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parchmentedpetrichor · 3 years ago

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➳who cursed the bludger? ♡

in which the reader's dominant hand is injured badly after a rogue bludger slams into it and none other than fred weasley is behind it. who cursed the bludger?

fred weasley x fem!reader

word count: ± 2k

tw: serious injury, a little bit of swearing

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ft. penny clearwater

who cursed the bludger?

y/n was currently draped lazily over her broomstick, haven given up trying to teach penelope clearwater how to fly. said prefect was on the grass, smirking as y/n embarrassedly looked around.

"penny that's not ok to ask!"

"fine, fine," she pondered for a moment, "hey, what's up with you and fred weasley, huh?"

"nothing at all," y/n answered a little too quick for penny's liking.

"c'mon, y/n, you're younger than me, i should know all that happens. you two are very...flirty."

"yeah well, my dear pennysylvania, we have flirty personalities. duh."

"no, you don't."

"okay, i don't. he does."

"but he seems like he means it."

"of course he means it? he says it in a joking way? y'know, he means it as a joke."

"hmm, nope, i don't think so, y/n. he's looking your way right now."

"i'm probably blocking the space, let's move outta the way."

"you're not gonna play with them?"

"already play in matches, why now? let's chat."

fred was silently eavesdropping on their conversation as he heard his name.

"sooo you and perceeee??" y/n dragged out, grinning as she did loop-do-loops with her broomstick.

penny blushed, but looked disappointed, "he likes oliver."

"oh. well, f percy, what about marcus??"

"he's just marcus. we're best friends, y/n."

"my fav trope of romance is best friends to lovers," y/n wiggled her eyebrows suggestively and penny shook her head in amusement.

"my one is the opposites attract."

"hmm yeah, that's a good one too, it's really cute! say, aren't you and mar-"

"i was meaning you!"

"huh?"

"you and fred."

fred smirked as he listened, flicking back the bludger harshly at angelina.

"oh yes because we are totally meant for each other," y/n sarcastically replied.

"what's that supposed to mean?"

"yes."

"you're doing this on purpose!"

"hmm? what?"

"oh my goodness, merlin you're stupid bro!" penny said exasperatedly.

"and you just realised. congrats, penny."

"anyway, what i'm saying is you and fred are rather like opposites. although he's extroverted and you're extroverted, you're a cute little nerd," y/n huffed at this 'i am n o t a nerd for the last time!' "and he's a class clown in the most charming way. you like reading and he likes pranking people and quidditch. you're a goody two shoes, an adorable one, but he's this foolish jock," penny looked proud with her argument so y/n laughed, "you're modest and he's very confident. and you're both hot."

y/n smiled, "i am not hot!" she giggled, "that's stupid."

"oi, ange!" penny called to angelina who looked over at her in amusement.

"yeah?"

"is y/n hot?"

"oh, totally!" angelina casually threw the quaffle into the hoop, "10/10."

"guyyys you flatTer me," y/n stretched out as the three of them laughed, "i'm bLushIng."

"you actually are," angie quipped.

"it's a command thing. if she wants to blush, she'll blush," replied penny.

they burst into giggles again.

fred watched y/n. a rosy pink, sure enough, had spread across her cheeks. that was enough to get her blushing?

"oi, l/n!"

y/n's head snapped his way, her eyes narrowed as if expecting an insult being thrown her way.

"your lips are pretty!"

her form relaxed, "thanks! yours are too!!"

penny giggled as angie rolled around laughing.

"what?" y/n looked around.

"the way you return flirting is hilarious."

"a compliment for a compliment, isn't that what they say?"

angelina snorted, "no one says that."

"oh well i say it, so deal with it."

"hey, i have an idea!" penny brightened up.

"let's hear it!"

"let's teach y/n pick up lines, ange!"

"oh you're a genius, penny!"

"okay, so-"

a bludger came whizzing at y/n as she screamed, trying frantically to dodge it. it hit her hand and a crack was heard.

luckily she immediately hopped off calmly, taking out her wand shakily and stunning the bludger, before penny and angie helped her over to the hospital ward, fred lagging guiltily behind.

she was ordered to stay in bed rest and with drowsy eyes she drifted off.

fred watched her feeling so terrible as he saw her heavily bandaged hand, imagining how he was going to tell her that he was in fact the one that had charmed it.

the next day, she was out and about, gently cradling her hand which was broken.

"um, hey, y/n," he nervously approached her.

"oh, hello!"

"i might have jinxed the bludger to go wild," he confessed abruptly, "i'm really sorry i didn't mean to-"

"no, it's fine, really." she gave him a reassuring smile and walked off.

he noticed that she couldn't write in class. usually she was scribbling away, but she just sat awkwardly at her desk, trying frantically to get anything legible down with her non-dominant hand. the fact she was so courteous and forgiving about everything just made it worse.

by now, y/n was dying inside. she couldn't write notes, and even though she wanted to ask any willing person for a duplicate of their notes, she'd have to explain the whole broken hand thing.

"ange?"

"yep?"

"do you have history of magic notes?" y/n did puppy eyes.

"nope, you forgot i dropped out."

"oh."

"do you want mine?" fred asked, smirking as he looked y/n up and down.

"you take notes?!!!" y/n was shook.

"only for you, 'cause i felt bad."

"you didn't need to!"

"i did. you want them?"

"yes please, thank you so much, you're a lifesaver!!"

"you're acting like you're not the one the bludger hit," angie quipped and y/n frowned, completely forgetting fred was still there, browsing the notes.

"c'mon, it was just an accident. and i've always wanted to be ambidextrous."

"lovely, you were struggling. i'll take all your notes. my handwriting isn't neat but i owe you."

y/n ducked to hide the light blush she could not control at all.

immediately she got a confused look from fred.

and instantly she thought of something that might make the blush go away. he didn't mean it, it slipped out, she thought and she felt her face cooling down, a slight frown appearing on her face.

"o-okay, thanks fred."

"no problems, darling," he flirted.

"that's good, darling," she flirted graciously back, bravely tilting her head up and looking him in the eye.

he took it well.

"where did you learn how to flirt so well, my little love??"

"why, freddie," she joked flirtatiously, "from you of course!"

he coughed and excused himself.

"he should really be careful with who he's flirting mindlessly with," y/n rolled her eyes.

angelina laughed, "flirting mindlessly? do you see the way he looks at you?"

"personality," y/n stated simply.

"or not."

true to his word, notes in fred's flurry of handwriting appeared neatly stacked every day. they were far too thorough and consisted of stupid flirty notes by the side. sometimes a little note, written in class, was jammed in there probably by accident:

hello freddie!

i have a crush on you 0-o, hogsmeade at 7pm on sunday?

-jamie <3, boy who sits in front of you in arithmancy

jamie,

i already have my eye on someone :) not you, sorry, y/n cringed at the bluntness of his words

you are very nice, perhaps try trera rivera if you swing that way? or illinois ann if you swing all ways?

oh i'm so sorry, i didn't know that! i'll talk to both. was the gracious answer

-jamie

and again! the lucky boy! this time from a girl.

weasley-

i know we hate each other but give me a chance to explain myself? broom closet at 9 tomorrow ? it trailed off to something that y/n didn't even want to think about.

k.o

fuck off. i don't fucking like you, i like someone else, ffs.

was the reply as y/n laughed and made sure to give the note back to fred.

it wasn't everyday someone confessed to you, right?

she underlined all the words that simply weren't legible to ask fred about.

and aNOTHER ONE?? how did this boy have so many admirers? y/n had received 0 love letters from any boy, let alone people of the same gender. you knew you were good with the ladies (and the gentlemen) when everyone sent you these letters.

dearest frederick-

it droned quite sweetly on about him and loving him and the writing was really magnificent.

margaret perrer

hi marg

i'm really really sorry. you seem like such a nice person, and it's not you, it's me. i, however, have a friend who really adores you: kenneth. he'll be an amazing friend and maybe more.

i also already am interested in another girl, so it really isn't you. thank you for your beautiful letter, hopefully we can be friends!

fred

oh he was very nice. feeling like she had overstepped the boundaries, she put them aside, discovering more and more but putting them all in a stack. she felt slightly insecure, especially when they all looked relatively neW?? the perfume on the flowers still smelled fresh?? who was this guy?

she sighed, finishing her read through and being thoroughly impressed with the sheer quality of the notes.

but there were around 100 words she had underlined. she skipped down into the great hall where she spotted two gingers. as soon as one (she couldn't see which one) saw her, he got up, whispered to the other something, and left.

when she approached the one that was left behind, she saw it was george.

"hi georgie!" she greeted him and thrust the papers into his hand, "where's fred?"

george shrugs, "left, for a date or something."

"oh, okay, could you translate these for me, the underlined words?" if y/n was disappointed, she didn't show it.

"oh yeah, sure, his handwriting's rubbish, isn't it."

"yes it is, i can barely read half of it."

george finished scribbling words next to the underlined ones.

"oh! and give these back to him? i'm pretty sure he dropped them in, probably got mixed up." she gave him the pile of letters, now neatly bundled in rope she had found.

"oh, yeah sure," george smirked, "of course."

"nice, well that's it, thanks for the help!"

"anything else?"

"tell fred good luck."

"right, right, mhm."

"yea."

once she'd left, george took out his walkie talkie.

"got that, freddie?"

"crystal clear."

"you're pining, pffft, hahahahah," george smirked as fred sighed.

"it didn't even work?"

"which plan?"

"the one to drop the letters in."

"i'm pretty sure she read like two, she didn't seem that disappointed?"

"exactly."

"you're an idiot. just tell her."

"but that's boringggg."

"well drop the hints then, merlin fred you're terrible at this."

"i haven't dated a billion girls like you!"

"then learn how to date my goodness."

"true."

"come fucking back."

"hickies or no?"

"eh go for it. i wanna see her reaction and then we can decide whether she likes you or not."

fred strided handsomely in, neck littered with little hickies and his top had two buttons open, freckles and pale broad shoulders showing.

george rolled his eyes, muttering, "drama queen," as he subtlely watched y/n. she managed not to look so surprised, her eyes widening then looking down quickly at her hands.

he would have thought she felt nothing for his twin if a light pink had not dusted over her face and if angie had not nudged her with a concerned look on her face.

y/n was wondering what the hell happened, disappointment rising slowly in her.

"okay, she's into you," george whispered as fred began removing the spell, leaving the unbuttoned shirt unbuttoned.

"cool beans."

"oh and she gives these back," george smirked.

"oh look at how she bundled it! so adorable georgie!"

"you're disgusting."

y/n hurried to the library at 6pm. she had heard the book she had waited for was finally available.

as she settled down with it, a paper aeroplane hit her.

"ahh!" she screamed as she caught it.

it read:

forbidden forest, 8pm.

huh? was this meant for her? it was in neat handwriting and on the smoothest parchment, with a single flower that smelt like fresh rain.

323 notes · View notes

milkiane · 3 years ago

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SECRET SANTA; jj maybank

summary: with christmas coming up, y/n and jj struggles with not getting each other for secret santa — but breaking a few rules wouldn’t be that bad, would it?

warnings: none // gif credits to @obxhub

word count: 1437

“okay, so before we draw the results for secret santa, y’all have to remember — no swapping, no sharing, and definitely no-“

“pope! we know the rules, man, just get on with it.” jj rushed amusedly, wanting to know who he would get.

it was a tradition amongst the pogues that they will hold a secret santa every christmas so that they won’t struggle with getting everyone a gift, then after that, a feast at the wreck, and a sleepover at the chateau filled with crappy christmas movies and hot chocolate.

it’s your first time spending christmas with them. after your constant pleas to your parents, they reluctantly agreed to let you celebrate it with them.

you were practically on the edge of your seat as you waited for your turn to pick. you had both your fingers crossed behind your back as you wished to pick jj.

your relationship was still new and fresh, and you wouldn’t want to miss the opportunity to give him a christmas gift. especially after everything he’s done for you.

unbeknownst to you, jj was thinking the same thing. he was holding his breath as he picked a piece of paper. hoping and hoping to whoever was listening that he picked you.

after everyone emptied jj’s red cap, pope started to count down and everyone simultaneously opened their piece of paper.

you looked down at yours, JOHN B.

jj looked down at his, SARAH.

the both of you let disappointed sighs but smiled at everyone nevertheless.

“now, remember — no swapping, no telling, and no buying of any extras!”

bending the rules a little but wouldn’t hurt anyone, now, would it?

you made sure to make it to the chateau significantly earlier than jj. you gripped the piece of paper from yesterday as you entered john b’s living space and spotted sarah and kie talking by the couch.

“hey, girls…” you dragged out with a smile, sitting beside them. “we’re best friends, right?”

“yes…?” kiara eyed you suspiciously. “why?”

“so, who did you get for-”

“not jj,” sarah grinned, taking a bite out of her toast as she and kiara teased you. she chuckled at your flustered state. “i don’t get why you’re being shy about it, y’all are already dating.”

you placed your face in your hands and let out a groan. this was your first ever relationship, and you didn’t know what and what not to do. everything was all new for you. “no, actually, i- i don’t care, i was just curious, y’know? like…”

kiara scoffed amusedly, throwing her arms up. “that defeats the purpose of secret santa, y/n.”

you sighed in defeat, pouting in your place as you stole a jammed toast from sarah’s plate.

pope didn’t even get to touch the doorknob when you suddenly opened the door, surprising him as you grinned up at him.

“hey, pope,”

“no.”

you scowled at him, “you don’t even know what i’m going to say!”

“i don’t have jj, and even if i did, i won’t swap with you.” he pointed out, patting your head. “i know jj’s difficult to get gifts for but rules are rules, so, good luck!”

“it’s not that. it’s just… jj is-”

“i’m what?” the devil himself suddenly appeared, scaring pope yet again.

“y’all gotta stop doing that!” pope yelped, running a hand across his face before going in.

jj looked at you and shrugged, wrapping an arm around you before walking in with you.

you flopped down your bed with a heavy sigh, letting your gaze fall on the mini christmas tree at the corner of your room. it was already filled to the brim with gifts you bought for jj. you stared once more at the piece of paper and crumpled it, throwing it across the room, groaning when it bounced out of your trash bin.

you’d have thought luck would be at your side for this festive activity, hoping that you’d get jj. and if you didn't, which was your current case, someone could switch with you. you forgot how stubborn the pogues were.

you worked your ass off at the waffle cone, even going to the extent of taking shifts that weren’t even yours. you could remember the offended look on yourself when wanda forced you out of the shop and said, “for once in your life, stop working, and get a hobby, woman.”

christmas couldn’t have come any sooner because before you knew it, all of you were gathered in john b’s living room with your gifts for secret santa in your hands.

you managed to get john b a nice set of bandanas and button-up shirts from the mainland. it wasn’t really that hard to figure out what the guy wanted.

and it turns out pope was the one who got you. he bought you a vintage cd player and a cd filled with all of your favorite songs.

jj glared at pope but he only returned it with a cheeky grin. jj also tried to ask pope who got to pick you.

once it was over, everyone got up and piled in the twinkie for their annual dinner at the wreck, but before that, you grabbed jj’s hand and asked the rest of the pogues to go on without you.

“don’t take too long! you know how my mom gets.” kiara called out before shutting the door.

“-and make it quick! i wanna watch home alone.” pope demanded.

“hey, what’s up?” jj asked as he followed you towards your car. “do you not want to have dinner with the pogues? that’s fine with me, y’know, we could just-”

“no, no,” you shook your head, letting your hand hover over the back of your car. “i know we weren’t supposed to get each other gifts, but i couldn’t help myself.”

with a sheepish smile. you opened the door for jj to see the new surfboard you bought for him. it was in his favorite color, with waterproof stickers adorned all over, and with both of your initials carved on the top of the board.

when jj didn’t speak, you assumed the worst and panicked. “it’s too much, isn’t it? oh my gosh, i’m so sorry, i still have the receipt-”

“y/n, can i please shut you up with a kiss?”

“i-” you gulped, nodding at him before he leaned into a passionate kiss, letting his arms pull you in closer as you run your hands through his hair.

“it’s perfect, okay? more than perfect, wow.” jj breathed out, pecking your lips once more before letting his fingers glide over the smooth material of the board. “i don’t think i can beat this.”

“what do you mean?” you asked.

“what? you think you’re the only one who bought a gift?”

“you’re the best girlfriend anyone can ever ask for, d’you know that?” he opened his arms out to invite you in for a hug, and when you didn’t hesitate to step forward, he wrapped his arms around you. “you’re my best girl.”

he pulled away slightly, just enough to grab your gift from his pocket. it was a vintage heart-shaped locket he’s been saving up for months now.

“oh, jj, it’s gorgeous.” you stared at it in awe, jj’s smile reciprocating your soft one. “does it open?”

“as a matter of fact, it does.” he opened the locket with a faint click, featuring your favorite picture of the both of you.

“oh, god,” you rasped, looking up at the starry sky to prevent the tears from falling.

“do… do you like it?” jj asked hesitantly.

“jj, i love it.” you smiled at him in disbelief.

jj smiled in triumph before getting behind you, carefully moving your hair aside and planting a chaste kiss on the bare skin. he delicately fastened the locket around your neck and stepped back to admire the jewelry adorned on you.

his gaze slowly fell back into your eyes, feeling as if time was slowing down as the both of you stared at each other with the same sense of adoration and belonging.

there are no words to describe how much you feel about jj, so you just smiled sheepishly and said, “i got you more gifts, by the way…”

“y/n,” he whined, squishing your cheeks in his hands. “you spoil me too much, baby,”

“oh, i guess you don’t want the limited edition flavor of the all seasons ice cream then?” you asked innocently, intertwining your hand in his.

jj’s eyes widened, gripping onto your hand tighter as he dragged you towards the twinkie. “JOHN B!! Y/N BROUGHT ICE CREAM!!”

332 notes · View notes

whatifyoulivelikethat · 4 years ago

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ice lolly, m | ksj

pairing(s): seokjin x reader

summary: You (accidentally?) deep throat a popsicle in front of Min Yoongi. It's not what it looks like! Well, it kinda is, but you have a good reason! You just want to give your boyfriend, Kim Seokjin, a mind-blowing blowjob and you read some stuff online and, uh... okay, that still doesn't sound like a good reason, but I swear it is.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; established relationship; featuring seagull-BTS LOL; crack and fluff; smut (fem reader, m-receiving oral); ft Min Yoongi witnessing your, um, attempt XD; my tongue technology strikes again, maybe you'll learn something?

this is inspired by your hapless adventures, cat whiskers. you told me not to do it, but I'm a brat and I did it anyway LMAO get rekt

So.

You read this thing online.

What if you just...

"What are you doing?"

You started with a shriek, jamming the entire ice lolly right into the back of your throat, instantly choking and yanking it out of your mouth, only for it to be flung off the wooden stick and fly across the sidewalk, leaving a long, ice-blue streak of melting sugar syrup ending with a demolished hunk of discarded popsicle.

A seagull immediately appeared to peck at it.

You gawked, still clutching the wooden stick, Min Yoongi standing beside the bench you were sitting on.

"Why did you try to deep throat your popsicle?"

A second seagull arrived to peck at the icy hunk of sugar water.

Your mouth was still open, mechanically jerking to face him with fire-red cheeks, and it wasn’t because of the bright sunny weather. He looked very much like a disgruntled cat with his expression, black eyebrow raised, dark brown eyes narrowed, pink lips slightly pursed. Yoongi squinted disapprovingly from under his wide-brimmed straw hat. He wore a long-sleeved black shirt under a white t-shirt, breezy black trousers, and sandals.

Yoongi hated the sun.

A third seagull flapped down onto the boardwalk and joined the other two to poke at the rapidly melting mess on the ground.

"Um..."

He raised a hand dismissively, eyes flicking away from you. "On second thought, don't tell me. I don't want to know." Yoongi jammed his black clutch under his armpit and ripped open his own cold sweet treat, turning away from you to face the ocean.

A fourth seagull flocked over to peck one of them in the head and assist in devouring the ice pop.

"Hey, hyung, what flavor did you get?" a smooth baritone voice piped, appearing in an aqua-and-pink colorful shirt and brown shorts with snazzy sunglasses and tan skin.

You were staring at the four seagulls eating your ice lolly with glee, somewhat frozen yourself, feeling a mixture of jealous, mortified, and absolutely ready to chuck yourself into the ocean if Yoongi said anything to out you to Kim Taehyung right now.

"I don't know. I told them to pick one at random," the straw hat replied.

A fifth seagull appeared, slightly smaller than the rest, poking one in the neck and squawking before trying to prod at the puddle of blue syrup with a small chunk of ice in it.

"I got strawberry," Taehyung replied.

Two more seagulls swooped down, pushing the other five all around. All of them were now pecking at the ice-blue sugar syrup, honking and squawking. Like laughter. One of the seagulls had a weird cry, like a cloth rubbed onto wet glass.

Or a windshield wiper on a car window.

"Disgusting."

You narrowed your eyes at the seven seagulls.

We they... laughing at you?

"Strawberry-flavored things are the worst."

You jumped as someone sat down next to you, ripping open a paper package. He was wearing a short-sleeved pale pink dress shirt with a flashy tie and long blue shorts. A familiar someone dressed like this. He placed his backpack down next to you, smiling brilliantly. Full lips, sparkling brown eyes, milk chocolate-colored locks framing his handsome face.

Your boyfriend, Kim Seokjin.

"S-Seokjin!"

He grinned and leaned in, kissing you lightly. Then he became flustered and laughed awkwardly, a little squeaky, almost like a windshield wiper on a car window.

"Hah, sorry, you looked really cute just now."

You blinked rapidly.

Do you tell your boyfriend that you tried to deep throat your ice lolly in attempt to see if you could extend your tongue around the bottom because you read on a certain-website-not-to-be-named that it might be possible to suck dick and lick balls at the same time and you were determined to learn so you could perform said act?

And do you tell Seokjin that Min Yoongi caught you in the middle of it?

Er…

Seokjin cheerfully licked at his lemon ice pop, oblivious to your inner struggle.

"Where's yours? I thought you got one too?"

The seven seagulls cackled. You glared at them, ready to fight.

"Hyung."

Never mind, you paled to the color of rice paper as the deep voice with a little rasp to it appeared beside Seokjin, straw hat and all. You wished you could merge with your pastel floral summer dress and float off with the sea breeze, straight into the ocean after seeing the deadpan expression of Min Yoongi holding a mint green popsicle.

He looked bored, but his eyes were mocking you.

Asshole.

"She dropped it by accident."

"Ah, really?" Seokjin frowned, nudging you with his hand. "Here, have some of mine. I'll share with you." He wrapped his arm around you and patted your shoulder fondly, holding his ice lolly out to you. You felt your heart skip a little at his kindness and closeness.

Yoongi smirked behind Seokjin's head.

You narrowed your eyes at him.

The seven seagulls flapped off, flying above five guys standing near you three, eating icy sweet treats together on the boardwalk this sunny day, enjoying this nice retreat to the sea. A lone seagull popped out from behind a trashcan, trotting over, eyeing the wet spot of sugar syrup soaked into asphalt.

It slunk away in a back corner, dejected that there was nothing left.

"Come on, hurry before it melts."

You nibbled off a chunk. Mmm. Cold, lemony, and delicious. You smiled at Seokjin gratefully and he smiled back, warm and inviting, his cheeks puffing a little like the edges of raised bread. A little sheepish at the public display of affection, but unable to help it when he was with you.

"You might as well stick the whole thing in your mouth," Yoongi said off-handedly, walking away to the group of five guys, leaving you choking on the bench again as Seokjin rubbed your back soothingly, worriedly asking you what was wrong.

"YOU TRIED TO DEEP THROAT A POPSICLE?"

"Seokjinnie–"

"IN FRONT OF YOONGI?"

"Erm, it's not what it sounds like–"

"YOONGI???????"

“I swear it’s not what It sounds like!”

Seokjin yanked the towel off his head, half-dried brown hair sticking up every which way, gawping at you with a slack jaw and shocked brown eyes. He was wearing his emerald green silk pajamas, fresh after a nice shower from the hot day. You too, wore a set of pajamas, a matching outfit with Seokjin.

“It’s not what it sounds like?” he sputtered, flabbergasted, partly flabbered but mostly aghast.

You opened your mouth and closed it. Then you opened it again.

“Okay, it is what it sounds like, but–!”

Why did you bring this up now? Well, your boyfriend was asking you if you wanted to take some medicine and sleep early because you said you weren’t feeling well at dinner. He was a sweet bean and wanted the best for you, and the truth came out in mid-discussion. Seokjin and you had left earlier than everyone else, declining the scenic walk home, mostly because you could no longer stand Yoongi making snide remarks that meant nothing to anyone else except you.

“You might need a bit more force to suck up that thick milkshake. Or wait for it to melt.”

“That’s a pretty big piece of steak. Maybe you should cut it a bit smaller, so you don’t choke.”

“You sure you don’t want to stay for dessert? We could stop by the store and get you an ice lolly on our way home.”

You glared at him all evening.

Yoongi just smirked when Seokjin wasn’t looking.

Asshole.

“Why would you do that in public?” Seokjin was saying, yanking you back to reality and out of your daydreams of socking that smug little shit in the face. “Why would you do that at all?”

“G-Gah, it… it just… just occurred to me…”

“It occurred to you to suck an ice lolly like a dick?”

Seokjin looked as if he was going to pass out and divorce you at the same time and you weren’t even married yet.

“Why, because you’re going to suck frozen dick at some point in your life? Because my dick isn’t ever at subzero temperatures, so unless you’re sucking Mr. Freeze or Subzero’s dick–”

You waved your arms in a panicky manner, flapping your sleeves like a fucking seagull. “No, no, no, I read something online–”

“Oh, you read something online!” he exclaimed, wiggling in place, and now it sure as hell sounded like Kim Seokjin was mocking you while also being disappointed in you and if that wasn’t the most big dad energy you weren’t sure what was. “Yes, because that totally means you should perform fellatio on an ice pop in front of Yoongi of all fucking people! Are you trying to get bronchitis or something–”

“I admit it was a mistake!”

“A miss-take! It was a terrible take! Cut! Refilm! Actually, no, because maybe don’t try to give a blowjob to a fucking popsicle at the boardwalk in broad daylight!”

You smacked Seokjin in the chest and he looked highly offended, finally shutting up for one goddamn second so you could (poorly) explain your logic behind the incident.

“Look, Yoongi was not supposed to be there. At all. I got mine first and you all were deciding and arguing, so I decided to sit down and eat it, but then I noticed it was a specific length–”

Seokjin’s eyebrows rose so high they nearly left his face.

You prodded him in the pecs and he winced, pouting at you.

“So, I tried to put it in my mouth, but then Yoongi showed up and fucking spooked me and I jabbed myself in the throat because I was surprised and ended up rocket-launching my ice lolly across the sidewalk and then these fucking seagulls showed up, those bastards–”

“None of this explains why you tried to do it in the first place.”

“Uh…”

Your eyes shifted awkwardly.

Seokjin impatiently tapped his naked wrist that had no watch on it.

“I read it… in an online smut story I was reading…”

You perfectly handsome boyfriend might actually get a wrinkle if he continued to raise his eyebrows to the fucking moon. “You do what?”

You poked your index fingers together, biting your lip. “Because… I’m not very good at it… so I was thinking maybe I could learn some tips or something…”

“What?”

Now his voice was soft, immediately dropping the act and his anger. You saw him reach out and place his hand over yours, wrapping his fingers around tightly, tugging. You looked up and he tilted his head, brow knitted in worry.

“Hey,” Seokjin frowned, full lower lip sticking out. “What do you mean, you’re not good at it? You are. I like everything you do.”

You chewed on your lip anxiously. “But… but…” It was a stupid thought and, honestly, not that big of a deal, but it had been eating away at you for a while, so you just winced and let it out.

“You never finish with my mouth.”

Rapid blinking was his response. His eyebrows disappeared under his brown hair again.

“And it bothers me. You always finish with your hand into my mouth, but I can’t seem to do it by myself.”

Seokjin’s lips parted, looking apologetic. “Why didn’t you say anything sooner?”

You wrung your hands, loosening his grip on you. “I don’t know, it seems weird to say in the moment and it’s embarrassing… I thought maybe I wasn’t good enough…”

“No, no,” he said gently, holding your shoulders and shaking his head. “I...” His ears turned bright red and he swallowed. “I just like… seeing it shoot out into your mouth.” He coughed awkwardly, squeezing your shoulders. “It’s, er, nice, watching my cum drip onto your tongue and lips…” Seokjin cleared his throat and smiled, cheeks puffing out, looking a bit like the sides of freshly baked bread. “I didn’t realize my selfishness was making you feel inadequate. That’s not it at all. I only wanted to make it easier on you, and, cough, it’s kind of hot…”

“O… oh.”

He patted your shoulder fondly. “It’s only a misunderstanding. We can do whatever you want next time, okay? I’m sorry I made you feel that way. I will do better.”

You nodded and smiled, feeling much more relieved about the whole thing. Seokjin always had the ability to help you let things go, and it always made you feel a little lighter. It was part of the past now and you wouldn’t be bothered if Yoongi teased you any longer, because you had the best boyfriend in the whole world. There was no need to feel embarrassed.

You wrapped your arms around Seokjin and gave him a big, fierce hug.

Only to be impaled in the lower stomach.

“Ow!”

“Ack!”

You jerked back, whipping your head down.

“No, no, no, stop! Stop looking!”

“Why are you hard?!”

Seokjin waved his arms and abruptly flapped his hands down on his massive tent. “We were talking about blowjobs! And you! What do you think is going to happen?” he spluttered, the red creeping from his ears to his cheeks now, matching the exact shades used on merchandise during Christmas time with emerald green pajamas and a red face.

You gawked at him and he gawked back.

Wait.

“This is a perfect chance!”

“No, no, no, it is not, cease and desist, woman! Everyone is coming back soo–Gah!”

There was flurry of movement and Seokjin’s pajama pants were flung off, along with his shirt, and you were pushing him down onto the bed, him panicking the entire time, but he couldn’t have been that mad about it, because he was helping you by backing up, yelping as you hooked your fingers over the waistband of his underwear and yanked down, freeing his erection that nearly slapped you in the face.

“You trying to take out my eyeball?” you teased, grinning.

“You assaulting me and you’re upset that I’m fighting back?” Seokjin retorted, trying to hide his smile and be serious, but he was terrible at that and so were you, both of you grinning like a pair of idiots.

Well, you were certainly a little bit of an idiot for trying to deep throat a – you’re right, we’ll let it go (for now).

“I learned some things,” you said excitedly, forcing his legs open abruptly and making him squeak.

“Things? Ack!”

You leaned down and lifted his hard length up delicately, licking a fat stripe from base to tip, sighing softly as you came into contact with the velvety skin and his clean scent, Seokjin gasping above you, but suddenly this was not about him, this was about the cock in front of you and all the information you had complied to this point, ready to apply your learning. You wrapped your lips around the head, swiping your tongue on the underside, and Seokjin groaned, hips twitching but you grabbed them and pressed them firmly to the bed, shooting him a glare.

“Don’t interrupt me,” you growled around his dick.

He gave you a helpless frown. “Hello, I’m still attached to this di–”

You stared at him and slid your tongue out from your lips, swirling it around his girth, pressing the sensitive tip around the contours of your mouth, his eyes widening as he witnessed spit dripping from the wet muscle.

“O… oh…”

You let your eyes drift over his form, slowly, slowly, savoring the lines of his body, broad shoulders, shapely collarbones, the curve downwards to his trim waist, all the while taking him your mouth, tongue and lips soft and mouth tight, breathing deeply, eyes flickering up to his face and his expanding pupils, watching you with awe.

“Holy shit… and you’re not even naked… o-oh, fuck…”

You cocked an eyebrow, probably looking much more confident than you actually felt, but that didn’t matter. Fake it till you make it, right? And besides, every protagonist in every story has a moment of letting go and having courage and this was your moment, inorganic or not, flexing your tongue against Seokjin’s ever stiffening length, his breathing turning into wispy moans, watching you poised over him with his dick in your mouth, still wearing the silk pajamas and yet.

He watched you with amazement, love and lust in his brown orbs.

“You’re the most beautiful woman in the world.”

Your ears burned hot and you tried not to choke on his dick in embarrassment.

Don’t ruin the moment!

Somehow you managed not to freak out and pressed your lips to the base of his cock, hitting his crotch, the uncomfortable feeling of too full expanding your throat, the head practically plugging your airway, but one glance at Seokjin and the suffocation was worth it, seeing him tip his head back, messy brown hair sliding past his forehead, groaning your name with his eyes closed.

You pulled back a little, took a breath, and went back down for the kill.

“What the fuck…?”

Lower lip opening, tongue stretching out, only able to move the tip a bit at the top of his balls. Hm. This wasn’t working. You adjusted and cupped a hand under them, lifting the two soft mounds and pressing them to your chin, your tongue swiping out over them, his dick bending a little in your mouth (more flexible and a lot warmer than an ice lolly, by the way), and Seokjin was losing it above you, shuddering and whining, a mix of curses and your name as you turned your head to get a different angle, the tip of his cock pushed to one side of your throat, determined to see what was most comfortable and got you the best reaction, saliva coating his balls and causing them to become more slippery. You furrowed your brows and gripped his balls tighter, smearing the slick liquid over the soft skin and Seokjin moaned obscenely loudly, falling onto the bed, back arching.

“Oooh, fuck, fuck, fuck…”

Abruptly, your throat spasmed, reminding you that needed to breathe, and you pulled back, coughing and panting slightly.

“Does that feel good?” you wheezed. Not the sexiest. You grimaced and cleared your throat, asking again. “Did that feel good for you?”

Seokjin tipped his head up, brown eyes glazed over, breathing hard. “Ah… It feels nice, but I don’t think I could finish with that…” Your frown deepened, but he shook his head, sending his brown hair floating everywhere. “It’s not tight enough. But it’s an insane turn on, so I think I could cum faster after…” He coughed, cheeks flushing. “After feeling and seeing it, you know?”

Your frown erased and you nodded, gently rubbing his soaked balls, seeing him shiver and his breathing shallow. “I think I understand, yeah.”

“Can… ah, can you finish me, p-please, ack, you k-keep – fuuuuuuuck…”

You went down again, but this time your focus was on the tightness of your mouth, tongue sliding from side to side, bobbing your head in a smooth, swift motion, keeping your lips soft, eyes closing as you felt his cock twitch inside your mouth, completely focused on the sensation of Seokjin in between your lips, breathing him in, the soft scent of fresh soap and his sweetness, trying to remember if there was anything you had forgotten.

Ah, yes!

You tipped your head back slightly and Seokjin cried out, heady and erotic, as the head of his cock dragged along the roof of your mouth before burying into your throat, over and over, hot saliva and a squirming tongue amplifying the sensation, realizing you needed to relax your throat but clench your mouth muscles while relaxing your lips and doing all this while keeping track of where his cock was going in your mouth so you didn’t accidentally choke on his dick.

A whole new level of multitasking.

Was the writer of that erotica you were reading some kind of sex god, because what the fuck–

But it didn’t matter, because even if it was sloppy and you couldn’t focus on all these things simultaneously, Seokjin was feeling only pleasure, fingers curling in the sheets, barely able to choke out his words through his moans.

“F-Faster, please…”

Faster? You could barely keep up as it was!

“Please…” he whined and you obeyed immediately, faster it was, because you were weak for him, weak for Kim Seokjin and his pleading face, pupils so blown out he seemed intoxicated, drunk on pleasure, and that made you aroused too, seeing your effect of him, tightening ever more and increasing the pace, the wet smacking sounds quickening, echoing in the bedroom with his lustful groans of your name, so sweet and loving that if you weren’t going to pass out from how fast you were going, you were surely going to pass out from the overwhelming adoration in his eyes. It made you push for a little bit more, push your limits a little harder, made you feel like you could do this.

For him.

“Oh, fuck, I’m gonna cum, fuck!”

Seokjin gripped the sheets tight and threw his head back, chest expanding with a low moan, thrusting his hips up and cock jolting, shooting thick streams into your throat, and your eyes widened, forced to stop, feeling his cum pool, creamy and viscous, tasting the delicious saltiness at the base of your tongue, your eyelids fluttering a little at the feeling of the tip rutting against the roof of your mouth and more dribbling out, coating the inside of your mouth.

Oh.

Oooh, fuck, it felt good.

You swallowed, feeling victorious and insanely horny, tongue circling round and round his flinching stiffness, able to sense the pulse and his shudders, descending again because you couldn’t get enough, so good, the feeling of him still in your mouth, him shivering at your persistent licks and light sucks, stroking his hips and moaning at the skin to skin.

The front door banged open downstairs and there was a lot of laughing and shouting.

Your eyes snapped open and Seokjin looked back at you in sheer panic.

The footsteps up the stairs proved they were being taken two at a time.

“Shit.”

Never had Seokjin yanked his cock so fast out of your lips (sad) and snatched his underwear and pajamas, bolting to the bathroom and throwing himself in there in record time the literal second the bedroom door was yanked open by rambunctious strength and a grin whose front teeth were ever-so-slightly too large for his face.

“Hyung, noona!”

You were laying with your head in your hand and your elbow on the bed, which was probably too sexual and weird for Jeon Jungkook, but that was all you got that this moment. He gave you a slightly disturbed and confused look under his big black bucket hat.

“Where’s hyung?”

You coughed and lowered your hand, trying to get in a less awkward position. “B-bathroom…” you rasped. Oh no. Did you go too hard? You sounded a bit like the crypt keeper. Fortunately, you didn’t look like one, so there was that. You rubbed your throat, wincing at the soreness. You definitely went a bit rough. You weren’t no young spring chicken anymore. You were going to feel that in the morning.

Sacrifices had to be made.

Jungkook pouted, bounding up to you and tilting his head. He was a moving black fabric mountain with his long-sleeved shirt and billowy shorts. “Are you really sick, noona? Do you want hot tea or some milk?”

Oh my God, Jungkook, I just sucked some dick and that’s why I sound dead.

Don’t say that.

“I… I’ll be fine, Jungkook. Did you have a nice walk?”

“Oh, yeah! There were fireworks! I think the city was celebrating something, and it was so colorful and pretty…”

You sat there and nodded, trying to listen intently while trying not to think about how Seokjin was in the bathroom rinsing off his saliva and cum-covered dick literal meters from you and oblivious Jungkook.

You saw movement behind Jungkook’s excitedly bouncing head. No straw hat, just black hair flattened against his forehead, covering his cat-like, dark brown eyes.

Yoongi.

He smirked, holding up a box.

Frozen ice lollys, the fizzy soda flavor that was light blue.

A muscle in your eye twitched.

Asshole.

masterpost

#seokjin x reader #seokjin smut #bts smut #seokjin x you #jin x reader #jin x you #kim seokjin x you #kim seokjin x reader

465 notes · View notes

xmint-conditionx · 4 years ago

Text

tongue tied | myg

pairing: yoongi x reader, f2l

w/c: 3.5k

summary: you've been best friends with yoongi for almost a decade, and you're hopelessly in love with him. he's the most important person in your life, and you don't want to mess that up, so you can never be anything more... right?

written as a response to a request from the old blog -- the requestor was @yoongi--enthusiast; thanks again for your request, i loved doing it!!! "I had an idea... something based off of the song “tongue tied” with yoongi. I feel like it would be super soft with soft smut... I just think it would be nice to read so can you please wright it 🥺👉👈"

tags/cw: 18+ please, smut, outdoor sex, overall a little angsty but super cute too

a/n: i did not know that there was a song called tongue tied by marshmello before i wrote this so... i hope the person who requested this didn’t mean that song because I wrote this drabble over the grouplove song lmaooo but anyway, here goes! thanks luv, enjoy! also reposted from the old blog!!

Yoongi’s laugh is so beautiful. It’s rare, so when you see it, you soak up everything you can about it. The way his eyes crinkle up into crescent moons, the way his lips curl back putting his gummy smile on bright display. You can swear you see his eyes sparkle.

You are in love with him. You are in love with your best friend.

He makes loving him such an easy thing to do; bringing you into his inner world, showing you the sweet and warm center he conceals from everyone else. The way he looks at you, the way he says your name, the way he pouts when he wants a back scratch, all of those little things that make him who he is only deepen your infatuation with him.

You’re with him again this Friday night, making the drive to Bom’s house. It’s been a long week for the both of you; he’s been wrapped up in producing a track and you’ve been nose deep in college textbooks. His track is completed, and your exams are over. It’s safe to say that you both could use a good break.

It’s the end of the spring semester and the weather is going to be gorgeous tonight. The racing summer breeze coming through the open car windows is exhilarating. The sun is setting, and the warm evening light on Yoongi’s dewy skin makes him appear absolutely radiant as he navigates the highway.

You’re just listening to fun little summer jams as you speed off toward the city’s suburbs. Ones with funky little basslines that are easy to groove and sing along to. Ones that make you shout and laugh into the rushing wind. Ones that make you drink in the moment you’re having with Yoongi; ones that make you soak up all of his joy.

And when he steals a sly look your way, one hand still on the top of the steering wheel, you can swear your heart stops.

You’ve loved him as long as you can remember really knowing him. Since you were both 12, bonding over games of tag and basketball and the spilling of secrets to each other. You’d sit beneath the big tree in his backyard and share the snacks you’d bought at the corner store. He’d always let you have the last chocolate.

The only secret you’ve ever kept from Yoongi is the matter of your infatuation, and you are pretty resolute in keeping it that way.

He is the single most important person in your life. He had been there with you through it all; when your parents split up at 13, when your dad got you your first car at 15, when your long time boyfriend cheated on you at 16, when your dream college denied you at 17, when you got a full ride scholarship to a smaller university outside of the city right after that, when you were drugged at a house party at 20, when you were diagnosed with depression at 21, and when you were accepted into your masters program at 22.

You needed him, and because of that, you could never tell him.

You pull into the gates that surround Bom’s neighborhood. Her parents are pretty wealthy, so they live on a golf course. As you pull up into the driveway, you see some other students milling about, catching Frisbee. There’s Eunha, Ireum, Ji-Ah, and Miyeun that you recognize from some of your classes, but there are a few more that you’ve never met.

After a few rounds of drinks and a few lost games of flip cup, you all head outside to the back patio with all of your schoolwork from the year. Bom turns on the bluetooth speaker and sets it on the railing. You take in the night air and gaze up at the sky, wishing there was a shooting star to wish upon.

“Alright, everyone,” Bom begins, “essays and lab reports first, then tests, then miscellaneous homework.” Yoongi helps you dig through your stack to fish out the cursed papers. You all toss the stapled packages into the fire pit, one by one, each hitting with a soft thud. Once everyone has thrown their woes into the pit, Bom tops it with actual firewood and unceremoniously sets the whole lot of it on fire. You gaze into the center of the flame, watching your entire year catch fire. All the hours you spent doing that research project, all the disappointment when your group members wouldn’t follow through. Gone, like it never existed.

Yoongi’s holding your hand in his, and he’s busy drawing little circles with his thumb on your palm. Your head rests soundly on his shoulder, and you sigh into him, comfortable in where you are. The whole group piles in more papers, as you lament about the shitty professors and the shitty group projects and the shitty caf’ food and the shitty grades. Yoongi turns into you and nuzzles gently on your forehead. You feel his soft lips graze your temple, breath warm on your skin, tingles rising through your body, and you’re right where you want to be. Under the moon’s gaze with the person you love.

Before long, the breeze sends a chill through you that even the fire won’t remedy. Yoongi feels your shiver and unceremoniously removes his hoodie and puts it on over you, pulling up the hood and kissing your forehead. You always love when you wear his jackets; they surround you in his warmth, his smell. A smile plays across your lips until you notice Yoongi’s goosebumps.

“Hey,” you pout, “I don't wanna wear this if you’re gonna be cold.”

“I don’t wanna wear it if you’re gonna be cold,” he snaps back, smiling.

“Here,” you say, standing up from your deck chair. You take the step to get you to Yoongi’s chair, and sit in his lap. “This way we can both be warm, yeah?”

It takes him a second, but he wraps his arms firmly around you again, mumbling a “yeah, that’s fine” when you glance at him over your shoulder.

Your attention is called back to the group with Bom asks if you’re going to the Summer Romance Festival by the river next weekend. She’s been pushing you to get yourself out there more. The last time you were in a real relationship was high school, after all.

“I’d love to go; I hear they have the most beautiful fireworks display,” you start, “but I don’t think I will this year.”

“Well,” Bom says, “Why not?!”

“Because I don’t have a date, Bom!” you say, covering your face in the sweater paws you’ve made from Yoongi’s hoodie. “I don’t think I could find one in enough time.”

“Ya, just get Yoongi to go with you! You already do everything together anyway,” Eunha quips.

You notice that the steady rise and fall of Yoongi’s chest has stopped.

“Hey, you know we’re just friends, right Yoongi?” you look to him for backup.

The man nods, looking down and to the left.

“Okay,” Ireum speaks up, “In that case, do you want to go with me?”

“Wait, what?” you say.

“Do you want to go to the Summer Romance Festival with me? As a date?”

Yoongi tenses beneath you.

“Oh, I don’t know…” you breathe, “Are you sure?”

“One hundred percent. We can even get dinner before we go. Not too much, though. I’ll want to get us a treat from one of the dessert stalls.” Ireum says with a soft smile.

“Yeah,” you say, smiling back at him, “Okay. We’ll go together.”

Yoongi stirs beneath you. “Hey, can you get off of me?”

“What, why?” you pout.

“I said get off.”

“Yoongi, wh--”

He doesn’t wait for you to finish before he abruptly stands up, forcing you to catch yourself. When you look back at him, he’s walking toward the French doors that lead back into the house.

“Ya! What was that about?”

He keeps walking. You storm after him and slam the door, trapping you both inside.

“Yoongi, I’m talking to you! What’s your fucking problem?”

He whirs around.

“Oh, I have a problem?”

“Well, it sure seems like it.” you spit back, hands on your hips.

“Why don’t you go talk about it with your date, huh?” he says, gesturing out the window to Ireum. “Don’t you have some details to work out? He gonna pick you up? You gonna let him hold your hand? On your nice little extra special romantic date? I guess I’ll just fuck right off and leave you two alone, yeah? That’s what you want, cause we’re just friends and all.”

“Yoongi, we… are friends! You’re my best friend!”

“Did you ever for a second think that I could want more?”

“What?!”

“I fucking love you, Y/N! Isn’t it obvious?! I’ve loved you since the 7th grade. You remember when we played spin the bottle at Ha-joon’s house? Do you remember when you kissed me?”

“Yoongi…”

“No, let me finish. Do you remember the frat party we crashed junior year? Remember when we got up onto the roof and made out until we fell asleep? And then you weren't there when I woke up so I walked back to my dorm and then we just pretended it never happened? What the fuck was that, Y/N?!”

You reach for his arm, but he backs up, flinching away from you.

“I am so in love with you it hurts!”

“Yoongi.”

“But I guess if that guy can make you happy, then whatever,” he sighs.

“Yoongi.”

“Go on your little date and have fun and I’ll just go write some more goddamn songs about you--”

“Yoongi!”

He stills, pain flashing through his eyes.

“Yoongi,” you say quietly, easing toward him, “I had no idea. I left the roof to go inside and get you some water. When I came back, you were gone. You had been drinking a lot that night… and I felt really bad because… I thought I had taken advantage of you… Ever since I first kissed you at Ha-joon’s house, I wanted to do it again. And again. And, you looked so good that night and up on the roof when you were laughing about the quarterback I just… I couldn't hold myself back anymore. I thought surely you didn’t want to actually be kissing me.”

“Why the fuck would I have kissed you back, then?”

“You were drunk, and I--” you’re cut off when he grabs your wrist.“I have wanted to kiss you every time I’ve seen you since you first kissed me,” he says, glancing down at your lips. ”I want to kiss you right now.”

You take no time in closing the distance between the two of you, your lips crashing desperately. You’ve tasted his kiss before, but this time feels different. His hands are winding through your hair, pulling you deeper into his kiss. You moan against his mouth, and he responds with his tongue teasing your lips, asking for entry. You grant it, and he explores. One of his hands holds your jaw, the other still intertwined with your hair. His tongue runs along your bottom lip before he sucks it in, drawing out a small whimper from you. Taking his hand from your jaw, he runs it down your neck and décolleté and then down over your stomach and latches it on your hip, sinking his fingers into your skin. He gives your hair a small tug, just enough to break the kiss and expose your neck. He breaks off and trails kisses up your jawline and then onto your neck, speaking in between kisses.

“You have… no idea how… much I’ve… wanted to tell… you everything,” he breathes onto your neck, and you feel a heat pooling in your panties.

“Please, Yoongi…” you say as you begin to run one hand under his shirt. He stops kissing and looks up at you with the softest expression.

“What is it?” he asks as he grabs both of your hands in his, bringing one of them up to his mouth to sprinkle kisses along your fingers.

“You…” you begin and sigh, “you have no idea how much I want you.”

He stills.

“Are you sure? We don’t have to, I’m sorry, I just…” he trails off, eyes getting lost in the way his jacket is draped on your figure.

Him eyeing you up doesn’t make it any better.

“I’ve wanted you for so long,” you say, eyes pleading up at him. “I’m tired of waiting.”

After a beat, he sighs.

“Neither of us are waiting another minute,” he says, landing a quick peck on your lips and going across the room to the couch, grabbing the throw blanket that rests on the arm.

“Come on, I have an idea,” he says, grabbing your arm and leading you out of the front door, across the street, through someone’s back yard until you reach the top of a hill on the side of a fairway. You watch as he scans the area, holding the blanket tight. His gaze lingers on two hills near the green of whatever hole this is, where there are a few more trees and hills to block you from the sightline of those second story windows. He looks at you, eyes asking the question. You smile and nod, and that’s all he needs.

He tugs your hand and you both go running down the fairway, laughing along the way. Once you reach your spot, he quickly puts down the blanket and lays on it. You’re still standing at his feet, hands fiddling with the ends of the jacket sleeves.

He smiles up at you and holds his arms up in your direction and says, “come here, beautiful,” while doing little grabby hands.

You slowly walk up to where he’s laying and sit on top of his hips, feeling how hard he already is. His hand rests on your hip underneath the fabric of his jacket, the other holding the side of your face.

“Let me see you,” he says with a tinge of whine in his voice, and that gives you an idea.

You reach under the still zipped jacket and fiddle around. Yoongi looks up at you befuddled, the corners of his lips turning down slightly as he tries to figure out what’s going on. When your hands emerge, one is holding your strapless bra and the other is holding the halter top you had been wearing. You can’t believe you managed to unzip the back by yourself.

You throw the garments to the side, and watch as understanding hits his face. His eyes glaze over and he licks his lips, clearly shaken up by your little trick.

He carefully dips his fingers below the waistband of your shorts and eases them down. You put your weight on him and give him a few kisses as he continues to move them down your legs. Once they too have been tossed to the side, you sit back up, lips red and swollen from the kiss.

He gently reaches up to the zipper of the jacket and begins to slowly pull it down, letting the cool night air in. You feel your nipples harden at the exposure to both the night air and Yoongi’s hungry eyes. He swallows and licks his lips as he runs his eyes over every new inch of you that is revealed. Memorizing your form, your perked nipples, the way your chest rises with each anxious breath.

He reaches back up to the collar and eases one shoulder of fabric off. You move to take the rest off despite the cold, but he stills your hand with his.

“Keep it on, please. I love seeing you wear my clothes,” Yoongi says, intertwining his fingers with yours.

You bring his hand up to your lips, pressing them against his knuckles as you slowly grind your still covered core on his length. He groans in frustration, his pants getting tighter. You let go of his hand and run your fingers up beneath his white cotton v-neck, his ab muscles flinching under your touch. You help him remove his shirt, taking in the way his pale skin shines under the moonlight.

Seeing you look at him makes his cock twitch in his pants, and you think it’s time to provide him some relief.

You scoot back and start to undo his belt, getting low and staring up at him through your lashes. His breath hitches when you make eye contact with him, and then it starts to pick up as you undo the button and zipper. You shimmy down the denim, but leave his black boxer-briefs where they are.

You come back up to the waistband after releasing his jeans, and you take the elastic in between your teeth. You tug them down with your teeth while your hands pull them on the sides. His erection springs free, and he sucks in a fast breath when his cock meets the cool air. You take the opportunity to let your warm breath ghost over his throbbing cock, coaxing a deep groan from Yoongi. He puts his hand to your cheek, and you look up to meet his gaze.

“I don’t think I can last if you put me in your mouth, baby girl. We can do head next time,” Yoongi says, and your heart soars at the pet name. You ease back up so that you’re straddling him once more, and reflexively start to grind on him again.

“Please let me take care of you. Look how wet you are,” he says, running his fingers over your clothed slit, dipping one finger in to collect a bit of slick. He tastes his finger and says. “Yeah, we’re definitely going to need to do head next time.”

You blush at the thought of him buried between your thighs, vulgarly slurping up everything you have to give him. You clench just thinking about it, and Yoongi notices. He pulls your panties to the side, takes the head of his cock and presses it to your clit, teasing your entrance. His precum mixes with your wetness, and you can’t resist him any more. You’ve resisted him for years, and you’re done.

You slowly ease yourself down on his cock, only making it halfway down before you have to wait for you to adjust. You both look at each other; Yoongi’s jaw is set and his eyebrows are furrowed together. Your mouth drops open as you raise and lower yourself again, feeling the delicious stretch that accompanies it. You bottom out and begin setting a slow and gentle pace.

Your body is rolling steadily, moonlight creating beautiful shadows on your body as you take him in over and over. As many times as you’ve dreamed of this, you still didn’t fathom it being this good or it feeling this right.

Yoongi is everything you had imagined he would be and then some. The way he is looking up at you, the way his soft little moans escape every time you bottom out, the way his eyebrows furrow together at the sight of your dripping heat enveloping him. Perfection.

He takes his hands and trails them up the curve of your waist, stopping just below your breasts. He runs his thumbs over your nipples, making you shudder and arch your back, pushing your chest into his hands. He palms them, kneading little circles around your areolas.

You lean forward, putting your weight on him again, and he meets you eagerly with another kiss. He wraps his arms around your back, keeping himself under the jacket, and you pick up the rhythm. Yoongi scratches his nails all the way down your back. Once he gets to your ass, he cups it, squeezing gently. You place your forehead against his, and your eyes meet.

“Y/N,” he whispers, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, “you look so beautiful on top of me like this. Please let me see this sight for the rest of my life.” You whimper at the praise, and pick up the pace.

“Please,” he continues, small grunts mixing in with his words, “Don’t wake up tomorrow and pretend like this never happened. Please... don’t break my heart,” he pleads.

“Not a chance, Yoon. I can never let you go. You’re everything to me. You’ve always been.”

“Baby, I am so close. Can I--”

“Come with me, Yoongi. Let’s do it together,” you say. Yoongi’s hands are on your hips and he’s thrusting up into you with an unrelenting pace. At this angle, you can feel his head graze against your cervix with each thrust, sending white spots in your vision.

You both reach your end at the same time, breaths mingling as you come down from your highs. You lay your head on his chest and listen to his heartbeat gradually slow. He presses a soft, lingering kiss to the top of your head and sighs into your hair.

“So…” he begins, “do you wanna go to the festival with me?” Yoongi asks.

“Are you gonna pick me up? Let me hold your hand? Have a nice little special romantic date?” you fire back, trying your best to sound like him. You sit up on your arm, letting your hair hang over to one side, and watch the light dance in his eyes as he laughs.

“Yeah,” he laughs, “I might even get us a little snack from one of the desert vendors.”

#bts smut #bts smut reactions #bts smut one shot #bts fanfiction #yoongi smut #yoongi x reader #min yoongi #yoongi x you #yoongi smut one shot #soft!yoongi #yoongi--enthusiast #send me requests

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mandoalorian · 4 years ago

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Happiness [Maxwell Lorenzano x f!Reader]

Author’s note: Please heed warnings before you read. This is angst. There’s a little fluff and a few spicy moments, but at its core, this is a pretty angsty read. It’s a different interpretation of Maxwell, post WW84. Reblogs are so appreciated. I worked really hard on this and it’s not showing up in tags so if you could reblog it... it would literally mean the world to me :( <3

Summary: After the dreamstone debacle, Maxwell Lord loses custody of his son, his home, his job and all his wealth. He has nothing, and what was once the simple task of ‘living’, is suddenly proving to be extremely difficult. Until a beacon of light enters his life. He can only hope that you don’t find out who he really is.

Word count: 4000+

Rating: 18+

Warnings: depression/suicidal thoughts, PSTD/trauma implications, poverty, starvation, binge eating, allusions to sex, male masturbation, food and drink mention.

Masterlist

Max is usually pretty good at keeping himself to himself, but when he hears the commotion from outside his small shanty apartment, he cautiously stalks towards the front door and leans into the wood, gazing out the peephole. He spots you, struggling to unlock the door located on the far side of the hall. Your arms are filled with brown paper bags and an abundance of cardboard boxes circle around your feet. He hears you curse as you drop one of the paper bags. It rips, and groceries spill onto the floor with a clatter. He swallows thickly, feeling his tummy grumble at the sight of fresh fruit and colourful veg. Max hadn’t eaten a single meal this week.

He spends a few more seconds watching you struggle, before the guilt swarms over him and he feels like a creep. He does wonder if he should leave his apartment and help you out though, but eventually he decides on turning his heel and walks back to the torn leather sofa. He just knows he’ll be some kind of intrusion on you. If Max has learned one thing, it’s that he needs to stay away from other people. Otherwise, he’d just hurt them. Even if hurting them was the last thing he intended to do.

Still, he finds himself marvelling over you. He wants to go over and introduce himself. He thinks you’re absolutely stunning. Maybe it’s just because he hasn’t seen a woman (other than his ex-wife) in just short of a year, or maybe it’s something more genuine -- like the way you wear your hair or that glimmer in your eye. Once upon a time, Maxwell would’ve strolled on over to your apartment with the utmost confidence and charm, with the sole intention of winning you over and taking you back to his place. He wouldn’t dare do that now.

He stares at the wall clock, and watches as the minute leg ticks. It’s painfully slow. It’s 5:52pm, and Maxwell is just waiting until 6pm, because he knows at 6pm he can call his son, Alistair. If he tries calling a second earlier though, he is certain his ex-wife will throw a rage, claiming that he’s breaking court order. Maxwell had never been one to follow rules, but now, he didn’t have much of a choice. As he waits for the leg to strike 6, all he can really do is think about you. Truth be told, he hates that he’s thinking about you this much. He doesn't even know you.

But you’re so pretty. Your features are soft and delicate. Your clothes fit you perfectly and hug your body in all the right places. He can’t help but think what you sound like. He wonders if you’re from around here. He wonders why you moved into this particular neighbourhood, out of all the other neighbourhoods in rural D.C. He should go over and say hello at least. It would be the polite thing to do. He considers bringing over a bottle of wine to make a peace offering, but then he remembers all he has in his refrigerator is a stick of butter and a bottle of milk that has grown old and fermented. He assumes that you probably wouldn’t care for such housewarming gifts.

Maxwell calls Alistair as soon as the clock turns six. As always, Alistair is more than excited to speak to his dad, beaming brightly down the line. Alistair tells Maxwell about his step-father, and how he’d built a pool in their back garden for Ali and his mom. Max’s lips curl into a frown when he realises that his ex’s new husband is giving Alistair everything Max couldn’t. And once again, Maxwell feels like he has failed as a father.

For a short while, Alistair babbles about his day at school and how he got full marks on a pop quiz. Maxwell is as proud as punch. He has no doubt that success will one day find Alistair, he just hopes Alistair has an easier time handling it. Max can hear a faint yelling in the background of the phone call and eventually Alistair is interrupted.

“Oh-- mommy is calling me to eat dinner.” Alistair says softly, his voice suddenly growing oddly timid. Max’s stomach grumbles again at the mention of dinner.

“But we still have ten minutes left of our phone call.” Max replies matter-of-factly. He hopes Alistair can’t hear the disappointment in his voice. This isn’t his fault. He hears his ex yell again and Max can’t help but feel his face harden with disdain.

“I know, I’m sorry daddy, but I have to go.” The croak in Alistair’s voice is enough to break Maxwell’s heart. He wishes this could’ve been different. It should’ve been different.

Max knows he can’t argue though. It’s only futile. So he accepts the fact that Alistair has to leave the phone call early -- at least he was getting something to eat. Maxwell remembers when he was Alistair’s age. His mom always struggled to put food on the table because his dad would spend all the money on drinks at the local bar. Maxwell is just grateful his son isn’t starving.

“Okay, it’s okay,” Maxwell reassures before taking a shaky exhale. “I love y--”

But then, the line went dead. Max assumes that Alistair’s mom has ripped the phone from his hand and hung up. Sighing, Maxwell forces himself to stand up and walk on over to his bedroom. The bed is unmade and there are several piles of dirty laundry all over the floor. He jams open the sticky window and climbs onto the balcony, inhaling the cool evening air and lighting a cigarette. Smoking was a habit he’d gotten himself into when he was much younger, but he’d grown out of it when he’d hit limelight. Now though, it was growing back in to be a shameful addiction that he just couldn’t shake. It helped him stop feeling hunger, though.

As he flicks the orange lit ash over the edge of the balcony, his eyes catch on you again. You are standing on the street, talking to some guy. You’re laughing, and it looks like this mystery man’s hand is caressing your arm. It’s probably your boyfriend; Maxwell assumes, and the pang of jealousy in his chest turns into unadulterated sadness as he realises he was probably never going to find love again. He peers over the edge of the balcony once more as he takes a final drag of the cigarette, and he wonders if the jump would kill him.

Maxwell’s eyes begin to sting, and he climbs back into his bedroom, knocking his head on the window pane in the process.

He can’t sleep that night, and he tosses and turns in his three quarter sized bed. He could feel every spring in his mattress. What he would give to just sleep one more night in the soft, plush king sized bed he used to take for granted. He switched on his amber tinged bedside lamp and swatted away a moth that flew towards it. Maxwell stared at the ceiling and wondered if the damp had gotten worse. Even if it had, it wasn’t like Max had the courage to bring it up with the landlord.

He finds himself thinking about you again. He lived to see the way you smiled when you spoke to that guy, or the way your hair blew ever so slightly in the evening breeze. Max wraps his hand around his semi-hard cock and begins to jerk himself off. To nobody’s surprise though, he doesn’t finish -- the overwhelming feeling of revolt consuming him. He thinks he’s disgusting, and that nobody would ever want to touch him. He can’t even stand touching himself.

He falls asleep not long after that.

Max once had a pretty decent sleep schedule, going to bed at 10 and waking up at 6. But now he was up until the early hours of the morning, overthinking and hating himself. He wakes up three or four times a night from the same recurring nightmare. It’s a replay from the clear night of July ‘84, when he took over everyone’s TV screens. His doctor prescribed him therapy for it, which would probably help, but Maxwell just can’t afford it.

He wakes up to the sound of a bang on his front door. Max scrambles to his feet in a panic, checking the time on his alarm clock. It’s 2pm. And the person at the door could easily be his landlord, finally having enough and kicking him out. Max’s rent is two months overdue.

But it’s not his unforgiving landlord. It’s you. And you’re holding a fruit basket.

“Hey neighbour!” you smile pleasantly before introducing yourself to him. “I just moved in across the hall. I wasn’t sure what you’d like… but I figured everyone likes fruit!”

Maxwell stays quiet, standing there in complete disbelief. No one has shown him this amount of kindness in so long…

The prolonged silence makes you feel a little strange. He still hasn’t accepted the fruit basket, nor had he said anything. He was just… staring at you. It wasn’t a slimy gawk. You couldn’t quite put your finger on what his dark eyes were trying to tell you.

“—I’m sorry,” you continue eventually when he doesn’t speak, dropping the fruit basket by your side and turning away. “I uh— would you like me to get you something else?”

Maxwell’s eyes widen and he quickly shakes his head. “No!” he exclaims, opening his front door wider and taking the fruit basket from you. “I’m sorry,” he apologises. “I uh— I love fruit.”

You smile at his fluster, and you swear you notice a rosy pink blush cross his cheeks. It’s adorable.

“Oh okay, that’s good then.”

Maxwell prays you can’t hear his stomach grumble at the sight of the fresh fruit. He’s so excited to eat it all. “How can I repay you?”

You raise your eyebrows at his proposition and chuckle awkwardly. “Repay me? No no,” you laugh. “It’s just a fruit basket,”

It wasn’t just a fruit basket though. It was the only food Max had.

“I mean, you could tell me your name.”

Maxwell curses, realising he hasn’t even introduced himself. Gods— he wonders when exactly he’d lost his charm.

“Right, I’m sorry. I’m Max.” He extends his arm and offers you a handshake. You giggle, but accept.

He feels a bolt of electricity run up his arm when your fingers interlink with his, and he wonders if you can feel it too.

“Very formal Max,” you acknowledge with a smile.

Maxwell genuinely hasn’t communicated with anyone since July 1984. It’s probably about time he ditches the businessman persona, although he doesn’t realise he still uses it from time to time. Old habits die hard.

“I must say, I feel like I recognise you from somewhere.”

“No. You don’t.” Maxwell quickly snaps back and you’re afraid you struck a nerve.

There’s a longer silence and you find yourself wondering about your neighbour. He’s right in front of you and yet you can’t help but feel as though he’s some kind of enigma. Maybe it’s the crinkles in the corner of his eyes or his wry smile.

“Um…” you mumble, your gaze trailing behind him as you try and peer into his apartment. You can’t see much though. From where you stand it looks very empty… and brown. “If you weren’t busy tonight maybe you could come over and we could get to know each other. I uh-- don’t have many friends yet.” you explain shyly, nervously biting your lip.

You didn’t usually get nervous talking to new people, but there was just something about Maxwell that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. His presence made butterflies flutter in your tummy and your hands feel clammy with excitement… or maybe anticipation. He stares at you blankly before clearing his throat.

“I uh-- yeah I mean-- maybe,” Maxwell shrugs cooly. “If I’m not busy.”

Pft, busy. Max hasn’t been busy since the dreamstone debacle.

“Of course,” you nod your head and smile. “Well, you’re welcome to come on over anytime.”

And then, without thinking, Maxwell replies. “And you’re welcome to come over here anytime too.”

You feel your smile grow into a grin and you reach out, placing your hand on Max’s arm. “Okay, well, it was nice meeting you.” you bite your lip.

Max’s heart stops when you touch him, and for the first time, he doesn’t flinch away. You’re holding his bicep and… he likes it. It’s not sending him into a spur of anxiety, in fact, he feels better just for finally plucking the courage to talk to you. And now you’re touching him. You’re not repulsed or disgusted… in fact, you’re smiling. You look happy, and maybe Max is happy too. Maybe. Max doesn’t even realise the small smile that’s crept upon his lips.

“Nice meeting you too.” He swallows and you wave goodbye.

He watches you walk back into your apartment, drinking in your appearance. You were wearing jeans and a sweatshirt today. It was casual… but he liked it.

Even when he finally gets back into his apartment and slumps against his front door, he’s still smiling. This feeling is so unfamiliar.

Maxwell finds himself pondering whether or not he should visit you tonight. He so desperately wanted to see you again-- see your pretty face and sparkling eyes and that perfect smile. Maybe Max could have a friend. That would be nice.

But he quickly gets scared again. He knows immediately that you’re too good for him, and that he’ll only end up hurting you. And then he’ll be left alone again. Max doesn’t know if he can survive another heartbreak.

Once again, he lights a cigarette and sits on the balcony, and wonders if the jump will kill him.

Then he realises he suddenly doesn’t want to die. At least, not yet. He wants to see you again first.

Max doesn’t even bother finishing the cigarette. He taps away the ash and climbs back inside, stripping himself of his clothes and turning on the shower. If he was going to see you tonight, he’d at least make the effort.

The soap he uses is from Dollar Tree, and it doesn’t really have a scent. It made a change from his favourite Jo Malone pomegranate fragranced soap, that’s for sure. He gets annoyed trying to squirt out the very little remenints of his shampoo bottle. Although he doesn’t have much, he’s satisfied when he comes out of the shower. He feels clean and fresh.

Maxwell rakes through his tiny collapsing wardrobe, trying to find an outfit that will make him appear somewhat presentable. He’s probably overthinking this whole thing -- after all, it isn’t exactly a date. But he still feels the strong inclination to impress you. He so desperately wants to be liked by you.

Most of his everyday wear is stained or ripped or very aged. But then he spots the small duffel bag at the bottom of his closet and he remembers he packed some of his old business wear when he moved out of his manor and into this apartment. He hadn’t looked in the duffel bag once since moving though, afraid that seeing the clothes would unleash some kind of trauma on him.

Max crosses his legs and hesitantly unzips the black bag. Inside, he finds a few fitted shirts, a few tailored pants, and one suit jacket. He even spots a belt and two patterned ties. He’s a little upset though when he can’t find the suspenders he used to wear. They were always his favourite part of his outfit.

Maxwell can’t bring himself to dress in the whole get up, but he does pick out a white button down shirt and grey pants. He tucks the shirt in, and wraps the belt through the loops in his pants, clicking it into place. Opting to look slightly more casual, Max leaves the first two buttons of his shirt undone and rolls the sleeves up to his elbows.

And for the first time in a long time, Max likes the way he looks. He wishes he had some cologne to spray, and he could definitely do with a haircut, but this is good enough.

He doesn’t want to seem desperate, so he does wait (albeit impatiently) until 8:30pm to see you. In the meantime, he eats over half of the fruit basket. He tells himself he’ll stop after an apple and an orange, but strangely enough. He can’t. He can’t stop. It just tastes so good and he’s so hungry -- so he eats until he feels sick. He wants to lie down because he really doesn’t feel too good at all, but he’s not going to pass up this opportunity to see you for anything. He feels a little cold, so he throws on his suit jacket which is grey in colour and matches the tailored pants. Max chokes down a glass of water, straightens up his posture, and knocks on your door.

He’s not waiting for long, and he’s delighted when he sees you answer the door. Your lips are painted a ruby red colour and you’re wearing your hair differently. Not only that, but you’d changed out of your sweater and jeans, and now you’re doting a knee length flowy dress. Your feet are slipped into some fuzzy looking slippers though, and Max admires the small diamond stud earrings that you don. They really bring out the colour of your eyes.

“I was hoping you’d come.” you reveal nervously, opening the door wider and looking your neighbour up and down. He looks so incredibly handsome in his change of outfit. Max feels himself blush under your gaze and he smiles.

“I just couldn’t pass this up.” he laughs nervously.

You move out the way and gesture for him to enter your apartment. Max notes that it’s roughly the same size as his, but it’s already filled with more furniture. Judging from the plentiful cardboard boxes in every corner, you hadn’t finished unpacking either. You find yourself watching Max as he takes in your front room. You take his jacket and hang it on your coat peg which stands by your front door. You definitely do recognise him from somewhere, especially seeing him in that shirt and those pants…

You shrug off your curiosity temporarily though, and take his hand, pulling him into your kitchen. Max loves the way your hand fits so perfectly into his. He doesn’t want you to pull away. And you don’t, until you reach the refrigerator.

“I have cranberry juice, tea, coffee-- no milk though, uh…” you trail off and check the cupboards. You beam when you see the bottle of champagne that your friend had gifted you. It was to celebrate moving out. You present him with it and grin. “Would you care to have a glass with me?”

Max remembers the distinct taste of the bubbles on his lips and he nods in agreement. You don’t have any fancy glasses, let alone flutes, so you pour the pale yellow liquid into two plastic tumblers. You hand one to Max and cradle your own in both of your hands.

“You should propose a toast.” you laugh jokingly.

Luckily, Maxwell has always been able to handle being put on the spot. He only takes a few seconds to come up with something.

“To new friends.” he announces with a charming smile, and clinks his cup against yours.

Max hasn’t had a drink in a long time, so it doesn’t take long for it to reside in his system and he begins to feel a bit tipsy. It’s not bad though. Maxwell is relaxed, and he’s comfortable. You bounce off each other and make each other laugh right up until the early hours of the morning. You bring out Monopoly and you’re surprised at how good he is at it. He gives you advice on buying properties and investments and it truly sounds like he knows what he’s talking about. You wonder what he does for a living.

“I didn’t say this earlier,” Max says as you pour out the last of the champagne. The alcohol has him buzzing with confidence. “But you look breathtaking, really. That dress and those earrings and your lips…”

And you don’t know what it is, but Max just makes you feel so good. “My lips?” you repeat breathlessly, gazing into his honeyed brown eyes.

Max nods wordlessly when you climb into his lap and straddle his hips. You place the palms of your hands flat against his chest and nudge your nose against his, giggling playfully. Max feels scared -- he’d never been this close to anyone in so long, let alone a beautiful woman like yourself.

Gods, he’s so handsome too. A small piece of his hair has fallen out of place and it crosses his forehead. You’re quick to brush it out of his face with your finger, and one of your hands cup his cheek. He closes his eyes and leans into the warmth of your touch, humming in contentment. When he opens his eyes again, they’re noticeably shades darker.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks, his voice low like it had dropped a few octaves.

You nod desperately and your lips crash against his.

You don’t know if it’s the alcohol or the adrenaline but he’s an amazing kisser -- perhaps the best you’ve ever had. You roll your hips over his lap and he moans, but doesn’t break the kiss once. His large hands roam around your back and squeeze at the soft flesh of your thighs. The Monopoly game has been long discarded now, leaving only you and Max revelling in each other’s touch.

You want more. You want him. You dip your hand in between your bodies and find his belt, trying your best to undo the buckle so you can get him out of his pants. You’re certain you can feel his erection pressing against the inside of your thigh, and you’d be right in thinking he wants this too.

But what he wants the most, is to not ruin things between you both, and Max feels like that maybe this is all happening a bit too fast. He doesn’t want to reject you, and he’s afraid of hurting you, but he’s also afraid of you getting so close to him -- that you find out who he truly is, and the things he does. He doesn’t want to lose you because you make him feel so happy. For the first time in potentially years, Maxwell feels genuine happiness. He doesn’t want to fuck up, not when he’s been doing so well.

So he pulls away from you breathlessly and moves your hands away from him. He holds them though, brushing his thumbs in comforting circles against your soft skin.

“I really like you,” he smiles. “And tonight has been… great. You have no idea how much I’ve enjoyed myself. But I-- I really want to see you again. And do this again. And have a good time with you. I just don’t think we should-- you know--” Maxwell tries to explain. He feels bad for rejecting you. “It’s not that I don’t want to. Because trust me,” he sighs, closing his brown eyes. “I really really do. But--”

“You don’t have to explain yourself,” you smile, fiddling with the collar of his shirt. “I understand, and honestly, I think you’re probably right. I’ve had a good time too though.”

Maxwell can’t help but beam knowing that there’s no hard feelings between you both.

“So we can do this again?” he asks hopefully.

“Yes.” you reply, pressing a chaste yet sweet kiss to his lips.

You wiggle off his lap and Maxwell stands up. “I should head back home then,” he says. “It’s late. But maybe we can do something tomorrow?”

“I’d like that a lot.” you agree.

Max gives you one final kiss and part of you wants to ask him if he’d be willing to stay the night. You shake away the temptation and tell yourself there’d be plenty more opportunities for him to stay over. Before he leaves, you see him abruptly spin around on his heel and point his index finger towards you.

And your heart drops.

You freeze.

You think you can feel your blood run cold and the colour drain out of your face.

Because in that moment, when he points his finger at you, you recognise him.

You remember him.

You know who he is.

“I almost forgot my jacket.” Max laughs, sliding past you.

You feel like you can’t move though.

This was the man who single handedly almost destroyed the entire planet.

But how -- how could it be Maxwell Lord? He was so sweet and kind and funny. How could the man you just made out with, the man you shared a bottle of champagne with -- your own neighbour…

How could it be Maxwell Lord?

How hadn’t you noticed sooner. Hell, his name was literally Max Lorenzano.

“Goodnight.” Max tells you.

You try and force yourself to say it back but no words come out. Your throat feels dry and you’re panicking.

Max doesn’t even notice though. He’s too busy beaming with happiness when he leaves.

You aren’t sure if you’re going to see him again.

When Maxwell gets back home, he can’t rid himself of the grin that’s plastered across his lips. He sits out on the balcony and lights a cigarette, but this time, when he looks at the ground beneath you, he doesn’t wonder if the jump will kill him.

His eyebrows furrow together when he notices the florist across the road, and he wonders how much a bouquet of flowers will cost him. He wants to get you something; as a thank you for giving him a good time.

He simply can’t wait to see you again.

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#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #maxwell lord #max lord #maxwell lord x reader #max lord x reader #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #ww84

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cloudyevaa · 3 years ago

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— warning!!! spoilers for the 2.1 genshin impact archon quest, and a lot of disappointment up ahead. also disclaimer: i am not by any means qualified to give this criticism lol this is just my take and my opinion on the quest's execution, and i need a place to rant.

I can't be the only one who feels very conflicted about the 2.1 archon quest, right??

I think one of the appeals of inazuma's main story was the fact that there was a war, an ongoing conflict between a nation and its deity - the fact that the archons' moralities are not so black and white as we'd thought is hammered home by the dictating reign of the raiden shogun, in contrast to both rex lapis and barbatos, who have directly aided the traveller in their previous endeavours.

the 2.1 archon quest, though?? it feels as if ei is played off to just be a lonely and misunderstood deity, and she so easily changes after... what? yae miko visits her in her realm of euthymia? the shogun knew of the repercussions of the vision hunt decree, the tenryou commission's involvement with the fatui, and even the civil war.

so why was the plot building up to the reveal that the raiden shogun may have just been mislead by false commission reports? what difference does it make that both the tenryou and kanjirou commissions have betrayed the shogun if she already knew they colluded with the fatui?

I hold nothing against ei's character — in fact, I love the way her ideals seem perfect on paper, but works in detriment to the very people she wants to protect. I love that she struggles to understand how eternity is not stagnation, and that growth is the only thing that will stay forever unchanging, because all moments are fleeting, and all life ends.

but mihoyo makes it extremely hard for me to enjoy her story completely when all we do is fight her and rely on the power of friendship vision bearers' ambitions to change her mind about the vision hunt decree. like, ,, what gives?? everything happened so quickly, how could she so easily throw away the ideals she's been so adamantly holding onto for decades?

I haven't done her story quest, but it looks like she's not even being taken accountable for being the spearhead in a literal civil war. all those vision bearers who lost their lives ( including kazuha's friend ), all the common people she has harmed because of her tunnel vision - she lifts the vision hunt decree and she is suddenly absolved? of course, I don't want a perfect morally good character, but at the very least mihoyo can show us that she is not so perfect so as to suddenly change her mind about the vision hunt decree and sporadically feel compassion for the very people she knows she has harmed.

I'm sure people are also really shocked about signora's death - I am too. I was never a fan of signora but her presence was always filled with mystery, intrigue, and an impending sense of doom. she was that antagonist - beautiful, hauntingly cruel, and jam-packed with unknown backstory ( as seen with the crimson witch and pale flame artifact set lore ) that I thought was going to be further explored on future quests. but?? she??? just???? dies???? and for what?

I don't mind if she dies ( in fact, I would like for an opportunity to use traveller to execute her myself ), but the fact that her death brings no substance to the overarching story, especially since scaramouche just. got the gnosis from yae miko. like, mihoyo can do signora MUCH better than this. she deserves a glorious death as a fleshed-out antagonist, yet I felt nothing for her, not even the slightest bit of satisfaction, when she disappeared into ashes.

and scaramouche. I like the guy, he's funny-looking, and kind of sadistic. the fact that he was appearing in inazuma was a welcome surprise. it made sense, considering he was confirmed to be from inazuma, and there were theories about he and the shogun's similar appearamces which I eagerly consumed. but he appears for like, 3 minutes, and then we're KNOCKED OUT???? seriously???????

when yae miko suddenly appeared I actually thought she'd betrayed us and was working with the fatui. but then she wakes us up, tells us nothing about the SINGLE MOST important exchange in the whole quest until AFTER the main conflict is resolved, and just dumps scaramouche's identity on us as a SIDE COMMENT. what is this tomfoolery??? we weren't even there to see it? at least give us a cutscene explaining what went down, because this was LITERALLY one of the most important parts of the entire archon quest, and one of the recurring goals of the traveller.

also, can we talk about the resistance? oh wait a minute, we can't, because they literally did nothing. absolutely nothing. they contributed a total of 0 times the whole quest. only teppei was a memorable figure, and he had more lore than the upcoming 5-star master strategist of the whole army; kokomi.

as a person who loves kokomi, i am devastated by the lack of actual role she holds within the plot. she is a famed strategist and the only reason the resistance has been holding out for so long, as kujou sara said herself. but she's not given so much as a 30-second fight scene, and we never see her cunning wits on the battlefield - we probably never will. why, you may ask? well, because the freaking war is OVER. because baal just decided to stop the vision hunt decree.

i sincerely hope there will be more substantial kokomi content during her banner where we get to see her shine, seeing as it seems that mihoyo is already nerfing her abilities and focusing their efforts into promoting ei instead.

however, seeing as the main inazuma conflict ( the vision hunt decree ) is already over and dealt with... what the frick is kokomi supposed to bring to the table??? 😃 the one character i feel that shone throughout the quest was kujou sara, who had actually had a set-up for potential character development from the previous patch. but even then she's rendered unconscious by signora in front of the archon she is the loyal right-hand of??? like y'all pls tell me I'm not dreaming.

I loved the graphics, the concept, the lore - but the execution fell flat and felt terribly rushed. I wonder if it's because mihoyo is very insistent on hyper-fixating upon the raiden shogun this update.

anyway, that was a long tangent lmao. if you enjoyed the quest, good for you!! I enjoyed it, too; but my enjoyment is far overshadowed by the glaring issues that i had with it. i'd love to hear other people's thoughts about the quest.

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin 2.1 #some things about this quest just genuinely confuse me #genshin baal #genshin signora #genshin scaramouche #feel free to discuss/disagree #maybe signora could come back but like lmao look ar her ashes yall. we even got her crown #also soomething i thought was acc interesting was the purple fog scaramouche. Uh. released???#that sounds weird but #its interesting and i might elaborate in another post lol #genshin archon quest #— genshin anecdotes.

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aughtpunk · 4 years ago

Text

BREAD BREAD BREAD BREAD BREAD

Toast always lands jelly-side-down around Crowley.

This does not seem to be a big deal at first. After all, even if you take into consideration the thousands upon thousands of meals he and Aziraphale shared it still wasn’t likely that any toast would fall during that time. Toast tended to stay put on the table. It’s toast. And, one might even argue, of course the toast is going to land jelly-side down. That side’s heavier. It only makes sense.

Which is what Aziraphale always thought until he held a piece of toast roughly a finger’s length over a plate and dropped it only for the bread to defy all laws of physics and land jelly-side-down anyway. He then went on to test it with jam, preserves, marmalades, compote, and even had one go with peanut butter. Every piece of toast landed spread-side-down no matter the height in which it was dropped. After he had ruined nearly half of a loaf worth of toast Aziraphale decided this was A Demon Thing and left it at that.

***

Toast always lands butter-side-up around Aziraphale.

At first Crowley assumed this was An Angel Thing. It certainly sounded like an angel-thing. Forever blessed by Her Grace to protect her flock from ever having to wipe butter off the kitchen floor with a paper towel. Crowley had even went out of his way to see if the type of bread mattered. After making his way through the local bread aisle he went on to try bread-adjacent test subjects like bagels, croissants, muffins, scones, and even the most hellish breakfast item he could think of: an english muffin. All landed butter-side up.

What Crowley didn’t know is that this wasn’t An Angel Thing. Why would it be? Aziraphale was the only angel who enjoyed eating enough to go out of his way to butter a slice of toast. In reality this was An Aziraphale Thing, as no bread or bread-adjacent food item wanted to hurt Aziraphale’s feelings by landing the wrong side down. Even breakfast items couldn’t stand to see him disappointed. It was for the best that Crowley didn’t know this. Being on the same emotional wavelength as bread would just be too much for his demonic heart to take.

***

As always, it was the humans who mucked things up.

Aziraphale and Crowley hadn’t meant to befriend the humans they met at the end of the world. Usually they did their best to keep away from humanity. Nothing personal, of course, it just never seemed worth a bother considering they would be dead before you really got to know them. Better to admire humans from afar and help/hinder any of the mayflies that wandered across their path.

(Neither man would ever admit that the exact opposite was true. In fact, it was really easy to truly know a human inside and out in a short amount of time. Even easier to befriend them, or love them. But that was the problem, wasn’t it? The short amount of time. Both men carried a graveyard of memories in their hearts. And with every gravestone there would always be that promise--never again, keep them distant, it’s not worth it--only for them to dig burial plot when another human entered their lives. But enough about that. We’re here to talk about bread.)

They were prepared to leave the humans to their now-normal lives right up until the lot of them showed up at Aziraphale’s shop one morning demanding answers. Turns out that there was just enough non-humanity around them to trip up their brain’s instinct to forget everything that had happened. Every time one of their memories started to slip another person would clear their throat and loudly ask if anyone else was visited by aliens that day to make it all come crashing back.

In the end it was decided they should all get together once a month for a nice cup of tea at Anathema’s place. Aziraphale agreed if only to make sure there were no odd side effects from Adam’s meddling. Crowley agreed simply because the other option was getting poked with a large silver pin over and over until he confessed his nipple amounts. They were both lying to themselves, but that was fine too.

(Don’t worry, we’re getting to the bread)

They were all having a nice conversation about how Crowley invented showing up fifteen minutes late with Starbucks to balance out Aziraphale’s invention of showing up fifteen minutes early with a dozen donuts when Adam lost his grip on his marmalade drenched scone and helplessly watched as it landed face-down with a large squelch.

“That’s Crowley’s doing too,” Aziraphale said with a sigh, “toast landing jelly-side-down I mean.”

“Come on angel, it’s not like I’m doing it on purpose!” Crowley pointed accusingly at Aziraphale, “at least I’m not bending reality to keep butter from getting all over the carpet.”

“I’m sorry?” Anathema asked after the awkward silence went on a moment too long.

“Toast always lands butter-side-up around my angel here,” Crowley said willfully ignoring the fact he said my angel, “go on, test it.”

Anathema took a scone, slathered the top with butter, held over the edge of the table and let go.

The scone landed butter-side-up.

She picked the scone up, held it butter-side-down, and dropped it.

Butter-side-up.

She didn’t even see it flip around.

“I don’t know why, but somehow that’s the weirdest thing that’s happened to us yet.” Said Madame Tracy.

At that point both celestials and humans alike might have gone back to their tea and forgotten the whole toast-jam-butter thing ever happened, but Newt just had to ask a question. That’s what humans did after all. They got in trouble by asking questions. No wonder Aziraphale and Crowley liked them so much.

“So, wait, what happens if you spread butter and jam on the same side?”

Aziraphale and Crowley stared blankly at Newt.

“You haven’t thought to try that?” Asked Madame Tracy.

They turned to stare at each other.

“Aren’t you like, thousands of years old?” Asked Adam.

For the first time in millennia the angel and demon were speechless.

Anathema waited to see if the odd moment would pass and, when it didn’t, quietly admitted that she had a fresh loaf of bread in the kitchen.

***

We are at the bread part.

***

Or, as it would be known, The Bread Incident.

***

“So do we drop it on it’s side?” Newt asked as he placed the buttered-and-jam-covered slice back on the plate. “Or like, spin it around first?”

Adam perked up, “What if you tossed it up in the air like a pizza?”

“Do not.” Anathema said, not wanting to deal with her ceiling while she was already worrying about the state of the floor.

“Oh just shove it off the table!” Madam Tracy said, waving the butter-and-jam covered butter knife around. “More natural that way.”

Aziraphale nodded in agreement. “That does sound like the best approach. Ready, my dear?”

Crowley sighed. “This is it. This is the dumbest thing we’ve ever done.”

“Oh darling, I’m almost certain raising the wrong boy for eleven years was far more idiotic than this.”

“You did what now?” Anathema asked, only for her question to be forgotten by Adam pushing the plate experimental toast off the table. The ceramic plate landed on the kitchen floor with a gentle ting, its form unshattered by a well-timed miracle on Aziraphale’s part. Every eye--human and celestial alike--went from the plate to the piece of toast hanging nervously in the air.

Somehow this didn’t shock any of them.

“I feel weird.” Adam said, finally breaking the silence.

“Me too.” Said Newt.

“There’s a powerful feeling of ennui radiating off that toast.” Madam Tracy said.

“We’ve done it,” Anathema said, “we’ve caused a slice of toast to have an existential crisis.”

“Perhaps it just needs a moment to think?” Asked Aziraphale.

“To think about what? It’s bread, angel!”

The toast exploded, sending bits of burnt jam-and-butter across the kitchen and across most of the guests. They stood there in silence, each looking to the other for some sort of explanation. Perhaps a bit of comfort. Newt was the first one to break, muttering about getting some wet cloths for everyone.

“Angel.” Crowley finally said.

“Yes, my dear boy?”

“Let’s never speak of this again.”

“Yes, I think that is the best course of action, my dear.”

The group of humans and non-humans proceeded to test the butter-jam-bread a good dozen more times, each explosion as sticky as the last.

#Good Omens #ineffable husbands #crowley #Aziraphale #This is so stupid #I'm back baby

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cutegirlmayra · 3 years ago

Note

Here's a prompt idea: Eggmans latest device accidentally turns Amy back into Rosy. But to the Rosy before she met Sonic and the others so she has no memory of her friends and is pretty scared and runs off. So Sonic has to slowly regain her trust and friendship and is reminded why he's glad to have her around as a friend. Just some sweet fluff (eeeeeeeee! I love da fluffy)

PROMPTS ARE ON SHUTDOWN, DO NOT SEND ME A REQUEST. I have too many, please follow the rules of the blog and wait for a grand announcement T-T I also want to focus on Fanfiction for a little bit so please, please have mercy on my soul \(TD\T)

(This art is owned to (x) Please support the original artist! - found through google.)

Pajama Blogs Ep.1 - Timestamp 1:01:06 (x)

Prompt:

In the thick of the battle, where Eggman has once again blurred the lines of time and stolen two Chaos Emeralds that have been locked into place by a case of glass on either side of his raygun, the team desperately try to avoid getting zapped into another dimensional self or even a past form.

"Wo-hohoho!" Eggman's infamous laugh triggered the large jumping moment of his stomach before he peered down at what he considered the squabbling, pint-sized forms of his nemeses. He beamed a grin of mischief and looked to the blue streak that had foiled every carefully laid out plan since... well... the dawn of his reign of terror upon this world.

"Not this time..., Sonic!" he reared the gun skyward, showing the effort as it jostled the machine a moment as he had implanted the device onto his Egg-mobile, "This time, I'm going back to before you were ever the hero! Back when you a slobbery, good for nothing, vulnerable little child!"

Sonic looked up to see what he was talking about, the device's nozzle being adjusted like a temperature or safe-lock setting, and being too far away to gauge what the actions meant, he just braced himself and ran forward. "Come on!" he called to his friends, Tails, Knuckles, and-

"Sonic! I'm coming too!" Amy rushed out behind the three, as Knuckles and Tails turned around from flying and gliding in the sky by Sonic to see her.

"W-what? Amy? When did you get here?" Sonic looked over his shoulder, but as he did so, Amy looked up and saw Eggman smirking, finally getting the bulky, heavy gun angled down and flipped two switches that started making the device glow and charge up.

"Look out!" Amy threw her hammer to Sonic, who tossed it to the side with a spinning kick.

"W-what?" He didn't understand before turning to see the beam and skidding to a halt. His eyes were overwhelmed with the bright color of neon red before Amy expertly jumped and twirled through the air in an acrobatic-like maneuver.

Seeing this, Eggman's face dropped from his insane joy to one of disappointment and surprise as she narrowly summoned another hammer and it intercepted the beam.

Lightly tapping the edge of it, the beam suddenly bent and 'flipped a U-ie' and looped itself back to sparking and hitting her hammer. Since her hand was attached, it sparked and moved to consume her frame in seconds within the bright red light, before she fell down to the ground, her silhouette showing her head coming up as she was trying to push off the ground... The hammer fell with a few flops before shrinking in size and turning into a typical Japanese hammer toy for toddlers.

Tails looked up to Eggman who grumbled and moved the gun, looking down off the side of his Egg-Mobile, as though not sure if his device was really going to succeed or not, but curious what it may do.

"Amy's younger than Sonic... if he put a date in that's too far back..." Tails's eyes shook as he felt his body pulse back in shock at that thought... "No..." his eyes arched and he looked down to Amy, flying as fast as his twin-tails could take him. "Ammmyy!!!" he called out.

With Tails's added cry, Sonic's eyes stopped shaking and he blinked back into the reality of the situation. He also ran to her as Knuckles glided down from hovering in the air to be in front of Amy, glaring up at Eggman to keep an eye on him while Tails and Sonic went to Amy's side.

Tails fell by her but as Sonic went to reach out for her, grabbed his reaching arm with both hands, pulling it away, "No, wait, don't-!" he warned, "The ray traveled from her hammer to her body, it's probably still able to. I bet it's transferable with touch, did you see the way it looped back after Amy tipped its line's edge with her hammer?"

Sonic looked to Tails, then Amy, seeing the shadow of her looked as though struggling to rise up, possibly... was she in pain?

"You expect me to do nothing? Tails, I can't just... sit here and watch!" Sonic used his hands to express himself, turning them up to their palms and bouncing them a bit with the gravity of his words reflecting his heart. He looked with arching eyes back to Amy, who slowly began to shrink as her voiced struggles turned more and more higher in pitch... until...

The light blasted off, as though a paper-wrap being torn and blown up and then...

Tails and Sonic peered over the fabric of red, then Eggman continued to lean with a mouth forming a curious, small 'o' before having to grab the other end of his tilting Egg-Mobile just to stabilize himself and not fall over. Due to the size of the raygun attached to its front, the weight balance wasn't good, and as the gun's tip slid with the weight Eggman was leaning on--it almost flipped fully over!

His leg came up to counterweight it, but why am I spending so much time describing this funny scene when I'm clearly breaking up the tension of what happened to Amy Rose?

"Amy..?" As the sparks were gone, Tails finally let go of Sonic's hand.

It was the free then to reach out and lightly grip the edge of the now large dress, and slowly draped it to the side as it gently skimmed over light pink quills.

It was a small ball, almost the size of a melon, before it softly stuck out a long, protruding nose.

Tails's and Sonic's eyes widened, not having seen that since... well, before she hit puberty.

"Is she..?" Sonic began, looking to Tails before the little creature yawned and stuck out a hand, patting the ground and sniffing, before finding the edge of the dress again and grunting in annoyance at someone removing its blanket.

It found it and kept trying to toss the warm, lightweight fabric ontop of itself, again, pulling its long nose and pointed muzzle back into its curled ball and bringing its hand back under as well.

Eggman flew around at all sides, trying to see over and past the two heads but Knuckles kept on him and zipped to every direction he tried to look as well, "Oh, no you don't!"

He was growing irritated, taking the gun and bopping it to spark it to life again, charging. He figured, if it did work, might as well fire on the rest of them!

"We're gonna have to start up a nursery." Orbot was looking through large, exaggerated, almost like a space telescope with a small, looking-glass end for his eyes to peer through binoculars back at Eggman's HQ.

His view showed Tails carefully wrapping the large dress over the small, trying to sleep child and looking to see the hammer. He picked it up and placed it on top of the now wrapped dressed over the curled baby hedgehog and shrugged to Sonic, not sure how he was going to reverse this.

Sonic's anger was now full, he turned with a shaking fist, squinting in his fierce sense of justice up to Eggman who continued to bonk, kick, and jostle the gun to get it up and going before looking down to see Sonic's fury. "Eggman!"

He winced, his mustache drooping at his tone.

He lifted a foot back up to the rim of his Egg-mobile, "It's... grk... jammed!" he suddenly was flung back as the gun went crazy and shot everything in random directions.

The ray hit a flower and turned it into a sapling, a great oak to a sprouting twig, and a Butterfly passing through into a Caterpillar...

"Well, at least I know it works. Oh no!!" His glasses 'tink'ed down slightly as the gun rotated up and then fell as though backwards... facing Eggman.

Orbot screeched through his vocal box, "Doctor!!!!"

After a ray of light, Tails walked up the hill with Eggman carrying the large Egg-Mobile and raygun attached to it on his shoulders and half his back. The two looked back as though waiting for Sonic to drop the young Eggman off at his base for Orbot and Cubot to deal with. Unfortunately, they begged Sonic to help them, and he conceded as he raced back with Cubot and Orbot under his armpits--since they were just a small iron bar for a body anyway--and a toddler Eggman whacking the side of Sonic's face and laughing. He was still bald, but no mustache.

The three headed to Tails's lab, Vanilla and Cream trying to take care of the two with Orbot and Cubot who were like rattles in his grip. "H-Help!" Cream approached, leaving Vanilla to finish clothing Amy in her old attire.

"There!" Vanilla pulled down the iconic, puffy green shirt as the little girl looked it over. "Hmm, ain't that wonderful? Looks like you kept your old clothes, boxed up in a storage part of your closet. It was titled 'Future Family', isn't that sweet? Like hand-me-downs." she cupped her face as though that was so sweet, but when she looked down, Amy was gone. "Oh!" she immediately covered her mouth and started looking around, "Amy? Amy, dear..?"

"Now, Mr... uhh... I guess you're just Eggchild now, huh?" Cream went to pick up Eggman who kicked and squirmed in her grasp. "Momma?" She saw her mother frantically lifting up pillows on the couch, as though she lost something and gently put them down with a sigh.

"Where could she have gotten off to so quickly?"

Back in Tails's workshop, the door creaked open a bit as Amy stumbled in and hid in the scrap metal, not sure who these people were, but listening to them as they spoke.

"Apparently, my theory was false." Tails began, turning to Sonic and Knuckles, who had his arms folded while Sonic's was relaxed by his sides.

He was trying to remain calm, after all, the two little things were in Vanilla and Cream's care. He was resting easy for now, hoping to get this solved soon.

Tails showed the dial on the raygun, pointing to it as he had dislodged it from on Eggman's Egg-Mobile, "These aren't dates or times, they're molecular ages..." he explained, then looked up at Sonic, "In other words, based on whatever stage of life it's set to, anything hit with this thing will turn into that form during that cycle of its life."

"But... then why doesn't Eggman seem to remember anything?" Sonic gestured a hand out.

"Yeah, we asked him, and even then... he's not talking." Knuckles frowned, but Sonic shook his head and put a hand on his shoulder, making him look at him funny.

"Knuckles, Knuckles, Knuckles... he's not old enough to talk yet." Sonic teased, patting his shoulder a second before smirking at him, "However, if his mind was the same, he'd certainly have acted angry, right?"

"Exactly," Tails nodded, as the two turned their attention back to him, but Knuckles growled in annoyance at Sonic's slight belittlement of his statement. "It's still got the Chaos Emeralds, wielders that manipulate time and space attached to it." He turned their sights back to the dial, "Which means..."

"It's taking them back to that time, too. Not just their body." Knuckles finished for him.

As though not expecting his intelligence, Sonic and Tails turned to look at him stunned, and Knuckles looked back at each of them, "What!?" he exclaimed, unfolding his arms to have them gesture angrily out at them, "I'm not stupid! I can connect the dots!"

Amy didn't quite understand what these older kids were saying, but had to find a way out of here.

She looked around and found the garage switch! That should open the door and get her out of here with these weirdos!

Even though... of the weirdos...

She looked to Sonic, her eyes slightly shining.

Was pretty handsome...

"So, that's good news, right?" Sonic spoke up, "If we can just turn that thing in the right way, we should be able to get Amy and Eggman back to their normal ages, right?"

"A simple fix." Tails nodded, "Better than most outcomes, haha!" he then looked to the symbols. "Thing is..."

Knuckles and Sonic leaned in, waiting for Tails to finish as he lowered his head.

"I... can't tell what Eggman's code for figuring out the placement means..."

Sonic put his hands on his hips and leaned forward as Knuckles arched his back and face-palmed himself.

Everyone just kinda sighed or groaned.

"Great! We gotta go through trial and error?!" Knuckles spat out. "How long will that take?"

"And more importantly," Sonic walked up to Tails, standing beside him, "Is it safe?" He angled his head in a tilt back, as Tails shook his head.

"We shouldn't try it on Eggman or Amy just yet. Give me some time, I should have it figured out in a jiffy." Tails responded light-heartedly, still showing it was possible and not too terribly difficult, but Knuckles threw up his fists.

"Time!? How long do you expect us to babysit these-!?" Before he could finish his sentence, Sonic gasped and pointed to tiny fingers reaching for the Garage door's button.

"Look!" he cried out, as the three turned and Amy flinched, jumping into a spin to lightly tap the button and scoot under the rising door. "H-hey!" Sonic dived and reached out for Amy, but she was quick and small, meaning he got trapped by the rising door and had to wait to scoot under it. "Darn," He smiled, finding this kinda fun. "Hey! wait! Don't get hurt!" he called out, which stopped the fleeing Rosy girl, who turned back and put her hands over the other and up by her chest, surprised that... anyone would care about her like that.

Who were these people?

Sonic, crawling out to where his torso was at least through the slit, smiled kindly to her with eyes that showed only care and... even a bit of playfulness.

She narrowed her eyes... that was strange, but she blushed and took off again.

Sonic closed his eyes and let out a chuckle, getting up on his knee as the door slowly... but surely began to rise up enough for him to fully stand. "I'll take care of our little rascal, Tails. You just get that machine decoded." He flung back a thumbs up, and Tails nodded.

"Leave it to me!" he seemed determined.

"H-hey, what, are you saying I have to look after Eggman?!" Knuckles stomped the ground as he stepped back, flabbergasted by what this might entail for him...

Tails just looked to him and laughed, "Vanilla and Cream have Orbot and Cubot to help them out, why don't you go with Sonic? She's a slippery one, he might need all the help he can get!"

"I can handle her on my own," Sonic folded his arms, not even looking to see where Amy had run off too, a bit overconfident. "It's just one hedgehog, and you're forgetting something." he winked, holding up a pointer finger and wiggling it with a shake of his head. "I'm irresistible!"

Knuckles scoffed as Tails placed the raygun down and covered his mouth as he chuckled.

"Yeah, well... how much trouble can a little girl get into, yeah?" Knuckles drooped his arms a little, hunching his back as he walked towards Sonic. "It's better than whatever I'd have to do wiping Eggman's butt!"

"He's not that young." Sonic lowered his eyelids and tilted his head, putting his hands on his hips and then raising an eyebrow, "You... do know the different development stages... right?"

Knuckles flinched, "How am I supposed to know anything about babies!?"

"Toddlers." Tails corrected, "And they can be quite intelligent. They use mimicry to learn and grow. They're always watching." Tails held up a finger, as though instructing Knuckles, "You two be on your best behavior. Who knows, if we change Amy back, she might have picked up a behavior or two from you." He shrugged, making Knuckles wince as Sonic winked secretly to Tails, in on the prank.

"Yeah, Knuckles," He put an arm around him, making him even more uncomfortable, "You'll have to be the outstanding role model for Amy from now on, until Tails figures out the dial settings, anyway." he grinned, totally fooling and freaking out Knuckles, which he was gullible enough to believe.

"Oh, man... I-I-I don't know how to be one of those!" he worriedly admitted out loud.

"Don't you worry, buddy, I'll show you the ropes, no problem!" he gestured out a cocky shrug, "It's easy! Just remember your typical moral code and be sensitive to the child's needs! Nothing to it!" he gave him his signature thumbs up and wink before dashing off, "See ya, Tails! I'm off to find Amy!"

"Don't play too much..." Tails mumbled, but Sonic was already gone. He looked to Knuckles, chuckling as he held a hand over his stomach for a moment with the action. "It's okay, Knuckles. Just... entertain her for a bit until I can figure this out. It shouldn't be too difficult, just like Sonic said, it's all about being on your best behavior." he closed his eyes and shook his finger as though that's all that was required.

Knuckles mimicked the action, holding his own finger up, "Be on your best behavior... got it!" he waddled off, keeping the finger out, "Best behavior... just be on your best behavior..!"

Tails, flying over to make sure Knuckles was gone... suddenly burst out laughing.

Sonic stopped to look behind him and see that Knuckles was a fair distance away, then smirked again, "Heh, now that he's out of the way... Hmm..." he put a hand up over his eyes to block the sun, looking happily over the area to find a speck of pink. "Now... if I was a confused little hedgehog... where would I be hiding..?" he found a patch of long-leaf, bushy plants that were moving near the jungle. "Ah-ha!" he took off as Knuckles called out to him.

"H-hey! Wait for me!!! Ohhh, Soniiiccc!!" Knuckles picked up the pace, "Man, I gotta make a good first impression, don't I? Am I... intimidating? Amy's probably never seen an Echidna before if she's a toddler again, yeah? Oh man... I'm gonna suck at this!" he hurried up the hill to catch Sonic, as he slowed down and started to fake wandering through the brush.

He stuck out a foot and felt the ground out, putting his hands behind his head, "Huh? Now,... where, oh, where could that darling little hedgehog be?" He teased, putting his hands down and by his hips, facing his back to where he could clearly see and hear her moving through the bushes, crawling to try and get away and stay silent.

But she was anything but stealthy. He looked over his shoulder and chuckled, then dramatically began his performance. "Oh shucks, I really thought we could hit it off and be friends, too." He put a hand up to his forehead, speaking loudly. "I guess she doesn't like me... how sad, I think I might... be alone..." he faked a sniff, putting his hand down to his chest, "For the rest of my days... Poor, old Sonic." He shrugged and shook his head out, then smirked and narrowed his eyes behind him when he heard the shuffling stop.

'Got'cha.' he let the smirk reach the corner of his muzzle, 'Your bleeding heart is still too good to pass up someone who you feel is in need. No matter what age you are, you're still a bit of a saint.' he flopped down to be more at her level, but acted as though he was whining and complaining, "Ohhh!!!! What ever will I do!" he lifted his head to call up... then opened an eye to see if she was coming.

Just as planned, a tiny little hand gripped the back of one of his two spikes on his back.

He smiled kindly and looked back to her with great care to not seem threatening, "Well, hello there." he suddenly saw her look up and blush, then take off. "Huh? Hey, wait, where are you going?" He didn't bother to reach for her, just watched her.

"Ah, faking shy, eh?" He gave her a fond look, before Knuckles tumbled down to the ground with a bent and twisted body, looking completely out of his element in his worry of having to re-introduce himself to Amy... as a kid. "You're really banged up about this, aren't you?" Sonic teased, seeing his apparent struggle.

Knuckles got up and rubbed his head, on his hands and knees now, "Shut up..!" he countered, "Besides, what makes you so chill about meeting Amy again at this age? Aren't you a bit concerned she won't like you like she does now? O-or did now, o-or..." As he tried to figure out the tense, Sonic just rolled his eyes up and started crawling on the ground towards where Amy scampered off to. "Hey! Quit leaving me behind!!" Knuckles shouted out as Sonic lifted a foot up and tapped his mouth shut.

"Quiet, will ya? You'll scare her off." Sonic watched as Knuckles blinked, then nodded as Sonic removed his foot, "You really have never talked to a girl before... have you?"

"What's that supposed to mean!?" His anger spiked, but he was shouting in a whisper now, his fist up by Sonic and his teeth now pointed, eyes white in fury, and insulted with an anger mark showing through. "I was alone on an island my entire life! What's your excuse!?"

"I grew up around orphans..." Sonic muttered, looking around casually with his eyes for any sign of movement of where she might be.

"H-huh..? You did?" Knuckles blinked his eyes again, amazed.

"Yeah, you guys." Sonic teased, smiling back at Knuckles. "Tails, Amy... I was always being admired by those younger than me... it made me appreciate people like you and Eggman." he turned with a mischievous look in his face to Knuckles, pulling an eyelid down and sticking his tongue out, "I never had to be anything for you two."

"Why you..." Knuckles twitched an eyebrow in annoyance, but Sonic then lifted up a pointer finger, reminding Knuckles of what Tails had said.

"Just remember, tender love and care." He then grinned a beaming smile as though this was fun for him, and trekked back through the foliage as Knuckles held up his own finger again, repeating.

"Be on your best behavior... Tender love and care... got it... Ah! Hey! You're going off without me again!" he crawled after Sonic... but really, he was just following his lead.

Amy flopped a few long, dangling leafs off of her as she finally made it through the jungle floor's flora and looked up at the giant temples and structures before her.

She had never seen anything so massive and brilliant, tall and imposing... she looked behind her to hear Knuckles bumping into Sonic, and him telling him to 'watch it' and realized that those two strange boys were still after her.

She puffed up a cheek, 'Don't they ever give up!?'

She took off towards the steps of the temple before shying back and growing scared... one wrong move... and she could slip and fall all the way down the steps...

She rubbed her head with both hands, already scared of that possibility before gasping as Knuckles and Sonic came out of the bush.

"Huh? There you are!" Sonic called, very friendly, "Hey, where ya going?"

She immediately shivered, what did these men want with her..?

Sonic saw this... and immediately lost the nature.

He got up, "Hey, we're not here to harm you." he lifted his hands out to show her that it was okay, to not get worked up and calm down.

She scooted away, looking back up the structure and then to Sonic and Knuckles.

Sonic's eyes bent sweetly, "There, see? We can just talk and play, alright? We're not as scary as you may think-"

Knuckles bulldozed out and knocked Sonic down, the two tumbling as Sonic flailed a bit in the tangled wrestle of sorts, Knuckles having vines all over him.

"Ahhh!! It's a snake, get it off of me!" it clearly wasn't...

Amy was freaked out and all of Sonic's 'calming' energy escaped her and was pointless as she started the climb up the temple.

"Oh no!" Sonic pushed Knuckles off of him as he kept 'fighting' the vines he thought were snakes. "Amy!" he called out.

She paused... looking back at him, she wondered how he knew her name.

He raced over to her and held out his arms, "Amy, jump down, you'll get hurt!" he reached out further, showing how sincere he was. "Amy..." His eyes carried a look as though he wanted to protect her...

Her own eyes sparkled and shook... someone... someone truly wanted to be there for her?

Her hand moved a little off the next step she was going to climb, as though to trust that Sonic would catch her, but then...

"Got it! Haha! Take that, snakes!" Knuckles flopped the snakes off of him and then looked to see her on the temple steps, "GAHH!!! My ancestorial shrines!!!" He gripped his hands to his cheeks, then ran over and held up a fist, looking stern and fierce in his face as his brow was sharp and angled down. "Get off of there, you're far too small to be climbing that!" he shouted, as Sonic scolded him immediately and narrowed his eyes to him.

"Knuckles!"

"What!? .... ohhh..." Knuckles lowered his fist and loosened the features on his countenance. "Eh-heh... too much?" Some awkward sweat at knowing he had made a mistake dripped down the side of his face as Amy kept climbing. "Gahhh!!! She's gonna fall!" Knuckles worried, before jumping up and hitting his spikes on his fists to the temple's wall, hurriedly climbing up that way, "Ura-ura-urah!" he was like a red stream train that terrified her.

"Knuckles, stop it! You're scaring her!" he was making it worse, so Sonic scaled up the temple after him, running along side where he was drilling his fist in to keep scaling the large structure, "What happened to 'best behavior' and 'tender love and care'?" Sonic quipped back, but Knuckles just tsk'ed.

"You think your way is working any good? Pfft! She hasn't come to you yet, either!"

Sonic frowned, tilting his head as though he had something to prove now.

"Fine." He dashed up in front of Knuckles to stop him from climbing as ancient dust sprayed onto his face, making him cough and stop fully in his tracks.

"Hey!" he hacked, "Grr... what was that all about?" He didn't seem to understand... Sonic's gentleness towards the situation.

Amy kept climbing, her whole body having to pull itself up over each step before she looked down and panicked, seeing how high she had already gotten and the cold chill of the atmosphere that made her flinch back and cling to the stony, yet smoothened over through time steps.

She closed her eyes... and then... a hand reached out to her.

"Amy..?"

She blinked her eyes opened and looked up, amazed to see Sonic had made it to the steps above her and was reaching down, that same care in his eyes...

'This handsome boy... what does he want with little old me?'

"It's gonna be okay, Amy." Sonic's voice seemed to raise the rising heat on her cheeks. "You're gonna be alright, just hang on. Take my hand, I know it's scary, but you don't have to go back down alone. I'm here now, and I won't let you go. I promise."

His words... the expression on his face...

Every bit of her wanted to trust him.

Her mouth opened and then closed, her head turned away and her eyes shut as well. "I..." she could barely speak in her fear, "I can't."

His eyes blinked and lightened up a bit in curiosity, "Why not, Amy?" He was still being supportive, just wanting understanding.

"You..." she shivered... was she still afraid of him?

"You'll fall, too."

It was moments like these that melted away whatever cool guy attitude or ego Sonic thought he had. His eyes bent in absolute consideration for her... even in her own fears, she always thought of others and was more worried about pulling him down with her than her own safety.

"That's what I've always admired the most about you, Amy." He beamed a smile that when she looked to it, was like the very sun on top of the ancient ruins... like a sun god.

"Even in such a tiny body... your heart is as huge as can be."

With that, she went to take his hand... but then there was a tremor.

"W-woah-woah!" Sonic held on as only a foot and a hand was now on the steps above her, and her little body was being tossed about a bit, desperately trying to hold on. "Knuckles!" Sonic cried out, as Knuckles was charging from below, finally grabbing her ankle.

"Got her!" Knuckles grinned and snickered somewhat, "Hehehe, now you can't get away. You grab her from above and we'll glide down, Sonic!" He shouted out, making Amy flinch as she started hitting his head down.

"No, no, no!" she cried out, tears on the corners of her eyes, "Bad man, bad man!"

"B-bad man!?" Knuckles, getting repeatedly stomped on, looked confused, "We're trying to save you!"

"She means you, Knuckles!" Sonic gritted his teeth, "You have no tact, man!"

"Screw that! What does a tack have to do with this!?" He didn't seem to understand the term...

Sonic shook his head, then allowed himself to fall a bit down before catching himself again, kicking Knuckles with Amy as she watched a protective and caring arm go around her waist. "Get off, you brute! You're horrible with kids!"

"Brute!?" Knuckles was suddenly kicked down and fell, "AHH!!!!" he glided and looped around to another part of the wall. "WHAT WAS THAT FOR!?!?"

"Tsk, some heroic first impression, huh?" Sonic sarcastically stated,... as Amy's eyes began to fall in love with this strange blue hedgehog...

He helped her kick the bad man down...

He held her but wasn't trying to rip her off the stony mountain building...

"Who..." she softly let out, her little, high-pitched voice so cute as Sonic looked to her.

"Hmm?" he waited, still and comforting, for her to finish her question.

"Who are you, mister?" Her sweetness also came with some bitter aftertaste to him... as his eyes bent... wishing she knew all the history they had together...

His mind wandered to dates where he would carry her shopping list, and how she would spin around and give a cheery open-smile to him... "My hero!" she would chime out.

His eyes danced in those memories... barely remembering her as Rosy the Rascal, but mostly... as Amy Rose.

He smiled and closed his eyes, 'heh'ing as he then opened one and gave her a charming smile. "I'm Sonic!" he put a bit of gusto into it, "I'm Sonic The Hedgehog!"

"Hold her still!" Tails's voice suddenly flew into earshot as Sonic broke out of his dynamic introduction and looked down to see Tails flying up in a spiral. "Herrrree I goooo~" he lugged the heavy raygun up all the way and then fired it towards Amy.

The next day, Amy was knitting something on her porch, tapping her toes against the wooden porch before sighing and looking to the sky...

"...I was always on my own, then... longing for someone sweep me off my feet... I had no idea... that what I really needed was..." She paused when her hair flew to the side and she covered some of her face from the wind, then smiled as Sonic had raced by.

Her smile rose and she giggled, leaning forward and getting up off the step to grip a beam and lean her head lovingly into it.

"Was someone to believe in me... And support my adventures... no matter what."

And she was happy.

#sonamy tag #sonamy #cutegirlmayra #sonicxamy #amy rose #classic amy rose #rosy the rascal #sonic the hedgehog #sonamy prompt #me writing #me prompts

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jjungkookislife · 3 years ago

Text

Fic Recs 2020 Pt. 1

Seokjin

let’s get married [SMAU] @hangsangwithbts

Summary: seokjin has no intention of getting married, but after facing tremendous pressure from his family to finally settle down, he comes up with the brilliant idea to fake a marriage. the lucky bride just so happens to be you.

voice mail @joonary

summary: kim seokjin is best known around campus for his romance advisory podcast, voice mail, but to you, he’s just your lovable idiot of a best friend. but when he accidentally lets it slip that he’s fallen for one of your fellow peers, you can’t help but be a little bit curious (and quite frankly, a tad bit jealous).

Yoongi

cheers if you agree @out-of-jams

summary: If it weren’t for the fact that he didn’t know who you were or even how to get into contact with you, Yoongi wouldn’t be posting all over Weverse for anyone to see. Not that he thought anyone would be smart enough to put the pieces of the puzzle together with how many people responded to his posts anyway.

snake kisses @peekaboongi

summary: You are grossly unprepared for the snake hybrid that enters your life. Yoongi is quiet and sneaks around you but eventually, even the cold reptile warms up to you.

under construction [SMAU] @luffles424

summary: In which y/n is just trying to figure out what to do with her life with the help from her (un)helpful friends

Hoseok

going once, going twice, sold @bxebxee

summary: But the real reason anything at all started with Hoseok was something much simpler, and probably wholly unexpected - not that you ever planned on any of the other members of the MBA Society to find out.You leave your unlocked phone in his car before stumbling your way into your tiny, studio apartment. And he sees a twitter notification asking you for further discount on your panties.That is all it takes.

just practice @lamourche

summary: The second time you hook up with Jung Hoseok, he doesn’t remember the first time. You’re surprised. It was only a few weeks ago, and you were in a broom closet. That has to be different, right? (Well, not really, you’ll learn.)

game over @9uk

summary: your boyfriend has been gaming all day without paying much attention to you. that is until his friends on discord brings up the moaning noises in the background.

you’re my kryptonite @dovechim

summary: Superheroes are immortal, they are everything we are not. The Krypton are a race of superhumans sent down to Earth to protect humans, and they are the epitome of nobility and protection. You have always believed in their immortal, God-like powers, revered and admired them your entire life. Your wish for your very own superhero is granted when you meet Jung Hoseok, a Krypton with the most unique, powerful abilities you’ve ever seen.

Namjoon

first, do no harm @yandere-society

summary: Dr. Kim is well known as the most skilled heart surgeon in the hospital, but when you notice his mortality statistics seem skewered, you discover all is not what it seems. Now, Dr. Kim is offering you a choice: will you join him? Or become yet another broken heart beneath his scalpel?

internet friends [SMAU] @bts-celestials

summary: meeting through online, namjoon slowly starts to fall for the person who likes all the things he’s into. maybe having friends online is fun.

Jimin

reset @dovechim

summary: We are made of the pieces of what we remember, and we hold in ourselves the hopes and fears of those who love us. As long as there are memories to call our own, there can be no true loss. But Park Jimin has no such privilege.

paparazzi (tw: flash banner) @chinkbihh

summary: What if the roles were reversed and it was Jimin who was the fan and you who was the idol? But what if he wasn’t just a casual fan, but an avid fan? Maybe even a sasaeng…

Taehyung

the morning after @softlyjiminie

summary: one night, full of passion, whispered promises and heated kisses. one morning, full of regret and unwanted memories. is a night with your ex enough to send you running back into the arms of the devil?

fake love @mygsii

summary: an arranged marriage between you and taehyung leaves behind feelings of bitterness and hatred. will your heart be able to survive, especially when you’ve loved him all your life, or will it fall apart with this marriage?

cheap skate @gukslut

summary: Who doesn’t know Taehyung and his lady? Cutest couple in town, I’d say, and have been since they started dating in their college days. Oh, that was a while ago, though. And still, they’re happy as can be in that place they have together. Almost hate seeing one without the other, y’know, it’s like seeing just one testi- oh, right, I’m not supposed to talk like that. Anyhoo, I only say that because I saw Taehyung at a jewelry store the other day while I was buying my sweet Jiminie his presents. Maybe that boy’s finally gonna pop the question, but I do hope he’s got a good plan for it. Something sweet and romantic. Maybe I’ll find out after Jiminie gets back from that cabin he’s visiting.

baby i @jiminsfault

summary: a one night stand with a stranger leads to so much more than just great sex

Jungkook

only for love [SMAU] @lysjeon

summary: for almost four years it had been just him and sarang, and he had no plans on changing the life they had become accustomed to any time soon, but of course y/n has to come and shake his world.

one time in your room @ubemango

summary: There are papers to write, and virgins to daydream about. (You can think about Jeongguk’s dick later.)

piss off your parents @littlemisskookie

summary: In an effort to piss off your parents you move in with their worst nightmare- a boy with tattoos, a rock band, and an irresistible charm.

departure @nomnomsik

summary: As a flight attendant for Korean Air, you’re scheduled for a thirteen-hour flight to Japan. However, things get intimate between you and your partner and co-pilot, Jeon Jungkook, when he realizes Park Jimin, the famous idol from Korea, broads the plane and blatantly flirts with you.

curiosity @hobidreams

summary: when innocent jungkook comes to you with a not-so-innocent question… you decide it’s easier to just demonstrate.

inkling @gguksgalaxy

summary: Jungkook is your brother’s boyfriend’s co-worker, they own a tattoo and piercing parlour. In other words, he’s tall, gorgeous, has his passion literally etched into his skin, looks incredibly good in a man-bun, and is semi-unattainable for you. Why? Well…you’re not entirely sure but him ditching right after a very heated make-out session sure isn’t a good sign. His extremely poor mood the next week sure isn’t either, but the only way to fix it is to face the beast head-on. Right?

j’aime @baepop

summary: You’re the newest hire at a local café and head barista Jeon Jungkook takes you under his wing.

pop goes the cherry @1oserjk

summary: jungkook comes back home to find you visiting as well, all grown up — in more ways than one.

skirt chasers @1kook

summary: “Baggy clothes are in, but you wouldn’t know that, Miss I Draw Inspiration From Catholic School Girls.”

kiss it better @jincherie

summary: When one goes to Kim Seokjin for advice, it’s almost guaranteed to never end well. This is something Jungkook learns quickly when he mistakenly follows treasured advice to ‘be smart’ and ‘use his assets’. He just did what he was told! Of course, the execution was a bit poor… and embarrassing. But hey, if rocking up to cheer practice in a skirt doesn’t woo your crush, what will?

pay by play @yoonia

camboy!au

deeply poisoned @xmagicxshopx

summary: Kiss me on the lips, a secret just between the two of us. Deeply poisoned by the jail of you. I cannot worship anyone but you and I knew the grail was poisoned but I drank it anyway.

speeding ticket @minstrophywife

summary: Caught speeding to get home in time, you find yourself pulled over by a very delicious cop. Perhaps you can talk your way out of the ticket.Or,“I’m afraid I’m going to have to do a cavity search ma’am.”

OT7/Multiple Members

buttercream @minniepetals

summary: you were always adorable in their eyes, sometimes a little too adorable.

dulce periculum @forgottenpasta

summary: Devious and devilish, your two new impish hybrids never miss a chance to torment you for your hopeless attraction to them, knowing exactly what they do to you. But is sly sexuality and enigmatic allure all there is to the tiger and wolf hybrid, or do the depths of their eyes hide something more for you? Part ½

tropicana @dragunjk

summary: groovy punch sippin

amaranthine @koyamuses

summary: As the sole owner of Nightshade, a quaint bed and breakfast on the outskirts of the city, you find pleasure in rising each morning to tend to your guests but behind closed doors and within the shadows, you are the covenant leader to a group of young vampires who have claimed you as their mate.More often than not, your day is brimming with a mix of daily chores and back door deals that ensure the survival of your covenant. However, everything changes when three werewolves come stumbling into your life, all three of them claiming it was your scent that drew them closer as the words true mate ring into the silence.

testosterone boys @kiwiscript

summary: A little end of the year party tradition gets taken too far.

operation love letters @ve1vetyoongi

summary: When every student on campus is going crazy about a survey that claims to make true love bloom, your best friend manages to convince you to join in on the fun — except you’re disappointed to find out that your results just seem to be lost causes. That is until a love letter from a mysterious secret admirer turns up and you find yourself on a mission to find the person behind the pen — but you quickly realise it’s going to be a lot harder than you initially thought when you have 7 possible bachelors to investigate, right? Operation: Love Letters a-go!

our princess @iridescentjin

summary: In your newly established poly relationship, you are intimate with both Taehyung and Seokjin at the same time for the first time.

#fic recs #fic recs 2020 #fic recs masterlist #jjungkookislife fic recs #jjungkookislife fic recs masterlist

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takuyakistall · 4 years ago

Text

tuna | anniversary special

Synopsis: A normal day in Yuu's new life in NRC but, somehow, today made them feel a little bit nostalgic.

Notes: I wanted to write something for Twisted Wonderland's anniversary! This game really means so much to me and I don't think I would've picked up writing again if I didn't stumble upon it. Something about Grim and Yuu's relationship makes me emotional and the fact that Grim got a new card in the game didn't help me cope at all. I ended up writing this fic as a result, this is just purely fluff! (I think) I hope you guys like this.

The smell of charred coal and an oily can of tuna greeted Yuu's nostrils as they stirred awake, grumbling incoherent words as their eyes adjusted to the sudden sunlight entering their room through the window. It was almost peaceful.

Almost.

Had it not been for Grim feasting on his tuna noisily and messily. Yuu sighed as they stood up from their bed and began to arrange it—folding the sheets, dusting the pillows and set them aside neatly. The creaking of the floorboards with each step they took used to unnerve them, afraid that it might give in one day but Yuu learned to get used to it. Though sometimes they can't help but worry for the day when it actually gives in. Maybe they could ask Headmaster Crowley before that happens?

Yuu shook their head and dismissed the thought. The last thing they wanted to hear was Crowley spouting nonsense all over again and then disappearing without a trace. Judging from all the times Crowley has let them down, who's to say that he won't do it again? They pulled out the wooden chair placed by the table and scrunched their face when they saw how Grim was eating.

"You're making a mess everywhere!" Yuu scolded, trying to snatch the tuna can from his hands (paws?) before he could knock the other stuff down on the table. Grim didn't bother refuting as he sat back lazily on the chair, a satisfied grin on his face.

"Mhm... That was delicious~!" Grim let out a merry sigh. The breakfast he'd been used to everyday wasn't something he would look forward to or enjoy. Living in an abandoned dorm meant that no one else was there to cook for them but theirselves and there was no way Yuu was letting the ghosts handle the cooking. As a result, most of their meals were either bland or too little in terms of portions—Crowley wasn't one to ensure these types of things so that's one more thing Yuu adds to the list of 'Why I don't like the Headmaster'.

So when Grim found a can of tuna lying around somewhere, he didn't waste a second to grab the golden opportunity in front of him. Though there was one tiny little problem with what Grim did.

Yuu got that for their breakfast today.

Together.

And much to their misfortune and Grim's doom, the can was empty. Yuu had to pause for a moment to process the sudden discovery—Grim ate all of the tuna. They had to clench their fist tightly so as to not grab the ribbon tied around Grim's neck and shake him like a pepper shaker. Grim was blissfully unaware of the way Yuu was giving him glares that could kill and continued to relish himself in his euphoria. Though that was short-lived when Yuu decided to open their mouth, gentle anger lacing their voice.

"Grim. Did you eat all of the tuna?" They crossed their arms across their chest, a perfect close eyed smile on their face as they tilted their head slightly when they questioned Grim. He froze for a moment, eyes widening and his lips slightly twitching as Yuu furrowed their eyebrows. Clearly, they saw how the sudden realization hit the raccoon-cat (or whatever he was) and how nervous he became. He needs to think of an excuse—fast.

"A-Ah! About this…" Grim started, throwing his paws around in the air, making out incomprehensible gestures. Though before they could hear his explanation, an important thought crossed over Yuu's mind and they felt their blood run cold.

"Hey… Grim. What time is it?" They didn't wait for a reply, feet already scrambling towards their closet as they vigorously looked for a clean uniform. Grim held a confused expression.

"Eh, time? Isn't it…"

"Grim you idiot! We're bloody late!"

"F'nya!! Why didn't ya tell me sooner!?"

"Oh so now it's my fault? You're the one who didn't wake me up!"

"Professor Trein is going to be so mad…"

"Just shut up and start walking!"

Both of them dashed out from Ramshackle, the doorknob at the entrance getting slightly jammed so Yuu had no choice but to break the rickety door down. Not that it was difficult though, burglars could've easily killed them during their sleep—that is, if people even manage to climb a whole mountain to bother stealing from them. They'll just have to explain the door incident to Headmaster Crowley as well later. That is, if they manage to talk to him at all.

But, for now, the only thing stuck in their heads was to run as fast as they can or else it was off with their heads!

“You’re late.” Their teacher, Professor Mozus Trein, spoke in a cold tone. Gingerly stroking his cat’s head as it purred but that didn't give Yuu and Grim any ease at all when they stood there, unmoving, at the classroom entrance. Yuu tried to keep a neutral expression, hands at their side and feet together. Grim, on the other hand, wasn’t doing so well with doing the same as Yuu. He had trouble standing straight on two legs so he decided to climb up Yuu’s back to their shoulder and stayed there.

The sudden shift in weight on one of their shoulders made them grimace slightly.

“Good morning, Professor. Please excuse my tardiness, it won’t happen again.” Yuu bowed slightly, hoping that this would all be over quickly and he would let them go to their respective chairs. They straightened their back, looking at Trein directly before he gave them a slight nod and returning his attention to the chalkboard in front.

Yuu and Grim let out a sigh of relief simultaneously as they quickly went to their respective seats with Grim hopping off Yuu’s shoulder. He grabbed a bunch of books from Yuu’s bag to stack them up. Sitting on it since he wasn’t tall enough to see on his own without the desk obstructing his view.

Yuu caught the sight of Ace trying hard to keep in his laughter in the corner of their eye. They wondered for a moment about what Ace could possibly be laughing about until they heard Grim snarl ever so slightly. As if a lightbulb suddenly popped up over Yuu’s head, it suddenly clicked all too well.

He was laughing at them.

Although Yuu didn’t particularly mind being laughed at by that clown, Ace Trappola, Grim didn’t share the same sentiment. They had to hold back Grim’s tail to stop him from throwing a fit during class—it was a good thing Professor Trein had his back turned or else they’d be in bigger trouble.

A few minutes into class and Yuu could already feel their head explode. Coming from a completely different world than Twisted Wonderland, there was no doubt that they were going to have difficulty understanding things from here. While History of Magic was indeed an interesting subject, Yuu couldn’t help but feel the need to pull their hair out when they saw what Professor Trein was writing on the board.

‘Those symbols… am I supposed to know them? This looks more like a summoning circle more than anything, how am I supposed to understand this?’

They slapped their forehead repeatedly and forced theirselves to stare at the board once more—hoping that staring at it for a while would miraculously make them understand whatever that is. Grim, on the other hand, looked like he was boding well—looking so studious and listening attentively. But the moment he picked up a pen, that’s when the image was ruined. Yuu had to stifle their laughter when they saw him struggle to write on paper.

While it was a bit mean to laugh at him, Yuu couldn’t deny the fact that the drastic change was hilarious.

“Yuu, is there something you’d like to share with the class?” Professor Trein suddenly called out their name. Their back straightened and their gaze immediately snapped to the teacher in front. It seems like the Professor was paying more attention to Yuu.

Someone in the classroom let out a snort. Small, but audible for it to be heard by everyone in the dead silent classroom.

“Ace Trappola, do you have something to say as well?”

Ace stood up almost immediately.

“N-Nothing, Professor!”

Yuu was a tiny bit glad that Ace slipped up. At least they won’t be alone when Professor Trein decides to punish them. They shot a mischievous look at Ace, sticking their tongue out that screams: Serves you right!

“Dismissed.” With one single word from Trein, the class burst into a series of relieved sighs and yawns—a few ones groaning here and there but they were eventually glared at by the Professor and his poofy cat. Ace sluggishly walked towards Yuu and Grim with Deuce, who looked as fresh as ever, following behind.

“Hey, did you get everything Professor Trein said? Today’s class was sooo boring.” Ace whined, crossing his arms over his chest as he asked his three friends.

“Nope.” Yuu answered truthfully as they put back their pen into their case.

“Not at all…” Deuce closed his eyes and clutched his forehead.

“Hmph! Of course I did, I even took down notes.” Grim was proud as he puffed out his chest. Ace’s eyes perked up for a moment, wondering if he would let him view his notes until a sudden realization struck him. He wouldn’t be able to decipher Grim’s terrible handwriting in the first place. His expression slowly turned into one of disappointment—something akin to the feeling of finding out your name wasn’t in the Top 50.

Deuce was the first to comment. “These are….. Notes?”

“Grr! What’s that supposed to mean!?”

“It looks like a bunch of scribbles made by a cat.” Yuu added. Grim was about to be fuming mad until his ears drooped down slightly, Yuu felt a pang hit their chest. Could they possibly be feeling bad?

“Well… I’ll give you an A for effort.” Yuu patted Grim’s head, hoping that they didn’t hurt his feelings too much after that comment. Instead of lifting his spirits up, Grim felt like his soul got crushed. He felt like Yuu pitied him more than actual commendation, but he won’t say anything. He’ll take the crumbs of praise he can get.

Ace straightened up and walked towards the exit, dragging his legs slightly as he called out his friends. “Oi! Let’s go have lunch already, I’m starving!”

“Coming!” Deuce replied before promptly poking Yuu’s shoulder to make sure that they heard Ace.

“Alright, alright. Give me a minute to fix all my stuff, you guys can go ahead.” Grim stared at Yuu, wondering who should he go with—Yuu or Ace and Deuce? He was going to accompany the Heartslabyul Duo until he remembered how Yuu didn’t get to eat breakfast because of him.

He felt a little bit bad for leaving them like this.

He opened his mouth to say that he’s going to stay with Yuu until they suddenly cut into his thoughts like a knife into butter.

“Grim, you can go ahead too. Save a seat for me while you’re at it.”

“Are ya sure?” Grim asked them for reassurance.

“...? Are you going to miss me or something?” Yuu teased.

“No way! Nevermind, I’m leaving!”

Yuu watched as the Ace, Deuce, and Grim exited the door before letting their smile drop into a frown. They wondered if today was an okay date to ask the Headmaster about progress on the whole ‘find Yuu a way back home’ thing. But, there was a possibility that their visit to his office will be all for naught. Crowley was someone unpredictable, after all—eccentric is another way to put it nicely.

They tapped their fingers against the desk rhythmically. Dozens of thoughts running inside their head. The chatter outside the classroom cutting their train of thoughts continuously which annoyed them to death but it was something they took comfort in. The nostalgic noises of a bustling school filled with students going on and about.

It reminded them of their homeworld.

Yuu decided to look for Crowley as they stood up from their chair. A nostalgic bitterness lingering in their mouth as they left.

“Why did I think I would find him today?” Yuu asked no one in particular. Eyes glued to the wall clock as they counted the minutes they had left before break ended and classes started again. They silently dwelled on their regret of visiting Crowley’s office, it was nothing but a waste of time. Now they had less than 30 minutes to go into the cafeteria to get some food.

Each step they took was taxing. They put too much force with every one and perhaps that was a result of getting mad at a useless bird—their temper can’t help but explode a little bit. By the time Yuu arrived, they spotted the idiot trio sitting by the window. They had already finished eating long ago but they were still there. A thought popped into their head.

‘Could it be…? They were waiting for me!?’ Yuu knew it was nowhere near the truth but perhaps they can indulge theirself once in a while with these kinds of thoughts. Grim was the first to spot them.

“Where were you!? Break is almost over.” The grumble Yuu’s stomach let out made their cheeks heat up in embarrassment. Maybe it was because they skipped breakfast? Grim felt bad. This was his fault, wasn't it? Ace and Deuce urged Yuu to go buy something to eat but one look at the line formed by the counter, Yuu immediately declined. They’re going to be late for class if they waited!

Grim stared at the small portion of lunch he set aside for himself for later. Much to no one’s surprise, it was fish. He had a debate with himself—asking if he wanted to keep this or offer it to Yuu. In the end, he went for the latter. He nudged Yuu with his paw before holding up the plate with his two paws.

“Have this if you want… Ya didn’t get to eat breakfast because of me, right? I feel kinda bad but here.”

Ace’s eyes were wide in shock and Deuce dropped his yogurt. Yuu was flabbergasted at the sudden nice gesture Grim was showing but-

“Sorry, but I don’t want rabies.”

Grim had to resist the urge to set everything on fire. Yuu had to bite back a laugh when they saw how mad Grim was—denying everything about him having rabies. The troubles they had about Crowley were long gone and replaced by the bubbling happiness growing in their chest. The sight of their friends—Grim, Ace and Deuce—was enough to convince them to forget about it. Even if it’s just for a short while.

The nostalgic taste danced in the tip of their tongue once again. A sudden wave of sadness washing over them as they thought about the day when they’ll eventually go back to their own world.

I’ll miss this. Definitely.

They looked up to see Grim causing a mess with Ace holding him back and Deuce trying to summon another cauldron. Yuu shook their head.

But, for now, let’s focus on the present.

Is it so bad that Yuu wanted the incompetent headmaster to stay incompetent? Just for a little longer, don’t find a way back.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst writing #fanfic #self indulgent takoyaki #twisted wonderland grim #twst grim #ace trappola #deuce spade #twst ace #twst deuce #twisted wonderland ace #twisted wonderland deuce

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restlessfandoming · 4 years ago

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“the president and the troublemaker” (part 8) (chilumi fic)

“Lumine is the student council president and Childe is the school’s number one troublemaker. They cross paths more than they’d like. Especially when Childe finds out Lumine’s big secret. Highschool AU à la Kaichou wa Maid-sama.”

[part 1] [part 2] [part 3] [part 4] [part 5] [part 6] [part 7]

existence is a prison :’)

[Fic Masterlist] // [AO3 Link] // [Main AO3]

the president and the troublemaker (part 8)

Cross jab with your right arm.

Lumine lunged towards her opponent with her right arm.

Throwaway jab with your left.

As her opponent blocked her right arm, Lumine quickly threw her left arm out, forcing them to blink and react to the oncoming hit.

Follow the momentum.

Planting her left foot on the ground, she let the force of the punch swing her body around, then slammed her right foot into her opponent’s head.

And there you have a successful spinning heel kick.

Lumine let the air relax out of her body as the man crumpled to the floor, and the bells rang. The crowd around swelled into cheers as the referee held her hand up, signaling her victory. Her amber eyes roamed around the arena, noting all the audience reactions: the nods of approval, the tilting heads of curiosity, the quick Internet searches on phones—who is this girl?

She was starting to gain attention here in Snezhnaya, as her win rate at the moment was at an astounding 100% thus far. She had quickly gained the nickname “Abyss Princess” due to Kaeya’s “innocent” portrayal of her in his promotions, juxtaposed with her destructive lethality in the ring.

“You learn quick,” Childe said as Lumine walked into the locker room. “I only taught you that move once,” he added. “And yet you executed it perfectly.”

“That’s Lumine for you,” Aether said, handing her a towel and a water bottle. “Great job, as always, sis.” She nodded as she gratefully chugged the water down (purposefully ignoring Childe.)

Kaeya sauntered into the room shortly after, clapping slowly while a grin pulled at his lips. “I come bearing good news.”

“Free dinner?” Lumine guessed.

Aether nodded. “Seconded.”

“Even better.” Kaeya held up an official looking document. “Our little Lumine just got her first sponsor.”

Lumine almost dropped her water bottle. “No way!” She ran up to the blue haired captain. “Who is it?!”

Her manager looked down at the slip of paper in his hands. “A wealthy traveling merchant named Ivanovich.”

Lumine turned towards Aether excitedly. “A sponsor!”

“A sponsor!” he echoed as the two shared a hug.

“What does this mean now?” Lumine asked Kaeya.

“It means we get to celebrate!” He gave her a closed eye smile. “How about a little vacation?”

* * *

Wow.

Lumine audibly gasped as she stood atop the hill overlooking the beach before her.

Being from a poor family, she and Aether never got to travel much; it was the first time either of them had been to the beach (or really vacationed for that matter) and it did not disappoint.

The glowing sun reflected brilliantly off the vivid blue waves, the water lapping at the fine, white sand with various stations of colorful towels and umbrellas set up throughout the shore. Lumine smiled as she saw families running along the sand, playing volleyball, and children joyfully splashing in the water.

“So this is the beach,” Aether said in wonderment beside her.

Lumine nodded as the two of them both breathed in deep, taking in the scent of salty waves and warm summer air. “It’s more beautiful than I could’ve ever imagined,” she whispered.

“Is this your first time at the beach?” Kaeya asked the two of them. After the twins nodded, he smiled, and continued, “Well, I hope you two truly enjoy yourselves then.”

“I can’t remember the last time we could just relax like this,” Aether said as the trio made their way towards the beach house they were renting for the weekend.

Since she could remember, her whole life (Aether’s too) had been jam-packed with work or school obligations; it would be nice to get away from everything, even if just for a few days.

She let out a yawn as she opened the door to the house. “Let the relaxation begin...” She froze in the doorway as her eyes landed on Childe laying on the couch. “...now.”

The orange-haired troublemaker opened his eyes slightly, then sat up and stretched. “Took you guys long enough. I’ve been waiting all morning.”

Lumine hadn’t moved an inch. “...Why is Childe here?”

“Well, I had to invite your coach, didn’t I?” Kaeya answered. “I hope that’s alright.”

“Is there a problem, Lumi?” Aether asked, concerned.

Ever since the rooftop incident, Lumine had found herself...restless around Childe. After she had gotten home from studying at his place, she thought about it—really thought about it—and neither of them had mentioned the fact that he had kissed her.

Had it been a figment of her imagination? Was he just messing with her?

Romance wasn’t something she knew. She could read textbook after textbook, fight opponent after opponent, but love? She was completely in the dark.

And it wasn’t something she could casually discuss with Aether or her friends. Her friends knew nothing about her and Childe, and she was sure Aether would murder Childe on the spot if he knew anything romantic was happening between the delinquent and his beloved twin sister. As far as he knew, Childe and Lumine got along well as coach and student, and were friends as a result of that.

Like at the hospital, she got flustered around Childe. She absolutely hated it, because she couldn’t figure out how or why—she couldn’t control it. And she especially hated it because Childe seemed to relish in the fact that she seemed so affected by him.

The simplest things he would do—the slightest glance in her direction, a brush of the hands—sent her heart into a frenzy.

Do..Do I love him back?

Her throat went dry at that prospect.

I don’t know.

She didn’t know.

So, she had hoped that the trip would bring her some clarity after time away from Childe, and hoped that upon her return, things would go back to normal.

But here he stood in front of her.

“Lumi, is everything okay?” Aether repeated.

Lumine cleared her throat. “Yup, everything is fine.” She rushed towards the stairs. “I’ll be in my room.” And with that, she disappeared into the closest bedroom she could find, slamming the door shut.

We’re just friends, she told herself. He is your friend, and your coach.

She clenched her fists. It was most obviously a joke, right? Why else would he have done it, and not mention it ever again?

Lumine let out a maddening laugh. Yes, that’s exactly it. It’s just another scheme of his to cause trouble for me.

She looked out her window, at the sparkling sea just lengths away. Well, she wasn’t going to be bothered by it, or him, any longer. Not when she was on vacation at least.

She rifled through her duffle bag, pulling out a bikini, and slipping it on. It was simple, black, only decorated with minimal frills, but it was quite revealing (especially compared to her normal attire). It definitely wouldn’t have been Lumine’s first choice of swimwear, but it was one of the cheapest swimsuits she could find on short notice.

She took a deep breath in, already imagining how relaxing the cool beach waves would feel on her skin. Excited, she yanked her door open quickly—

Only to find Childe standing there, his hand outstretched as if he were about to open the door himself.

Lumine’s face fell. “What do you want?”

“I was just coming to check on you,” he said with a smile. Then his eyes trailed down to her attire, and his face fell as well. “What are you doing?”

Lumine crossed her arms. “Obviously about to go swimming.”

“In that?” he asked lowly.

Feeling the heat crawl up her back, she shook her head. Not going to let him affect me. “Yup. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” She started to push past him.

He reached out and grabbed her wrist, stopping her.

“Childe, what are you—”

He pulled her towards him, and then wrapped his arms around her waist, pinning her back against his chest. She felt a sharp twinge on her shoulder.

...

He was biting her. He was biting her.

Lumine gasped, and struggled out of his hold. When she finally broke free, she whipped around, her hand rubbing her shoulder. Childe’s blue eyes glinted at her as he used the back of his hand to wipe at his lips.

“What the hell are you doing?!” Lumine hissed. Her thumb traced over the ridges left behind by his teeth.

“You know, if you wear that,” Childe said simply, eyeing her swimsuit, “everyone’s going to ask about that bite mark on your shoulder.” An innocent smile. “You don’t really want that, now do you?”

Her jaw fell open and she ran back into her room, checking her shoulder in the mirror. Sure enough, the area he had bitten down on was blemished red, and only grew more and more noticeable as the seconds ticked by.

She turned towards Childe, who was leaning on the doorframe, her eyes bewildered. “Why would you—”

Aether and Kaeya’s voices travelled up the staircase. There were people coming. And she had a kiss mark for all the world to see.

She quickly grabbed a t-shirt from the clothes she had just changed out of, and yanked it over her head as her brother and her manager walked by.

Aether stopped, looking at her curiously. His eyes flickered to Childe as well. “Are you guys going swimming?”

“Yes!” Lumine answered quickly, shuffling out the door. Hopefully, the faster she got away, the less chance there was for Aether to realize something had happened.

“...In your t-shirt?” Aether asked.

Lumine shrugged, doing her best to act nonchalant. “I got a little cold.” She started running down the stairs. “Catch you guys later!”

WIthout looking back, she ran until she had reached the shore of the beach, then let out a long sigh of relief at finally being alone.

What in the absolute hell is wrong with Childe?

Her fingers ghosted over the bite mark once again, a fire burning in her core. Why had he done that? Wasn’t that something only lovers did to each other?

Lovers…

!!!

Lumine swore her head exploded, and was sure the rising steam would be visible from miles away.

She stomped down the shoreline, heels digging into the shifty sands, desperately trying to distract her thoughts.

Miraculously, her thoughts drowned out as she approached a bustling crowd gathering before her. The noise was instantly familiar—the cheers, whoops, and gasps of an ongoing fight. Raising an eyebrow, she made her way through the people, until she was at the front line.

In the middle of the crowd, there was a large open space with three different circles—indicated by lines drawn in the sand—and within each circle were two people wrestling. Nearby each of the circles, a tall lifeguard chair stood, where a referee sat overlooking their respective match below.

Lumine turned to a stranger next to her, and asked what was going on.

“Oh, it’s the weekly beach wrestling competition!” they answered happily.

“A competition?” Lumine pondered for a second. An image of a free food voucher flashed in her mind. “...Are there any prizes?”

“Eh, most people just like to do it for fun,” the stranger said. “But if you win, you get all the earnings from entry fees!”

At the mention of money, Lumine instantly perked up. Not to mention tossing people around in the sand sounded like the perfect way to blow off some steam. “Where do you sign up?”

They looked at her curiously. “Right over there.” They gestured to a table set up underneath a makeshift awning. “But I should warn you: it’s usually an...all male competition, dear.”

Lumine was already waking away, stretching out her arms. Wrestling, huh? Not too different from what I do regularly, right?

As she passed the brawling rings, she took note of every competitor’s strengths, their statures—any information that would help her win in the near future. The stranger was right: there was no other female in sight, except as spectators.

And when Lumine walked over to sign up, there was a mix of reactions from those all around. Scrutiny, disbelief, doubt and arrogance—there’s no way she’s going to get far, right?

A smirk pulled at the corner of her lips.

Let’s prove them wrong.

* * *

Where did she go?

Childe squinted down the shore, eyes searching for that blonde head of hair. After Lumine had dashed out of the house, he decided to wait briefly before going after her. Of course he knew she was freaked out over what happened, but it had to be done.

One look at her attire, and his blood boiled over the thought of guys looking her up and down, innocence the furthest thing from their minds.

She was probably out there, kicking up a storm on the sandy shoreline, her head rattling with confusion at his actions. She was so endearingly naive about the intricacies of romance, as evidenced by her reaction to his confession of love, to which they had yet to discuss.

He wasn’t going to push it; he could always see the gears turning in her head when he showed any romantic interest towards her, and too much stimulation would probably overload her circuits. Not to mention the fact she would run away when confronting her feelings. But they would need to talk about it, eventually.

God, she was going to be the death of him.

He couldn’t quite put a finger on when he had realized he was actually in love with this short, tempered blonde, but when he did, it only made complete sense.

He wasn’t a stranger to romance. He knew he had the looks and the demeanor that just made girls gravitate to him, but he had never found interest in anyone. He just wanted to fight and train, train and fight—anything to get stronger and stronger.

But then that night.

Every so often, he would visit those illegal fighting rings, his interest only piqued for potential worthy opponents. Alberich’s ring was far out of the way, and he visited it rarely.

That night was the first time he had seen Outlander in the ring.

They had immediately grabbed his attention: the mask definitely showed they were hiding something. And that always made for an interesting fighter. They then proceeded to absolutely obliterate their opponent in the ring. An even more interesting fighter.

After the match, Childe made his way around the back, hoping to speak to this Outlander character. And the rest was history.

It had been the most enjoyable time of his life watching Lumine swap from the diligent student council president, to the powerful, bloodthirsty Outlander. Everything else she did—the way she carried herself, her resilience, her stubbornness, how her face softened when she was thanking him—everything else just pulled at his heart like nothing else ever had.

He really couldn’t bear to stay away.

Childe sighed, continuing his walk down the beach.

And he really couldn’t control himself around her.

A group of boys around his age jogged past him. He caught a few words they were saying as they passed: “hot,” “blonde,” “fighter.”

His jaw clenched, and he followed them closely as the sinking feeling grew in his gut.

The boys disappeared into a large, boisterous crowd, and Childe peered over the heads of spectators watching a wrestling match before them.

A flash of amber eyes and that gray t-shirt she had thrown on earlier; it was exactly as he suspected. Somewhere, somehow, even at the beach on vacation, Lumine was in the middle of a fight.

She was winning, but sloppily. Obviously, she was still affected by earlier. Sloppy moves would lead to defeat, and more importantly, injuries.

Time to step in.

Perhaps this was also a way to get through to her. A common tongue they both spoke.

He made his way over to the sign-up, paid his entrance fee, and stood before the printed brackets. He traced Lumine’s name, looking over the line of opponents he would need to beat to get to her.

He walked over to the queue of fighters. He started stretching his limbs, feeling the heat of the battle pool in his muscles.

Get ready, Lumine.

The crowd burst into cheers as Lumine pinned her opponent to the ground. As she stood, Childe saw her glowing grin split across her face. He smiled to himself as well.

Here I come.

* * *

[part 9]

#genshin impact #genshin childe #genshin lumine #childe #lumine #chilumi #fanfiction #fanfic #me

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aquitainequeen · 3 years ago

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All Is Bliss (Until Someone Loses An Eye): Chapter One: This Is A Glorious Day/Nightmare; Strike Out As Appropriate

Special thanks to @fairy-anon-godmother and @yototothelalafell for being rubber ducks to my rant about this chapter, and to @ellynneversweet for so kindly reading it through several times as it hinged on completion!

(Previous Chapter)

When Vlad closes the doors behind Marial, that’s when Catharine asks her, ‘The Sun Summoner. Is she the real thing, or a fake?’

Marial halts so quickly that the items on the breakfast tray rattle. ‘Really? You’re asking me this?’

‘’Well, yes. Of course.’

Marial sets down the tray and promptly starts raiding it. ‘Real. Kirigan wouldn’t have any part of this if she were a fraud, and he would’ve tested her the moment she was brought before him. She’s real.’

So: Yes, yes, yes! Catherine finally releases all the bubbling joy and it’s flowing everywhere like sparkling wine foaming out of her glass . It’s like the time when she was lording it over Angelique about going to the East to be Empress; it’s the moment she went to her knees and first kissed the ground of East Ravka, greeting it, marrying it. Saints, saints, thanks to you all, how you love me!

What to say, how to say it? Upon this cornerstone she’ll build her claim. ‘The Sun Summoner. Ravka’s shining blazing hope, rising to banish the darkness and the divide in our beautiful land.’ Catherine thumps her clenched first against her breast, that will be most affecting. ‘So soon after I crossed the Fold from West to East, the Sun Summoner rose up to help me light the path ahead, for Ravka and my people —’

‘Who are you talking to?’ Marial says through a mouth full of soft cheese, lounging against the settee. It does not bode well for future speeches.

Nonetheless, Catherine persists: ‘Practising. For when the time is ripe. This is an auspicious beginning for my journey to true power. Ravka’s saviours have emerged together to free our land and our people from tyranny and shadow.’

‘Maybe get some food in you, before you go any further with the speechmaking and the grand plans?’

Impudent; but, Marial is right. This is going to need a full belly and some careful thought. She will have so many blinis with sweetened soured clotted cream and jam, oh, and some tea filled with more jam, sweetness galore!

Marial sticks with the cheese and a plain cup of tea. ‘What did Kirigan say about her? In his letter?’

‘Apparently not much; Orlo says he likely dashed it off before starting back to Os Alta from the Fold. He’s sent the Sun Summoner ahead of him, heavily guarded. Her name’s Alina Starkova, isn’t that just so perfect? She’s young, she’s a cartographer in the First Army. Or,’ Catherine’s throat twitches, a gulp of tea to moisten it up, ‘she was a cartographer. She’ll never have to sketch a map again.’

‘So…’ Marial makes Catherine wait while she takes her own sip of tea. ‘The Sun Summoner just happens to emerge, right at this point, after escaping notice in the First Army for years?’

‘Evidently. What about it?’

Marial fusses with her cup. ‘Seems a bit convenient. How was she able to go without being discovered for so long?’

‘By the Grisha testers?’

‘They test every child in Ravka. Every child. How did they miss her? How did she hide her powers for so long?’

Catherine swallows more of her tea and her why does it matter? because clearly Marial thinks it does and if she’s going to be Empress in her own right, she needs to start thinking beyond the first flush of joy, the fantasy of a storybook romance and a cute pet bear. ‘Maybe she wasn’t tested. There are so many people in East Ravka and the records are shoddy, some people are bound to slip through the cracks.’ Not that this will happen in the future. When she is in power there will be bread, freedom and security for all, never mind what Marial and Orlo say, and all voices will be heard.

Marial sits on the chaise’s arm. ‘And she’s never shown her powers before now? The baby Grisha in the Little Palace are always losing their tempers and causing uproar. One of them killed a man by accident, once, right in front of me.’

‘You’re not serious.’

‘I’m absolutely serious. Though admittedly Count Kireyev was an absolute cunt, and the Emperor thought it was hilarious, so all was forgiven.’

Catherine is not going to ask what exactly happened to the cuntish Count Kireyev , if Peter of all people found it amusing. ‘Well. If she couldn’t control her powers, then she would have been found before now.’ She twists about in her seat and manages to catch and hold Marial’s eye. ‘And if you’re suggesting she’s a spy, then she wouldn’t have survived in Fjerda and in Kerch they’d have enslaved her.’

‘Granted. What do you think she’s like?’ The last question is a little less sour and more intrigued, so it deserves some consideration.

Cuddling into cushions, Catherine licks up jam and thinks. All those old performances of Sun Summoner plays from her girlhood, before the independence movement began stirring and they fell out of fashion. A girl in yellow, fighting and bashing other dancers in black, and now the story those girls performed has stepped out of myths and legends! It’s all too much! What’s most important now?

‘She will be… tall. Golden haired,’ as she tucks her hair strand back in place and takes up her cup again. ‘Graceful...polite, delicate, refined, poised, punctual.’

‘Did you get that from another one of your books? What was it on, deportment?’

‘From my mother. She gave me a grand speech about how I should make myself pleasing to my husband. She said they were the ideal qualities of a perfect wife.’

Catherine could picture her mother’s face. She could imagine her standing tall, golden and graceful, refined and poised, splendid and outshining her scant finery. She’d rather fantasize about grabbing her mother, shaking her, knocking her to the ground, getting in her face and screaming what were you thinking to send me here, to him, so unprepared; did you know, did you know what he was?

Best just to focus on the bright sunshine coming through the window, and to sip her tea.

They both chew and swallow several times before Marial speaks again: ‘If the Sun Summoner’s from the First Army, she’ll likely be none of what you just mentioned. Chances are she’s a foul mouthed, filthy peasant, with mud coloured hair underneath all the dirt. You really want to ally yourself with something like that?’

Marial’s only being her usual sour and snarkish self, true, but Catherine bites down hard on I’m allied with you right now, aren’t I? Marial might technically be all of those things at this very point in time (save the filthiness) but Catherine herself is not one of the bitchy court ladies. Though, need Marial be so sour and snarkish about everything again?

‘Of course I do. And why are you so determined to be gloomy, when a new hope has dawned over Ravka?’

‘Gloom is my refuge, Empress. A servant has no right to react, even to the country’s salvation.’

Catherine’s fingers are sticky from the jam, but Marial needs a hand on her wrist to shake her out of staring at nothing and her desolation, right now. ‘You’re not going to be a servant for much longer, Marial. Don’t let it grind you down.’

Marial smiles all sharp. ‘I’m already placing my hope in you, Empress. Placing it in the Sun Summoner as well is deadly. Hope’s such a dangerous thing.’ And she’s keeping her hand limp in Catherine’s, like a loose glove filled with long stones, too wary to grasp.

‘I will kill Peter. And you will be free.’ Catherine tears off a bit of blini with her teeth, just to prove her point, and it does get Marial smiling a little softer!

That’s enough touching, now; time to let Marial go, time to be Empress again. ‘And if Alina Starkova has served in the First Army, she’s no doubt brave, noble, bold, courteous and devoted to her mother country.’

‘No doubt. Have you ever spoken to one of the First Army’s soldiers, Empress?’

‘No?’

‘Then you’re in for a treat.’

Catherine sniffs and looks back to the window, the sunshine quite lovely on her cheeks. ‘Alina Starkova will also naturally be tender, compassionate and joyous.’

‘That I do doubt. It’s been a long war, Empress, and no one has gotten much joy from it, save the Emperor.’

‘Then that is one more thing I will have to remedy, when I take the throne. I should make some notes. Where’s the paper? This is a glorious day.’

***

‘This is a fucking nightmare.’ Thus, Orlo opens their latest council of war. It is not glorious.

‘Orlo, not you too! She’ll banish the Fold, she’ll help me reunite Ravka.’ And when Orlo raises a finger to try and cut in or tell her to just wait a moment while he waffles on, Catherine only says louder, ‘In what way, pray tell, is this a nightmare?’

‘It’s!’ Orlo actually seems close to panicking; listen, listen. It must be important. ‘It’s not the Sun Summoner, that’s actually very good. But I hoped we’d have months. I thought you would be far more established at court by the time Kirigan got back, you would have been able to meet him fully secured in your role. Right now Peter’s only barely been persuaded out of killing you, the Apparat’s support is fleeting, all the court ladies are wary of you, and the Little Palace thinks you’re an utter joke.’

Well. Hardly a pleasant thing to hear, but regrettably true for his first three points. Marial gets there before Catherine when it comes to the fourth: ‘How the fuck do you know what they’re saying about her in the Little Palace?’

Orlo clearly already regrets everything. ‘I. Well. I have a few acquaintances there.’

‘What kind of acquaintances? Is it a Heartrender? Big, beefy Heartrender? I can see the appeal; the best ones can make you come without even touching you.’ Marial tries her best to bring her lips to Orlo’s ear as he tries his best to get away. ‘Multiple. Times.’

‘Fuck’s sake!’ Orlo decamps to a place of greater safety, so Marial gets the whole of the settee to lounge upon. ‘I have to discuss aspects of Peter’s policy with Kirigan’s delegates on occasion. You know, my job.’

‘Oh, disappointing. Once again I’m reminded just how boring a life you lead.’

Once Marial shuts up, Catherine can finally get her word in. ‘So, wait, you actually talk to the Grisha, Orlo?

They stare at her like she’s a pet bear.

‘Well, yes. Of course. If we wish.’

‘They can even talk back, if they wish. They’re not servants.' Marial stands up all of a sudden at that, just in case someone bursts in and catches her lounging.

‘Do you not talk to them? Empress?’ This from Orlo, beginning to look most worried. Is Catherine the cause of that? She can’t lose him now! What does he want her to say?

‘Our estate wasn’t near enough to the border, or wealthy enough, to merit one being in residence. And any children on our land who were discovered were sent to the Little Palace right away. The first time I ever saw a Grisha up close was during the journey through the Fold, and then I wasn’t allowed to talk to them for fear they’d get distracted and we’d all die with the Volcra chewing our guts.’

They all nod. Indeed, something to be avoided at all costs.

‘And then I saw some of them were at the wedding banquet, but none of them got near enough.’

‘Empress, may I just ask –’ No, no! Orlo is worried by her now. By what she’ll say. What did she do wrong? ‘What are your attitudes towards the Grisha?’

Careful, careful. ‘How do you mean?’

Marial, casting her eyes up in thought: ‘Well, let’s see; do you think they’re demons walking around in human skins and devoid of souls?’

‘What? No!’

‘There, you see?’ Marial ignores Catherine to look at Orlo. ‘Already she’s doing better than the Church.’

‘Oh saints, do people here actually still believe that?’

‘A few.’ Marial considers. ‘Mmm, more than a few. Most of the peasants. Some of the more devout and stupid nobles. The Apparat, on his bad days.’ She spots Catherine’s face and grimaces. ‘Yeah, he and Kirigan don’t really get along.’’

This from Orlo, clasping his hands like he’s ready to rub them in glee — not worried now, is he?! ‘What is your position on the rise of indentured servitude inflicted upon the Grisha in Kerch, and particularly Ketterdam?’

‘Abominable, of course!’

Orlo hisses Yes! and pumps his fist. ‘And if Kirigan should ask what you think of the fact that General Zlatan’s likely turning a blind eye to Fjerda raiding West Ravkan ports, and abducting Grisha?’

Catherine bites down hard on He’s fucking doing what? because she isn’t talking to Orlo now, this is merely a prompt for when she will be speaking to Kirigan, who will be judging her and cannot find her wanting when it comes to the Second Army, his army, her army. ‘I would say that — that Zlatan is a fool and a traitor towards Ravka, to not only let her subjects be captured and slaughtered by her enemies, but to actually permit it.’

‘All right. That’s wonderful! Oh saints, that’s such a relief.’ Orlo almost falls into a chair, takes off his glasses and rubs away the sweat.

While he recovers, Catherine turns to Marial. ‘I just thought, because Peter was the only one to speak to them at the banquet, no one else was of high enough rank? Or we both are, as Emperor and Empress. But the nobility can talk to them as well?’

Marial shrugs. ‘Even we servants can; but, that’s the thing. You can, but why would you want to?’

Catherine meets Orlo’s eye. Once more she feels his kindred spirit, how he pleads with all his soul for her to deliver him from this uneducated hellhole, he hates it here too.

‘Aside from the fact that I need to get the Second Army on my side, why would you not want to? When they practise the Small Science? When their existence so thoroughly shapes and affects the universe, and they have fought so hard to protect Ravka against her enemies?!’

Marial, she who has no romance in her soul, snorts. ‘Again, watched a baby Grisha kill a man before my very eyes. And they’re all arrogant pricks.’

‘Which you clearly have plenty of experience with.’ Orlo stands and twists out of reach of Marial, snarling and trying to land a blow on his arm. ‘The Grisha rarely come to the Grand Palace save on official business, and non-Grisha are only welcome in the Little Palace by special invitation. I was hoping we’d have a chance to improve your reputation with the Grisha, before Kirigan returned; I know certain of them will have written to him about your — ’

He gestures helplessly at the entirety of Catherine. ‘Your everything.’

‘But now he’ll return to find me with a husband who barely tolerates me. A court that hates me.’ Strange, that Catherine only really starts thinking of the Black General himself when he’s opposed to her, rather than serving her. She should be terrified. Should she be terrified?

‘He’ll judge you, and – forgive me, Empress, but he’ll find you wanting. And you’ll be a weakling in his eyes forever. He might not be able to fob off Peter, but he’ll never allow you to touch the Sun Summoner’s train if he deems you worthless.’

Think of being the object of disdain, for a man like that! Enough to make one shrivel and die. But if she’s going to be Empress she cannot be afraid of anything. She especially can’t be jumping at, hah, at shadows. Not when the sunlight is so warm on her hair and skin, even through a window and her gown.

Marial breaks the silence in her own special way. ‘Besides which, he’ll be inclined to fuck you over regardless, since he can’t get at General Zlatan.’

Ah. Zlatan. Of course he would still be cocking things up for her, even on this side of the Fold. ‘Zlatan protested my betrothal at every turn, and I shall see him dealt with. But why would Kirigan hate me, if my marriage unifies Ravka?’

‘Therein lies the problem-’ This from Orlo, palms facing upwards and empty- ‘-he dearly wants West Ravka brought back into the Emperor’s bosom-'

‘Brought to heel, ‘ Marial mutters.

‘-but not at the expense of the East. Peter’s already far too obsessed with the West and western thinking for Kirigan’s liking as it is. He’ll worry that you’ve brought dangerous ideas to court that could threaten his position.’

‘Plus his Little Palace and his army.’

Orlo nods agreement with Marial. ‘The General is a most fervent protector of the Second Army and the Grisha. When the search for Peter’s bride moved to West Ravka, Kirigan did voice his concerns about an Empress with western attitudes towards Grisha.’

Frankly, Catherine’s flattered that Kirigan might think her attitude has any weight whatsoever right now; and more flattered Orlo believes that Kirigan would think it. ‘His concern is misplaced. All people of Ravka are my children, West and East, Grisha and non-Grisha alike. Every Ravkan child has the right to live without fear, in the knowledge that Mother Ravka is their staunchest defender.’

Marial groans — she actually rolls her eyes, the cow. ‘Pretty words, but he’s heard such things a thousand times before, signifying nothing. You’ll need to back up all your grand speeches.’

Catherine marches over to the table so that she can at least finish her bloody breakfast. ‘Fine. Then how am I to do that, if he’s apt to “fuck me over ” rather than listen to me?’

‘Marial’s being ridiculous; there would be no fucking.’ Orlo pauses, distracted, and shudders like a startled horse. ‘And you do have some advantages — the chief being that you aren’t Peter.’

‘That is not the least bit encouraging, Orlo.’ Catherine bites into the last blini, looking him dead in the eye and chewing hard.

‘I meant that Kirigan’s known Peter for nearly all of his life, and any hopes he had for him are thoroughly burned. You, now, are an entirely new and unknown factor. You can woo him with your ideas and plans. You need to show him that when you take the throne, you have the drive and capacity to bring about the change he desires.’

‘Right.’ Catherine nods, swallows, sets her best foot forward in her mind. ‘So. What exactly does he want?’

‘Basically, just promise him whatever he asks for when it comes to the Grisha, and you’ll have him eating out of your hand.’ Marial’s voice gets lighter as she stares off into the distance: ‘Maybe even eating from further down.’

What?

Orlo chimes in thank the saints. ‘Whatever he asks, within reason. Remember, it has to be believable. And you do not want Kirigan angry at you, if you fail to keep your promises right away when you come to power.’

Catherine waits for the terror to finally arrive. Think of one of the most dangerous men in Ravka, in the world, furious with her! And yet think, too, of making deals with the Black General, of being able to lure and hook and reel him in, of having the ability to grant his desires! ‘He’s the leader of the entire Second Army, he won’t be satisfied with small promises.’

‘All right then. Forget wooing him, try seducing him.’

Catherine glares at bloody Marial. ‘Two minutes ago, you were saying he’d gladly fuck me out of spite because he can’t get at Zlatan. Now you’re saying I should spread my legs for him? How is this in any way an improvement?’

‘This is quite different . Make him want to fuck you out of raw desire, as opposed to revenge by proxy.’

‘Yes, because that worked so well last time.’ And they both look at Orlo. Who looks at his shoes and also looks like he wishes to shrivel up and disappear, but he manages to squeak, ‘He’ll never go for it.’

‘Unlike some people around here, Kirigan actually knows what to do with a woman. And he has a definite taste for royalty.’

Not Peter. Don’t let it be Peter. Please, Sankt Valentin, don’t let her have to compete with her husband over another one of his bed mates.

‘Supposedly he was one of Elizabeth’s lovers for a time, back in the day.’

That…is marginally better. ‘Really?’ Somewhere behind Catherine, Orlo’s saying ‘oh saints’.

‘Oh, yeah. Sometimes when she’s more off her tits than usual, she says he ruined her for anyone else, no matter how she searches, and I do believe she’s serious. So, he must have left quite the impression.’

Which means Catherine might have to try and seduce the deadliest man in Ravka, who is also old enough to have swived her aunt-by-marriage in her girlhood…so, old enough to be her own father, at least. Saints. At least Peter’s young and easy on the eye, and he smells like something living. Plus Kirigan was able to satisfy Aunt Elizabeth; who knows what kind of bizarre tricks he’ll expect in bed, or against a wall? And she fucked it all up with just virgin Orlo, fuck.

Orlo breaks out of whatever had him so horrified and enthralled (likely also the act of satisfying Aunt Elizabeth) to say in desperation, ‘Why does she have to seduce anyone?’

Catherine suddenly might just love Orlo, though not enough to kiss him.

Marial hmms and nods. ‘That’s true. If you threw yourself at Kirigan right now, with how little you still know of sex, you’d just look utterly desperate.’

‘…as opposed to when I threw myself at Orlo?’

‘Orlo knows nothing of sex and was far more frightened of you than you were of him. The General, now, would either be amused or despise you, and we’d go right back to “being weak in his eyes for eternity”.’

‘Well.’ Her voice cracks, shit. Catherine swallows and tries again. ‘Well, first I must meet with him, and then I can decide if it is a route I will take. In due course.’

‘No, first you must decide on how to win back the approval of the ladies. Get your court in order before you start courting the armies!’

‘Fine; but, Orlo, I cannot lose sight of the Sun Summoner. I will not let Peter take the credit for her!’

‘I know, I know. We can plan for that, we’ll start right now, she’s not going to arrive for at least a few days yet. Where’s the paper?’

‘And there is this.’ Marial goes to tidy up the breakfast tray and clear the table for plotting purposes. ‘Kirigan’s going to hate sharing his big find with Peter and the Apparat. You’ll look like a saint incarnate when the Emperor starts screaming and throwing a tantrum.’

‘Indeed. Praise saints for once that I’m married to a fucking moron.’

(Next Chapter)

#shadow and bone fic #shadow and bone #the great #the great fic #catherine the great #count orlo #marial #the great hulu #hulu the great #cw language #fic: all is bliss #alina and Kirigan will be in the next one

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lalainajanes · 3 years ago

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For the square “water park” on my Klarosummerbingo card! Might be my worst title ever but it’s actually better than the original one so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Slip and Slide

Caroline speedwalks through the lobby, weaving around people who seem to think it’s the appropriate place for an early morning stroll. “Hold the elevator!” she calls, ignoring the few disgruntled looks she receives.

She hadn’t been that loud, and she’s nearly late for a critical meeting. It’s the first one with a new client, and she’d hate to make a bad first impression.

She’d had to head to the dry cleaners before work, had gotten caught in a traffic snarl in an area she wasn’t that familiar with, and it had taken her way too long to figure out the detour. She should have left her place earlier.

She gets to the security gates, juggling a garment bag, her briefcase, and a portfolio. Her ID seems to be just out of reach, and she jams her hand further into her purse. Albert, her favorite guard, murmurs, “Take a breath, Ms. Forbes.”

She blows one out, frustrated. Rolls her shoulders in an attempt to relax. “Sorry. I’m just…”

“Stressed? I can tell.”

Yikes. Caroline hopes that doesn’t mean her hair has exploded.

She smiles weakly, “Big day today.”

A brand new project, after the last one had been a disaster. Caroline’s comfortable with stress, thrives on high stakes, but she could totally use a win.

Her fingers touch the familiar edge of her badge, and she pulls it out triumphantly. She taps it on the sensor, walks through the revolving gate. “Good luck, Ms. Forbes,” Alfred murmurs as she passes.

It’s a little thing, but Caroline feels a little better knowing someone’s rooting for her.

She’s relieved to spot that one of the elevators is open, a man holding the door, his eyes on her. She doesn’t recognize him, but that doesn’t mean anything. The building has 55 floors, offices for more than two dozen companies within it. He’s dressed in a suit, like the vast majority of the men she sees in the building. His is nicer than most, charcoal grey, perfectly fitted, with a very subtle pinstripe that she only notices when she gets closer. Caroline hurries into the car gratefully. She leans forward, punches 32. “Thank you so much,” she says to him, turning so they’re shoulder to shoulder. “You’re a lifesaver.”

The man on her other side makes a noise, a tiny scoff. Caroline glances at him quizzically. He’s stoic, eyes forward, but she’s sure there’s a hint of amusement on his face.

An arm brushes against hers, drawing her attention. “Feel free to ignore him,” the man who’d held the elevator says. His voice is low, smooth and she’d be charmed by the accent if they’d met in a social situation.

Or any situation, if she’s honest.

“My brother would probably describe me as more of a troublemaker.”

Huh. She hadn’t have figured brothers. They’ve both got attractive and well-dressed going for them but little other familial resemblance. Caroline’s head swings back, “Are you a trouble maker?”

His amusement is plain. His full lips curl, and deep dimples appear in his cheeks.

Oh yeah. Definitely a trouble maker.

“I’m about twenty minutes early for my meeting today; how much of a trouble maker can I be?” His tone is playful, a touch too innocent to be believed.

Damn it. Caroline does not have time for an attractive man this morning. At least she hadn’t changed into the frumpier outfit in the garment bag. Hopefully, she’ll run into this guy again.

“I think I need more info. Could be a one-time thing. I’m almost late for my meeting, which is wildly out of character.”

“Not the trusting sort, are you?”

Caroline shrugs, raising her brows expectantly.

He laughs briefly, “Well, I did send an email ahead to inquire about the coffee preferences of the team I’m meeting. I’m stopping at one of the cafes to pick it up now. Would a troublemaker do that?”

“Hmm, maybe. Could be an underhanded tactic to get on a good side before the trouble starts.”

Dimples’ brother chimes in again, dry this time. “I believe your assistant sent that email. And that she learned the practice from my assistant.”

Dimples glowers, and Caroline must admit this is a delightful distraction from her anxiety. She glances up at the panel above the door and is disappointed to find they’re almost on her floor. “If you’re going to the café on 36, I recommend the oatmeal raisin cookies. Most people go chocolate chip. Trust me, that’s a mistake.”

The elevator pings, the doors sliding open. Caroline smiles, hitches her briefcase higher on her shoulder. “This is me. Thanks again.”

The receptionist spots Caroline, stands up, a sheaf of papers in her hands, and Caroline’s reminded about how much she has to do. She hurries out, her heels clicking across the shiny tiles of the lobby.

She still glances back at the elevator, can’t help smiling, pleased, when she finds her new friend from the elevator watching her as the doors close.

Even if she never sees him again, he’d made her morning a little brighter.

Now, though, it’s time to work.

* * * * *

Fifteen minutes later, Caroline’s pacing in her office. She’s pinned her hair back and changed into the purple pantsuit she’d picked up at the dry cleaners. It’s a great color but not the most flattering fit. The pants are fine, but the jacket’s boxy, and she’s wearing a plain pink blouse underneath, buttoned to her throat, a thick silver necklace threaded through the collar. There’s a pair of glasses perched on her nose, and she’d changed into sensible flats.

She’d learned her lesson last time, at the first meeting where she’d been the project lead. She’d been called ‘Honey’ and other more annoying pet names and asked to serve coffee and fetch snacks. She’d received skepticism when she’d introduced herself. By the end of that first meeting, Caroline had wanted to scream her credentials – a B.A. and a Master’s in Civil Engineering, a whole pile of certifications, several prestigious internships, and stellar work references, thank you very much – at most of the people in the room.

Ultimately, the project had been successful, but Caroline had experienced frequent bursts of frustration that bordered on rage. Her suggestions were met with questions that made it clear her intelligence was doubted, her corrections with condescension, even though she’d usually been the only one in the room with any significant scientific expertise.

Expertise that’s kind of crucial in designing a water park. It wouldn’t have been a good look, or a sound investment, if guests were to end up injured or dead after paying exorbitant ticket prices and expecting a fun day.

Her skin has thickened considerably, but Caroline hopes that’s less necessary this time. Her boss had assured her that this job would be easier, and Caroline’s choosing to believe her. It’s even potentially exciting – these clients own several international resorts, the park she’s pitching on will be built in Spain.

Being project leader, she’d traveled to oversee construction on the nightmare build, but Tennessee doesn’t carry quite the same appeal as the Spanish coast, at least from the photos Caroline’s seen.

At the very least, it can’t be a worse experience. She hopes.

She hears Katherine coming her way, takes a final deep breath before Kat breezes into her office. “What are you wearing?” Kat asks, sounding both mystified and vaguely disgusted. She pauses in front of Caroline, fingers pinching her lapel and tugging. “Is this polyester?”

“Maybe. I thrifted it.”

Katherine’s face twists in the sort of revulsion one would expect if Caroline confessed to grave robbing the ensemble.

“Ew, why?”

“Figured I needed a costume. To make sure that this time, no one in there thinks to call me ‘sweet cheeks.’”

She’d been paired with another designer last time, Matt Donovan, who was a nice enough guy but had been pretty useless in the having her back department. Caroline likely wouldn’t have cried into her Ben and Jerry’s quite so often had Katherine been her partner. Kat has the unique and impressive ability to make demands and issue orders and have people thank her for it.

Kat snorts, “Elijah Mikaelson would never. He’s aggressively polite. I haven’t spoken to him yet, but I doubt Niklaus would either. I assume he has the same hot accent.”

That’s a new name. Caroline doesn’t like surprises. “And who is Niklaus?”

“A brother. And a business partner. He wasn’t originally scheduled to be here but is unexpectedly in town. What do you think the British equivalent to sweet cheeks is?”

Caroline’s eyes go wide, a few puzzle pieces clicking together. British brothers, twenty minutes early for a meeting. What are the odds?

Crap. Had she been flirting with a client? In front of another client?

There’s a tap at the door, her boss’ assistant’s head poking in, “They’re ready for you in the conference room.”

Ugh. Maybe she’s cursed.

* * * * *

The presentation goes fantastically.

Katherine had been correct – the Mikaelsons don’t seem to labor under the misapprehension that a conventionally attractive blonde woman can’t grasp complex concepts. They’d shaken her hand when she’d arrived; Niklaus (or Klaus, as he apparently prefers) had looked a bit puzzled when they’d been introduced, Caroline had chalked that up to the outfit. He’d said it was nice to see her again. Explaining her mad dash to the elevator, and Klaus’ assistance, to the room had broken the ice nicely.

Kat kicks them off, and her design is gorgeous; Elijah and Klaus appear suitably impressed. When it’s Caroline’s turn, her nerves fall away by her second PowerPoint slide. She knows her stuff backward and forward, and she’s incredibly pleased with her innovation.

She also begins to feel less bad about the flirting once she sees that Kat throws Elijah a few looks that are borderline inappropriate for the office (that he seems pretty pleased with).

They ask questions, pour over the mock-ups and technical drawings Caroline and Katherine had prepared. Their ideas are actually good, which is a nice contrast for the last project. She’d done far too much lying and finessing to attempt to steer the previous park into a less terrible direction. The Mikaelsons have far fewer notes than Caroline had anticipated, and she promises to put together an update ASAP. They schedule another meeting.

She thinks Klaus’ handshake lingers when they say goodbye, but maybe she’s just riding high on adrenaline and imagining things.

She kind of hopes she isn’t. It’s probably too messy to date a client, but a girl can fantasize, can’t she?

Caroline helps herself to the cookie tray, pleased by the generous helping of oatmeal raisin she finds. Kat’s disappeared, but she knows their boss will want to debrief. Caroline collapses into one of the conference chairs, pulls out her phone to check her messages.

She replies to a few emails before she notices one that’s just arrived.

Hello Caroline,

I enjoyed your presentation today. I look forward to the next.

Warmly,

Klaus

She grins to herself, slumps lower in her chair. Clearly, she hadn’t imagined anything if Klaus is emailing her when he’s barely out of the building. She takes a risk and sends a slightly more casual reply than she’d usually attempt at this point.

If he reacts badly, she can up the formality later on. If he doesn’t, well… she’s only fostering a good working relationship. That’ll be essential if they land this contract.

And she’s like 90% sure it’s in the bag.

Hi Klaus,

Thank you!

The photos your team sent over of the location were gorgeous; both Kat and I were inspired. I think this is some of our best work to date. I’m excited to dive into the updates and meet again next week.

Best,

Caroline

P.S. Thanks for the cookies.

His reply comes minutes later.

Caroline,

I believe it. Your work is impressive, as I’m sure your new ideas will be. Have you ever been to Spain? The pictures hardly do it justice.

Warmly,

Klaus

P.S. You’re welcome. Which coffee order was yours?

Well, that’s the opposite of a bad reaction.

Caroline sets her phone aside, tells herself she has to be smart here. She’s reasonably sure she’s not doing anything that’s prohibited. The emails will speak for themselves, and they live on the company server. Neither she nor Klaus are offering anything untoward for the contract. If things go well, she may just have to fill out an HR disclosure form. She’ll double-check the firm’s code of conduct.

Just in case.

#klarosummerbingo #klaroline #klaroline fanfiction

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paterson-blue · 3 years ago

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Honey, You're Familiar (Like My Mirror Years Ago); Part 3

Part 3: The Date

Part 1 I Part 2 I Part 3 I Part 4 I Part 5

Summary: Things don't go exactly to plan. Clyde stresses.

Word Count: 4,010

Warnings: fluff, spice, grumpy Clyde Logan, pouty boy (but he's still in love), sentimentalism, sickly sweet pet names, smoochin', grindin', oral sex (male receiving), cum on body (not in!), original female character–let me know if I need to add anything else!

A/N: Thanks again to @paper-n-ashes for being my beta reader & quelling all my writing jitters. You're the absolute best!

Prefer AO3? I gotcha!

It’s a fuckin’ disaster.

Starts out nice. Juniper shows up on his doorstep wearin’ a slinky little black dress, one that shows off her curves and makes Clyde’s mouth go dry. She tells him he looks handsome and he feels giddy. He sweeps his newly styled hair out of his face, sayin’ she looks absolutely stunnin’. Juniper beams, grabs his hand, tells him they better get a move on ‘fore they’re late.

They’re late. They’re later than late.

They aren’ five minutes outta town when lightenin’ starts to streak across the sky. Clyde shifts uneasily, eyes cast upward towards the swirling heavens. It’s rainin’ cats and dogs in no time and Juniper has to slow to half the speed limit to drive safely. Clyde’s thoughts go to the river up ahead, the one the road crew was still tryna’ re-stabilize since the last storm flooded it.

Fifteen minutes from their destination and they have t’pull to a stop on the highway, suddenly blocked in a jam. Flashin’ red and blue lights indicate an accident up front, and while Clyde spares a thought to whoever was involved, he can’t help but check the time. They aren’ gonna make their reservation, he just knows it.

The car behind ‘em lays on its horn, the sound makin’ both Clyde & Juniper jump. The driver either doesn’ seem to understand the concept of bein’ stuck or plain just don’ care. Clyde clenches his jaw, glowerin’ into the rear view mirror—he can only see the driver’s silhouette behind the bright glow of the headlights. He’s keepin’ his cool until the driver reaches his arm out, in the pourin’ rain an’ all, just t’give Juniper the finger.

Clyde’s unbucklin’ his belt quick as can be, chest heavin’ as he reaches for the door handle. He’s ‘bout ready to stomp to the car and yank the man out.Teach ‘im a lesson on manners, teach ‘im t’treat a lady like—

“Clyde.” Juniper stops him in his tracks with just his name on her lips. He looks over at her from under his hair, expression tense. She reaches up to caress his cheek, holdin’ his face in her little palm so sweetly, thumb brushin’ over the sharp line of his jaw. “Leave him be. It’s not worth gettin’ into trouble.”

Clyde deflates, honey brown eyes downcast. He sounds miserable when he speaks. “… We’re gonna miss dinner.”

“I know, sugar. It’s okay.”

His heart flutters in his broad chest despite his distress. She’d called him ‘sugar.’ He likes that; wants to hear it again real soon.

By the time they get through all the traffic and make it to the restaurant, their reservation is indeed gone, table havin’ been given away. They stand together just outside the building, under the little awning in an attempt to stay out of the rain.

Clyde huffs, so morose that he’s unable to enjoy the way she was pressed up against his side. “M’sorry.”

Juniper frowns, reachin’ up to pat his stomach gently. “You stop that. You haven’t done anything to be sorry for.”

Clyde shakes his head sadly, heavin’ out a sigh. “It’s the Logan Family Curse.”

She looks up at him, brows arched, her hand still settled on his belly. “Oh is it now?”

He nods, brows pinched together. Juniper reaches for his hand, pulling it to her lips and pressin’ a kiss to his knuckles. “You aren’t cursed, Clyde Logan. And if you are, I’m perfectly happy to be cursed right along with you.”

Clyde doesn’ quite know how to respond to that, but luckily, he doesn’t have to right away. Juniper moves her lips to the pads of his large fingers, kissin’ ‘em gently before lettin’ him pull his hand away. Clyde cradles her pretty face in his palm, takin’ the time to admire her. Finally, he speaks. “Thank you, darlin’. That’s mighty nice of you t’say.”

Juniper nuzzles into his touch, sighin’ happily; it makes Clyde feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

“I’m only saying what’s true. Now c’mon. I know it’s a Friday night but there’s bound to be somewhere we can eat.”

They end up findin’ an old fashioned drive-in burger place, somewhere they can park and eat in the car out of the rain. It’s not where Clyde wants to take her; she deserves to be wined and dined all proper, not greasy burgers and milkshakes. But Juniper doesn’ seem to mind; as soon as they’re parked she’s squintin’ up at the menu, a big smile on her face.

“This all sounds so fucking good.” She giggles, lookin’ over at him. It makes the disappointment in Clyde’s chest fade away, and he leans over the center console to peer out the window to see what choices they were offered. It puts him in her space, and Juniper leans in to press a gentle kiss to his temple. He blushes, his cheeks only getttin’ hotter when she brushes some of his hair out of his face. He desperately wants to kiss her but he doesn’ know if it’s the right time.

He’s finally acceptin’ the night’s change of plans—finally acceptin’ that this might be good, burgers and fries while dressed up nice, watchin’ the rain pour from the safety of Juniper’s little Corolla—when the carhop comes out to tend to them. Clyde’s already diggin’ into his wallet as Juniper rattles off their order; he holds his debit card out, arm reachin’ over Juniper’s lap.

The carhop doesn’ move for the card. Instead, they say “Card machine’s down. Cash only.” in what Clyde thinks is possibly the most bored tone they could muster. He tries not to bristle as he fumbles with his wallet for a second time, patience already worn thin from the night’s events. He’s only got a fifty in his billfold. The fifty.

Their fifty.

He hesitates, even though he knows it’s irrational; Jimmy always did tell him he was too damn sentimental for his own good. Juniper must realize—she always does, Clyde never seems to have to explain himself to her—because she grabs her purse from the floorboard. Clyde stops her, shakin’ his head as he tugs the fifty dollar bill out. “S’alright, darlin’. Y’told me t’save it for a rainy day.”

Juniper’s face softens at his words, and Clyde hands the money over to the carhop, who looks like they want to be literally anywhere else. Soon Clyde’s been given his change, and he quickly puts it back up. As soon as he’s done Juniper’s reachin’ for him, pullin’ him in by his collar. Clyde goes willingly, twistin’ in his seat to move his prosthetic to the middle of her back, arm wrapped around her.

“I’ll give you another one.” She tells him firmly, and Clyde huffs out a laugh.

“Well that’d be awful silly of ya, Junebug. You’ll run outta money real quick if y’keep givin’ it all t’me.” He tries to soothe her with a joke, wantin’ to let her know that it was alright. Sure, it had been special to him—reminded him of their meetin’—but it was just a piece a’ paper. What was a piece a’ paper when he had the most important thing right here in front a’ him?

He wants to curl up further into her, but their positions don’t allow for it—the vehicle doesn’ exactly allow for him to move his long limbs much a’ anywhere. If this was as close as he could get, he was satisfied. Juniper shifts suddenly, eyes trained on him as she leans closer. They share a breath, then two, and then she’s pressin’ her mouth against his.

It’s nothin’ if not chaste. Clyde gets the feelin’ she doesn’ exactly want to neck in the front seat of her car like teenagers—at least not in plain view of the drive-in’s staff and other patrons. Just a gentle kiss, a little more than a peck; firm and lingerin’ just enough that he knows it happened. Juniper follows it up with another one at the corner of mouth, their noses pressin’ against one another’s cheeks.

It’s more than enough for Clyde; more than enough to get his pulse to sky rocket. He can’t remember the last time he’s been treated so gently, so much love in such a small movement. She gives him a smile when she pulls away, and they both sit back in their seats, starin’ all heart-eyed at one another. She takes the metal of his hand in hers, holdin’ it, and Clyde thinks maybe he should reconsider the whole curse thing.

They head back home after finishin’ their meal, the storm slowly peterin’ off as they get closer to Clyde’s trailer. Juniper walks him to his door, gigglin’ when she offers him her arm to escort him. He takes it, grinnin’ like a fool as they stomp up the front steps. They stand there under the yellow porch light, humid heat surroundin’ ‘em. Clyde usually hated the humidity, but not when it was like this, creatin’ such a hazy, intimate bubble around ‘em. Juniper drops her arm, but only to reach for Clyde’s flesh hand, holdin’ it in both of hers.

“I had a really nice time tonight, Clyde. Best date I’ve ever been on—and I mean that.”

Clyde can feel himself blushin’, a pleased smile turnin’ his lips up. “I had a good time, too. Wouldja—wouldja wanna do it again? Sometime soon?”

“Yes.” She answers almost before he can finish askin’, and they both laugh. There’s a beat, a pause, a breath, and then Juniper is leanin’ up the same moment Clyde’s leanin’ down. It’s a relief when their lips touch, like the first drink a’ water in the mornin’. Clyde thinks he’s been parched his whole life and never even knew it.

Juniper’s the one who deepens it, the one who drops his hand to lean into him, to thread her fingers through his thick hair, holdin’ him close. And fuck, Clyde isn’ gonna fight it. He wraps his arm around her, prosthetic against her back as his hand moves to hold her face. His palm envelops her cheek, thumb under her chin to keep her head lifted. They kiss and kiss, and when she makes a little whine in the back of her throat Clyde swears he’s floatin’.

When she pulls away to breathe he makes a sound of his own, a disappointed little groan that she huffs out a laugh at. He’d be embarrassed if she wasn’ nuzzlin’ her nose against his cheek like she can’t get enough.

“Those lips a’ yours aren’t fair.” She murmurs, and Clyde hums, strokin’ his thumb along her jawline. He doesn’ want this to end, he thinks for possibly the thousandth time that night. He doesn’ wanna let her get back in her car an’ drive across town, over the train tracks, past the antique shop, until she gets to the bed & breakfast.

He wants her right here, and he’s never been the one in this position, but he doesn’ hesitate when he asks her, “D’y’wanna come in?”

She nods, and it sets his chest aflame. They straighten up, untanglin’ themselves from one another even as she leans into his side, not wantin’ t’be too far. Clyde’s hands shake as he unlocks the front door but he doesn’ care if she sees. He wants her to see, wants her to know what she’s doin’ t’him. Maybe then...maybe she won’t leave.

Clyde flicks on the lights, closin’ the door behind both of ‘em. He watches as Juniper assesses his things: his clumsily cleaned living area, the small kitchenette that was (thankfully) decluttered. The hallway leads back to the bathroom, and then his bedroom, but Clyde doesn’ dare look towards it, much less lead her that way. Instead, he steps towards the fridge, hand reachin’ out to brush against the door.

“Want anythin’ t’drink?” He asks, voice quiet, as if nervous to disturb the silence. Juniper shoots him a smile, shakin’ her head as she perches on the couch.

“No, I’m okay, thank you.”

Clyde nods, lingerin’ there even though he doesn’ want a drink neither. Her eyes look him over, amusement showin’ in them.

“Why don’t you c’mere? If you want, of course.”

He wants. Oh, how he wants. So he goes, movin’ across the distance between them in three long strides until he can sit himself next to her. He’s stock straight, heart thrummin’ in his chest; his nice button-down feels all tight against his skin, too itchy. He thinks only her touch’ll soothe it, but doesn’ wanna ask her. Juniper, however, reads his mind; she always can. She smoothes a hand over his jean-clad thigh, leanin’ in ever so slowly, like she’s gonna startle him if she moves too fast. Clyde’s breath catches in his throat as she kisses him again, and it's heaven, it's heaven.

It’s different from in the car, from on the porch. This time there’s more purpose to it. Juniper’s kissin’ him—tastin’ him— like he belongs to her, and Clyde thinks maybe it's because she knows he does. He’s tryna’ angle his body just right, tryin’ t’lean down without puttin’ a crick in his neck. Not that he’d care much, if he did--a crick was worth this, worth the feelin’ of her tongue brushin’ against his bottom lip, against his teeth.

Juniper makes a frustrated little noise, pullin’ back, and Clyde’s brows furrow in confusion.

“Wha--Wha’s--?” He stammers out, flesh hand flexin’ on her waist, the silky fabric of her dress feelin’ so soft and cool against his skin. Juniper’s lips are plush and kiss bitten; Clyde tries to take a picture of ‘em in his memory, eyes trained on their pretty color. He almost misses her question. Scratch that, he does miss her question; has to very ineloquently say “huh?” to get her to repeat it. She ducks her head, voice shy.

“Can I, uh--get in your lap?”

Shit. Shit. Clyde nearly feels dizzy for all the blood rushin’ down south. It makes him a little self-conscious; she’s not gonna want t’sit on his lap and have his cock pressin’ into her all demandin’ like. But damn, his little Junebug looks so eager, her eyes darker than he’s ever seen ‘em, and like he’d said: he wants. So he just nods, barely breathin’.

Juniper shifts, pushin’ him into the back of the couch and he goes easily, willingly. She hikes her dress up her legs and Clyde gets a barely there peek of dark green lace before she’s straddlin’ his lap. He moans, can’t fuckin’ help it, and Juniper dives in to capture the sound with her mouth. Her hands are on his face, in his hair, fingers rubbin’ the shells of his ears—he’s surrounded, he’s drownin’, suffocatin’. He’s never felt so alive.

His own hands are placed chastely on either one of her hips, though he knows his flesh hand must be grippin’ her somethin’ fierce. The thought flashes in his mind, of him leavin’ little fingerprint shaped bruises on her skin for her to feel the next day. It makes him shiver underneath her.

Juniper takes and takes, and Clyde lets her. Clyde wants to be taken, in whatever way she’ll have him. Suddenly she’s pullin’ away just enough to suck in a little air, lips still brushin’ against his. He presses his long nose into the soft skin of her cheek, breath hot between them. When Juniper speaks, her voice is strained.

“Touch me, Clyde. Please.”

He doesn’ hesitate. His good hand moves from her hip to her ass, grabbin’, kneadin’ as he pulls her tighter against him. She lets out the prettiest noise Clyde thinks he’s ever heard, and his lips find her neck as his other arm comes around to hold her close. God, she tastes so good; her perfume fills his head until he feels dizzy with it.

She's pressed flush to him like this, grindin’ her hips against his. Clyde’s hard and leakin’ in his brand new jeans and the only thing he can think of is hearin’ her little noises again. Her hands are back in his hair, pullin’ at it, sweepin’ it away from his face so he doesn’ get tangled in it as his mouth makes a hot path down the neckline of her dress.

It feels so damn good that Clyde doesn’ realize she’s tryin’ to get his attention until she yanks on his tresses, his scalp burnin’ from it. Honestly he thinks he groans, rough and wild in his throat, the pain shootin’ straight to his cock. But it makes him look at her, and she holds him from divin’ back into her skin.

“Clyde I wanna—I wanna taste you. Is that okay? Can I?”

Lord Almighty above. That should be his line, it really should. But how can he argue with her? He’d give her anythin’ she wanted, anythin’. And she wanted—wanted to put her mouth on him. Clyde spares a thought for all the trimmed and proper men he’s seen in porn, how much nicer they looked, how Juniper deserved the best. West coast mean surely didn’ look the way he did. But then,“Yes,” he’s sayin’, voice ragged, “yes.”

And she’s slippin’ out of his lap onto the floor between his legs. Clyde’s heart pinches, and he leans forward to pick her right back up. To say “oh, darlin’, y’don’ need to be on the hard floor like that. Lemme stand an’ you c’n sit right back on these here pillows.” But before he can get his legs under him she's pressin’ her face between ‘em, nuzzlin’ into the scratchy fabric of his jeans, right up against his cock. Clyde’s brain short circuits.

“Been wantin’ this.” Juniper murmurs, small hands workin’ at his belt, and Clyde arches his hips up, tryin’ t’help her get his jeans off. He can’t believe this—can’t believe this is happenin’. She tugs his jeans and pants down his legs, just enough that his cock is revealed. Clyde clumsily unbuttons the first couple buttons at the bottom of his shirt, not wantin’ to get the new fabric messy. Juniper seems to like his idea; she sighs and leans forward to press her lips to the bare skin of his stomach.

“Sweetheart.” Clyde whispers, voice all trembly. He stretches out a little, givin’ her more access to his pale abdomen. Her lips are so soft against his skin, against the dark trail of hair leadin’ down, down, down. She follows it, nosin’ to the crook of his thigh, teeth scrapin’ deliciously ‘fore she turns her attention to his cock—already plump and stiff, and very interested in her ministrations. She wraps a hand around it and Clyde’s breath catches in his throat. She studies his cock, gives it a gentle stroke, thumb rubbin’ at the velvety head.

“You’re so big.” Her voice is quiet, but it startles Clyde all the same—he’s been transfixed by the vision in front of him.

“O-Oh, I-m, uh—“

He’s attemptin’ to apologize—his first instinct, really. But his brain isn’t really functionin’ all that well, and then she’s leanin’ in to lave her tongue over his slit. Clyde groans, a sound comin’ deep from his chest as he zeros in on the pretty pink of her soft, wet tongue. Juniper hums as if she’s pleased, a little smile on her face, and then she’s slippin’ her mouth over his cock in earnest.

Clyde’s head drops back against the couch pillow, lungs strugglin’ to suck in air. Oh fuck, oh fuck, fuck—it felt so good. She was gorgeous, she was perfect, she was a fucking angel doin’ this for him. She couldn’ take all of him into her mouth but goddamn she was tryin’. It didn’ matter—even if she wasn’ usin’ her hand to make up the difference, Clyde thinks he could cum just from seein’ her there between his legs, her silky soft lips on his skin.

He moves with her—not in a way where he’s pushin’ her or askin’ for more, but in a way where she’s pullin’ him; she’s the ebb and flow of the tide and he follows her willingly. His back arches, toes curlin’ up in his boots; his prosthetic settles on top of her free hand where it was grippin’ one of his large thighs. His other hand is too busy grippin’ the couch cushions to do much else. He’s lost to it—to her—an’ he doesn’ wanna be found.

It’s over far too quickly, embarrassingly so—it even surprises him. He’s ridin’ the high of his pleasure and his orgasm hits him so hard and fast that Clyde barely has any time t’warn her. All he can do is make a frantic noise, her name garbled in his throat as he quickly tries to push her off a’ him. But it’s too late—he’s cummin’ the same time that she’s pullin’ away, and Clyde can only watch in an odd mix of both arousal and horror as his cum paints her chin, neck, and cleavage.

Juniper’s mouth is held open in a surprised little ‘o’ shape, brows arched, and Clyde feels fuckin’ humiliated.

“J-Juniper, darlin’, m’so sorry, I—“ He scrabbles behind him for the throw blanket layin’ across the back of the couch, tuggin’ it into his lap so he can clean his mess off a’ her skin. He’s quick to tend to the spend on her cleavage first, hyperaware of how close it was to the fabric of her pretty black dress. “I’m sorry, I tried t’warn ya but it was too—“

“Clyde, it’s okay.” Her voice is all raspy and Clyde bites back a moan at the sound of it. She was so fuckin’ sexy, fuckin’ flawless. He’d cum all over her, messy and wild, and she was still lookin’ at him like he’d hung the damn moon. She pulls herself to standin’, and Clyde’s gaze dips down to where her knees were all red from kneelin’. Just another thing he didn’ know he found hot until now.

“But I guess it’s a little dangerous to keep this on, huh?”

His gaze snaps up to her face when she speaks, and she’s wearin’ a grin, eyes alight. Then she’s twistin’ her arms around, wrigglin’ out of that cute little dress until it graces the linoleum floor. She bends down to pick it up, drapin’ it carefully over one of the kitchen chairs. She moves like it’s nothin; like the sight of her in her heels and underwear ain’ makin’ his cock try to thicken up again.

“Yer so beautiful.” He tells her, gaze trained on her as she walks back over to him. Clyde feels so small with her standin’ in front of him; feels vulnerable even if he was still mostly dressed. Juniper steps out of her heels slowly, placin’ them to the side before leanin’ in, restin’ her hands on the back of the couch on either side of his head so she can kiss him.

Clyde runs his flesh hand over her bare waist, down the swell of her hip, toyin’ with the band of her underwear. He doesn’t push it down; he won’t without her permission. It’s enough to kiss her like this, soft and lazy, feelin’ her skin underneath his. He feels all gooey and happy from his orgasm, even if it had come sooner than he’d have liked.

He sighs into her mouth, content; chases her lips when she pulls away. Juniper starts to work on the buttons of his shirt, and he sits up to help her ease it off a’ his shoulders. She folds it neatly, settin’ it to the side; Clyde forces himself to speak, tryin’ to get his brain back in workin’ order. “D’y’wanna—wanna go back to the bedroom? You c’n lay down and I’ll—I’ll take care a’ ya.”

He thinks he sounds all awkward and silly, but Juniper gives him a warm smile, and his insecurities fade. She was always comfortin’ him, whether she knew it or not. She places one last lingerin’ kiss to his lips before noddin’ at him. “I’d like that.”

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