She was Chief’s assistant after all. Anything that possessed the ability to be a threat to Chief would take her highest priority.

“Calm down, Nightingale. There’s no need to be worry,” Chief said, sensing Nightingale’s anxiety.

“I-I’m sorry. I think I’m just restless, Chief. Letting a sinner running loose in the city… an A-rank on top of that. If she decided to begin a riot…”

Chief listened to all of that. They stood up and walked elsewhere, leaving the desk covered with an uncountable amount of papers similar to trees in a jungle.

“Chief?” Nightingale asked.

Instead of answering, Chief stopped their steps at a coffee making machine. They grabbed two cups, poured the brown liquid until both cups were almost filled—just a few millimeters before they leaked from the cups’ mouths—and gave one of them to their assistant.

“Take this.” Chief pushed the cup gently, making sure the content inside it wouldn’t drop onto the floor.

“T-thank you, Chief,” Nightingale said. That was a very sudden thing, but she still took it, feeling the warm surface of the cup in her hand.

Chief put their lips on the cup’s mouth before tilting it upward a bit. The brown coffee flowed into their mouth. There was a sigh following that.

“To be fair, Countess Chelsea would be the last person appearing in my head if we were talking about a riot,” Chief said. They raised their eyebrows a little. “Don’t you think the same, Nightingale?”

“Ahhh…” Nightingale, still holding a cup in her hand, finally understood what her chief had just said. A little smile appeared on her face as she also enjoyed the warm coffee pouring down into her stomach. “I guess you’re right, Chief. Countess Chelsea is… more on the peculiar side.”

This particular sinner didn’t possess any threat toward Chief or anyone near Chief. That was a definite fact everyone had already known. Was it that much of a surprise, though? When the sinner wanted Chief to be her sugar baby—and to repeat that, *her. sugar. baby.—it would be safe enough to say no one thought her as a threat, at least for now.

“Let her go loose a bit. Sooner or later, she will come back,” Chief said while placing the empty cup on the desk.

“Okay, Chief.”

They began to close the curtain of their conversation. But at the same time, far from this closed office room, a woman—a bit taller than her peers—was tying her long pink hair into a ponytail. It was quite messy, but as long as it worked for her, it didn’t bother her that much. With what she was about to do, makeup wasn’t needed and yet, her face still radiated the usual beauty and elegance.

“Get me a knife.”

She was talking to a man standing beside her. In a mansion as big as this, having only two people felt pretty lonely. Then again, it was the truth.

The man, who was wearing a suit similar to that of a butler, offered a knife. “Are you sure you want to do this, Countess?”

“There’s no going back now. And since tomorrow is a special day, I want to do something more,” she said. There was a joy in her voice as she took the knife and began to chop a brown-colored block.

She didn’t make clean cuts. The sizes between each piece weren’t exactly the same, and she did hit her fingers a few times. But would it stop her? Absolutely not. She only had one thing in her mind and, like an arrow shooting straight, she wouldn’t stop until her shot hit the target.

It wasn’t a complex procedure, but since it was the lady’s first time, the lack of experience she had made all of it seemed more difficult than what it should have been. She melted the brown pieces using a pot. She stared as their previous shapes were no longer visible. Her butler was standing behind her. He couldn’t take away his eyes from his Countess, making sure that the lady he served wouldn’t accidentally turn the kitchen, or even the mansion, into ashes and “all hell break loose”.

The countess poured down the brown liquid into molds with a certain shape. Sweats were pouring down on her cheeks, and she made sure she wiped it again and again. The last thing she wanted would be adding the saltiness of her bodily fluid into the chocolate she had put her heart into.

“I think it’s done,” Countess Chelsea said. Her ponytail swung to the sides as she walked backward. “Just need to put it in the freezer.”

“Let me do it for you, Countess.” The butler stepped forward.

“Ah, I can do it myself. There’s no point in me making this if I’m asking for a help,” she said with a smile. Her apron was covered with melted chocolate. Her cheeks also suffered from the same fate, but she didn’t care.

The only thing on her mind was to make the best chocolate ever for a certain person. Thinking about them, she couldn’t wipe off that smile of her face.

Countess Chelsea turned her body until she faced her butler. “What about the other preparations? Are they already done?”

“Yes, Countess.”

“Perfect.” Countess Chelsea took a short pause. Her eyes lit up for a moment. “And… what about… ‘that’?”

It sounded ambiguous as if she was saying it in a secret code. The butler, however, understood that, and he—with no hesitation, nodded his head. “No need to be worry, Countess. Everything has been set according to your order. We will do it as soon as you say it.”

“Wonderful.” A grin appeared on the countess’s face. It could be because she had just heard such a good news coming from her subordinate. That or the fact the day she had been waiting from the beginning finally came into realization. “Just wait for me, Chief~”

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The next day, accurately when the sky was blanketed by a black sheet travelling across from one point to another.

14th of February.

Valentine’s Day.

Or rather, one would say it was an uneventful Valentine’s Day. Again, with the ruined landscapes all over the place, an activity called date would be the most depressing thing to do. And since no one had the energy to do it, it wasn’t much of a surprise that they didn’t plan to celebrate it.

Chief, however, had already expected something from Countess Chelsea. Knowing her nature, this Valentine’s Day wouldn’t just be another day. And that moment soon came into reality.

“Chief, there’s someone who wants to meet you,” Nightingale said, already standing inside the room.

“Is it Countess Chelsea?” Chief answered with another question. They believed their hunch would ninety-nine percent hit the mark.

It seemed that they missed that one percent mark since the person entering the room wasn’t Countess Chelsea. Heck, the appearance didn’t match at all. First of all, it was a ‘he”, not a ‘she’, so that was already a very clear indicator. He had his arms on his back, and that standing posture could only be achieved if you had done that for years.

“I know you,” Chief said. The familiarity this man had on his face reminded Chief of someone they saw when they had been abducted in Chelsea’s interrogation process. “That’s why your face is familiar. You are Countess Chelsea’s butler, aren’t you?”

“That’s absolutely correct, Chief.” He bowed. His professionalism oozed from every single movement he made. “I’m bringing Countess Chelsea’s message for you. ‘May I borrow you for today, Chief?’ That is her message.

Nightingale already knew the Chief’s response, but she wanted to confirm that. As her assistant, there wasn’t something called being too worried. “Will you really go, Chief?”

“We know she won’t do any harm to me,” Chief said while looking at Nightingale with a reassuring look. After that, they looked back at the butler. “Do I need to change my clothes?”

“Countess Chelsea said you look wonderful no matter what you are wearing.”

“If that’s the case, take me.”

“Then please follow me.”

The man took Chief outside, walking through several rooms and corridors before exiting the bureau. There was a car outside. Without skipping a beat, the butler opened the door to the car for Chief. It didn’t take long until the car’s engine started, and they took off immediately.

The absence of cars on the road made the trip all the way from the bureau to Countess Chelsea’s mansion go by so quickly. Chief was looking outside the window this entire time when they heard a voice next to him.

“Chief, what do you think of Countess Chelsea?” the butler asked. His hands were still firmly grabbing the steering wheel.

That question felt like it appeared out of nowhere. It made Chief turn their head. They eyes were now on the road. “Countess Chelsea is a pretty difficult person to handle with. Still, at her core, I believe she is a great person.”

“Even though she is a sinner?”

“That doesn’t matter.”

Chief didn’t have to think their answer before responding, Those words came out naturally, and when they reached the butler’s ears, the man let out a smile.

“I’m glad to hear that. Countess Chelsea is really looking forward to today. Please treat her kindly.”

They arrived much sooner than what Chief had thought. The butler parked the car right in front of a large wooden door sandwiched by two large white pillars. Even when the buildings around them were already in a state of dilapidation, this particular mansion stood up. Someone definitely had been taking care of it, looking at how pristine the walls were, and how the stairs leading up to the door were free of any dust, at least the ones that were visible.

“I’m handing over Countess Chelsea to you, Chief. Please take good care of her,” the butler said before Chief entered the mansion.

As soon as Chief stepped a foot inside the extravagant building, a female voice greeted them.

“Chief, you finally arrived.”

That voice was a sly and sultry one, seducing the listener with its tone. It echoed through what Chief would assume as the main hall of the mansion. The footstep sounds they had been hearing this whole time became louder with every passing second, and as soon as it stopped, Chief felt a gentle tap right on their shoulder.

“Good to see you, Chief. I hope the trip coming here was a pleasant one,” Countess Chelsea said.

“Your butler is an excellent driver.”

“Good to hear that.”

Countess Chelsea’s appearance was always eye-catching. For some people, her look would be too vulgar for eyes to feast on. No one could argue with that. She wore an unbuttoned shirt, wearing it as some kind as a cape. The effect, though, was her fully showing her chest for everyone. A dark red lace brassiere covered her bosom, but that was only it. Her skin was still exposed, and yet, it looked as if she didn’t mind that.

At the same time, it was her charm.

The way she wore the shirt like a cape gave a sense of freedom for her admirers. Her confidence was oozing through the way she dressed herself. Besides from looking bold with her choice of clothes, her classy long white pants gave a sense of elegance not many people could radiate.

Of course, she was called a countess for a reason.

She smiled. Every bit of change in her expression was a delight to see as she curled her lips upward.

“Welcome to my estate! Chief…You’re my rare and precious guest, just make yourself at home.” Countess Chelsea lay her right palm flat in the air. Her fingers were hanging on invisible threads. Some of them had small bandages plastered over the skin. Chief had a guess, but they kept it to themselves. “It will be so boring if you’re too nervous.”

Countess Chelsea didn’t hide the fact she was teasing with Chief, and she was natural at it. It wouldn’t be the first time Chief had heard it, though, as their face seemed unfazed. Instead, they took the invitation, placing their hand on the Countess’ smooth palm.

“I’m far from being nervous, Countess,” Chief said.

“You always have a counter for my words. But then again, that’s what I would like to hear.” Countess Chelsea gave a chuckle. She entangled her fingers into Chief’s, gripping them tight as her way of saying she wouldn’t let go of it in a short time. “Let’s come in. Dinner already awaits us.”

Countess Chelsea was leading the way, still holding and feeling the warmth of Chief’s hand. The mansion was spacious, as one would already expect. The corridor hall stood tall, lavished with high-quality paintings held by masterfully crafted canvases. It would beg for a question of how could this building withstood the harsh landscape.

Another thing Chief took into consideration is a cat, or maybe cats, since its plural form would suit what they saw more than before. When they were walking, Chief noticed some kittens following them. One wrong move and one of them would have been squished. But these cats were smart. They could avoid a danger as soon as it appeared.

“Don’t mind the kittens. I let them run around the house. Cute kittens deserve all of my affection,” Chelsea said before turning her head to see Chief. “Of course, I’m planning to make you as my number one kitten.”

“I don’t know whether to be happy or scared.”

“You can be honest all you want, Chief.”

They reached the dining room. It wasn’t as big as what Chief had thought. The walls were much closer to them, and the long rectangular table they had expected before entering the mansion wasn’t there. It got a smaller circular table covered with a beautiful white tablecloth, suitable for two people, placed in the middle of the room. The tablecloth itself had some fancy embroideries around its edges made using the strings with different colors. It was the work of a professional embroiderer, no doubt with that.

Even though the room wasn’t an extravagant one, it felt way more intimate. It seemed out of place compared to the big mansion, yet it didn’t feel weird whatsoever, at least that was what Chief thought. A chandelier hung above them, as it was the only light source in this room other than the candles set beside the table. Dark red curtains were covering their windows, adding another layer onto the wall.

Saying this felt romantic would be an understatement.

Chief walked to one of the chairs. The chair had a soft cushion on it. As the surface wasn’t that hard, Chief had a good time sitting on it. They looked at Countess Chelsea who, instead of sitting in the other chair, was walking toward the opposite direction where another door came visible to Chief’s eyes.

“You won’t be sitting down here?” Chief asked.

Countess Chelsea turned around. “Are you getting lonely?” She made a devilish smile, the kind that only an adult like her could make. “I will be joining you soon, so please wait for me.”

Chief didn’t have a chance to say anything else before Chelsea entered another room and disappeared from their sight. They didn’t know what it was supposed to be, but considering that Countess Chelsea had—most likely—prepared something, Chief chose to stay still. Meanwhile, the food was coming. The same butler brought the cuisine, placed the plates on the table. They exchanged looks but nothing else beyond that.

It was silence for a good few minutes. Chief kept waiting, feeling grateful that the soft cushion made them comfortable. While waiting, their eyes were wandering around, observing the place he was currently in. The flickering light from the candles warmed their body and also gave the objects around Chief a silhouette. Their silhouette also appeared, getting bigger and smaller depending on the direction of the flame.

Time kept moving, and when it almost reached the minute tenth, Chief could hear a sound. It was the sound of a door being opened—the same door used by Countess Chelsea to get out several minutes ago. But this time it was the contrary. The door opened and someone entered the room. It wasn’t just a normal “someone”, of course, as Chief couldn’t mistake that pink lustrous hair with someone else. Her current hairstyle was just a bit different from usual. It was a long braid behind her back, swinging to the left and right like a pendulum every time she moved.

“I didn’t make you wait too long, did I, Chief?” Countess Chelsea said.

What would be the most striking change on her was undeniably the clothes she wore now. Instead of the long white jeans combined with the unbuttoned shirt that showed her tenacious personality, the dress she was wearing touched upon more of her feminine side. It gave a different light, different aura surrounding her, and Chief couldn’t take their eyes away because of that.

Countess Chelsea decreased the distance between them. With each footstep she made, Chief felt their breath becoming heavier. There was no doubt they were in awe.

Having stood beside Chief, Countess Chelsea looked down. Her figure became much more visible than before, including the dress covering her body that Chief had never seen before. The color was a dark red crimson color as well as other variants of red, whether it was brighter or darker. The dress didn’t cover her shoulders and collar, though, as her skin emitted a somewhat alluring, sensual atmosphere.

Her dress exposed her legs from her thighs down to her ankle. The only thing coating them was the black transparent fabric attached to the dress, which would move just from the slightest shift of Countess Chelsea’s body position. With the absence of the sound and ambiance inside the room, Chief could hear the fabric rustling onto each other.

It was enough to say that Chief was stunned once they lay their eyes upon this woman.

“***Ara***… are you getting flustered, Chief?” Countess Chelsea said with a smirk. She bent down, and whether she knew or not, also revealed some part of her cleavage. But for a woman who didn’t really hide her body in daily basis, that wouldn’t be much of a concern. “It had been quite sometime since last time I wore a dress like this. I asked someone to make it, especially for this day.”

Countess Chelsea gave a gentle twirl. The dress followed. Her silhouette also danced along her movement, and the flickering light made her shadow on the wall looked more ether7al.

“So,” Countess Chelsea said as she held her balance using one leg, stopping her twirl, “what do you think?”

“…You look good,” Chief whispered those words. They soon changed their gaze to another direction as a way to avoid eye contact. “Now sit down. You made me wait too long.”

“Don’t be impatient, Chief.” Her grin widened. It seemed she was able to see through the Chief. “I didn’t hear you quite clearly. Would you like to say that again?”

“You definitely heard that.”

“I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did.”

“I said I didn’t.”

“Bad kitten would get punished, Chief.”

“Who is the kitten?”

“So let me ask you again, would you like to say it one more time?”

Countess Chelsea ignored Chief’s question. Her face was much closer compared to before. Usually at this moment, Chief would quickly say something to stop Countess Chelsea from whatever she was about to do. But this time, they were too dazed, enchanted by the beauty in front of them getting nearer with every last breath they took. Faint red strokes appeared on Chief’s cheeks. At this rate, their lips would be touching in less than seconds. Whether they wanted it or not, it seemed Chief didn’t choose to move and avoid that approaching kiss.

At least not until Countess Chelsea stopped on her own will. Some strands of her hair fell down on Chief’s face, caressing their face with such a delicate touch.

“Your breaths… Chief, you sound just like a kitten.”

As soon as Chief heard that, they became more sensitive and aware of what was happening. They felt Countess Chelsea’s breaths on their cheeks and ears, eyes and lips. Her eyes were vibrant, beautifully crafted similar to that of a gem. That realization made him go redder than before. And when noticing the effect of her little stunt there, Countess Chelsea felt victorious as another teasing smile appeared out of the thin air.

“Don’t be so tense, Chief,” Countess Chelsea said, backing off a bit until she stood with a straight posture. At that height, she could see that her tease was a bit more effective than what she had thought. The moment she saw the red burning blushes on Chief’s face, she felt her face getting hotter as well. “Well, I guess some part of me can be blamed as well. Sorry, it’s difficult for me not to tease you just a tiny bit.”

Chief cleared their throat. It seemed the effect Countess Chelsea gave was too much of a surprise for them. “Just sit down, won’t you?”

“You aren’t mad, are you?” Countess Chelsea finally sat in front of Chief. She pulled her dress, making sure it wouldn’t give a sense of discomfort throughout the dinner.

“I’m not.”

“That means I can be more aggressive later.”

“I hope that is a joke.”

Countess Chelsea only let out a small chuckle, not telling what fate Chief had to encounter soon. She placed the napkin on her lap. Chief did the same, but they were more awkward in doing it. Never had they needed to do stuff like this.

“Shall we have our dinner, then?” Countess Chelsea asked.

After a series of waiting, they finally began to eat the food. Chief had to look at the food one more time just to realize these were several cuisines they had never tried before. Maybe they had seen them once or twice, but tasting them? They couldn’t even imagine how these cuisines would taste like.

“Eat the food as much as you want, Chief. They are delicious,” Countess Chelsea said. She cut a small portion of the steak on her plate.

Even though Chief was a bit skeptical of the food, their tongue had never touched before, the scent was too tempting. The curiosity won over the worry, and soon enough, they already chewed the food. The texture was tender, and the taste immediately coated their tongue.

“How is it, Chief?” Countess Chelsea asked. Her sight was directed at Chief.

“Tasty.” It was the only word Chief said.

“Is that so? I’m happy to hear that.” Countess Chelsea stabbed another food with a fork. “Don’t be shy about trying everything. We have plenty for tonight. Of course, I can guarantee you will be satisfied.”

The sound of fork and knife hitting the plate echoed throughout the entire dinner. Chief, though admitting that their taste buds were no doubt pleased by the cuisines, started to feel the dry throat they had. Coincidentally, Countess Chelsea felt the same, as she reached for a bottle of wine next to the plates waiting to be opened.

“Push your glass to me, Chief. I can’t reach it well.” Countess Chelsea stretched her arm.

As Chief did what was asked, they noticed how the dress Countess Chelsea she was wearing restricted her movement a bit. They guessed the woman in front of them wouldn’t be able to make big movements for a while.

Countess Chelsea tilted the bottle. The dark red liquid came out from the bottle’s mouth into the glass with a pleasing sound. When the glassed reached half-full, she stopped and placed back the bottle next to them.

“You should try it, Chief. It’s hard to get my hand on something like this nowadays,” Countess Chelsea said as she brought the corner of the glass to her lips.

Chief twirled the glass. The wine in it moved alongside the movement, similar to that of a wave brought by the cool breeze in the sea. Soon enough, the red liquid poured down through their throat. The taste stuck in their tongue as they tried to comprehend the flavor.

“You look just like a connoisseur.” There was a faint red mark on the spot where Countess Chelsea had put her lips.

“I heard some people do it when they are drinking wine. But doing it right now, I only feel like I’m being quite pretentious.”

“Not really. People have the right to do what they want. Surely they can’t tell that twirling a glass of wine is similar to being pretentious, can they?”

“You’re not wrong. People like to assume stuff, though.”

“Then let them assume as much as they want. The time they waste is only theirs.” Countess Chelsea did the twirl as well as if she was trying to prove her point. “Enough about that. How is it? Is it to your liking?”

Chief pushed their tongue to their mouth’s ceiling as a way to capture every nuance in the flavor they were tasting. It took him a few seconds to come up with an answer, and it was only one word.

“…Weird.”

Hearing that, Countess Chelsea raised her eyebrows. She surely hadn’t expected that kind of answer, but she didn’t mind it at all.

“In a good or bad way?” Countess Chelsea asked.

Chief shook their head to left and right. “I can’t really explain it. There’s a part of it that I enjoy. On the other hand… I don’t know. I can’t really put it into words. Maybe this is just not for me.”

“That’s understandable.” She sipped the wine before continuing. “Personally I like wine. Red wine gives me that tingling effect I need from time to time.”

“Tingling?”

Countess Chelsea nodded. “Doesn’t red wine speak… sexiness to you?”

“I don’t… I don’t get it. Maybe it’s just you.”

“Maybe. I just like it. It is smooth. It is pretty… sensual. I think you just need to drink more, Chief, and you will get what I mean.”

As soon as she said that, Countess Chelsea refilled the red wine inside Chief’s glass. It was flowing down like a waterfall, and before Chief knew it, the glass was filled again with the dark liquid as if they hadn’t drunk it.

“Thank you.”

“No need to mention it.” Countess Chelsea placed the bottle back with a thud. Then, in a swift movement, she put her right elbow on the table, making a pillar which supported her head as she leant closer. Her eyes were locked onto chief’s, and her lips that were dyed in red stole Chief’s attention. “Or maybe you would prefer it if I gave the red wine mouth to mouth?”

Chief was startled hearing that unreasonable thing. If they were eating something, they would surely spurt out whatever they was chewing on.

“What happened? Are you okay?” Countess Chelsea, who definitely knew it was her doing, cheekily smiled.

“Nothing.” Chief just brushed it off. They felt the woman in front of them wouldn’t stop her barrage of teasing if they said something else.

“Is that so?”

Countess Chelsea kept smiling, a bit pointing at her right side. One would assume she had enough for the moment and pulled her body so that her back would be resting on the chair once more. It was the complete opposite of what was about to happen after, though. She took her fork that had a piece of meat on the opposite end, pulling it up to the air and bringing it closer to Chief’s lips.

“Say ‘ahhhh’.”

Chief’s body froze. They didn’t know what to think of it. The steak was hovering in the hair, waiting for the gate to be opened. Countess Chelsea couldn’t even hide her smirk for any longer. Looking at Chief’s red cheeks was truly an amusing thing for her.

“Come on, Chief. My arm would fall off if you aren’t quick enough,” she said while pushing the fork closer.

At this point, Chief only had one option. They looked at the steak and decided that it was better than nothing. Before knowing it, they already seized the food with their mouth, closing the gate as the chewing process started.

Every bit was filled with flavor that would make everyone salivating. The scent was also arousing. But in this instance, Chief couldn’t focus on the taste. No, their tongue couldn’t even capture the flavor, leaving it as a bland chewed food inside their mouth. They looked up, meeting with Countess Chelsea’s eyes again. They were staring intensely at Chief with a great care.

Then the lips moved again.

“What a good kitten.”

Simple words, but they were effective. Chief had never felt this embarrassed before, and they quickly swallowed the food, forgetting there was a chance for them to get choked.

“Y-you should stop playing with me,” they said. Their breath was a bit disarray.

“Sorry.” Countess Chelsea laughed a bit. “It’s just funny to see your reaction, Chief. I will stop… trying, at least.”

Chief wiped their mouth with the napkin. The dinner continued. Throughout it, though, Chief felt their heart was beating faster than usual. They realized the cause, and that realization only made the beating faster and rougher.

The steaks on both plates were almost finished. The candles kept illuminating their shadows. Countess Chelsea glanced at Chief from time to time. It seemed as if she had something in her mind but waiting for the right moment to say it out loud. For now, mindless conversation was the best she could do.

“So what will you be doing after this?” she asked. Her hands stopped moving after she had cut the steak into last three pieces.

More or less, Chief’s steak wasn’t that different from Countess Chelsea’s in size, only several bites left before the plate was emptied. “Return to bureau, probably.”

“You will be leaving as soon as you finish eating?”

“There’s nothing I can do here after all. I haven’t done some of the paper works. They are piling up on my desk.”

There were only two bites left on Countess Chelsea’s plate.

“The night is still young, Chief. Why don’t you stay a night with me?”

She teased them again. Looking back at how red Chief’s cheeks had become, Countess Chelsea expected the same reaction when she said that. But it went a bit differently, and she wasn’t that prepared for it.

“No can do,” Chief answered, simple and short. “Nightingale will scold me if I do that.”

“But you’re not a kid anymore.”

“I woke up just a few months ago, so that’s up to a debate,” Chief said while putting down the eating utensils in his hand. When Countess Chelsea looked down, Chief’s plate was empty. She didn’t even notice that. “Speaking off going back to the bureau, you will return tomorrow. Me returning now doesn’t mean we won’t meet again.”

“That’s true, but…”

Countess Chelsea didn’t know what to put into her words. Whatever came up inside her mind, it would just sound as if she was desperate. But having been through this, being desperate would be the last concern she had.

“It is just one day….Can’t you stay? We will come back tomorrow. Together.”

This entire time, Countess Chelsea had thought everything was already in the palm of her hand. Her desperation became much apparent than before, to the point it was visible to Chief.

“Countess, as much as I would want to stay here, you know what other people think of you.”

It was an answer that cut deep inside the woman’s heart. The first time it happened since she became something else, something that couldn’t be compared as a human. A sinner.

“…Is that what you think of me, Chief?” Countess Chelsea didn’t have the courage to look at Chief’s face. Everything, for her, was crumbling away. “I can’t blame you. I’m a sinner after all. You saw it yourself… I killed those people.”

Chief was looking at Countess Chelsea. Their gaze stayed there, not even inching away from that straight line. It was an expression they had only seen once on Countess Chelsea’s beautiful face. Chief squinted their eyes before grabbing the napkin on their lap. It wasn’t for them, though. Instead, they got up from the chair, leaving the comfort their chair brought just to reach Countess Chelsea’s cheek.

The countess noticed that. But rather staying still and accepting that gesture, she slapped that hand and backed away. The distance between them increased. Countess Chelsea, who usually pushed her way in into people’s comfort zones, distanced herself.

“Sorry,” Countess Chelsea said, realizing what she had just done. “But you shouldn’t touch me, Chief. I’m a sinner, remember?” She showed a pained smile, much dimmer compared to her usual smiles. “I’m a monster. You’re right. It is too dangerous for you to be here.”

“I have never said that.”

“But everyone thinks that. I have a criminal record for a reason. These hands aren’t innocent anymore, Chief, and I think it will be the best if we create a distance between us. I don’t want to put you into any danger.”

Chief sighed hearing that. This would be the first time they got a rejection from Countess Chelsea. To them, it felt wrong. It felt strange, And of course, no matter what the words coming out from Countess’ mouth were, Chief wouldn’t agree with something made so abruptly. When Countess Chelsea backed away, It was Chief’s turn to push the opportunity. Their hand was much closer to Countess’s Chelsea lips. The napkin touched one side of her cheek gently.

“Stay still, won’t you?” Chief said. They pressed the napkin without too much force before sliding it down as if something was just wiped out. Countess Chelsea was just sitting there, a bit surprised that her refusal didn’t work. “There’s a sauce in your cheek. You don’t want to leave a dirty spot here, do you?”

Hearing what Chief had to say, Countess Chelsea finally stopped resisting, She let the napkin on her cheek. It had been quite a long time since somebody did this to her, or probably the first time. She didn’t really know, but she knew that it was comforting her.

“You’re a human, Countess,” Chief said. “It doesn’t matter whether you are dangerous or not. The fact that you saved me using your power is still here.”

Countess Chelsea remembered that day when Chief had been abducted. It was the first time she showed her power to them. How scary it was for her. It was the fact she brought danger to Chief’s throat that scared her. Even though it wasn’t her plan, just being around her could endanger someone, and thinking that one of the most important people in her life had to deal with that was frightening.

She had to act tough this whole time, teasing and flirting to hide that vulnerability behind that cheeky smile. The last thing she wanted would be Chief hating her.

But once again, Chief betrayed her expectation. They weren’t running away from her. They actually reached their hand just to clean the dirty spot on her cheek. This entire time, they were closer than what she had thought.

“It’s clean now.” Chief sat down again.

Countess Chelsea touched the spot where Chief had pressed the napkin. Her fingers brushed her skin. When she pulled those fingers, the sauce was no longer there. The pained smile from before vanished, and now it became a delighted expression.

“You’re right. It’s clean.” After saying that, Countess Chelsea finished off the last two bites, leaving her plate in the same condition as Chief’s. She made sure to wipe the sauce on her lips. It was only when her lips were all cleaned when she thought of something. “Ah, I should have let you clean it up again, Chief.”

“Now you’re just taking an advantage out of me.” Chief washed down their throat with the wine.

“It’s not like that. And although you said it like that, I have no doubt you would do it again if I asked you.”

Chief didn’t respond. They were concentrating at their drink, or at least they tried to concentrate.

“Chief,” Countess Chelsea said. Her eyes were brimming with light. “I know that my request sounds absurd, but if it’s possible, I do really want you to stay here. At least for a night.”

It was a sincere request. Chief, of course, was taken a back for a bit. “You’re really persistence, aren’t you?”

“Persistence is a part of my life, Chief. From all people, I’m sure you know that the best.” Countess Chelsea gave Chief a wink. Her expression was much brighter than before. “But it’s okay if you—”

“Well, I guess it will be okay if it’s only for a day.”

The quick response from Chief forced Countess Chelsea to cut her words short. “That’s a fast answer.”

“You keep insisting after all. Or what? You want me to answer differently?”

“No. Not at all. That is the best answer I can ever hope for.”

Having talked nonstop without a break, Countess Chelsea took this chance to clean her mouth and throat using the red wine. She would like to say that the drink soothed and calmed her nerve, but that wasn’t the case. After noticing what Chief thought about her, happiness overwhelmed her. At the same time, her heart kept beating fast, and it felt as if her blood was boiling.

Even then, there was one task left for her to do. An important one, or maybe some would say it was the most important event in this entire night. Something that people would do in this particular day.

“Chief…” Countess Chelsea started slowly. Her voice was a lot quieter than what she thought. “You know that today is Valentine’s Day, right?”

“Nightingale told me.”

“Then do you know what people usually do today?”

Countess Chelsea’s hands were restless. For some reason, putting them in one place was almost impossible. Her palms were sweating, and she kept curling her fingers. The sound surrounding her slowly faded away from her attention, gone just for this moment. That made the sound of her heartbeat become louder. She had never felt this nervous before. Her rosy cheeks were prettier and more noticeable now, glimmering as the candles’ light made her look more sparkling.

Her hands were trembling, but it didn’t stop her to reach for something from the pocket in her dress. She pulled it up, hiding it first under the table. The embarrassment was more than what she could imagine, and any longer than this would result in her heart bursting into tiny pieces. Even then, the happiness she experiencing now overshadowed her distress.

At last, she raised her arms. On her palm was a transparent plastic that allowed outsiders to peek at the content inside. At first, the things stuffed inside it looked like chips. They were small, could be easily held using two fingers. She gave the plastic bag to Chief who set their palm flat in the air.

“This is for you,” Countess Chelsea said. As soon as the plastic bag left her hands, she pulled her arms back, not wanting Chief to notice how sweaty they were.

“Thank… you?” Chief was a bit puzzled. It happened out of nowhere. It was at that moment when they looked harder through the transparent plastic. And in that compact present, Chief could see chocolates filling the space to the brim. “I see. So this is why your fingers are covered with bandages.”

“I guess I couldn’t really hide that.” Countess Chelsea showed her fingers, some of them were covered with bandages more than the others. “Do you mind trying it now?”

“Not really. I still have an empty room in my stomach.”

Chief opened the wrapping. They entered their hand through the hole, reaching for one of the chocolates laying down on the bottom. As their fingers touched the chocolate, they could feel the bumps and ridges on it. Countess Chelsea was clearly not good at making chocolates, and the texture Chief was feeling now proved it.

On the other end of the table, Countess Chelsea couldn’t look away from Chief who was observing the chocolates. The thumping sound of her heart deafened her ears. Many questions ran through her mind. The taste, the texture, the look—she had the right to be worried over everything. If the things she made using a lot of effort turned out to be a failure, how painful that would be for her.

However, what Chief had to say after this showed that there was nothing to be worried about.

“It’s delicious,” Chief said while pulling another piece of chocolate and putting it inside their mouth. “Thank you. I really like it.”

Countess Chelsea felt weak. The worries that had been weighing her back disappeared just like that. “I’m glad. I will make sure to make you another one soon, Chief.”

“I will be looking forward to that.” Chief smiled. From their words, it sounded as if the day almost reached its climax. But with a gesture that even shocked Countess Chelsea, Chief pulled out something from their clothes. It was another wrapping, and one could immediately guess what was inside it. “I want you to have this.”

Countess Chelsea took it. Since Chief used the same transparent plastic, she was able to see through the cover. As one would already guess, chocolates were inside it. They were in a much worse state, though, with every piece couldn’t even hold their shapes. Whether they were crushed the moment Chief made them or in the way towards the mansion, Countess Chelsea wouldn’t possibly know the answer. It didn’t matter, though, since those chocolates still painted a sincere, beautiful smile on her face.

“I didn’t ask you to make this, but thank you Chief. I like it very much,” Countess Chelsea said.

“Even when you haven’t tried it?”

“I know I will like it. Sadly my stomach is full, so I will be enjoying your homemade chocolates later.”

“It is a bit embarrassing if you put it like that.”

Both of them were smiling. The burning flame beside them was almost gone, but there was another blaze of passion within those two. As they looked into each other’s eyes… as the darkness blanketed the sky for their night being together.

Countess Chelsea stood up. She walked to the side, approaching the curtain with every step she made. The moonlight was coming in through the gaps on the sides, and when Countess Chelsea turned her body, it turned into a magical sight which mesmerized Chief. Her dress captured her elegance, and her rosy cheeks showed her charm. She raised her arms while still clinging on the chocolate, pressing that present to her chest. It was closer to her heart than ever.

“So Chief, the night is still young, isn’t?” she asked. “What do you say about spending the night with me? Just the two of us.”

#path to nowhere #pathtonowhere #ptn #ao3 writer #fanfic #ptn chief #path to nowhere chief #ptn countess chelsea #countess chelsea #fanfiction

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callmelittlebuttercup · 11 hours

Text

Peace Offerings Pt. 16

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

Chapter Summary: As they make their way back to Jackson, the Reader and Joel make a discovery that sparks a desperate hope in Reader and causes them to stray from their original plans to return to their haven.

Chapter Warnings: pitfall trap, claustrophobia, blood, mentions of stab wounds. (A pretty tame chapter ;))

Masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part Sixteen

It wasn’t without pain or sorrow, but Joel and I were making good time on our travels back to Jackson. He’d stopped trying to fill the empty space with distracting dialogue, but he showed he cared in other ways. Since he understood why I could no longer stomach it, he took the jerky for himself and harvested berries and roots for me to fill up on, along with the bread Tommy had snuck us. He handed me our shared canteen every once in a while, making sure I was hydrated, and other small things like that. One thing I appreciated more than anything was that he never asked me how I was doing. I hated that question even before tragedy struck. No one wanted to hear the real answer and always expected you to say “good how are you?” I obviously wasn’t good, so Joel knew there was no point.

I was walking inatentively behind Joel when my foot kicked something hard and a melodic sound rang out. I looked down to see a blue, metal canteen at my feet. My stomach squeezed when I realized how familiar it was. I dropped down to pick it up and turned it around in my hands. The lump in my throat grew larger when I read the name scribbled onto it.

Matthew Doe

My hands quivered as I stared at the memorabilia, questioning if it was real. Joel had noticed I wasn’t behind him by now and was standing there, trying to be as patient as possible. “What’s that?” he ased as he made his way towards me. “It’s…” I gulped and held the bottle up to him, “It’s Matthew’s canteen.”

His face dropped as his eyes wandered over the sloppily written signature. “It was his from scouts in high school. Must’ve kept it.” I observed. Joel’s face was now twisted into a puzzled look. “What?” I questioned. He stared at the bottle, looked around us, and then took the map Tommy had given him out of his backpack. “We’re taking an obscure route back. Definitely not one that the watch would take out this way. It’s strange that we’d find his stuff out here if he was… if he died back there.” He thought aloud. “What are you saying?” I asked as a hopeful feeling bubbled through my chest. He breathed deeply and pressed his lips together. Definitely deciding whether to tell me this information or not. “Joel,” I pushed, standing up and grabbing the his hands which were still wrapped around the canteen. He took another breath, “I don’t think he really died at David’s.” My hands were still ontop of his and they tightened around them with anticipation. “So you’re saying…” I began to speak, but he cut me off, “I’m not saying he’s alive, but I think he at least managed to escape.” I stepped away, suddenly feeling a second wind of hope. “I have to find him.” I breathed. My name left Joel’s mouth cautiously, “Let’s be realistic.” I turned to him, “Joel, he could still be alive. I have to find him.” I said again as I began to desperately search for footsteps in the snow. “If you won’t go, I’ll go by myself.” I demanded. He sighed and didn’t answer me for a moment. I gave up and continued to search, pretending not to care whether or not he followed me. “We can look for him if you promise to not get your hopes up. I can’t see you like that again.” Joel blurted from behind me. My eyes met his pitiful ones and I nodded, “I promise. Come on.”

I was lying. I most definitely had my hopes up. The possibility of Matthew still being alive was the one thing I needed to keep going. Of course it would destroy me all over again to find out he really was dead, but I would be a fool to not take the chance that he could be out there somewhere.

About 20 feet away, footsteps began to appear in the snow. They manifested in patches of untouched snow. It was like puting together a puzzle piece, but the line of prints was somewhat straight. “Seems like he knew where he was going.” I said aloud as I kept my head trained towards the ground. “That’s because there were two people.” Joel said, pointing out the fact that there were a total four footprints next to each other in each track. “So others in his group survived?” I asked. “Maybe.” Joel shrugged. I felt a smile creep its way to my lips, but I couldn’t let Joel see my optimism and swallowed it down.

After 30 minutes of following tracks, I felt Joel’s hand wrap around my arm and yank me back forcefully. I glared at him, but he pointed to a barely visible piece of string pulled tought between two trees. “Tripwire.” He grunted, “We’re in someone’s territory. Stay behind me from now on.” I nodded and followed his demand, never letting a distance larger than three feet come between us.

Joel kept his eyes forward and I kept mine on the ground, looking for tracks along with any more booby traps. The coast was clear until Joel stopped in his tracks, causing me to slam into the back of him. He reached a hand around to steady me. His response being on the opposite end of the spectrum from when we first started our journey. There was no gruff “Watch where you’re going.” No scowl of disapproval. Just a gentle, protective hand curling around my waist. My hands clung to his back at the first sign of trouble and I reluctantly removed them from his warm, muscular form. “What is it?” I asked as I peeked around him. “S’a pitfall trap.” He informed me. The tone of his voice was low. It usually dipped further into the bass clef when he was concerned. “Don’t think these people are gonna be very friendly. You sure you want to get involved here?” His stare was intense as he questioned me. I swallowed hard and nodded, “We’ve gotten through worse before, I’m sure.” He cocked his head to the side and raised his eyebrows before turning around and cautiously feeling out each step to make his way around the trap. I followed behind him, though not as close as before.

Clearly not close enough. After my next step the ground gave out from under me and I tumbled down into the pit, landing hard on my back. The impact knocked the breath from my lungs and I gasped desperately for air as I sat up on my elbows. Joel immediately leaned over the edge, sheer panic spread across his face as his arm was stretched out towards me. “Shit. Grab on, quick!” He urged. The world felt like it was spinning as I peeled myself off of the ground. I used the wall to keep me upright as I moved to where his hand was outstretched. I reached up as high as I could, even stood on my toes and tried to climb the wall a bit, but the distance between us was still too wide. I heard Joel curse under his breath before standing up and turning to walk away. “Are you going to leave me here?” I asked shrinkedly. “No, I’m not going to leave you here. I’m going to find something for you to grab onto.” He said it like I was stupid. I sighed and slapped my hands over my face. He was angry at me again. Unlike just minutes ago, we were moving backwards.

Suddenly, I heard a gun cocking and I moved to press myself against the wall and as out of sight as possible. My first instinct was to call for Joel, but I didn’t want to make noise on the small chance that I hadn’t been discovered yet. I was wrong. I stared up at the wide opening of the hole and made eye contact with what looked to be a 10 year old kid. “H-hi.” I said cautiously. “Lucy, get over here.” Another voice called out. It was a man’s. “But daddy, there’s a lady!” She called out. I stood there awkwardly, trying to look as unthreatening as possible. I could only imagine that Joel was looking the opposite. “Yes, honey but there’s a man right here with a gun pointed at us. Stay still.” He said in a soft, informative voice. I heard the safety of the gun being clicked back on and the man breathed, “Thank you.” My throat tightened when I realized why Joel had put the gun down. It was a little girl.

“I’m John, and this is my daughter, Lucy. I’m unarmed and pose very little threat to you so I appreciate the fact that your gun is pointed at the ground right now.” Joel had no response to the man’s spiel except for a gruff, “Get her out of there.” I rolled my eyes at his lack of manners during this negotiation. “I will, sir, as soon as you drop your weapon and step away from it.” There was a long, silent pause before I heard a muted thump and the sound of Joel’s boots crunching in the snow. The top of his head disappeared from view as he stepped away. I hadn’t realized how much comfort the mere sight of him brought me until it was gone. Once close to frostbite, my palms became slick with sweat.

After what seemed like the longest minute of my life, a rope ladder dropped down in front of me and I wasted no time scrambling up it. When I reached the last rung, Joel grabbed onto my arm and hoisted me up the rest of the way. “Thank you.” I breathed as I studied my captors.

The man was younger than Joel but older than me. No older than 45. He had light brown hair and brown eyes, unlike his daughter who donned blonde curls and crystal blue eyes. She was staring at me with the brightest smile I’d seen in years. “Hi, Lucy.” I said politely. “Hi.” She said excitedly and asked, “What’s your name?” I told her my name, much to Joel’s dismay, but he stood there with a glimmer in his eye as he watched the little girl and I’s exchange.

“So uh, I assume you guys will be on your way now.” The man said awkwardly. He was desperately trying to seem tough, but his softer side was unmistakable. “Actually,” I blurted before Joel could speak, “We’re looking for someone.” The man’s eyebrows raised. “You are?” He asked. “We have a man! He’s tall and has hair like mine and he’s pretty like you!” The little girl squealed. “Lucy,” her dad reprimanded gently before turning back to Joel and I, “We did have a man stumble onto our property a couple of days ago. He was in real bad shape, had a gash from a cleaver in his chest. Would that be him?” Lucy chimed in again, “He sleeps a lot.” Her dad shot her another look, but gave up on trying to get her to quiet down.

I almost broke down in tears right then and there. There was no mistaking that it was Matthew. The words weren’t able to leave my mouth so I helplessly looked to Joel who nodded and said, “That might be him.” I swallowed and breathed, “Can we see him?” The man pressed his lips together and thought for a moment before answering.“I guess I can’t say no, can I?” He chuckled awkwardly as his eye shifted between Joel and I. I stared at him with a blank face that said “No, you cannot.” He understood my expression. “Well, you two seem like nice people, but before we head back I’m going to need you to hand over all of your weapons. You’ll get ‘em back when you leave. I promise.” My eyes shifted to Joel knowing he’d absolutely hate this idea.

His eyes flashed with worry, but they softened when they shifted between the girl and I. “Alright.” He sighed as he dropped to the ground to rummage through his bag. I stood there alongside Lucy and watched him pile guns and knives onto the ground. I, too, wondered where he’d gotten all of that from because we most definitely did not leave Jackson that heavyhanded.

Once the man was in possession of (supposedly) all of Joel and I’s weapons, he began to lead us back to the house. “It’s about a mile through the woods here, and then there’s a small pathway to the house. There are still traps so keep your eyes and ears peeled for my warnings.” The man explained as if he was a tour guide.

Joel and I had fallen behind the man and his daughter a bit. “You okay? That was a hard fall.” He whispered. “Yeah, surprisingly. Just a little sore.” I croaked. He nodded and looked ahead again. “Joel?” I said, reaching for his hand, “Thank you for doing this.” He wrapped his fingers around my palm and squeezed a bit, “‘Course.” By the way he was looking at me, I swore he was about to lean down and kiss me, but our heads were both jolted ahead by Lucy’s tiny, yet loud voice. “Are you guys married? My mommy and daddy are married and that means they can have babies. They only had one baby and it’s me!.” I almost giggled at her innocence, but the awkwardness of her question turned my cheeks red. I didn’t know what Joel and I were, but we were most certainly not married. “Lucy, that is none of your business. Keep on ahead now, honey.” Her dad said as he shot us an apologetic look. I smiled at him and Joel remained expressionless. The rest of the walk to the house was silent as Lucy became occupied with questioning her dad up ahead.

My hand was still latched onto Joel’s and it squeezed with anticipation as we started up the stone path to the house. My feet dug further into the ground as we reached the stairs. My anticipation quickly turned to anxiety as I realized I was either getting close to devastation or a miracle. Joel noticed my slowing of pace and squeezed my hand again. “S’okay. I’ve got you.” He whispered. I followed him up the steps and stepped across the threshold of the house. “Honey?” The man called, “We’ve, uh- We’ve got visitors.” A beautiful blonde hair, blue eyed woman shuffled out of the kitchen with a concerned look on her face. Her eyes met Joel’s first and then quickly jotted to mine. She smiled, “Hello.” I smiled and nodded, my throat was too swollen to speak. “They think the man in the back room may be her brother.” John explained. Her face fell and she nodded slightly, “Oh. Okay. He’s sleeping now, but I’m sure you’d still like to see him, right?” She asked me. I nodded again. She held out her hand and I replaced mine from Joel’s to hers.

The hallway she led me down seemed to feel twice as long due to my anxiousness. She finally stopped infront of a wooden door and knocked lightly. There was no response. Her hand wrapped around the doorknob and cracked it open a bit before gazing in. I tried to peek in over her head but nearly fell when the door opened all of the way. The skinny, gray man laying in the bed slowly moved his head towards the door, his eyes squinting from the light. I could barely see him through my welling eyes, but I knew it was Matthew. I rushed to kneel next to his bed and avoided touching him in case of any injuries. “Matthew.” I breathed. His eyebrows twisted in confusion, “Sis?” He choked. I nodded. “Holy shit,” He reached over and wrapped his arms around me the best that he could, “You found me.” I laid my head onto his chest and breathed deeply for a moment. “I thought you were…” I couldn’t say it, but he cut me off anyway, “I almost was, if it hadn’t been for these folks.” I turned to the woman who was standing in the doorway. “Thank you for saving him.” I sobbed. She nodded and smiled before disappearing back into the hallway. “How the hell did you find me?” He asked in awe. “Well, they sent a group of us out after you’d been missing for a while. There were two raider attacks and then long story short, I met David.” I explained. His face dropped and his eyes darkened at the mention of the evil man. “He didn’t-” He began to ask, but I shook my head, “No, he’s taken care of now.” He nodded and his chest fell as he let out a breath, “You did that all by yourself, sis? Badass.” He said before coughing a little. He was still incredibly weak. “Not necessarily…” I said quietly, “There was a group of us too. I mean, yes, I killed David by myself because we all got separated for a bit. It’s just Joel and I now.” I saw his jaw clench ever so slightly. Despite our many conversations, I could still sense Matthew’s disapproval of Joel and I’s… situation. “The same thing happened to us.” He said quietly. “I’m so glad you’re okay.” I breathed, changing the subject quickly. “I’m getting there.” He said before peeling off the blankets to reveal a blood-soaked bandage stretching across his chest. My stomach folded in half as I eyed it, and he quickly covered it again with the blankets. “I’ll be okay, sis. I promise.” He said as he cupped my now ghost white cheek into his cold hand. I nodded. “I’m glad you’re okay too.” He whispered.

~~~~~~~~~~

Masterlist

Taglist:

@demonsasss @ashleyfilm @ayamenimthiriel @scarlet-daisy @jellybeanxc @briyannaholt @hujickova @morgaussy @vivian-pascal

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letmesniffurdaddysfeet · 18 hours

Text

Forbidden Desires - my boss - Part 1

My boss has always had a certain allure to him. He may not be a model, with his extra pounds and graying beard, but he exudes an aura of masculinity. I try my best to hide any hint of my fantasies, especially since our relationship has been strictly professional and even friendly since I started working here one year ago. He seems to appreciate my work, and I strive to be the model employee. But deep down, I can't help but imagine walking into his office for something other than just dropping off the weekly sales report... His 'daddy bear' demeanor in a suit is incredibly alluring. However, what was once just a fantasy has become slightly more complicated with this upcoming business trip. The news that I would be accompanying the big boss on our company's annual conference in Chicago has stirred up conflicting emotions within me.

As the day of departure approached, I found myself both nervous and excited about the trip. It was a rare opportunity to spend extended time with my boss outside of the office, and I couldn't deny the flutter of anticipation in my stomach. Packing my bags, I tried to push aside any inappropriate thoughts that crept into my mind. This was a business trip, after all.

Arriving at the airport, I spotted him waiting by our gate, looking as handsome and commanding as ever in his tailored suit. He greeted me with a warm smile, and we boarded the plane together. The hours in the air passed quickly with work-related discussions and polite small talk.

As we checked into our hotel in Chicago, I couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement at the prospect of spending the next few days in such close proximity to him. But as we entered our shared suite, I reminded myself to maintain professionalism at all times.

Little did I know that this business trip would test my resolve in ways … I never could have imagined. The first day of the conference went smoothly, with my boss leading meetings and networking with other professionals in our industry. As we returned to our hotel room that evening, I excused myself to take a quick shower before dinner.

As I stepped out of the bathroom, my body still damp from the shower and wrapped in only a towel, I was shocked to see my boss leaning against the window. He had his back to me as he changed into fresh clothes, but I couldn't help but steal glances at his muscular chest and strong arms.

Feeling my heart racing and heat rising to my cheeks, I quickly looked away, trying to compose myself. But the desire stirring within me was growing stronger by the second.

"Sorry, I thought I would have time to change before you finished your shower," my boss said with a casual smile as he turned to face me. "I hope I didn't make you uncomfortable."

Suppressing a shaky smile, I desperately repeated the mantra "Don't get turned on, don't get turned on!" His intense gaze bore into me as he asked if I wanted anything from downstairs. My reply was a stammered mess, trying to mask my embarrassment and will my body not to betray me by getting hard. As he left the room, I exhaled a shaky breath of relief... only to realize my cock was fully erect and pulsating with arousal. Hurriedly grabbing some clean clothes from my suitcase, I caught sight of my boss's socks lying innocently on the corner of the bed. An irresistible impulse took over as I brought them up to my face, burying my nose in their musky scent without a second thought. The rush of pleasure was overwhelming as my penis leaked precum, revealing in the potent masculine aroma emanating from the fabric. I couldn't resist any longer and eagerly tasted the sweat-soaked socks with my tongue, savoring every drop of testosterone-laden essence.

In that moment, I was lost in an intoxicating frenzy of lust and desire. My fingers reached down to my pulsating erection, and I began to stroke myself slowly, relishing the silky texture of the socks against my skin. The sensation of my own arousal mixed with the scent of my boss's sweat filled my mind and body.

images flash through my mind, his smug face at his desk, feet propped up, barking orders for me to serve him.'' Take off my shoes and lick my feet !"

My hands tremble as I grab one of his dirty socks and wrap it around my throbbing cock. With a perverse hunger, I taste the other sock with my tongue, imagining it's his sweaty foot flesh. It all becomes too much and I explode in ecstasy, a guttural moan escaping my lips. But as reality crashes back in, I'm left holding the evidence of my taboo act, consumed by shame and the fear of being caught.

Out of breath and reeling from the intensity of my climax, I quickly wiped the remnants of my release with the damp towel. My heart was pounding, and adrenaline rushed through my veins. I realized that I had no idea what time it was or how long he had been gone. I couldn't shake the guilt or the thrill of the taboo act. The scent of my boss's socks still lingered in the air, a potent reminder of my sinful actions.

As I carefully disposed of the socks, a wave of paranoia washed over me. What if he came back early? Or caught a whiff of the forbidden aroma? My mind raced with hypothetical scenarios, and I knew that I had to find a solution. I couldn't let my feelings for him cloud my judgment or put my job in jeopardy. And yet, the thought of his commanding presence and the pleasure he had given me was too powerful to ignore. My mind was in a constant tug-of-war between my desire and my fear.

In a state of intense confusion, I decided to take a walk around the neighborhood, hoping to clear my head. As I stepped outside, I couldn't help but feel the lingering effects of the intimate encounter with my boss's socks. The air outside felt fresh and invigorating, but all I could think about was the taboo act I had committed.

I aimlessly wandered, trying to distract myself from the overwhelming thoughts. Eventually, I stopped at a coffee shop and returned to my room. And there he was, holding his dirty socks with my cum on them, waiting for me...

#socks #guys in socks #sock play #sock worship #black socks #dress socks #sheer socks #daddyfeet #malefeet #gayfeet

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in-my-loki-feels · 9 hours

Note

🤎 multiple kisses / kisses all over / kiss after kiss - if you're still doing these for the ask game!

Don't think too much about logistics or this probably falls apart. I just went with my first thought, which turned into this sappy mess. 🙈

(I'm also counting this as a bingo fic but all of that will be at the end.)

🤎 multiple kisses / kisses all over / kiss after kiss

Mobius had never been to space, but he supposed that it might have felt like this: drifting through nothingness in a bulky suit, witness to the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen—well, second most. Either way, the screens at the TVA hadn’t done it justice. It was breathtaking, vibrant green and blue and purple ribbons of light, and somewhere deep within was possibly, hopefully, the god who had saved them all.

He knew this could be a fruitless endeavor, and maybe even a one-way trip, but he’d had to try. After waiting so long for a sign, what could he do but go look for one himself? Especially after O.B. had told him he’d possibly found a way to reach the Citadel at the End of Time, a place Loki had described but Mobius never expected to see for himself. As he drifted closer, Mobius could see that the tree before him was made up of countless glimmering timelines, all woven together to create a slowly shifting, shimmering Yggdrasil. The Tree of Life. The connection between the Nine Realms, and now all of time, he supposed. Mobius wondered how exactly he’d get inside. He’d told O.B. he had a plan but the truth was he was making it up as he went along. He’d had to say that to get O.B.’s help to make it this far. He couldn't rely on O.B. for everything. Just as Mobius thought he’d have to raise his hands or bump face-first into the tree, the timelines slowly parted before him, allowing his momentum to continue carrying him forward. The inside of the tree glowed with as much light as the outside. It didn’t seem entirely hollow but there was definitely space for him to float forward. There were also scattered pieces of black rock that had veins of gold running through it. A larger chunk looked like it could have been a piece of a window. It took Mobius back to the moment he’d received the file that changed his life forever, standing in the golden light passing through a stained glass window. His foot bumped into something and he came to a stop. It was difficult to see in his cumbersome suit, but when he moved his foot around it felt like something stable. It also, strangely, felt as though there were gravity now. Mobius lifted his other foot and found another surface just above the first. Stairs? Slowly, laboriously, Mobius ascended the steps. His breath caught in his throat when he reached the top and saw a familiar figure seated on a golden throne. Mobius’ legs shook with exhaustion and anticipation, but he forced them into motion so he could cross the space between them. Loki looked ethereal surrounded by the sparkling, swaying timelines. He still held some in both hands, but the rest seemed to be woven into his cloak, stretching out all around him. Loki’s hair moved as if nudged by a gentle breeze, but Mobius couldn’t feel anything inside his suit. Loki’s eyes were open, glowing the brilliant green of his magic, but as Mobius waited, there was no sign he saw Mobius at all. He was silent and still, the guardian of all of time now. Always. Mobius couldn’t stay in this stupid suit any longer. If his skin was gonna get peeled off at least he’d have one last look at Loki unobscured by a window pane or dirty helmet. He fumbled with the heavy latches, not wanting to remove his gloves just yet. Finally, the clasps snapped open and he was able to turn the helmet enough to unlock it. With shaking arms, he lifted it off his head.

Loki looked no different than he had through the visor: motionless, bathed in the light of the timelines he protected. Mobius stared long enough to realize he hadn’t turned to spaghetti or had his skin peeled off. He waited a few more seconds just to be sure then decided if it was safe enough for his head it would be safe enough for the rest of him. He hurriedly stripped off the rest of the suit and then approached Loki. He’d had no plan for what came next and still didn’t. All he knew was there was a growing need within him to touch Loki, to know he was real. He started with Loki’s hands, so cold they seemed as if they should be frozen stiff. Mobius was able to take them in his—careful not to brush the timelines—and press a kiss to each knuckle. He kissed the back of each hand, then turned them over and kissed the pale underside of each wrist. When he looked up, Loki’s eyes were still unseeing, or all seeing perhaps. He was the guardian of the timelines now. The God of Stories, but what of his own? Mobius swallowed down that bitter thought and gently set Loki’s hands on the arms of his throne. He reached out to cup Loki’s face and found his skin was just as cold here.

Mobius leaned forward to press a kiss to the crown Loki wore, made of the same black stone threaded with gold that floated around them. Below that, he placed a kiss on the center of Loki’s forehead. He kissed both brows, then each cheek and then hesitated before placing a gentle kiss on Loki’s lips. They were as cold as the rest of him, so Mobius kissed them again and again until he felt he had transferred some warmth. Loki’s mouth remained still against his, but what else did he expect? Even if Mobius’s vision was a little blurry when he pulled back, he didn’t mind. This was still more than he thought he’d ever have when Loki locked the doors against him and Sylvie and walked out onto the gangway alone. Mobius brushed his thumb across Loki’s cool cheek and wondered if he could chafe warmth back into Loki’s hands without disturbing the timelines. Then Loki blinked. Mobius’s heart stopped. He waited, counting the seconds in his head. At thirty, Loki blinked again, then after a shorter wait, a third time. The green glow remained in his eyes but his gaze shifted ever so slightly to focus on Mobius, instead of looking through him. Loki blinked one more time, a slow brush of dark lashes against pale skin, and then his eyes widened ever so slightly. “Hey there,” Mobius said in a thick voice. A tear escaped the corner of Loki’s eye, rolling down his cheek to land on Mobius’s thumb. Mobius felt his own eyes overflow as he leaned forward to press another kiss to Loki’s lips. This time, he felt a gentle tremor against his mouth before Loki kissed him back.

This unintentionally mirrored an idea I had for a longer bingo prompt fill (which I still may do!) but I'm going to go ahead and count it towards the "citadel" and "together at the tree at the end of time" squares. @kcscribbler @lokiusbingo Bingo card here!

Also shoutout to @thosegayoldmen for planting this idea in my brain a month ago. It never let me go!

#i have a few more of these but I'll try to spread them out more #i guess i could put them on ao3 too?#ask game answers #lokius fic #wanderingflame fic #lokius bingo #loki #mobius #wf kiss game

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olanii1019 · 1 day

Text

In the bustling suburb of Greenfield Heights, where streets lined with oak trees whispered secrets in the wind, lived two inseparable friends: Yuta and her. They’ve had been neighbors since childhood, their houses separated only by a narrow lane that they traversed together every day to and from school.

The girl was the quiet, introspective type, known for her love of books and her insightful observations about the world around her. Yuta, on the other hand, was the extroverted adventurer, always seeking out new thrills and leading the way in their escapades. Despite their differences, their friendship had weathered the storms of growing up together, strengthened by countless shared memories and mutual support.

As they entered their senior year of high school, something unspoken began to stir between them. She noticed the way Yutas eyes lingered on her a moment longer than usual, how his smile seemed a tad brighter when she walked into a room. Yuta, too, found himself captivated by the girls laughter, by the way her eyes sparkled when she spoke about her dreams.

Their friends, ever observant, began to tease them gently about their closeness. Nobara the girl’s best friend since kindergarten, often nudged her with a knowing smile whenever Yuta was nearby. "You two are so obvious," she would tease, earning an eye roll from the girl in response. Meanwhile, maki yuta loyal wingwoman , would jokingly hint at Yutas infatuation whenever she was within earshot, causing yuta to playfully shove her while denying everything with a laugh.

One crisp autumn afternoon, as they walked home together through the golden haze of falling leaves, she felt a surge of courage swell within her chest. The sunlight filtered through the trees, casting dappled patterns on the pavement as they strolled side by side.

"Yuta," the girl began hesitantly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Yuta turned to look at her, his expression curious yet attentive. "Yeah?

She took a deep breath, her heart pounding with nervous anticipation. "There's something I've been wanting to tell you," she confessed, her words coming out in a rush. "I...before she could say anything else she sees the most popular girl in their school waiting for them to stop talking while listening intensely."

“Uh.. you know what? Nevermind! It was stupid I’ll see u at home alright?”

“She Said as she pushed him gently in the direction of the girl as he looked at her concerningly but decided to go waving her goodbye as she watched him get farther and farther..before she finally let out the tears from her eyes as she sank to the floor crying loudly feeling the raindrops drop onto her body as she felt the rain go away for a second as she confusingly looked up to see a pinkish-red haired boy stare at her with a glowing smile and brownish eyes with a worried look. “You okay?.. im Yuji Itadori!

#jjk gojo #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fluff #jjk x oc #jjk x you #jjk #jjk smut #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk megumi

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mopopshop · 3 days

Note

hello hello!! absolutely love your fics! i was wondering if you write for kelsey plum? if so could you write an age gap fic where reader gets signed to lv and kp automatically takes a liking to her and casually flirts her way to a date with reader

Flirt (Kelsey Plum x OC)

i wrote this high, i’m still high so i hope it eats😝 please enjoy and give feedback if you’d like!!

You never imagined you'd be here, standing in the middle of the Michelob Arena, with your name freshly signed to a WNBA contract. It felt surreal, like a dream, and your heart raced with a mix of excitement and nervousness.

As you finish the final paperwork, you catch sight of Kelsey across the facility. The realization sends a thrill down your spine. You've heard stories about her intensity on the court and her infectious charisma off it. What you hadn't anticipated was the way her eyes would light up when they met yours.

"Hey, Leah, right?" Kelsey's voice is smooth, confident. She walks over, her stride effortlessly casual, and extends a hand. "Welcome to the Aces. I'm Kelsey."

You shake her hand, trying to keep your composure. "Thanks, It's an honor to be here."

Her smile widens, a hint of mischief in her eyes. "The honor's all ours. We’ve been keeping an eye on you. Impressive stuff."

Your cheeks heat up at the compliment. "Thank you. I'm really excited, you know— for all of this."

Kelsey nods, her gaze lingering on you a bit longer than necessary. "How about I give you a quick tour? Show you the ropes?"

"Yeah, that’d be great" you reply, grateful for the chance to get to know her better and to familiarize yourself with your new surroundings.

As she guides you through the facilities, pointing out various areas and sharing stories, you find yourself relaxing in her presence. Kelsey had a way of making you feel at ease, her natural charm and wit drawing you in. Her gaze intense and alluring.

"You know," Kelsey says as you both reach the locker room, "you're going to fit in just fine here. But there's one thing you need to know about me."

You raise an eyebrow, curious. "And what’s that?"

"I'm a bit of a flirt," she admits with a playful grin. "So if you ever feel like I’m coming on too strong, just let me know. I promise I can tone it down."

You laugh, the sound light and genuine. "I'll keep that in mind."

Over the next few weeks, Kelsey stays true to her word. She flirts casually, making little comments that send your heart fluttering. She compliments your game, your style, even the way you tie your shoes. It's never over the top, but always enough to keep you on your toes, wondering if there's something more behind her words.

One evening, after a particularly grueling practice, you find yourself alone in the gym, shooting some extra free throws. You're focused, determined to improve, when you hear footsteps approaching.

"Up for a game of HORSE??" Kelsey's voice echoes through the empty space.

You smile, turning to face her and fake a grimace “You really wanna do that? Cause I’ll beat your ass and it’s not gonna be cute"

“Damn, rookie. Trash talking me now?”

“Just warning you” you shrug sarcastically.

She rolls her eyes playfully “Fine, but let’s up the stakes for whoever loses” you look at her and she stares back expectantly.

“Set your price, rookie”

Finally realizing what she’s saying, you respond quickly “If you lose… you have to let me style your pre-game fits for the next— two weeks”

She grins lightly “Okay, okay, I’ll take that. But if you lose— you gotta… let me take you out sometime”

You freeze and your breath catches in your throat “…Okay.. but don’t hold your breath” you tease as you calm down.

She laughs, grabbing a ball and joining you on the court. You play your game of HORSE, the tension between you palpable but unspoken.

The game winds down, leaving Kelsey with a win. She approaches you sheepishly, spinning the ball between her hands.

“So… about that date..?” she smirks.

You chuckle, shaking your head at her persistence. "I guess a date wouldn’t be that bad”

She grins triumphantly, tossing the ball aside. "Tomorrow night? We can grab dinner after practice."

You consider it for a moment, a rush of excitement mingling with nerves. "Tomorrow night sounds good."

"Perfect," she says, her smile widening. "I'll pick you up at seven."

As she turns to leave, you call after her playfully, "But don't think this means I'm going easy on you in practice!"

Kelsey laughs over her shoulder. "Wouldn't have it any other way, Leah"

#ncaa women’s basketball #women’s basketball #ncaa #wnba #wlw #las vegas aces #kelsey plum

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iamawolfstarsimp · 5 months

Text

Sup bitches im back

currently snowing where I am so thought I'd make a cute lil cozy fluffy fix for ya'll (plus, who doesn't like those)

Hope you all are well, I recently got sick and finally am rid of whatever sort of illness it was. but I'm just gonna get into the swing of things again now that I'm better so what better way to do that than write a fic for ya'll

but anyway, enjoy!

Sirius didn't know what this feeling was. A sort of misplacement.

It happened every few weeks or months, where Sirius would wake up and not feel right in his bones. As if his soul was uncomfortable in his body.

It wasn't like the regular winter or autumnal melancholy, but a deeper feeling than that. It weighed him down for however long it stuck around, dragging within him like some sort of ball and chain.

You could usually tell when it happened, the symptoms were pretty obvious. He was less energetic and wasn't in on any pranks or mischief making, he ate less and dressed more proper instead of his usual mushed up look, and either avoid the others like the plague or follow them around like a helpless puppy.

He rarely ever talked to anyone about it (as far as Remus knew) except for James. He would wordlessly crawl into James' bed when he felt the need to and they would talk (so he presumed, they always put up a silencing spell. He used to wish he could know what they talked about behind those curtains, to be included in their mystery conversatios. It hurt sometimes how Sirius would hide away all of the things he found ugly about himself and only show them to people he truly trusted. Of course, those memories were years ago, before they had even started dating so now he got to see plenty of Sirius' parts. Both the good and bad.)

On days or nights he felt that sense of longing or depression, he would crawl into Remus' bed and they'd talk or not talk. Whatever Sirius needed at the time.

This time was one where he wanted to talk. It was morning before classes and the others had already left. Remus was never a morning person so he stayed and slept in, snoozing his alarm every few minutes.

Sirius walked over and opened his curtains timidly. Remus turned and looked before smiling.

"Can I come in?" Sirius murmured. Remus nodded and rolled over to open the blankets for Sirius to crawl into which he did gladly.

"You wanna talk or jus' 'ere for a cuddle?" Remus slurred, blinking awake.

"Both?" Sirkha shrugged. Remus wrapped his arms around Sirius' shoulders, ducking his face into his shoulder to hug him. They stayed like that before Remus pulled back.

"M'kay, what's up?" Remus asked, resting his head on his pillow but remaining eye contact.

"I don't really know, I just-" Sirius sighed, looking away. "How do you feel upset about something that you don't feel upset about?"

"Like, I feel sad about my body right now but my head knows I'm hot and I have no reason to dislike myself but I do." Sirius explained, looking up at him.

Remus paused, letting the air settle. "Feelings and emotions can be confusing. Sometimes you can't control or rationalize them. They can be wildly incorrect but you still feel them not matter how you much you try to rid of them." Sirius looked away again. "And that's okay." Remus turned his face so that he'd look him in the eye. "Sometimes the best thing you can do is just feel, even if that's all you can do."

"No one's gonna judge you for being human and not loving yourself all the time." Remus smiled.

Sirius gave a small smile back. "What's bothering you this time?" Remus asked.

"Just my scars," Sirius replied, tracing up and down Remus' arm as he spoke. "Memories of how I get them, the pain I experienced as I got them, the house." Sirius shuddered slightly, shaking his head. "God, the house."

"I understand." Sirius knew he did but felt glad to be reassured. "My scars get to me too."

"Yeah, but, your scars are badass!" Sirius said immediately. Remus eyerolled but he was smiling. "Yours are like battle scars, they make you even hotter. Mine are just evidence of where I came from."

"If anything your scars are "battle scars", with all the fighting you and your mother had." That got a chuckle out of Sirius. "Mine are self-induced and you know that." Remus aimed a poke for Sirius' middle. Sirius swatted away his hand.

"Don't be mean."

"Don't be such a grouch." Remus snarked back, poking him again.

"Don't tickle me." Sirius grabbed his hands, or tried to.

"Oh, sorry, was I tickling you?" Sirius grinned and rolled over, hiding his face.

"You know you were, you meanie!" He said into the pillow.

"Can't help it, you're too fun to mess with." Remus leaned in and spoke in Sirius' ear, hands moving to wiggle against his sides.

"Rehemus!" Sirius shouted, arms slamming down to protect his sides.

Remus only grinned and continued. Sirius flipped over to properly defend himself but only succeeded in revealing more spots for Remus to "torture".

"No, wait, don't!" He laughed as Remus pinched along the bottom of his stomach. He threw his head back and cackled, hands weakly hitting Remus in the arms and shoulders.

"Hm? Don't what Padfoot? Honestly you're making no sense right now." Remus tutted, kissing the corner of Sirius' outstretched mouth.

"Tickle me! Don't tihihickle me!" Sirius giggled, yelling when Remus slipped his hands underneath his loose sleep shirt.

"Tickle you? Well if you insist." Remus shook his head and drilled his fingers into the bottom of Sirius' ribs, kissing different places his mouth could find. Sirius was lost in his own mirth, back arching, squeaking all the while squirming like mad.

Remus backed off and just trailed his fingertips across Sirius' sides lightly. He tugged up his shirt to inspect the scar that ran across Sirius' side, three prosice lines cut evenly on his left side, his mother's doing. He traced the lines a few times till Sirius caught his breath.

"You're an awful boyfriend." Sirius scowled, but there was amusement in his eyes. Remus only laughed and kissed him again.

"Better?" Remus raised his eyebrows.

"No, but I'll accept your measly apology for now because we have class in twenty minutes." They both hopped up from the bed.

"But I expect a hundred more later!" Sirius shouted from the bathroom. Remus shook his head in the moment but fulfilled Sirius' request and some.

Hope you liked!

#sirius black #remus lupin #tickle fic #marauders #harry potter #tickle #wolfstar tickle #this turned out way longer than i anticipated #and a little sad #but a happy ending

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muldery · 8 months

Text

@lgbtqcreators battleship bingo — friends to lovers

i'm here at the beginning of the end, the end of infinity with you (in/sp)

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judasofsuburbia · 11 months

Note

i’m gonna say 🔀 for steddie and also perhaps steve/barb if that floats ur boat (it’s a rare pair kinda day)

OOOOOOO the steddie angst that comes to mind with this........

I got appointments, work I have to do Keeping me so busy all the day through They're the things that keep me from thinking of you

i'm thinking businessman steve who travels constantly for work and meets eddie at a bar some night while he's passing through. they hit it off immediately, they have great sex, but steve lets him know that he's not looking for anything serious. that work comes first.

eddie's so fine with this.

until steve keeps passing through hawkins. keeps seeing eddie. keeps calling eddie. keeps giving eddie glimpses of himself through their intimate nights and then disappearing before the sun is even up.

eddie used to just have one job, now he has three. teaching guitar lessons at the instrument store, gas station clerk, and a boring office job where he enters data all day. he had to get more jobs because he can't stand being home. he can't stand eating dinner by himself, crawling into an empty bed, all the silence, all the loneliness. he's like a lovesick puppy at home and it's not good for him.

so he keeps busy. only home to sleep before his alarm clock blares and he's out and about.

only tonight, there's a mice infestation at the gas station. place is closed down until it's solved. he has a night off and he's dreading every moment.

eddie slumps up to his front door and opens the door to steve.

with a bouquet of roses.

"honey, you're home," steve jokes. looking like a fucking dream in his work suit. eddie pinches the inside of his elbow. nope, not dreaming.

"what are you doing here?" eddie asks. "how did you get in?"

steve awkwardly lowers the bouquet and rubs a hand on the back of his neck sheepishly.

"uh, your neighbor let me in," steve explains.

eddie is gonna have a stern word with mrs. driscoll about letting strangers into his house. but he can't help but feel the automatic relief seeing the man who runs through his head 24/7 standing right in front of him.

eddie finally closes the door behind him and walks up to steve. he takes the roses, admiring them in his arms. steve kisses his forehead and it's so intimate that eddie wants to cry.

"how long are you here for?" eddie whispers.

"just for the night," steve whispers. he sounds almost sad. eddie chalks that up to his own utter exhaustion. a delusion. because work always comes first. eddie knows that.

eddie places the roses on his coffee table and runs his hands up steve's chest. he twirls his hand around his tie, bringing him in for a deep kiss. one that has steve groaning into his mouth.

"this is nice but--" steve says in between kisses.

"hmm?" eddie answers as he peppers kisses down steve's jaw.

"i thought we could get dinner or something," steve says. this gives eddie pause. he pulls away to look at steve with an eyebrow raised.

"like a date?" eddie questions.

"yeah," steve replies with that fucking charming smile.

"that's not what we do," eddie states, venom lacing his words. he doesn't mean it to come off that way but he can already picture steve leaving tomorrow morning and it's breaking his heart.

"i know but maybe it's something we can do," steve whispers, kissing eddie's cheek. his eyes are so hopeful, it melts eddie's brain.

"okay," eddie agrees though there is alarm bells going off in his head. every thought he has is "turn back, stop, don't do this." he doesn't listen to any of it.

they get dinner. at a place eddie could never afford, even with his steve distraction-guided income. steve is a perfect gentleman the entire meal. eddie feels drunk off of it or maybe that's the expensive ass wine he's been sipping.

when they get back to eddie's apartment, steve takes his time taking eddie apart. kissing every inch of skin. hands wandering, exploring, teasing. driving him absolutely insane. every time eddie tries to reciprocate, steve waves him off. says that tonight is about him.

after arguably the best sex they've ever had, the most intimate and personal sex they've ever had, eddie is laying his head on steve's chest. his throat feels tight as steve lightly scratches his back, humming along to the radio.

eddie's hands unconsciously clutch onto him tightly. that maybe if he held on tight enough that steve wouldn't have to go. steve could work here. be here. stay with eddie forever.

steve hisses, chuckles, and gently pries one hand away. "you okay?" steve asks.

"yeah, sorry," eddie grumbles. he tries to roll away but steve just pulls him back.

"wanna talk about it?" steve says into his hair.

"no."

"sounds like you do."

eddie huffs and sits up enough to rest his chin on steve's pec. steve is looking at him with the softest expression but it turns worried the longer eddie frowns at him.

"what?" steve asks. "did you not like what we did?"

"of course i liked it. i always like it."

"well, i'd hope so."

"i like it too much."

"i'm not following."

eddie huffs and hides his face in steve's chest. he can feel tears brewing in his eyes. he can't cry in front of the man who told him all those months ago that this is strictly casual.

"you should go, steve," eddie mumbles.

"what?"

"i can find you a hotel."

"eddie--"

eddie yanks himself out of steve's hold. can't look him in the eye. he gets out of bed, slips on his boxers, and runs a hand over his face.

"it's better if you just go now," eddie whispers, voice cracking.

steve sits up, slides out of the bed, and walks up to eddie slowly. he tilts his chin up and sees eddie's watering eyes. he caresses eddie's cheek even as eddie squeezes his eyes closed.

"i don't want to go," steve whispers.

"you're going to eventually anyway," eddie bites back.

"i never want to," steve confesses.

eddie blinks his eyes open, a few stray tears escaping down his cheeks. "what?"

steve exhales and presses his forehead against eddie's. "i never want to leave you, eddie. why do you think i keep coming back?"

"for your job--"

"no," steve interrupts with a small frustrated groan. "well, yes, but they get me a hotel every time, eddie. but i choose to come back to you. i choose to see you. every time."

"because we're sleeping together--"

"eddie, i'm gonna shake you," steve threatens with a huff of a laugh. he presses the gentlest kiss on eddie's lips and eddie can't help but succumb to the feeling. "i like you. that's why i keep coming back. i miss you every fucking minute on the road. i hate, hate leaving you. honestly, i was just waiting for you to tell me not to come back."

"i wouldn't. i want you here, steve. with me."

"then come back to bed."

send me a 🔀 and a pairing, and i’ll shuffle my playlist and make an au based on the first song that comes up

#THIS TURNED OUT WAY LONGER THAN I ANTICIPATED LSKJFLKSDFJ #listen businessman yuppiecore steve rotates in my brain ALL THE TIMEEEE #shuffle song ask game #steddie #steddie ficlet #steddie au #asks

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itsalwaysforyou · 4 months

Text

the black sky and all those lights

a silly little something i wrote for jalentines!!

When Mal opens the dormitory door, Jay is standing in the hallway in his workout gear, hair tied up in a bun. He’s already grinning in that way he does when he wins a fight. Mal rolls her eyes at him. Grabbing her bag, she says bye to Evie, and joins Jay in the corridor.

She scowls as they walk, her workout clothes tight on her skin. Jay had insisted they’d do things properly, and not in their usual leather.

The hallways are decorated for Valentine’s Day, making Auradon Prep even more gaudy and colourful as usual. Pink and red hearts plastered across the walls, boasting the abundance of love here in Auradon. Jay’s had a thousand notes in his locker. Mal’s had none. Every morning, she watches Jay approach his locker like he would a target on the Isle. Weight forward, shoulders squared; ready to fight if needs be. And the paper falls to the floor like blood, only sickly pastel. Scrawled glittery gel pen. Words confessing passionate love, or asking him on dates, or doodles of hearts. Jay smiles the whole time. Greets and winks at girls. Scrunches those notes up in a fist.

“Everywhere looks disgusting,” Mal says as they approach the sports hall. Heart-shaped bunting crests the doors.

Jay holds the door open for her. “It’s fun.”

“You would think that.”

The sports hall is mercifully free of décor. They drop their bags in the corner and begin to warm up, another stupid practice Jay insists on. His top rides up as he side-stretches. Isle rule: never show skin, especially to the enemy. Except, Jay loved to parade around in those stupid sleeveless vests. She’s yelled at him plenty of times about it—Are you insane? You’re a walking target. He would just grin and say, they’ll have to catch me first.

Jay laughs as he grabs the practice swords from their stands. “Here.”

He throws it, and Mal catches. The weight in her hand is familiar. Already, her pulse is thrumming faster, and maybe if she closes her eyes she’ll be back on the docks, with the wind ripping at her hair, and the salt stinging her nose, and half a dozen of Uma’s crew jeering over the clanging of swords.

Jay chucks her a mask too, before attaching one to his own face. The mesh turns her vision slightly hazy.

“Ready?” Jay asks.

Mal’s watched fencing practise a few times, mostly as an excuse not to do homework and instead watch her boys wipe the floor with all those prissy Auradon princes. Coach Jenkins appointed Jay captain of the team a few months ago, a role he takes more seriously than she’s ever seen him take anything.

“Rassembler! Salute! Lower the point. Masks down. En guarde!”

Mal lunges first, which Jay clearly anticipates, parrying her blow. He circles. Strikes. Mal blocks it. He’s quick. Reflexes honed to a sword’s point; learned by practise and theory. Mal lashes out again, just catching his free arm before he jerks away. She grins underneath her mask. Her breath comes quicker. Jay’s blade arcs down, hitting her chest. Mal swats his blade away. She hears him laugh. She growls. Strike. Parry. Strike. Block. Strike. Jay lands another hit. Their shoes squeak against the linoleum floor.

“Come on, Mal,” Jay teases.

Mal lunges like a cat on its prey. Jay’s blade grates against hers like steel against flint. Jay may be quick but Mal’s smaller, and she weaves her way through Jay’s blade until they both have the sword’s point angled at each other’s chests.

They’re both panting. Jay lowers his sword first. Takes off his mask.

“You came in clutch at the end,” he says.

Mal huffs, wiggling the mask off her face and wiping her forehead with a sleeve. “You actually get training.”

“And now I’m training you!”

His hair has loosened during the sparring, spilling out at the seams. He unties the bun; flips his hair down and shakes it out. In this late-afternoon light, his hair could be made of gold. Hair longer than Mal’s ever had.

He pulls his hair back into its bun, deft fingers making quick work. When he straightens back up again, his face is slightly flushed from the match.

And Mal looks at this boy she’s known most of her life; this face and these hands; a boy that has held her at the end of the world and the start of a new one. And she snatches back down her mask.

“Again,” she says, lifting up her sword.

She’s swinging before Jay’s even had the chance to pull his own mask back down. Her blade slices against his chest, and she hears the breath escape from his lungs.

“Fuck!’

Jay’s blocking her hits in no time. Mal grits her teeth. A boy who’s inhabited every place she’s ever been. The shadow along the street; a fixed point on the rooftops. Those long, quick fingers that know their way around bandage; around open flesh; around her own hands. Like a comet to Earth. Like an eclipse. Totally consuming.

And here, where the sun shines brighter than they could have ever dreamed, she is left blistering. Those girls that fawn over Jay, professing their love with the same ease that Mal can hold a dagger to a throat. Jay’s clicking tongue, and that low fry to his voice when he’s chatting someone up. Everything is always so easy to him. He can wrap anyone around his finger with a wink.

His blade slams into her stomach. Mal pants, the budding pain in her side clearing her head. Jay’s standing above her like some heavenly deity.

“Best of four?” he offers.

“Yeah, whatever.”

“C’mon. Let’s take a break.”

Jay drops his sword and grabs his water bottle from his bag. Mal joins him, still gripping her sword, gulping down her water like a man in a desert.

“We should do this again soon,” Jay says.

“Tomorrow?”

“It’s the Valentine’s Ball tomorrow.”

Mal snorts. “Yeah, and?”

“I was gonna go.”

His words are coming too slow; too considered. Like when he used to talk about his dad, or a particularly bad Barge Day. Rehearsed. A guard dog who’s smelled danger, prowling at the sidelines.

Mal presents her blade. “En guarde!” she shouts, and Jay ducks her swing before scrambling over to his own sword.

“Really, Mal? Another sneak attack?”

“I’m keeping you on your toes.”

They waltz around the sports hall, the blades clashing and slicing and singing.

“We all agreed we weren’t going to go to the Ball,” Mal says, jabbing at Jay.

“We never agreed anything.”

Jay lands a blow. They are at the dockyard, with its rotting wooden pier and dead fish stench. The screeching of metal; the shouting; Mal’s heart hammering like the tide. Blood, and life. The roar in her ears. A dragon’s call. Body moving without a thought, as quick as a lightning strike. Not having to look behind her because she knows Jay is there.

“Exactly!” she says. “Why would we want to go to some stuffy Auradon ball?” Jay tries to say something but she ignores him. “Why would we care about Valentine’s Day? It’s corny, and over-commercialised, and a stupid excuse to make everything about love.”

Jay has her backed up against a wall. With no time to mount his mask, his lips are slightly parted, and his hair is escaping from his bun again. He looks just like he did on the Isle; none of his perfect prince act that fools Auradon. His sword hovers above her throat.

“Do you yield?” His voice is low.

Mal stares at him. Those eyes that have seen every part of her. All the blood; every smile; her pale skin in the dark Isle nights. The boy that has beheld her every action; weighed it all against his own understanding of the world, and decided that they slot together as easily as a bullet in a pistol.

“Who are you going with to the Ball?” Mal asks. She’s still clutching her sword. She could claim the upper hand, if she really wanted.

A grin creeps across Jay’s face. All those notes and heart-shaped lollipops. The giggling girls at his locker. He could pick any one of them. All of them so beautiful, in their sunset-coloured dresses. He could have anything he wanted.

“Well,” Jay says. “I was going to ask you.”

The sword’s point makes sure they keep their distance. Never too close. All touches so light; so fleeting, as if you could’ve mistaken them for a dream. As if you could’ve imagined the whole thing. All those nights in the hideout where the barrier of the body seemed thin, and the world became so small: just two kids who wouldn’t even dare knock knees.

So Mal shakes it all away with a laugh. “I’m not going to the Valentine’s Ball.”

Jay lowers his blade. Neither of them move. “Not even with me?”

“I’m sure there’ll be plenty of other girls who actually want to go with you.”

“I want to go with you.”

His words echo through the empty hall. His word is as steadfast as ever, the only opinion Mal will ever trust. Compass, anchor: Jay does it all.

Heralded here, Mal as real as the vast sky outside. Here, in his gaze, held aloft by trust where there shouldn’t be and compassion where there shouldn’t be and understanding where there shouldn’t be. A home for all her broken bones.

Mal’s lips unfurl into a smile. This ache in her chest. In her throat. Jay always being able to disarm her. Jay in every place she’s ever been. Jay as her shadow; her skin; her second self. A reflection in the mirror. The line of separation is nonexistent. Like the sun, like the moon: one cannot exist without the other.

#did this turn out way longer than i anticipated? absolutely #but i had a lot of fun writing it :) ive had to write a lot of things that Matter recently so it was nice to just. not have to try so hard #anyway anyway I LOVE THEM #i just think. mal being soooo annoyed that jay gets to play the carefree flirt #all these people that dont know him being 'in love' with him meanwhile mal can barely come to terms with her own feelings for him #and she communicates that through violence :)#and jay. jayyyyy. doesnt really want anything to do with these notes. like sure he likes the attention but he doesnt KNOW any of these girl #and they dont know him. and no one could know him like mal does :)#i also purposefully left the ending ambiguous teehee :) so i guess we'll never know what happened thumbs up emoji #descendants #jal #jay son of jafar #mal bertha #my fic #also i am not a fencer so everything i know is from the jay/lonnie right in d2 and google 👍 sorry to any fencers out there 👍#*fight

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